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Chapter Text

            Il Dottore had not expected the Tsaritsa’s summons.

            The Doctor suppressed an irritated sigh as the message came through the internal link he shared with his various segments.  Now, of all times?  Can this wait?

            No can do, the segment stationed at Zapolyarny Palace thought back.  Her Majesty wants all of us here, and she wants us here now.  Or as soon as possible, if “now” isn’t reasonable.

            Is she aware of my present activities?

            Yes, I have already informed her of your stakeout of the Sanctuary of Surasthana.  Her Majesty became noticeably more agitated upon hearing of this, and repeated her request for your immediate return to Snezhnaya.

            Is this for a general gathering of some sort, or…?

            Just us, as far as I can tell.  All of us.  All of you?  Me?  Whatever.

            So he was being recalled, then.  Wonderful.  Was there a reason given?

            No, she seems to want everyone here for the explanation.  I suppose she’s not interested in repeating herself.

            Fine.  He paused as the air around him seemed to ripple with energy – at least his target seemed to have better timing than that self-inflated fool of a Cryo Archon.  I’ll be on my way just as soon as I’ve finished up here.

            … very well.  Her Majesty says to make it quick.

            The Doctor cut off his internal link as a young, female voice drifted out to him from the center of the Sanctuary.  A shame, really; a rare opportunity to speak with the elusive God of Wisdom, and now it was being cut short.  The Tsaritsa was normally a patient woman, but when she wanted something done quickly, she wanted it done quickly.

            Her Majesty would not take kindly to him stalling for a leisurely conversation.

            He didn’t bother with the device he’d appropriated from those idiot Sages; there was no need, and it might have cost him the element of surprise.  Buer turned at the sound of footsteps behind her, but she was far too slow, and the tiny god gasped as his hand went straight through her chest.  The white-haired fairy behind her shrieked in horror as the Electro Gnosis fell from the Lesser Lord’s hands.

            He paused.  Where was the other Gnosis?

            He didn’t get much time to ponder that question.  The Traveler, that golden-haired pest who’d plagued seemingly all of the Fatui’s operations for the past year or so, had already reacted to his sudden appearance, and her blade was approaching with surprising speed.  No matter; the power she’d demonstrated against the Shouki no Kami was impressive, to be certain, but still no threat to the Second of the Fatui Harbingers.

            The brat’s sword clattered to the ground as its wielder was unceremoniously flung into the side of the Sanctuary’s central platform.  She never knew what hit her.

            Still, even as that dimwitted fairy looked frantically between the other two females in the room, evidently struggling to decide who she should try to help first, the Doctor frowned.  Where was the Dendro Gnosis?  Was this child not actually the Archon Buer after all?  There’d been some speculation when the Fatui were doing their research for their Archon hunt, that maybe she was a just a decoy for the true God of Wisdom, but there’d been no actual evidence to support any of those theories…

            A sudden flash of green light pulled the Doctor out of his thoughts, and he silently cursed his forced haste as his mind processed the information his eyes were taking in.

            The Dendro Gnosis had appeared in front of the Lesser Lord.  It floated between them for just a moment, before abruptly whipping around him, almost too fast for his eyes to follow, and flying out through the Sanctuary’s doors.  The closed doors.

            He’d missed.

            There was no time to figure out how to chase the thing down; the commotion inside the Sanctuary had apparently already drawn outside attention, if the confused shouting he could just barely hear from outside was any indication, and even he knew fighting his way past an entire nation’s military force was a bad idea, regardless of how easy it would be.  Even if Her Majesty were more willing to wait on him, the situation was no longer tenable.

            It took a few seconds longer than expected for him to extract himself from the situation; while he’d been distracted by the Dendro Gnosis, Buer had grabbed onto his wrist with one hand, and her grip was surprisingly tight.  The little god locked eyes with him for just a moment as he yanked his arm free, and he found himself suppressing an involuntary shudder.

            How strange.  The Lesser Lord was no threat to him, but something about her gaze – those large, faintly-glowing emerald eyes – still made his skin crawl.

            It was like she could see right through him.

            No matter.  He swatted the tiny god aside like the insignificant pest she was, and quickly retrieved the Electro Gnosis from where it had fallen.  The Sanctuary of Surasthana’s interior was far too bright a shade of green – even just thinking about the place made his eyes hurt – but at least that made it easy to locate the one piece of the Shouki no Kami that was worth his time and effort to salvage.  He was already cutting this rather close; having to stop and search for the Gnosis would have been less than ideal.

            Reaching into his coat pocket, the Doctor pulled out the emergency escape device he’d prepared for just this sort of situation.  Any good scientist knew how important it was to always have an evacuation plan.

            The Sanctuary’s doors swung open, but he was already gone.

***

            In the gardens of Pardis Dhyai, a lone scholar looked up from his late-night observations of the plants, just in time to catch sight of a bright streak crossing the night sky, coming from the direction of Sumeru City and vanishing somewhere over the western horizon.  The scholar took a moment to marvel at the ethereal beauty of the heavens, then returned to his research.

            Briefly, he wondered if it was unusual for a shooting star to glow green.

***

            “Lumine!”

            Lumine winced as she forced herself to open her eyes, to stand even as the world seemed to spin dangerously around her.  Her ears were ringing something fierce, and she forced herself to focus on Paimon’s voice calling her name.

            The Doctor… the Doctor was nowhere to be seen.

            The world finally stopped spinning, and her eyes finally focused on the white-and-green figure on the ground in front of her.  Nahida.  The tiny god didn’t move or react in any way as Lumine stumbled over to her, and wisps of Dendro-green light poured from her chest and back.  For a moment, she feared the worst.

            No.  Gods don’t die quietly in this world.  If Nahida died, everyone would know.

            A male voice drew her attention.  “Lumine, Paimon.  What happened?”

            “Cyno!”  That was Paimon.  “It was – it was the Doctor!  We’d just gotten back, and he just showed up out of nowhere and…!”

            Cyno’s eyes widened.  “The Doctor?  But didn’t you and Dehya say…”  He paused and shook his head.  “No, this isn’t the time.  Is the Lesser Lord alright?”

            “I don’t know,” Lumine heard herself say.  Her voice sounded strangely distant in her mind, like it was coming from someone else.  “The Doctor… he…”

            She’s alive now, but probably not for long.  There has to be something… Venti went to Windrise, but does Nahida have anything similar?  And would it even work?  Signora hurt Venti pretty badly, but that was nothing compared to…

            She paused, and turned to look back over her shoulder.

            Rukkhadevata’s meditation bubble.  Maybe…

            No.  They’d just freed Nahida from that awful prison.  They couldn’t just turn around and put her back again, not when they didn’t even know if it would do anything to help… but…

            But it might.

            Lumine turned back around, and immediately knew from Cyno’s expression that they’d been having the same thoughts.  The General Mahamatra took a deep breath, then turned to the two guards watching nervously from the Sanctuary’s doors.  “Hana, go find someone – not one of the former Sages – who knows how to operate this thing, and take them to the controls.  I will send Payam when we’re ready to have it turned on.”  The guards nodded, and one quickly left as Cyno turned back around.  “Let’s hurry.  I doubt we have much time.”

            Lumine nodded, but immediately winced as the world seemed to tilt from the movement.  “Sorry, I… I think you should carry her.  I think I hit my head…”

            Cyno only paused for a moment before nodding back.  “Right.”

            Lumine watched as the General Mahamatra carefully lifted his god from the floor and carried her to the Sanctuary’s central pedestal, forcing herself not to focus on the seemingly-increasing flow of light from that awful wound.  Don’t panic.  Panicking doesn’t help.  Stay calm, pay attention in case Cyno needs you to do something else…

            Her head pounded.  The world suddenly seemed to blur.  Dimly, she heard Cyno call to the remaining guard.

            Paimon floated into her line of sight.  Lumine thought she heard the fairy say something, but she couldn’t tell what anymore.  Everything was running together…

            The world went black.

***

            She awoke to birdsong, and the distant sound of rushing water.

            Lumine blinked, then slowly raised one hand to rub the sleep out of her eyes.  Her head hurt, but not as bad as before.  What had she been…?

            The Balladeer.  Irminsul.  The Doctor.

            Nahida.

            She barely resisted the urge to immediately try and sit upright.  That would probably have been a bad idea, especially coming off of what she guessed was a probably-recent head injury.  Take your time, you’re clearly not in the same place as before.  Check your surroundings, try to analyze the current situation and act accordingly.

            Looking around, Lumine saw that she was lying on a bed in a small, vaguely familiar wooden building.  It took her a few moments to recognize the interior of Tighnari’s house – it had been nearly two months, not counting the unknown amount of time she’d been unconscious for, since she’d last been there.  Paimon was asleep next to her, wrapped around Lumine’s upper left arm like a child around their favorite stuffed animal.

            Voices drifted in from outside.

            “… chaos… a lot of uncertainty…”

            “… a lot of work to be done…”

            Lumine considered trying to sit up – slowly, of course – but quickly realized that doing so would be tricky with a certain fairy still clinging to her.  She wondered what would be the best way to extract oneself from another’s grip without disturbing the other in the process.

            Fortunately, the answer to that question was quickly rendered moot by Paimon happening to choose that precise moment to wake up on her own.

            “Lumine?”  Paimon blinked, sat up, and rubbed her eyes.  “Lumine, you’re awake!  Paimon was so worried, you were all wobbly and then you suddenly passed out and…”  The fairy paused for a moment, and then her eyes lit up.  “Oh!  Right, um, this is Tighnari’s house – Cyno brought you here, that was a couple days ago – and he’s been waiting for you to wake up, so Paimon will go let him know!  Be right back!”

            Paimon was up and out the door before Lumine had even processed her words, much less thought of anything to say in response or protest.  Oh well.  She did finally sit up as Paimon called for Tighnari in the next room; to her relief, doing so did not prompt the world to attempt another impression of a merry-go-round.

            Paimon returned a moment later, Tighnari following not far behind.  “Good morning, Lumine,” he said.  He seemed much better than he had been when they’d last seen each other at Pardis Dhyai, which was good.  “It’s good to see that you’re awake.  How do you feel?”

            “I’ve had worse, I think.  Paimon said it’s been a couple of days…?”

            Tighnari nodded.  “That’s right.  You appeared to have taken quite a hit to the head.  Just to check, what’s the last thing you remember?”

            Lumine paused for a moment before responding.  “We… we’d defeated the Balladeer, and healed Irminsul.  We’d just gotten back to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, Nahida was talking about… about her plans for Sumeru…”  She took a moment to collect her thoughts.  She hoped Nahida was alright.  “Then… the Doctor appeared, all of a sudden, and… attacked Nahida.”  She didn’t know if Tighnari knew what a Gnosis was; better not to talk about that for the moment.  “I tried to help, but he did… something… and I got thrown across the room.  That was when I hit my head.  And then he just… disappeared.  At that point Cyno came in with a couple of guards, and we figured we couldn’t just leave Nahida on the floor like that, so…”

            Nobody said anything for a few seconds, before Tighnari finally broke the silence.  “Anything after that?”

            Lumine nodded slowly, taking another moment to finish gathering her thoughts on how to continue.  “In the Sanctuary… there was this sort of… energy bubble, that the Sages had kept Nahida in.  It was – ”  She paused.  No, I shouldn’t mention Rukkhadevata.  Nobody remembers her now that she’s been erased from Irminsul.  “We didn’t know what else to do, so… we put her back.”  Another pause.  “Or at least… we were going to put her back?  I don’t… I don’t actually remember if we managed to or not…”

            Tighnari nodded.  “Well, that pretty much lines up with what Paimon and Cyno told me, so it doesn’t sound like you have any memory issues, at least.  I’m still going to advise you to stay a few more days, just in case; let me know if you have trouble remembering anything, or notice anything else strange.”

