Flight into the White Night

by Canna54504885

Summary:

Days spent stripping away everything he owned for the sake of his ideals—Kaveh had finally birthed the masterpiece of the century. Yet, in return, all that remained were a few hollow words of praise, and a cold, vast emptiness left after running himself into the ground.

In his breathtaking yet wretched downfall, the young architect sat alone in the dim corner of a tavern, swallowing his despair in silence, dreading the inevitable approach of tomorrow.

What if the one who approached him in that moment of absolute exhaustion was not the junior he cherished so deeply yet had severed ties with, but someone else entirely? What if a man, calculating and cold to the core, yet fiercely captivated by Kaveh's brilliant talent, had been the one to find him first?

"……Alhaitham?"

A whispered plea, meant for a ghost from his past. But when Kaveh raises his eyes, he encounters an amethyst-eyed stranger clad in midnight silk, a leisurely smile upon his lips.

Part 1 of a Pantalone/Kaveh, Pantalone/Dottore story (with a hint of Haikaveh)

Notes:

Special thanks to Brocollei, for introducing me to the beautiful relationship between Kaveh, Dottore, and Pantalone.

I originally outlined the plot for this story before Version 6.3. However, due to a lack of time, the writing was delayed. In the meantime, Version 6.6 was released, and the new lore and character relationships completely changed the flow of my story. Please note that this story contains major spoilers for Version 6.6, so I highly recommend playing through the game before reading.

PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THAT I DO NOT ACCEPT NOR PURCHASE COMMISSIONS

Chapter 1: The Stranger at Lambad’s Tavern

The nights in Sumeru are dazzling

Once the sultry, humid day finally comes to an end, people pour into the streets to seek out their family, friends, and lovers. Beneath the shade of the Irminsul, the City of Wisdom comes alive each night with laughter and celebration, weaving a tapestry of beautiful sights.

Tonight was no exception. Somewhere in Sumeru, a wealthy merchant was hosting a lavish banquet. It was a celebration to mark the completion of a grand estate, designed by a young architect whose name was not yet widely known.

Nestled deep within the Lokapala Jungle, the manor was grand enough to be called a palace. A tycoon of Sumeru, possessing immense wealth, had desired a sanctuary where she could quietly spend the remainder of her days after retiring from her flamboyant life. At the same time, she wanted a monument that would display her wealth and refined taste to the world, and thus, this masterpiece was born.

The colossal structure stood tall amidst the serenity of the forest, the garden of purple Padisarahs stretching out before it looked like a scene straight out of a fairy tale. Whenever the night breeze brushed past, the flowers swayed like waves, and the palace, shimmering under the golden lights, drew gasps of admiration from all who laid eyes upon it.

The guests at the banquet chattered among themselves. Some praised the merchant's discernment for recognizing the talent of a mere unknown graduate, while others predicted that the young architect would soon rewrite the history of Sumeru's architecture. Some boldly speculated that this single project alone must have earned him enough fortune to last a lifetime, while others wondered why the guest of honor himself had not shown his face at the venue on a day like today.

"He's probably already sketching his next masterpiece," someone replied.

 

Who could have ever imagined? That the blonde young architect, instead of attending the celebration held in his honor, was drowning his sorrows alone in a corner of a tavern in the heart of Sumeru City.

The work hailed as the masterpiece of the century had indeed changed his life. However, it was not in the direction of success or glory.

What use was honor, and what did a bright future matter? The masterpiece he had birthed from the depths of despair left him with nothing but crushing debt and ruin. Having burned everything he had for his ideals, all that remained for him was a cold, merciless reality.

Very few knew of the wretched downfall of the young man once called the Light of Kshahrewar.

Kaveh was exhausted. Years of effort had ultimately stripped him of everything, and though he desperately sought consolation, he was too much of a coward to ask and reach for help to the person whose hand he himself had once let go of.

So, with the meager change left in his pocket, he simply drank.

Wishing that the long night would never end,
hoping to delay the approach of tomorrow for as long as possible.

And then,
The sound of unfamiliar footsteps approached to where the young man sat tucked away in the corner. At first, amidst the clamor of the bustling tavern, Kaveh assumed it was just someone looking for somebody else. Never imagining that anyone would come looking for him, stared blankly into his glass.

Yet, the footsteps halted right beside him, and soon, the scraping of a chair signaled that the stranger had taken a seat next to him.

Could he be here for me?

Through his blurred vision, Kaveh narrowed his eyes. The stranger seemed to be ordering a drink for himself as well, but Kaveh’s ears, already dulled by to much alcohol, could not register the voice properly.
In his drunken set of mind, the name that occupied his thoughts slipped out of his lips entirely unconsciously.

"……Alhaitham?"

No.

It was not the junior from his memories. This man was far broader in stature, clad in elegant, dark attire and extravagant accessories, with hair as black as the midnight sky.

Instead of the familiar green eyes touched by crimson hues, the man before him possessed eyes like polished amethysts.

 

The stranger was simply looking down at him, a leisurely smile playing upon his lips.