[ alhaitham says to the mere shadow of light in the room. kaveh vanishes in motes of gold and spinning stardust, and alhaitham looks into the space that he had once inhabited with the gentle curve of his eyes. his hands splay over his book, before he opens the journal once more. words tumble forth like a stream. alhaitham does not need to read to understand their meaning.
there had been a tale, once, of kaveh the saviour, who had met an army from across the river. thirty days and thirty nights of negotiation could not sway the army, for they held the high bank of the river and could not be approached. kaveh the saviour, who had finally run the course of his patience, came to the mouth of the river, and built an embankment to divert its flow. in a mere half a day, the camps of the enemy were nothing but knee-deep mire and swamp. the allied forces crossed the dampened river and routed them. there were other tales too - snippets of kaveh the saviour dancing witht the goddess, kaveh the saviour with his hair beset with dazzling jewels, paragraphs upon paragraphs of his delicate beauty like that of a fallen rose - but alhaitham had liked the story of the river best.
he says, to the sullen air: ]
There you are, Kaveh, Saviour of Sumeru, Light of the Kshahrewar and he who denied the yoke. I was wondering where you have been. [ alhaitham turns the page. ] Dimming yourself doesn't suit you. Before the diplomat, you were the flame. You saved Sumeru because you did not give the opposing armies what they wanted, when they wanted. Why should do so for me?
[ then: quieter - ]
Come out, or not - it matters not to me. Do as a proper negotiator will: I summoned a Servant to be my equal, not my slave. Tell me your wish, and I will tell you mine.
no subject
[ alhaitham says to the mere shadow of light in the room. kaveh vanishes in motes of gold and spinning stardust, and alhaitham looks into the space that he had once inhabited with the gentle curve of his eyes. his hands splay over his book, before he opens the journal once more. words tumble forth like a stream. alhaitham does not need to read to understand their meaning.
there had been a tale, once, of kaveh the saviour, who had met an army from across the river. thirty days and thirty nights of negotiation could not sway the army, for they held the high bank of the river and could not be approached. kaveh the saviour, who had finally run the course of his patience, came to the mouth of the river, and built an embankment to divert its flow. in a mere half a day, the camps of the enemy were nothing but knee-deep mire and swamp. the allied forces crossed the dampened river and routed them. there were other tales too - snippets of kaveh the saviour dancing witht the goddess, kaveh the saviour with his hair beset with dazzling jewels, paragraphs upon paragraphs of his delicate beauty like that of a fallen rose - but alhaitham had liked the story of the river best.
he says, to the sullen air: ]
There you are, Kaveh, Saviour of Sumeru, Light of the Kshahrewar and he who denied the yoke. I was wondering where you have been. [ alhaitham turns the page. ] Dimming yourself doesn't suit you. Before the diplomat, you were the flame. You saved Sumeru because you did not give the opposing armies what they wanted, when they wanted. Why should do so for me?
[ then: quieter - ]
Come out, or not - it matters not to me. Do as a proper negotiator will: I summoned a Servant to be my equal, not my slave. Tell me your wish, and I will tell you mine.