            Lumine nodded again.  “Okay.  Thanks, Tighnari.”

            “You’re welcome.  Oh, and there is one other thing.  Cyno apparently has… some kind of message for you?  He insists on delivering it to you personally.  Would you like me to let him in now, or tell him to come back later?”

            Lumine blinked.  “Uh… now is fine.  Thanks.”  What kind of message could that be…?

            Tighnari nodded and left.  Lumine heard him talking quietly to someone, and then Cyno came into the room, closing the door behind him.  “Hello, Lumine.”

            “Cyno.”  She paused.  Cyno looked… well, maybe not exhausted, but definitely visibly tired.  Bags were starting to form under his eyes, and his shoulders seemed to slump a little for just a moment, before he caught himself and straightened up again.  “Have… have you been busy these past couple of days?”

            Cyno stared at her for a moment before responding.  “Was it that obvious?”

            “Not really?  It was kind of just a guess.”

            A sigh.  “Sumeru City is in chaos,” he said.  “People were… unsettled… after hearing about what happened on Jnagarbha Day, but the Matra and Corps of Thirty were able to keep things relatively under control.”  Lumine remembered that; she and Paimon had heard some of the whispered gossip as they wandered the streets in search of a good place to eat after their first true face-to-face meeting with Nahida.  Everyone had seemed… concerned, by the news that their government had just been all but overthrown, but not excessively so.  Mostly there was just a lot of talk about what the Sages had apparently been up to.  “But then the incident with Lesser Lord Kusanali occurred, and the Akasha suddenly went down.  The situation deteriorated quickly after that, especially after word got out about the attack.”

            Lumine winced.  “So… things are bad?”

            A nod.  “Very bad.  There’s a lot of concern about the government situation – suddenly losing four of the Six Sages is no small matter to begin with, and now the Archon has been incapacitated as well.  The fact that Lesser Lord Kusanali was attacked by a Fatui Harbinger is also highly troubling; many people are afraid that the Fatui may make another attempt at taking over the nation, now that the most obvious deterrent is indisposed.”

            “Is Nahida okay?” Paimon asked.  “She hasn’t… you know… has she…?”

            “It’s still impossible to tell at this point in time.  The Lesser Lord remains unconscious, and has been unresponsive to any stimulus we dare attempt to apply through the containment field.  For what it’s worth, her condition doesn’t appear to have gotten worse, but there are no obvious signs of it getting better, either.”

            “Oh… well, um… at least there’s still hope, right?”

            “Of course, but the city needs more than just hope right now.”  Cyno paused, and sighed.  “And then there’s the matter of the Akasha.”

            “Are people really that upset about it?” Paimon asked.  “Paimon knows it was really useful and all, but with all the bad things it was being used for…”

            Cyno shook his head.  “Unfortunately, it’s not so simple to get rid of something people have grown so accustomed to.  The abrupt shutdown has had a lot of unforeseen effects, and with so much of the Akademiya suddenly under investigation, there simply isn’t enough manpower to handle all of the problems that have arisen.  Not when the sudden collapse of the government and the potential threat of the Fatui are much greater concerns.”

            Lumine nodded.  “Right.  I can see why you would be busy, then.”  She paused.  “So, you needed to deliver a message of some sort to me?”

            “Yes.  Lesser Lord Kusanali did briefly regain consciousness, just as final preparations were being made to reactivate the containment field.  She asked me to give these to you.”

            Lumine blinked as Cyno handed her two Knowledge Capsules – one gold, one white.  “Knowledge Capsules?  But… didn’t you say the Akasha…?”

            “Yes, the Akasha is currently out of operation, but Akasha Terminals can still be used to draw information from other sources.  I was asked to tell you to use the gold capsule when you are ready, and that it would contain instructions regarding the use of the white capsule.”

            Lumine nodded slowly.  “I understand.  Thank you, Cyno.”

            Cyno nodded back, then briefly adjusted his headpiece before turning to leave.  Lumine looked down at the Knowledge Capsules in her hands as the door opened, then closed again.

            When you are ready.  Those words stuck out to her for some reason.

            She had a feeling she wasn’t going to like what she learned.

***

            Hello, Lumine.  It’s me, Nahida.

            By the time you receive this message… I think I might already be gone.

            You’re probably wondering what exactly happened with the Doctor.  How he appeared so suddenly, why he was here when you’d personally seen him leaving for Snezhnaya.  I doubt I have the answers to all of your questions, but I did manage to look through some of the Doctor’s memories before he fled, so I do have some information for you.

            It would appear that the Fatui Harbinger known as Il Dottore, or the Doctor, controls a number of separate bodies, or “segments”, created at various points in his life.  These segments can operate independently, allowing the Doctor to, in a sense, be in multiple places at the same time.  You did indeed see the Doctor leave Sumeru, but that was just one of his segments; a different segment remained behind, waiting for an opportunity to strike.  It also seems that the Doctor’s segments have a sort of internal link, allowing them to communicate with each other over great distances.

            I also came across some information about you.  It would seem that the Fatui have been watching and studying you for some time, specifically your origins as a traveler from another world.  The Fatui call people like you – those who don’t belong to this world – “Descenders”, of which you are apparently the fourth, and thus far, the last.

            Curiously, I noted that your brother was not on the Fatui’s list of Descenders.  I was not able to investigate further, but perhaps someone else can help you with that.

            I wish… I wish I had more time.  I wish I could continue to watch over you on your journey – I’ve learned so much from watching you, and I’m sure there’s way more that I still have yet to learn.  But…

            After the Doctor attacked me, the Dendro Gnosis left my body.  I think it sensed… that I won’t be around much longer.  I can only assume it has gone to find my successor.

            With that said, I have… a bit of a selfish request.

            Please stay.

            I’m not asking you to stay forever; I know you have your own goals, and that they will eventually require you to leave.  But… if I’m right about the Gnosis going to find a new Archon, then whoever it chooses to take my place, I would like you to try and help them.  Help them lead Sumeru into a better future.

            Help them like you’ve helped me, and others before me.

            You should have received a white Knowledge Capsule along with the one containing this message.  It contains a message for my successor – whoever they might be, where and whenever they might be found.  Please keep it safe, and pass it along for me.

            I’m sorry that I can’t do more for you.  For everyone.  I’m sorry that this has to be the way I say goodbye.

            Goodbye, Lumine.

            Ad astra abyssosque!

***

            It took Lumine a moment to realize that Paimon was hugging her.

            It took another moment to realize that the tears were her own.

Chapter Text

            “I still don’t see what the problem is.”

            “You don’t – for the love of… Il Dottore, do you have any idea how much trouble your little side adventure could have caused?”

            “Everything was under control.  The Sages were hardly a threat – ”

            “This is not about the Sages!  You were trying to build a god, Dottore.  And now you’ve gone and outright murdered an Archon!  Did you really not consider the possibility that Celestia might take issue with any of that?!”

            “They don’t seem to have objected thus far.”

            “Yes, and we’re extremely lucky for that.  We are not – no, don’t you give me that look, I will question you on the contents of this conversation if I have to – we are not ready to deal with Celestia yet, do you understand?”

            “…”

            “Do you understand, Il Dottore?”

            “… yes, Your Majesty.”

            “… I’m not sure I believe you, but I suppose that will have to do.  I swear, it’s always the intelligent ones who manage to do the dumbest things… Now then, listen carefully, because I do not want to have to go over this next part again.  You will not return to Sumeru, and you will certainly not make any attempts on their new Archon, until further notice, are we clear?”

            “I understand, Your Majesty, but I do not understand why you are so paranoid about this.  The Lesser Lord was a complete non-threat, and I doubt her replacement will be substantially more dangerous so soon after ascension.  Furthermore, the nation will likely be in quite a bit of turmoil following recent events.  Is this not an ideal opportunity for the Fatui to accomplish our goals relatively unopposed?”

            “… yes, it is.  In fact, it’s too ideal an opportunity.”

            “I’m not sure I follow.”

            “Dottore, what do you suppose Sumeru’s neighbors think of the current situation?”

            “…”

            “And what do you suppose they think, in light of recent events in Inazuma?  You know as well as I do that news of those… incidents… has certainly spread by now.  Do you truly believe all of the other nations will simply stand by and do nothing under these circumstances?”

            “Why not?  What happens to Sumeru is none of their concern.”

            “Until Sumeru has fallen, and the attention of those who destroyed it shifts elsewhere.”

            “So you are worried that other nations will start preparing themselves against us?  They would do that regardless of any further activity in Sumeru, if they have any sense.”

            “And you don’t suppose any of them might see the benefit of preventing Sumeru’s fall?  Of preserving a potential ally, in case they need one later?”

            “…”

            “I should hope there’s no need for me to inform you that as far as foreign relations go, recent events have not been to Snezhnaya’s benefit.  The situation in Liyue was unfortunately unavoidable; that incident was necessary to see the contract with Morax through, and attempting to take the Geo Gnosis by force would have been foolhardy at best.  Inazuma… at least that mess had some purpose, with the advancements in Delusion technology it produced, even if things did go rather overboard.  But what did your ‘experiment’ with the Electro Gnosis accomplish?  The experiment failed, you nearly lost the Electro Gnosis in the process, you did lose the Dendro Gnosis, which should have been easily negotiated for, as well as the Balladeer.  And with the Fatui’s open involvement…”

            “For the record, I had fully intended to negotiate for both Gnoses.  Unfortunately, I was abruptly called away just as the opportunity presented – ”

            “Do not attempt to blame this on me, Il Dottore.  Had you not been toying around with the Fatui’s resources and reputation, there would have been no need for your recall.  Now, what was I… right.  Liyue, of course, is Sumeru’s immediate neighbor, and will almost certainly be happy to provide support to a fellow enemy of the Fatui.  Inazuma may be farther removed, but I’m sure they will be quite interested to hear of a certain prisoner.  And Mondstadt will likely be quite eager to join in once others have expressed interest – there’s fortunately no real evidence of Signora attacking Barbatos, but I know the Knights still aren’t too happy about the ‘let’s kill one of the Four Winds’ suggestion, and that was hardly their first grievance with us…”

            “You have to admit that killing Ursa the Drake was to our benefit, diplomatically.  And there’s no evidence of the Fatui at large instigating the incident with that child.”

            “None of that changes the fact of Mondstadt’s low opinion of us.”

            “… true.”

            “And, of course, there’s the possibility of Celestia deciding to intervene, which would be to no one’s benefit.  Your ‘experiment in blasphemy’ and the murder of an Archon haven’t been enough to draw their attention, nor has the general disarray resulting from those events, but one nation losing two Archons, one right after the other?”

            “I feel the need to reiterate that Buer’s death was not my intent.”

            “And yet it was the result, regardless.”

            “… Yes.  It was.”

            “So, in short, it is simply not worth the risk to make another attempt at acquiring the Dendro Gnosis at this point in time.  We are not in any hurry, so long as Celestia does not choose to act, and as such it is in our best interest to keep our heads down for the moment.  There will be plenty of opportunities later on – the new Dendro Archon is unlikely to gain too much strength too quickly, with their nation in disarray and a Gnosis that was not originally their own.”

            “A fair point, Your Majesty.  In that case, I will await my next assignment.”

            “See to it that you do.”

***

            It had been one week since… the incident.

