[ with the mulishness of a man who knows the stakes at hand are inconsequential. the basis for debate has always been the conflict between views. there had once been a time where two views were aligned. there had once been a falling out where two views diverged. for kaveh, it has been two years. for alhaitham, it has been two hundred. two binary stars became aware of each other's existence, and began their spiraling orbit. once, alhaitham did not believe in fate. even now, he still does not; reincarnation does not set the course for the same wheels of samsara. one cannot use the past to predict the future when the future refuses to be predicted. this, he has always believed. but kaveh once again repeats another day on the birthdate of a goddess, and alhaitham knows that the wheel cannot continue to churn.

there is ignorance relying on a single source of knowledge. there, too, is ignorance in relying on a single source of faith. ]

To learn from a stubborn, inflexible instructor, must I not be stubborn and inflexible myself? I am yet to be convinced of the value of your teaching. [ kaveh yawns. the day began not four hours ago. sometimes, a day can only be four hours. alhaitham feels the yawn as if it were his own, a shiver that begins in kaveh's shoulders and ends lodged somewhere in his chest.

the motions are rote: alhaitham leans kaveh against him, coaxing him to his feet. he pockets their handkerchiefs and secures his cloak around kaveh's shoulders. alhaitham continues, ] You are, after all, the one who believes that whether the drapes are orange or blue have any bearing on the quality of light through our windows.

[ the next motion eases kaveh up into his arms. alhaitham tilts him just so, the shifting of a motion designed to slide kaveh's arms over his neck. with the line of his lips: ] Don't kick. Argue with words, not violence.