            For what it was worth, not all news since then had been bad.  The defeat of Grand Sage Azar and his followers was obviously a good thing, and Cyno had sent word that the traitors were being held by the Matra until everyone involved had been tracked down and a proper trial could be arranged.  It also appeared that the purification of Irminsul had outright eradicated Eleazar; Collei was taking full advantage of her freedom from that plague, and Dunyarzad was apparently doing much the same, according to the note Dehya had sent along with Cyno’s letter.

            Cyno had also confirmed that there had been no further casualties among their group, with regards to the Jnagarbha Day operation.  Alhaitham had returned unharmed from “exile”, and immediately been dragged straight back to work as soon as it was confirmed that he was, in fact, entirely sane and completely unaffected by his “use” of the Divine Knowledge Capsule.  He’d also reported that the Village Keepers seemed to have been cured of their madness, and Isak was apparently very excited to go home and see his grandpa again.

            Lumine could almost say that the plan had, ultimately, been a success.

            As she and Paimon reentered Sumeru City, it was immediately clear that the situation was still… not ideal.  The city practically radiated unease; people were huddled in seemingly every corner, whispering amongst themselves, and there were noticeably more guards on the streets than there had been before.

            And that was just what could be observed at a glance.

            Browsing the stalls of Treasures Street for a late breakfast, Lumine quickly realized what Cyno had been talking about when he mentioned the Akasha’s shutdown having “unforeseen effects”.  Practically every shop seemed to have a line stretching halfway down the road, evidently due to a major decrease in speed of service.  Hamawi, the owner of the local general goods store, was slowly calculating the total cost of a customer’s purchase by pen and paper; another shopkeeper was fumbling with an abacus that looked like it had come from someone’s antiques cabinet.

            “The Akasha is capable of computation.”

            Evidently, that capability had been used for more mundane purposes as well.

            “Whoa!”  Paimon yelped as someone bumped into her from one side.  “Watch where you’re going, mister!”

            “Ah, sorry!”  The culprit, a young male Corps of Thirty member, stepped back and gave a quick bow of apology.  “I – I’m sorry, I was busy trying to read the address on this letter, I know I should have been paying more attention to the road but…”

            Paimon had looked ready to chew the man out some more, but even she seemed to notice how frazzled he was.  “W-well, it’s okay, but be more careful next time.  Paimon can fly, but someone else might have been knocked over!”

            Lumine glanced at the letter in the man’s hand as he stammered another apology.  The address seemed to be written pretty clearly…  “Do you need help reading that?”

            The man paused for a moment, then handed the envelope to her.  “… yes, please.”

            Paimon blinked.  “Um, this doesn’t look… um, sorry if this sounds a bit mean, but… do you… not know how to read?”

            The man’s shoulders sagged.  “No… not very well, at least.  I’m trying to teach myself, but it’s pretty hard…”

            “But someone assigned you to deliver a letter, and didn’t tell you what the address was?”

            “Well… to be fair, it… didn’t really matter before.  I could just ask the Akasha to tell me what things said, after all.  But now that the Akasha’s stopped working…”

            Lumine nodded.  “I see… right, so it looks like this letter’s addressed to one of the shops in the Grand Bazaar.  I don’t recognize the name, but someone there can probably direct you to the right person.”

            “Oh, yes, that’s a great idea!  Thank you so much!”

            Lumine handed the letter back to the man, and waved as he turned to leave.  “I wonder if there are a lot of people like him,” she murmured.

            “Paimon hopes not!  At least, Paimon hopes that if there are, someone can help them learn to read soon!”

            Lumine wondered if it would be so simple.

Chapter Text

            “From my observations, you seem to have recovered well enough.  If you want to head out, I have no objections.”

            “Thanks, Tighnari.  I think we’ll head back to the city tomorrow morning.  I… I’d like to check in with the others, and see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

            “Of course.  From what Cyno’s told me, it sounds like they have questions for you, too.  I’ll send a message to let them know that you’re coming.”

***

            Even before the Doctor’s sudden appearance, Lumine had suspected that the Akademiya was going to be something of a mess following the events of Jnagarbha Day.  If the aftermath of Inazuma’s civil war had taught her anything, it was that you couldn’t just throw out two thirds of a nation’s government and expect everything to be fine and dandy afterward.

            She was not wrong.

            The Akademiya was abuzz with anxious gossip.  People were clustered everywhere, whispering nervously about various topics.  Or at least, they were probably trying to whisper; most were actually talking loudly enough for Lumine to easily overhear their conversations as she walked past.

            “… Grand Sage Azar… traitor…”

            “… working with the Fatui… new god…”

            “… the Lesser Lord…”

            “Everyone seems really upset,” Paimon said quietly as they made their way towards the House of Daena.  “Paimon hopes we can do something quickly…”

            Lumine nodded.  “Well, first we need to talk to the others and get everyone caught up on the details of what happened.  Especially about… Nahida.  And that thing.”

            The others were apparently rather impatient to be filled in as well – not that she could blame them, given how abruptly everything had gone wrong.  Tighnari’s letter informing them of Lumine’s return from Gandharva Ville, sent to Cyno late the previous afternoon, had gotten a surprisingly quick reply.  The plan was to meet up in the now-unoccupied Grand Sage’s office, one of the few places left in the city where they could converse without the constant risk of interruption by passersby looking for new gossip, to get everyone on the same page, and maybe start brainstorming ideas for how to get things back under control.

            In contrast to how crowded the Akademiya’s main hall had been, the House of Daena was surprisingly empty.  Lumine supposed that with all the recent chaos, no one was really in the mood to study.  Aside from a lone librarian sitting at the front desk, reading a book, there wasn’t a single person in sight.

            That said, there clearly was at least one other person around.

            That person was being very loud.

            “What – you – are you kidding me?!  I’m away for a few weeks on a project, and somehow the entire nation falls apart while I’m gone?!”

            Lumine and Paimon looked at each other.  “Um, maybe Paimon is mistaken, but aren’t people supposed to talk quietly when they’re in a library?”

            “Oh, don’t mind that.”  Lumine and Paimon both blinked, then turned towards the source of the voice.  It was the librarian.  “That’s just Mr. Kaveh.”

            Paimon blinked again.  “Um… okay?  Paimon doesn’t know who that is, but… does he come in here and yell a lot or something?”

            The librarian smiled wryly as she turned back to her book.  “Something to that effect.  He frequently argues with Scribe Alhaitham, often in public.  You get used to it.”

            Lumine and Paimon looked at each other again.  “I… see…” Lumine managed to say.

            “I can attempt to remove them, if they’re being too disruptive.  Alternatively, I can point you to some quieter parts of the library.”

            “Uh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.  Thanks, though.”

            The librarian nodded.  She still hadn’t looked back up from her book.  “No problem.  Let me know if you need any assistance.”

            Continuing towards the elevator to the Grand Sage’s office, Lumine paused to look in the direction of the shouting, which only seemed to be getting louder.  Sure enough, Alhaitham was standing at one of the library’s many desks, along with a blond man who Lumine assumed to be the “Kaveh” the librarian had mentioned.

            “Th – this has to be some kind of joke.  Is this a joke?  Some kind of elaborate prank you’ve set up to try and annoy me to death?”

            “Don’t be absurd.  The effort required to set up a ‘joke’ of this scale would hardly be worth the trouble, especially when, as you are currently demonstrating, there are far more efficient ways of achieving the result you believe I am after.”

            Paimon blinked as Kaveh spluttered in incoherent rage.  “Um, wow.  So… they do this all the time?  Should we… do something…?”

            Lumine forced herself to keep a straight face.  “Let’s… just see how this goes for now.”

            “Okay… fine.  So this isn’t a joke.  What exactly happened, then?”

            “Haven’t I already told you?  Azar and his accomplices were overthrown, and are currently awaiting trial for high treason against Sumeru and its Archon.  The Sages of Amurta and Vahumana were not involved in their colleagues’ scheme, and thus retain their positions, but the other four Darshans – including Kshahrewar and Haravatat – are now in need of new Sages.”

            “Okay, yes, you did already say that, but that doesn’t really answer my question!  What’s this treason thing you say the Sages were involved in?  Something to do with the Fatui?”

            Alhaitham sighed.  He seemed incredibly exasperated by this whole conversation.  “Yes, it was related to the Fatui.  Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

            “Wha – hey, you still haven’t answered my question!  Also, why’s everyone freaking out over the Akasha?  And I heard something about Lesser Lord Kusanali?”

            “Kaveh, I don’t have time for this today.  And honestly, I don’t see why you need me to spell this all out to you; you’re perfectly capable of figuring things out for yourself.”

            “I – ARGH!  See, this is why I hate discussing anything with you!  Your ridiculous attitude is always getting in the way!”

            “Well, why are you bothering me about this then?  There are plenty of other people you could have asked for information instead.”

            “Because you’re the Scribe, obviously!  I mean, yeah, there were loads of other people talking about what happened, but I’m pretty sure they were all just spreading crazy rumors, and none of them have any real information.  Some people were saying Azar was trying to create a god, there was something about a dream conspiracy…”

            “That’s not a bad start, actually.  Go ask around some more and see what you find.”

            “Wha – seriously, you’re messing with me again?!  Can’t you just show your senior some respect for once?!”

            Alhaitham sighed and rolled his eyes, then paused as he seemed to finally notice that he and Kaveh were no longer alone in the mostly-deserted library.  For a moment, he almost seemed relieved.  “While that sounds like a great idea, I’m afraid I really don’t have time for it right now.  There’s a meeting I need to get to, and it appears I’m already running late.”

            Kaveh stared at him in apparent disbelief.  “Seriously?  That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve said all day.  You couldn’t come up with any better excuse?”

            “It’s not an excuse.”

            “Now who’s being absurd?!  Hey, where do you think you’re going?!  We’re not done talking yet – ”

            THWAP!

            “Wha – OW!  What the heck was that for?!”

            Alhaitham dropped the file folder in his hand back onto the stack of similar folders on the table next to him.  “Like I’ve been saying, I don’t have time for this right now.  If you still want to continue this discussion, we can do so after I get back from work tonight.”

            Kaveh spluttered lividly, but Alhaitham ignored him, picking up the pile of folders and a mug from the desk and walking away in the direction of the elevator.  Lumine glanced back as she and Paimon went to follow him, and forced herself not to laugh as Kaveh shouted something about misuse of resources and messing up his hair.

            “What a drama queen,” Paimon said, also apparently stifling a laugh.  “That folder wasn’t even that full.”

            They caught up to Alhaitham at the elevator.  “Good timing,” he said as they stepped onto the platform, and the Matra standing off to the side pressed the button to send them to the upper floor.  “It’s not normally so difficult to get out of a conversation I have no interest in, but the other party was being unusually persistent today.”

            “Who was that, anyway?” Paimon asked.  “The librarian said his name was Kaveh?”

            “That’s correct.  He’s my roommate.  You could consider him… a representative of sorts, for Kshahrewar scholars.”

            Paimon blinked.  “Roommate?  So… you’re friends, then?”

            Alhaitham raised an eyebrow at her.  “Did we look like friends?”

            “Well… maybe?  Paimon isn’t sure…”

            Alhaitham huffed and smiled faintly as he turned away, but didn’t respond otherwise.

            When they finally reached the Grand Sage’s office and got off the elevator, everyone else was already there.  Someone had brought additional chairs into the room, and Cyno, Dehya, and Nilou were seated around the Grand Sage’s desk, which had been cleared of the various papers and other items that had been on it before.

            The Grand Sage’s ornate chair stood empty.  Evidently, no one was really comfortable associating themselves with that position just yet.

            Cyno looked up as they approached.  “Lumine, Paimon.”  He paused.  “Alhaitham.  You were gone longer than expected.”

            “I was briefly sidetracked,” Alhaitham replied flatly as he sat down.  “Someone had… urgent… need of my attention.”

            Dehya smirked.  “Oh really?  Care to let us in on this important matter, Mr. Big Shot?”

            “It wasn’t anything important.  Let’s not get distracted here, now that the individuals of interest have finally arrived.”

            Lumine glanced around as she sat down in the last empty chair.  Now that she was getting a closer look, everyone looked exhausted.  “Have you all been busy these past few days?”

            Dehya groaned and leaned back in her chair.  “Like you wouldn’t believe.  Ever since news got out about the Doctor showing up, everyone’s been freaking out about whether he’ll be back again, what else the Fatui might be planning, the works.”

            “The Matra and Corps of Thirty have been very busy searching for and clearing out Fatui camps around Sumeru,” Cyno explained.  “It was the most obvious thing we could do to keep the general public from getting too panicked over recent events.  Dehya offered her assistance as well, as did Rahman and his men.”

            “Everyone in Zubayr Theater has been busy helping out around the city,” Nilou added.  She paused to stifle a yawn.  “It’s been a lot of work handling all the various tasks that were left unmanaged when the Akasha suddenly went down.”

            “Meanwhile, Mr. Scribe here has been enjoying his cushy office job,” Dehya drawled.  “Don’t give me that look, I know I’m not the first person to point out that you’re the only one who doesn’t look like they haven’t slept since last week.”

            Alhaitham sighed.  “And I know you’re aware that I’m already over the usual limit on overtime due to the ridiculous amount of paperwork this situation has created.”  He paused to take a sip from his mug.  “Fortunately, the Akademiya has free coffee.”

            “Yeah, that’s too much of a hassle to take on the road.  It’s too much trouble to carry all the extras, and I still don’t know how anyone can stand to drink that stuff plain.”

            “We may be getting off topic again,” Cyno deadpanned.

            “Right.”  Alhaitham took another sip of his coffee before continuing.  “So, first order of business today is to get an explanation as to what exactly happened following the Lesser Lord’s mass transmission regarding the Balladeer and that oversized toy the Sages wanted to call a god.  The current picture is that the Balladeer was defeated and Irminsul was subsequently purified, but the Doctor suddenly appeared without warning or explanation, incapacitated the Lesser Lord, then disappeared, also without explanation.  This story obviously has many holes, which we need to at least attempt to fill in so as to have a proper foundation for any further plans we make.  To this end, I believe we should start by getting Lumine and Paimon’s view of events leading up to Cyno’s arrival in the Sanctuary of Surasthana, since they are the only presently available witnesses to said events.”

            “Sounds about right to me,” Dehya said.  “Let’s get to it.”

            Lumine sighed.  “Right.  Here’s what we know…”

***

            “Okay, let me make sure I have this straight.  So you’re telling us that the Doctor has… multiple bodies?  So when we saw him leaving on that boat, he was also not on the boat at the same time?”

            Paimon nodded.  “Yeah, that’s pretty much how we understand it.”

            Dehya blinked a few times, then leaned back in her chair.  “Alright, uh… wow.  That’s pretty crazy.  I mean, I believe you, and I’m sure the Lesser Lord wasn’t wrong either, but… still.  It’s just… wow.”

            “It’s certainly not something I would have considered as a possibility,” Cyno said.  “I can see how we were all blindsided by this.”

            Alhaitham nodded.  “Indeed.  Cyno, what is the Lesser Lord’s current status?”

            “Still unresponsive, as of this morning.  No changes that we’ve been able to observe.”

            Lumine shifted uncomfortably in her seat.  “About that… there was… another thing, in her message.”  She paused for a moment to consider the best way to word the information.  “It was… well… Nahida didn’t seem to think that she would wake up.”

            The room went dead silent.

            “In fact, she seemed pretty sure that she wouldn’t.”

            Dehya swore under her breath.  “So what you’re saying is…”

            “She recorded that message under the assumption that… Sumeru would have a new Archon soon.”

            Dehya swore again, more audibly this time.  “You’ve got to be kidding me.  I mean, I know we were already considering the possibility, but…”

            “The Lesser Lord’s acceptance of the fact gives it more weight,” Alhaitham said tonelessly.  He paused, seemingly thinking.  “Did she give a reason for this assumption?”

            Lumine hesitated for a moment.  “Y… yes.”

            “… but you cannot speak of it?”

            “I…”  She weighed the options.  “I… can, but… the information is highly sensitive.  It cannot leave this room.”

            “That makes sense,” Cyno said, folding his arms.  “Given the subject at hand.”

            “It’s really, really secret,” Paimon said.  She and Lumine had already discussed the matter back in Gandharva Ville, after Lumine had filled her in on the contents of the golden Knowledge Capsule.  “Someone could do something really bad with it.”

            Cyno nodded.  “I understand.  You have my silence.”

            “Same here.”  Dehya raised a hand to her mouth, and made a pinching motion.  “My lips are sealed.”

            “I won’t tell anyone,” Nilou said.  “I mean, Lesser Lord Kusanali trusted you with this, so if you tell me about it… then it’s kind of like the Lesser Lord is trusting me with the information, too, isn’t it?”

            Alhaitham folded his arms.  “You should already know that I don’t share anything without reason.”

            Lumine nodded.  “Okay, well… actually, most of you kind of already know something about this.  Nilou, you weren’t there, but does everyone else remember when that scholar in Rahman’s camp talked about a ‘Gnosis’?”

            “I think so,” Dehya said.  “It had something to do with the Sages building their god, right?  He said the Doctor had brought one from somewhere?”

            “Right.  So, a Gnosis is the symbol of an Archon’s status as Celestia’s chosen ruler of a nation.  It grants them additional power, kind of like a Vision, though an Archon doesn’t need their Gnosis to wield the elements.”

            “I see,” Alhaitham mused.  “I take it the Gnosis supplied by the Doctor was the power source for that giant eyesore?”

            “Right.”

            “Wait a minute,” Dehya cut in.  “You said these things are given to the Archons like Visions, right?  Where did the Doctor get one?”

            “He is a Fatui Harbinger,” Cyno said slowly.  “Said to have been granted power directly from the Tsaritsa.  Though… it does seem a little much for her to just hand over something like that, even to one of her top executives…”

            “It wasn’t the Tsaritsa’s Gnosis,” Lumine clarified.  “The Fatui have been going around collecting the other Archons’ Gnoses for… something.  I don’t actually know the specific reason, though I believe there is one.”

            Cyno’s eyes narrowed.  “They stole it from one of the other Archons, then.”

            “Uh… sort of?  That specific one, it was more like… they made a big enough threat to trade for it.  They’re not afraid to steal a Gnosis if they can, though.  They did, once.”  Lumine shuddered a little.  “And… they tried.  With Nahida.”

            “With…”  Nilou gasped.  “Is that why the Doctor…?”

            Lumine nodded.  “Yeah.  But… I think he messed up.”

            Dehya blinked.  “‘Messed up’?”

            Lumine nodded again.  “I didn’t see this myself, but Nahida said… her Gnosis ‘left’ after she was attacked.  Her guess was that it was going to find a new Archon.  So that’s why…”

            Cyno’s eyes widened a little, for just a moment.  “So that’s what that was.  The guards posted outside the Sanctuary reported seeing a glowing object fly through the doors just after they first heard the commotion inside.  That must have been the Gnosis.”

            “And that would seem to confirm the theory,” Alhaitham said.  “I imagine there’s no other known reason why a Gnosis would suddenly reject its rightful owner… though I also imagine not much is known about the subject in general.”

            “So the Doctor tried to murder the Lesser Lord for the source of her power,” Dehya muttered, “but screwed up and didn’t actually get her Gnosis.  I’m… not sure if that’s better or worse than if he’d actually gotten it.”

            Paimon blinked.  “How would it be worse?”

            “Well… obviously it’s good that those Fatui scum didn’t get the Gnosis, but… that kind of means all of this is for nothing, you know?  Like, our Archon’s dying, everything’s a mess, and for what?  The person who caused all this didn’t even get what he wanted in the end.”

            Alhaitham smiled wryly.  “Well, they do say that misery loves company.”

            Dehya snorted.  “Good point.  In fact, I think I’ll go ahead and share some extra misery with those rats next time we’re out hunting.  Archons know we’ve got plenty to go around…”

            “In any case,” Cyno said, “this does seem to confirm that, at the very least, we will need to prepare Sumeru for the second Dendro Archon.  Even if the Lesser Lord does eventually wake up, there’s not much we can do about the Gnosis having already gone in search of a successor.”

            Alhaitham nodded and took out a pen and some blank paper.  “Right.  I’ll start a list of tasks requiring attention.”

            Lumine started to nod, but then stopped and blinked as Cyno’s words fully registered.  “Wait… second Dendro Archon?”

            Doesn’t he mean third?

            Cyno gave her a strange look.  “Yes?”

            “Is something wrong?” Paimon asked.  “You look really confused all of a sudden.”

            “I…”  Lumine blinked again.  Is it something to do with Irminsul?  I know everyone else forgot about Rukkhadevata after Nahida erased her lingering consciousness, but…  “Sorry, I… I think I may have misunderstood something.  Who was… who was the Dendro Archon before, uh, the thing five hundred years ago?”

            Now everyone was staring at her strangely.  “Lesser Lord Kusanali was,” Alhaitham said, slowly, as if she had just asked something exceedingly stupid.  “Though I don’t believe she was called the ‘Lesser Lord’ back then.  Records are somewhat unclear regarding her past title.”

            “Probably yet another thing to thank those so-called ‘Sages’ for,” Dehya muttered darkly.  “Our Archon gave up all her memories and power to protect Sumeru from the Cataclysm, and what did they do as thanks?  Stuffed her in a bubble and tried to make everyone forget she even existed.  Bunch of ungrateful snakes.”

            “I was… uncomfortable… having to put her back, after the… incident,” Cyno admitted.  “I could see that Lumine was, too.  But… we didn’t have any better ideas.”

            “You were working with extremely limited time and resources,” Alhaitham said, “and were forced to choose from a number of bad options.  No rational individual can blame you for taking the option that seemed most likely to yield a positive result.”

            Cyno sighed.  “For what it’s worth, I was able to quickly explain the situation when the Lesser Lord briefly regained consciousness, and she appeared to understand.  I think… I think that’s the best we can really hope for, given the circumstances.”

            “It’s not fair,” Nilou said quietly.  She paused to wipe something from her eyes.  “I thought we’d done everything right, the plan was going so well, but… but in the end, Lesser Lord Kusanali’s still going to be replaced…”

            “That’s just how things turn out sometimes,” Alhaitham said.  He paused to take a drink from his mug, then made a face.  “Curses, my coffee’s gone cold.”

            Dehya gave an amused snort.  “Yeah, that tends to happen when you leave something hot sitting around too long.”

            “So I’ve noticed.”  He paused again.  “Strange.  I don’t usually have trouble finishing a cup of coffee before it gets cold, but it’s been happening regularly all week.”

            “Been filling your mug too often, Mr. Scribe?”

            “… actually, I think I’ve been filling it less often.  I’ve barely been able to step away from my desk, with all the paperwork that keeps piling up.”  Another pause.  “We’re getting off topic again.  Where were we?”

            “We were discussing something about Lesser Lord Kusanali,” Cyno said.  “I believe Lumine had some confusion regarding the Dendro Archon’s history.”

            “Uh, yeah, sorry,” Lumine said quickly.  “I think I’ve figured it out now.  I, uh, I think I heard someone say that Sumeru used to be ruled by a ‘Greater Lord’ before the Cataclysm, and thought, uh, thought that was someone else.”

            It was, but it doesn’t sound like anyone else remembers anymore.  Removing Greater Lord Rukkhadevata from Irminsul must have changed Teyvat’s memory of history, too.

            Paimon shrugged.  “Sounds reasonable to Paimon!  Maybe that’s what everyone called Nahida before.  Paimon wondered who she was supposed to be ‘lesser’ to.”

            “Maybe we should look into doing something about that,” Dehya mused.  “It’s hardly enough to make up for the last five hundred years, but… I think she’d be happy to have a title that isn’t a poorly-disguised insult.”

            “It’s certainly worth considering,” Alhaitham said.  “Right, so let’s move on to our next order of business – compiling a list of the major issues that need resolving at the moment, so that we can set priorities and start evaluating possible solutions.  This would, of course, be the Akademiya’s remit, but given that Lord Kusanali and the Sages of Amurta and Vahumana are presently indisposed, the rest of the Akademiya’s leadership has been summarily dismissed for gross misconduct, their immediate subordinates are all under investigation, and everyone else is in varying states of panic over the aforementioned points, this… ‘emergency council’… will presumably be considered an acceptable alternative.”

            “We should start by making sure everyone involved with the Sages’ plot has been properly dealt with,” Cyno said.  “I would rather not have some new scheme start brewing the moment the new Archon is found.”

            “Good point,” Dehya agreed.  “What’s the situation with the Sages’ ‘god’ right now?”

            “The Balladeer was successfully extracted from the wreckage of… whatever that giant humanoid machine he was controlling could be called.  He is being held by the Matra until a decision can be made as to how he will be dealt with.”

            “Uh, is that… safe?  I mean, I’m sure your guys are all really good at their jobs, but the Balladeer is a Harbinger.  Is it really safe to have someone that strong just… sitting around?”

            “I understand your concern, but for the time being it seems as safe as we can reasonably manage.  As Lumine explained before, the Balladeer is non-organic in nature.  He has sustained significant damage, and has thus far shown no signs of automatic self-repair on the level required to regain full functionality.  We will continue to monitor him, of course, but for now it seems unlikely that he will even regain consciousness without external assistance.”

            “Paimon remembers he fell out of that big machine’s face,” Paimon said.  “So like, a really long way.  He landed on his head, too.”

            Cyno nodded.  “That seems consistent with our observations.  There was a lot of damage from what appeared to have been a massive blunt impact, particularly to the head.  Whatever technology was used in his construction is unfortunately beyond our current ability to properly analyze, but we were able to identify what appeared to be the mechanical equivalent of a brain.  The ‘brain’ itself seemed more or less intact, but the observable connections to the rest of the body appeared to be severely compromised, and no longer functional.”

            “Um… well, Paimon didn’t really understand all of that, but it sounds like he’s pretty busted.  Which is good for us, so yay!”

            “It is indeed good news for us,” Alhaitham agreed.  “Returning to something resembling normalcy would be far more difficult if we also had to worry about containing such a dangerous individual, so him being indefinitely out of commission is very much to our benefit.”

            “As for that ridiculous contraption he was piloting,” Cyno continued, “it’s currently being kept as evidence, along with… well, basically the entire facility the Sages and Fatui built for the project.  There’s been some discussion on what to do with all of it after the necessary procedures have been carried out – someone suggested letting Kshahrewar and Spantamad have it for future research, which got a fair amount of support – but that isn’t really relevant for the time being.”

            “That’s something to keep on the back burner, then.”  Alhaitham paused to finish writing something in his notes.  “What’s the progress on clearing out Fatui remnants in the area?”

            “Slow, but it’s getting done.  We’ve also been finding more empty camps than usual in the last couple of days – I suspect the Fatui are catching on to the fact that they are now personae non gratae, and choosing to evacuate while they still can.”

            “Makes sense,” Dehya said with a shrug.  “Guess they’re not being paid enough to risk a beatdown, huh?”

            “The Fatui are also just kind of a mess sometimes,” Paimon said.  “Like, we’ve run into a bunch who don’t really seem to know what they’re actually doing, and some of them don’t even want to be there.  And… from what we’ve heard, a lot of the Harbingers aren’t very nice to the people who work for them.”

            “Low morale will wreak havoc on any organization,” Cyno mused.  “But again, that’s to our benefit in this situation.  In any case, I’ve begun to assign some Matra to start looking for the better-hidden individuals – spies, informants, and so on.  I’m sure the ongoing investigation into the Sages’ associates will turn up some more people with Fatui ties, as well.”

            “Right,” Alhaitham said.  “You seem to have that well in hand, so I’ll just put it down as something to keep an eye on for the time being.  On the subject of the Sages and their associates, the Akademiya is obviously having some staffing issues at the moment, compounded by the fact that we’re still in the process of determining who can and can’t be trusted.  There finally aren’t so many termination papers passing through my office anymore, but demotions are still being handed down left and right.  The selection process for new Sages can’t begin until things have stabilized, for obvious reasons, but we’ll need to start filling in some of the lower offices so operations don’t get too bogged down.”

            “That reminds me,” Cyno said, “I need to see about properly rejoining the Matra.  It hasn’t been an issue thus far – most of the Matra still don’t seem aware that I had resigned – but it’ll have to be done sooner or later.”

            “That shouldn’t be a problem.  I’ll send a message to the people in charge of hiring and employment; I suspect they’ll just have you outright reinstated as General Mahamatra, if your resignation even got fully processed in the first place.  It very well might not have.”

            “I see.  Thank you.”

            “No need.  Let’s see… right, and then there’s the issues caused by the shutdown of the Akasha.  The Akademiya is obviously having some difficulties here; the House of Daena doesn’t have enough copies of major texts to accommodate the sudden increase in demand, research has ground to a halt…”  Alhaitham sighed and rolled his eyes at that.  “Fortunately, the Akademiya did at least have the sense to maintain at least one physical copy of anything that went into the Akasha all these years, so loss of information isn’t… shouldn’t be a major concern.  Hopefully the Sages weren’t hiding something in the Akasha to avoid a paper trail…”

            Dehya groaned.  “They would do something like that, huh?  I don’t suppose there’s any way of checking?”

            “Not that I’m aware of, no.  The Akasha is currently completely inaccessible.”

            “We’ll just have to keep the possibility in mind,” Cyno said.  “I’ll question the former Sages about it; they’ve been… reasonably forthcoming, thus far.”

            “Let us know how that goes.  Nilou, you said Zubayr Theater has been helping with Akasha-related problems around the city?”

            Nilou nodded.  “Yeah.  The biggest problem is that a lot of people don’t actually know how to read, because they used the Akasha to read instead.  So now all the restaurants and cafés and such need people to read their menus to customers, a bunch of stores are having problems because people can’t read their signs and prices…”

            “We ran into a guy trying to deliver a letter,” Paimon added.  “But he didn’t actually know where to take it, because he couldn’t read the address.”

            “Yeah, that’s a big problem, too.  And you probably saw all the people waiting in front of stores and stuff?  Shopkeepers used the Akasha to calculate prices, too, so a bunch of them have to actually learn math now.  And even the people who already know how to do math are having trouble, because it’s way slower to do all the calculations by themselves than it was to just ask the Akasha what a customer’s total was.  A lot of people are really frustrated.”

            “Sheesh.  Paimon wouldn’t have thought Sumeru would have a problem with that sort of thing, with knowledge and wisdom being such a big deal here…”

            “You’d be surprised,” Alhaitham said flatly.  “The literacy rate is actually not much higher in Sumeru City than in other parts of the nation, despite the Akademiya having the ability to read and write as a basic requirement for admission.  The Akasha is just too convenient.  I imagine Port Ormos is having similar problems, as well.”

            “I’ve seen some of the reports from the Matra stationed there,” Cyno said.  “It’s… pretty bad.  Foreigners are generally doing fine, but local merchants are having some serious problems keeping up operations.  A lot of them are choosing to halt business to avoid the embarrassment of admitting that their service was dependent on the Akasha.”

            “Yikes,” Paimon said, “that is pretty bad.  So… we need to get everyone to learn to read and do math, then?”

            “No small task,” Alhaitham said, writing something down, “but certainly one with merit.  Whether the Akasha is restored or not, it will be worth it to avoid a potential repeat of this mess.”  He paused.  “Was there anything else?”

            “People in the city are also having a lot of trouble getting access to information,” Nilou replied.  “Since most people aren’t allowed to have books, it’s hard to look stuff up now that the Akasha doesn’t work anymore.  Also, some businesses were using the Akasha to manage their work, so now they have to figure out how to keep everything organized without it, and a few places big enough to use the Akasha for recordkeeping lost a bunch of their stuff.  I… think that’s all of the really big problems we noticed.”

            “The Matra have been complaining about the increased difficulty of communication,” Cyno said.  “Sending physical messages is obviously much slower than using the Akasha, where the latter had been an option.  Everyone is also tired and overworked in general, but I don’t know how much can really be done about that, given the circumstances.”

            “I haven’t really been around to see much, honestly,” Dehya admitted.  “Been too busy outside the city.”

            “And we just got back from Gandharva Ville,” Paimon said, “so we haven’t seen much either.  Nothing you guys haven’t already said, anyway.”

            “Very well.”  Alhaitham set down his pen before continuing.  “In that case, does anyone have any suggestions for how to start resolving these problems?”

            “I think we should start with the matter of the new Archon,” Cyno said.  “There is a lot of uncertainty regarding the nation’s leadership at this point in time, and the sooner we can start filling in the gaps, the better.”

            “It should help to know for certain who’s in charge,” Lumine said slowly.  “It’ll be good for morale, at least, and it should be easier to start fixing everything else with a definite leader in place, since there’ll be less doubt over the legitimacy of anything that needs to be done.”

            Cyno nodded.  “It’s also something we can start working on now, rather than later.  As previously stated, we are still unable to start the selection process for new Sages, but finding the new Dendro Archon should be a simpler matter.”

            “It’s not like we have to choose the Archon,” Dehya agreed.  “Heck, it’s not even our choice in the first place.”

            “The Archon has already been chosen,” Alhaitham said with a slight nod.  “We just have to find them.”

            “And we’re going to do it right this time,” Dehya declared, leaning forward to slam a fist against the desk.  “Not like those ‘Sages’ five hundred years ago, who found Lord Kusanali and immediately threw her away for not being what they expected anymore.”

            “The new Archon will likely be no more prepared for this situation than we are,” Cyno said.  “But that’d hardly be their fault, and we should at least give them a chance before passing judgment – if it can even be considered our place to judge a god.”

            “Lord Kusanali would want us to welcome the new Archon, I think,” Nilou agreed.  “This isn’t really how we wanted things to go, but it’s how things have turned out, so… all we can really do is make the best of it.”

            “That’s right!”  Paimon bobbed her head enthusiastically.  “Whether Nahida ever wakes up or not… she did a lot for Sumeru, so let’s make sure it was worth it!”

            “This isn’t over yet,” Lumine said, smiling.  “It’ll take a while, and it won’t be easy, but things are going to get better.”

            Even if Nahida hadn’t asked me to help… it wouldn’t feel right to just leave.

            Alhaitham cleared his throat.  “Alright, I think that’s enough morale-boosting for now.  It appears we’re in agreement regarding ‘what’ our first priority should be, so let’s move on to the ‘how’.  There’s not exactly a standard operating procedure for ‘How to Find Your Archon’, after all, as helpful as such a thing would be.”

            “Well, we know the Gnosis went to find them, right?”  Dehya leaned back in her chair again, twirling a lock of hair around one finger.  “At least, that’s the assumption we’re working on here.  So… maybe we could start by asking if anyone’s seen the Gnosis?”

            “A reasonable suggestion.”  Alhaitham picked his pen back up.  “Though execution may be a bit tricky, given the nature of the object in question.”

            “We certainly can’t just go around asking random people about an item they’re not supposed to know even exists,” Cyno mused.  “Perhaps we could just give a vague description, without actually saying what it is?  People would inevitably ask questions, though…”

            “Well, let’s start with what the Gnosis actually looks like,” Nilou said.

            Dehya nodded.  “Right, maybe that’ll help.  If it’s distinctive enough, maybe we don’t even have to tell anyone anything – people might have already seen it and be talking about it.  Lumine, from how much you seemed to know about the topic, I’m guessing you’ve probably seen a Gnosis before?”

            Lumine nodded.  “A few of them, yeah.  Not the Dendro Gnosis specifically, they’re all a bit different, but I can describe some of the common points.”

            “They glow, correct?” Cyno said.  “And can float and pass through walls, if the Sanctuary’s guards are to be believed.”

            “Well, I don’t know about the ‘pass through walls’ part, but yes to ‘glow’ and ‘float’.  And they look like chess pieces.”

            Alhaitham had started taking notes on her description of the Gnoses, but he suddenly stopped writing and looked up.  “Pardon?”

            “They look like chess pieces.  Uh, they’re gold, and have a big stone near the top, in the color of their element.”

            “Like a Vision,” Cyno noted.  “You did make that comparison before.”

            “Yeah.  And… that’s mostly it, I think?  They… might have their element’s symbol on the colored stone, but I’m not too sure about that part.  And I think, at least with the ones I’ve seen, the stone was the same shape as a Vision from their Archon’s nation…”  Lumine paused, and blinked.  “Uh, Alhaitham?  Is something wrong?”

            Cyno, Dehya, Nilou, and Paimon all turned to the person in question.

            Alhaitham had gone pale.  His eyes were wide.  He started to say something, stopped, then started again.

            “I saw the Gnosis.”

            Dehya blinked.  “You did?  Did you see where it went?”

            “It fell out of the sky and… stopped in front of me.”

            Everyone fell silent.

            “It was late at night, maybe a few hours after Lord Kusanali’s mass transmission.  I’d just gotten to Aaru Village an hour or two before.”

            Dehya’s jaw dropped.  Nilou’s hands flew to her mouth.

            “It floated in a circle around me, then disappeared.”

            Cyno’s arms crackled briefly with Electro.

            “It was late.  I’d been walking for most of the last two days.”

            Paimon’s eyes were like saucers.  Lumine suspected that hers were, too.

            “I thought… I was imagining things.  Or maybe my Akasha Terminal was acting up.”

            “… you’re the only one who doesn’t look like they haven’t slept since last week.”

            Dehya found her voice first.  “So, uh… how... exactly… do you identify an Archon?”

            Cyno’s eye twitched.

            Lumine swallowed.  “Uh… I…”

            Think, there has to be a way to confirm this…

            “I… know some people.  I can go talk to them, see if… they have any ideas…”

            Everything’s happening so fast.

            “How quickly can you do that?”  Cyno’s voice was flat, toneless.

            “It… depends.  It might take a day or two to get hold of some of them.  Maybe longer if… if they need more information.”

            If they want to check in person.

            Cyno nodded.  “Very well.  Let us know when you have an answer.”  He paused and turned to Alhaitham.  “You should remain in this building until then, Scribe.”

            Alhaitham nodded stiffly.

            Everyone else stared at each other for a moment.  No one seemed to know what to say all of a sudden.  Finally, Cyno stood and walked away from the desk, towards the elevator.  Dehya paused, then gave Alhaitham an awkward pat on the shoulder before getting up to follow Cyno.  Nilou quietly stood and excused herself, then followed as well.

            Lumine watched the elevator descend with the others, then stood and grabbed Paimon’s hand in preparation to leave.  She locked on to Liyue Harbor’s southern Teleport Waypoint, but paused and glanced back at Alhaitham just before sending the mental signal to warp.  “We’ll be back as soon as possible,” she promised.

            “Yeah!”  Paimon waved with her free hand.  “See you later!”

            Alhaitham looked up and nodded, his expression blank.

            Lumine could swear his eyes briefly flashed a brighter shade of green.

Chapter Text

            It took three days for Lumine and Paimon to return from… wherever they’d gone.

            It was the longest three days of Alhaitham’s life.

            From a logical perspective, he couldn’t argue with Cyno’s recommendation to stay in the Akademiya until they got an answer about… that thing.  Suddenly gutting a nation’s leadership would cause trouble anywhere; add on the sudden loss of Lord Kusanali, and the Akasha System on top of that, and you had a recipe for absolute chaos.  The last thing anyone needed right now was for the apparent most likely candidate for Sumeru’s new head of state to wander off and possibly get himself into trouble, especially with a major foreign threat still lurking and in the process of being cleared out.

            That didn’t mean Alhaitham had to like it.

            He tried not to think about it.  It wasn’t as if the Akademiya didn’t have enough going on to hold his attention for a few days.  There was certainly enough paperwork piling up in the Scribe’s office to keep him busy between the ridiculous number of hastily-called meetings over the various new problems that seemed to keep popping up, and the House of Daena had more than enough books to fill what little free time he still had after everything else was said and done.  And if that wasn’t enough, there was a certain architect, who somehow still had more questions, even after having supposedly questioned everyone else in the know.

            It really shouldn’t have been so hard to keep himself distracted.

            No matter what he did to try and banish the issue from his mind, it always seemed to find its way back.  He tried reading, but found that he couldn’t focus enough to process anything.  His eyes took in the words, but the information seemed to pass through his mind like water through a sieve.  He tried arguing with Kaveh when the latter came to yell at him for not coming home, but he couldn’t focus on that, either; words went in one ear and right out the other, until even Kaveh realized their conversation was going nowhere.  He could at least concentrate on his work and in meetings, but those inevitably led him right back to the topic he was trying to avoid.

            He worked, and worked, and worked, hoping to drown his thoughts in exhaustion, until a coworker concerned by the Scribe’s sudden industriousness all but dragged him out of his office, eighteen hours after he’d last been out of said office for anything other than a work meeting.

            Eighteen hours, and his mind was somehow still clear.

            No mental fog.  No visual distortion.  No imagined weight pulling down on his eyelids, or feeling of his eyes trying to fall out of their sockets.

            It was strange, to realize that he missed the feeling of having worked too hard.

            Finally, late in the afternoon of that third day, there was a knock on his office door.  He looked up from yet another stack of demotion papers that needed to be archived as Cyno – now officially reinstated as General Mahamatra (sort of; as expected, his resignation had never actually gone through) – opened the door and stepped inside.

            “Scribe Alhaitham,” Cyno said stiffly.  “Your presence is requested at the Sanctuary of Surasthana.”

            That location was not a good sign.

            Alhaitham normally disliked meaningless noise, but the silence that surrounded him and Cyno as they walked to the Sanctuary was unsettling, even with his headphones off.  With the Akademiya all but shut down in the aftermath of everything that had happened, most of its students and scholars had stopped coming in, and most of those who were still showing up had already left for the day.  In the resulting stillness, the dull thump of boots against floor tiles and cobblestones seemed unnaturally loud.

            Lumine and Paimon met them outside the Sanctuary.  Cyno nodded a silent greeting to them, then pushed the ornate double doors open and stood aside.  He did not follow as everyone else entered the massive chamber.

            Alhaitham looked towards the center of the room as the doors closed behind them with a thud.  The first things his eyes focused on were, of course, the large, spherical bubble suspended over the central platform, and the dormant god floating inside.  Lord Kusanali was unsettlingly still, with a steady stream of what appeared to be Dendro energy trickling from a hole in her chest.  It was slightly disturbing to see, firsthand, just how far the Fatui were apparently willing to go in pursuit of their goals.

            (She was even smaller than he’d expected.)

            The next thing he noticed was the two figures standing in front of the central platform – one tall, the other shorter.  The shorter person was wearing a green hat and cape, making them somewhat hard to see in the Sanctuary’s extremely green interior, aside from their dark hair; the taller figure was more easily visible, dressed in a long, predominantly brown jacket with various adornments, including a square-shaped Geo Vision.  Liyue, Alhaitham recalled, remembering the girl with the Pyro Vision and the strange bear he’d once seen on Treasures Street, chatting away with the various merchants about how she’d come to shop for local spices.

            “Venti, Zhongli,” Lumine called as she and Paimon led Alhaitham down the central walkway.  “He’s here.”

            The two people turned in their direction as they approached.  “Lumine,” the shorter person (what gender were they?) greeted.  “You’re back.”

            Alhaitham paused as Lumine and Paimon started talking to the two people.  There was… something strange… about them.  For starters, it was a little surprising that they had apparently been left alone in the Sanctuary with Lord Kusanali, even if Lumine had presumably vouched for them, assuming these were the people she’d wanted to speak to about… that.  There was also a sort of… tension, around them.  There suddenly seemed to be a subtle breeze in the room, with no apparent source, and when the tall man spoke, his words seemed to reverberate beneath their feet.  And while Alhaitham was no stranger to unusual eyes – his own were certainly on the far side of “odd” – he didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone with eyes so bright and vividly colored that they almost seemed to glow.

            Whoever these two people were, they were not normal.

            “So this is the person you wanted us to meet,” the tall man said, bringing Alhaitham out of his thoughts.

            Lumine blinked.  “Oh, uh, yeah.  Uh, this is Alhaitham.  He’s the Akademiya’s Scribe.  Alhaitham, this is Venti – ”  Lumine paused to indicate the short person.  “ – and that’s Zhongli.”  The tall man.

            “I see,” Venti said with a grin that seemed entirely out of place, given the situation.  “Nice to meet you, Alhaitham!”

            “Likewise.”  Alhaitham wasn’t sure if he should say anything else.

            (He hadn’t been sure about a lot of things these past few days, admittedly.)

            “A pleasure,” Zhongli said with a nod, “though the circumstances are rather unfortunate.  Lumine has told us that there was an… incident… which led to the matter requiring our input.  Apologies for taking some time to come; there was a situation at my job that prevented me from getting time off, so I was unavailable until now.”

            “And this old blockhead insisted I wasn’t allowed to come by myself,” Venti said with another cheeky grin, jabbing a thumb in Zhongli’s direction.  “Apparently said I’d cause a public incident or something.”

            Zhongli glared slightly, but did not deny the statement.

            “There was one other person we talked to,” Paimon said, “but something came up at the last second and she couldn’t come.  But she wasn’t sure if she knew anything useful anyway, so it should be fine.”

            “Right!” Venti said with a clap of their hands (he still wasn’t sure of their gender).  “So, your Archon’s Gnosis decided to go sightseeing, we heard?  And you and your friends were talking about chasing it down when you remembered something absurd?”

            “That’s… correct,” Alhaitham said slowly.  He decided not to comment on the incredibly forced-sounding rhyme, or debate whether the members of their “emergency council”, as he’d called it, were close enough to be considered friends.

            “Let’s not stall any further, then,” Zhongli said, cutting off what would presumably have been another confusing remark from Venti.  “You have reason to believe that you are currently in possession of the Dendro Gnosis, and not merely in the sense of ‘you have it on your person’.  You are thus looking to confirm this, so as to avoid further public confusion.”

            “… yes.  That’s correct.”

            (He didn’t want it confirmed, exactly, but this didn’t seem like the time to argue over semantics, even if he’d personally appreciate the detour into more familiar territory.)

            “I see.  Please follow my instructions, then.  You appear to have a Vision, so I assume you know how to channel elemental energy?”

            “Yes.”

            “Then go ahead and do so now, as you normally would.”

            Alhaitham did as instructed, holding a hand in front of him and pushing some Dendro energy out through his palm and fingertips.  It felt a little strange, and it occurred to him that as he’d somehow managed not to get attacked by anything on the way back to Sumeru City, he hadn’t actually used his elemental powers since that night in Aaru Village.

            Venti glanced at Alhaitham’s left shoulder.  “His Vision is inert.  Just metal and glass.”

            That… was not something he’d wanted to hear.

            Zhongli nodded.  “I see that, too.  That alone isn’t enough for confirmation, but it does increase the likelihood of this next test having a… particular result.”  He paused.  “Let me put this directly.  The best way to positively identify someone as the wielder of a Gnosis is simply to have that person show the Gnosis, which is normally stored within the body.  We are now going to have you attempt to produce the Dendro Gnosis.”

            Alhaitham blinked.  That was… very direct.  “I… see.”

            (Who exactly were these two?  Just how much did they know, and how had Lumine even met them?)

            “Now, this step might take some effort to figure out.  The best way I can describe it is, it’s something like if you’d suddenly grown a new body part, and had to learn how to use it.  As you might imagine, this can be somewhat… unintuitive.”

            “It might help to think of the Gnosis as sort of a second heart,” Venti added.  “In fact, the original word for ‘Gnosis’ actually meant ‘Heart of God’, but, uh, we stopped using that word a long time ago.  It was… kind of weird, if you thought about it too much.”

            “Right.  Now then, channel some more elemental energy, and see if you can sense a… focal point, inside you.”

            Alhaitham did as instructed.  He… could kind of feel what Zhongli had described.  There was something in his chest – somewhere around where he assumed his heart to be, like Venti’s suggestion had implied – a spot where the Dendro energy seemed to concentrate…

            “Once you have found it, try to push it out.”

            What?  That… well, it made some sense.  He wasn’t sure how to do that, though; it wasn’t as if he had any muscles that could do such a thing, given how incredibly stupid it would be for a living thing to voluntarily eject its own heart.  Maybe using elemental energy…?

            Zhongli watched as Alhaitham fumbled with that strange… thing… inside him.  The other man seemed to consider something.  “Close your eyes and concentrate on that point as much as you can.  As I said, this can take some effort to figure out.”

            Alhaitham did as he was told.  Pushing elemental energy into the spot seemed to be having some effect, but he wasn’t sure it was going any –

            A fist slammed into his solar plexus.

            Alhaitham’s eyes flew open.  He stumbled backwards in pain.  There was a pop of Dendro energy, and his hand instinctively moved to catch the small, faintly-glowing thing that suddenly materialized in front of him, even as he doubled over, pressing his other hand against the spot where he’d been punched and gasping for breath.

            “Wha – Zhongli!”  That was Paimon.  He’d almost forgotten that she and Lumine were still there.  “What the heck was that for?!”

            Zhongli calmly withdrew his fist.  “I decided to offer some assistance.  It should be easier for him to figure out how to do it by himself, now that he knows what it should feel like.”

            “Minus, you know, the surprise punch in the stomach,” Venti snarked.

            Alhaitham blinked as the pain finally started to subside a little, and his eyes focused on the seemingly-innocuous object in his hand.  Gold and Dendro green.  A large, round stone near the top.  He wasn’t quite sure which piece it was supposed to be.  The top sort of came to a point, if he squinted, so maybe a bishop?

            He suddenly understood what Venti had meant about the phrase “Heart of God”.  It was… somewhat disconcerting, to imagine that he was holding his own heart.  Not to mention that it had apparently come out of Lord Kusanali’s body.

            (He also suddenly realized why the Doctor had put a hole through her chest.  It was still disturbing.)

            Voices pulled him from his thoughts.  “Is that it, then?” Paimon asked.  “That… pretty much proves it, right…?”

            “The Gnoses don’t allow just anyone to wield them,” Venti said with a nod.  “There’s really no other reason one would accept its holder to the extent we just saw.”

            Alhaitham felt his stomach drop.  It had nothing to do with the fact that he was still recovering from getting punched.

            (He didn’t want this.)

            Zhongli smiled wryly.

            “Congratulations, Alhaitham.  You’re the Dendro Archon.”

***

            …

            ... it’s… dark…

            …

***

            Alhaitham had never believed much in fate.  The concept had always been an excuse at best, in his eyes.  A convenient scapegoat for those too weak to admit their own failings, or too proud to accept the achievements of others.  A flippant dismissal of the truth.

            He wondered if fate was laughing at him now.

            He’d somehow managed to maintain an outward appearance of composure in front of the others, even as his mind made an impressive attempt at emulating the flight pattern of a deflating balloon.  Given what he’d just had confirmed to him, he could probably have forgiven himself if his self-control had slipped a little, but he wouldn’t have liked remembering it later.

            That, at least, had not wound up being a concern.

            He had, finally, gotten an explanation as to who those two people in the Sanctuary were; though he’d more or less guessed from the amount they seemed to know about the subject at hand, he did appreciate knowing that he’d been right.  Venti – who Lumine had finally indicated was male, in an offhand comment about his drinking habits of all things – was Lord Barbatos, the Anemo Archon of Mondstadt, and Zhongli was Rex Lapis Morax, the supposedly-deceased (but actually just mostly-retired) Geo Archon of Liyue.  That said, after the formal introductions, both had asked to just be referred to by their personal names, so as to avoid misspeaking around those who weren’t aware of their true identities.

            The other person Paimon had mentioned talking to before, who hadn’t been able to come, was apparently Inazuma’s Raiden Shogun Baal, the Electro Archon.  Something seemed to be up with that one – Alhaitham had noticed the way Lumine paused before saying “Baal”, and it was perhaps significant that neither she nor Paimon had told him the Shogun’s personal name.  He’d maybe ask about that some other time.

            (He also made a mental note to ask exactly how those two had managed to become personal friends with so many Archons, to the point that they could have been back within a day, if not for Zhongli getting held up by his “mortal” job.)

            Venti and Zhongli had also explained a few things about the actual process of becoming an Archon.  “A few”, because most of the details were unknown even to them.  But what they did know was that normally, when one became a god – an obvious prerequisite to becoming one of The Seven – the ascension to godhood was indicated by a sudden “invitation” to Celestia, where one would be given their divine name, and have their divine ideal officially confirmed.

            For some reason, that had not happened in this case.  Neither of the older Archons knew why, though apparently Celestia had been strangely quiet for the past few centuries.

            Alhaitham wasn’t particularly disappointed.  It allowed him some semblance of still just being a normal person, and he got the sense that visiting Celestia wasn’t very pleasant anyway, from the way Venti subtly fidgeted while speaking of it.

            Aside from that, there wasn’t really much else to know.  As Sumeru’s new Archon, he was free to rule the nation in whatever manner he deemed appropriate.

            After making that point, the other Archons had asked if he had any questions.

            Alhaitham’s first question, of course, had been, “How do I get rid of the Gnosis?”

            Admittedly, that wasn’t really the question he’d meant to ask.  It wasn’t like him to speak carelessly like that, but his mind was still a little fried from the realization that he had somehow managed to accidentally become the Dendro Archon.  He supposed he could excuse himself for getting a little sloppy with his words in this case, though he’d definitely have to get his head back on straight sooner rather than later.

            Fortunately, Venti and Zhongli had evidently been around long enough to know what he’d actually meant.  “How do I step down from being Archon?”  The answer was that, well, there really wasn’t anything stopping him.  Attempting to destroy the Gnosis was inadvisable (Celestia would not be happy, to say the least), but he was free to simply give it away if he really wanted to – Zhongli had done so when he’d retired – though this had its obvious risks.  And even if he kept the Gnosis, being free to rule however he saw fit meant he could also not rule, if he so chose.  Venti had very openly and cheerfully stated that he was really only Mondstadt’s Archon in the sense that the throne was not simply open for just anyone to walk up and claim; he had next to nothing to do with the nation’s governance, and was perfectly happy to leave things that way so long as the people weren’t doing something blatantly contrary to the basic concept of a Nation of Freedom.

            Passing down the title of Archon, on the other hand, was a bit more difficult.

            The obvious issue, of course, was that the Gnosis was Celestia’s official sanction for its wielder to rule.  For a new Archon to take the throne, they would first have to be accepted by their nation’s Gnosis, and the basic requirements for an acceptable candidate meant the pool of eligible successors was fairly shallow.  For starters, one first had to have the potential to become a god, which Visions were apparently an indicator of.  Second, Archon candidates obviously had to be from the nation they were being assigned to rule, and wield said nation’s element – again, as indicated by their Vision.

            So that reduced the pool of candidates for the position of Dendro Archon to just Dendro Vision holders from Sumeru.  That wasn’t a lot of options.

            And even after all that, the Gnosis wasn’t guaranteed to accept his chosen successor.

            Alhaitham was a practical man.  He didn’t bother with things that weren’t important to him, at least where he could help it.  He had no interest in ruling a nation.  In fact, he had already turned down one such offer – shortly after he’d returned to the Akademiya, it had been suggested that he might be the current most suitable candidate to take up the position of Grand Sage, now that Azar had been deposed.  He had rejected that idea as soon it was brought up to him, in no uncertain terms; he had no desire to deal with the increased workload that would come with a promotion to Sage, much less Grand Sage.

            He had not been asked if he wanted to be the Dendro Archon.  He had not been given the opportunity to refuse.

            He could simply walk away, but that would leave no one on the throne, while Sumeru was in chaos and in desperate need of a clear leader.  And the odds of finding someone to take the position from him were… low, to say the least.

            Alhaitham was a practical man.  He could see when something had to be done.

            Even if the person who had to do it wouldn’t like it.

            It was dark out, now.  He was alone in the Sanctuary of Surasthana, aside from Lord Kusanali, who was unfortunately unlikely to wake up any time soon.  Lumine, Paimon, and the other Archons had left him to sort out his thoughts, with promises to return the next day (Lumine and Paimon), or when they next had time (the Archons).  There was a lot still left to figure out – how to make the necessary announcements, who to share certain information with, and likely a thousand other things that hadn’t occurred to them in the moment.

            It was good to know he would have help, at least.

            Alhaitham sat on the edge of the Sanctuary’s central podium, staring at the unusual Knowledge Capsule Lumine had handed him before she’d left with the others.  “A message from Lord Kusanali,” she’d said.

            He removed his headphones and inserted his Akasha Terminal into his left ear.  Nothing appeared on the holographic display when he turned it on – the Akasha was still down, after all – but the Knowledge Capsule connected with no issues when brought within range.

            [Source detected.  Download? (Yes/No)]

            [Yes]

***

            Hello.

            I am… Lesser Lord Kusanali.  But you can call me Nahida.  I am the Dendro Archon, God of Wisdom, avatar and guardian of Irminsul.

            If you are receiving this message, then I am most likely dead.

            If no one has told you yet, I was attacked by Il Dottore, Second of the Fatui Harbingers, also known as the Doctor, in an attempt to obtain the Dendro Gnosis.  But if you have received this message, then it would seem that his attempt has failed.  I don’t think my death was part of his plan, but if it has helped keep the Gnosis out of the Fatui’s hands, then I suppose it can be considered a worthwhile exchange.

            I will assume you received the Knowledge Capsule containing this message from Lumine, otherwise known as the Traveler.  If that is the case, then you must be my successor, the Second Dendro Archon.  It’s nice to meet you!  Well, to the extent that this can really be considered “meeting”, considering I’m not actually there.

            In any case, I’m recording this message to wish you luck as the new Dendro Archon, and to share some information you might find useful.

***

            Alhaitham listened as the childlike voice spoke in his mind.  That had definitely been no ordinary Knowledge Capsule; most information downloaded through an Akasha Terminal was inserted into the mind in a form somewhat like a memory – there was no processing required, nothing to actually see or hear, the recipient just knew the information they’d been given.  But this message was more like an actual recording – he could hear Lord Kusanali’s voice so clearly, it was almost as if she was actually speaking to him in person.

            Lord Kusanali’s voice spoke of many things.  A fair amount, he already knew – the explanation of the Doctor’s segments, a quick rundown of Sumeru’s history and government structure (or what the structure would be, if it hadn’t just been shredded in a coup), a general summary of the Akademiya.  He couldn’t fault Lord Kusanali for trying to cover all the bases, though; she probably hadn’t known exactly who her successor would be, so it made sense to assume they’d know nothing, just in case.

            It didn’t hurt to have an explanation of these things straight from the original Archon herself, either.  Sumeru had many sources of information, but not all of them could be trusted.

            There was some new information, as well.  In particular, Lord Kusanali had managed to learn a surprising amount about the Balladeer, apparently by looking through his thoughts and memories during the construction of the Sages’ “god” (the “Shouki no Kami”, she called it).  The fact that he’d been created by the Electro Archon was interesting, and explained the technology gap Cyno had mentioned before.  The part about the Doctor’s apparent role in the Balladeer’s life – taken directly from the Doctor’s memories – was also noteworthy.  All useful information; Alhaitham carefully filed it away for later consideration.

            (He also noticed that Lord Kusanali called the Electro Archon “Beelzebul”.)

            There was an in-depth explanation of Irminsul that he decided to come back to later, when he had a better handle on… everything else.  Watching over that tree – and, by extension, the many, many things it was connected to – was yet another new responsibility being dumped onto his plate, as if simply being the god of a nation wasn’t already enough.  Thankfully, it also seemed that, for the most part, Irminsul could more or less be left alone; problems requiring actual attention were, apparently, incredibly rare.

            Considering the potential consequences of said problems, this was a good thing.  Maybe if he was lucky, nothing serious would ever come up, and he could simply ignore that part of his new job description.

            The message went on.  Through it all, Alhaitham found himself surprised by just how calm Lord Kusanali had apparently been, as she recorded all this information for an unknown successor she had no expectation of ever getting to meet, mere moments after she’d essentially been murdered.  There was… a bit of resignation in her voice, too.  As if being ripped open and left for dead by an enemy she couldn’t have hoped to defend herself against, not even two days after she’d finally been released from five hundred years of wrongful imprisonment by her own people, was just another thing that had happened in her life.

            It was… just a little bit sad.

***

            I… suppose the last thing I can share would be… what I had planned to do in the future.  I don’t expect you to do things exactly as I would have, but it’s always good to share ideas.

            From what I can tell, it would appear that the Akasha System shut down due to loss of power when the Dendro Gnosis left me.  I don’t know if it has since resumed functioning, but I had intended to shut it down regardless.  Sumeru has grown too dependent on the Akasha, to the detriment of its people’s curiosity and independent thought.  Of course, since your receipt of this message means I am no longer the Archon, the final decision is entirely up to you.

            I’d also wanted to do something about the various problems my… absence… has allowed to take root over the last five hundred years.  It would be good to start repairing the relationship between the rainforest and the desert – that problem started well over five hundred years ago, but it definitely worsened a lot more quickly after the Cataclysm, with all the consequences that followed.  The Akasha’s effects on the people’s critical thinking and creativity, as previously noted, will also take some work to reverse, as will the Akademiya’s recent campaign against the arts.  I haven’t really had a chance to come up with any concrete plans for achieving these goals, and I imagine recent events have left far more pressing issues for you to deal with, but I’m sure you can work these things out in due time, if you feel that doing so would be worthwhile.

            If there’s one thing gods have, it’s time.

            Unfortunately for me, it seems my time has suddenly been cut short.  I don’t have much left, so this will have to be the end of this message.

            I’m glad I at least had the chance to speak to you.  I wish I had time to actually meet you, and speak with you, but… we can’t always get what we want.

            Thank you for listening to me… Dendro Archon.

            I believe in you.

            I believe in Sumeru.

            Goodbye!

***

            Alhaitham stood, and turned to look up at his predecessor, unmoving and silent in what had once been her meditation field, then her prison.  Now… he wasn’t really sure what to call it, now.  It was once again being used to contain her, but was “imprisoned” really the right word, if it was for her own benefit?

            Regardless, the facts of the situation were clear.

            Lord Kusanali was presently in no condition to rule.

            The Dendro Gnosis had chosen him to take her place.

            He would have to hold things together.

            Alhaitham took a deep breath.

            He hoped Lord Kusanali would wake up soon.

Chapter Text

            Thunder rumbled in the distance as Zhongli stepped into the circular field on Guyun Stone Forest’s northeastern island.

            Geo energy rippled through the cobblestones, starting from the outer edges of the field and moving inward.  The energy coalesced at the center of the circle, rising from the ground in a mass that slowly formed into a translucent, brightly-glowing octahedron.  After a moment, eight cubes of solid Geo materialized as well, whirling around the glowing prism and forming up into a two-by-two-by-two three-dimensional grid.

            Zhongli gazed silently at the elemental lifeform that had appeared before him.

            Breathe in.  Breathe out.

            There was a deafening CRACK as a gold-and-black spear lanced through the being’s core and into the ground, the outer Geo shell shattering like spun glass.

            Zhongli didn’t bother to turn and look at the three stone pillars he knew had formed up around him.  A quick pulse of his own Geo energy, and the two closest to him collapsed into rubble; the third column, he lifted into the air and smashed against the ground, all with a casual wave of his hand.

            Another flick of his wrist, and a nearby pebble flew across the arena to strike the rapidly-destabilizing core, which promptly burst in a flash of golden-yellow light.

            “Apologies, Gimel,” Zhongli said as he moved to retrieve the Vortex Vanquisher.  “My companions and I would like to borrow this space for a short while.”

            To be fair, it wasn’t as if that elemental nuisance wouldn’t just be back within a few hours.  He’d certainly made quite a few attempts at permanently removing it from this spot over the centuries – this circular field had once been popular as a place for merchants from Liyue and Inazuma to stop and trade, up until the perpetually-regenerating annoyance people now knew as the Geo Hypostasis had suddenly appeared there one day.  It had probably spawned from some unknown aberration in the Ley Lines.

            Problems like this, that just wouldn’t go away, were always caused by the Ley Lines.

            Zhongli sighed.  At least there was one good thing about the Geo Hypostasis taking up residence in that spot.  The Guyun Stone Forest was already fairly remote, and with a dangerous and hostile elemental lifeform around, people now mostly avoided that particular island.  It was thus an ideal location for anyone who could reliably dispatch that Geo nuisance to conduct any business they would prefer to be kept secret.

            For instance, an emergency “foreign policy” meeting between three Archons.

            Lightning flashed atop one of the ancient stone spires surrounding the island.  There was a clap of thunder, and then Zhongli was no longer alone in the field.

            The dark-haired woman greeted him with a nod, Electro-violet eyes seeming to glow faintly in the dim moonlight.  “Morax.”

            “Beelzebul.”  Zhongli turned to face the God of Eternity.  “Good to see that you were able to come.”

            “The earlier problem has been dealt with.  I can also now assure you that Miko will not be causing our new colleague any problems, at least in the immediate future.”  She paused and took a quick glance around.  “Has Barbatos not arrived yet?”

            “Not – ”  Zhongli paused as a particularly strong gust of wind blew past him.  “My apologies.  It would appear that I spoke too soon.”

            “Hi Zhongli, hi Ei!”  A tiny, floating thing in what appeared to be a white cloak came twirling over to them, the rabbit-ear-like protrusions on the cloak’s hood bobbing cheerfully in the wind.  There was a slight burst of Anemo energy as the wind sprite was suddenly replaced by a boy wearing a green hat and cape.  “Have I missed anything?”

            Zhongli sighed.  “Hello, Barbatos.  No, we’ve both only just arrived as well.”

            “Oh, good!  Sorry I ran a bit late, Angel’s Share was having a surprise promotion and I kind of lost track of time, ehe.”

            “… Venti, please do not tell us you have decided to show up drunk.”

            “Of course not, I was getting something for the three of us to share!”  Sure enough, Venti produced a sealed bottle of wine from somewhere inside his cape.  “I was going to bring more, but it was a pretty tough crowd at the plaza today.”

            Zhongli forced himself not to sigh again.  He was already starting to get a headache.

            He sometimes wondered if Venti was capable of taking anything seriously.

            Venti started to say something else, but Ei managed to speak first.  “Let’s move on to the actual purpose of this meeting.  The two of you met the new Dendro Archon?”

            “That is correct,” Zhongli said.  He pointedly ignored Venti pouting at the interruption.  “His name is Alhaitham.  Adult male, appears to be human – or formerly human, as the case may be.  Assuming he was, in fact, human, I would estimate his age to be somewhere in the range of twenty to thirty years, likely closer to thirty.”

            “I see.  Very young, then, but not specifically created for the Gnosis.”  She paused.  “To be honest, the latter scenario would probably actually be more ideal.”

            “Yeah, at least as far as the initial adjustment period,” Venti agreed.  “He tried to hide it, but it was pretty obvious that this whole ‘suddenly being a god’ thing had really thrown him for a loop, even before he asked how to get rid of the Gnosis.”

            Ei blinked.  “Oh?”

            “He was… not very enthusiastic about the idea of being Archon,” Zhongli said slowly.  “Though I suspect part of that is just his personality.  He did not seem particularly… expressive.”

            “For what it’s worth,” Venti said with a shrug, “I think he more or less accepted it in the end.  And Lumine said he’s really smart and does everything super-logically, so we… probably don’t need to worry about him going and doing something dumb on impulse.”

            “That is reassuring,” Ei said, nodding.  “And if I remember correctly, Lumine said he’s… some kind of government official?”

            “That’s correct,” Zhongli confirmed.  “He is employed by the Sumeru Akademiya, which is both a school and Sumeru’s main governing body.  He is their Scribe, which, if I understood correctly, is the member of their central administration responsible for most of the organization’s recordkeeping duties.”

            “I see.”  She paused.  “And what of Buer?”

            Zhongli took a deep breath before replying.  “It’s difficult to say.  She didn’t show any signs of consciousness while we were there, and neither Lumine nor Paimon could tell if there was any difference in her condition compared to immediately after the attack.  It’s possible that she may eventually wake up; it’s also possible that she will not, whether that means fully dying, or simply remaining permanently unconscious and suspended in the Sanctuary of Surasthana.”

            “No assumptions, then.”

            “Correct.”

            They were all silent for a moment.

            “How would the two of you suggest handling this?” Ei finally asked.  “I have… some thoughts, but I’m aware that my experience is… somewhat limited.”

            “I’d say the Fatui are getting a little out of hand,” Venti said, his expression turning unusually serious.  “I mean, taking advantage of Dvalin’s illness and attacking me right in the middle of Mondstadt was one thing, but…”

            “Their recent habit of causing major incidents in the process of achieving their goals is concerning,” Zhongli agreed.  “I will fully admit that Osial’s release was my idea, but I at least made sure to keep that situation well under control.  Had the Fatui attempted anything outside the boundaries of my contract with the Tsaritsa, the deal would immediately have been off.  I certainly would not have tolerated them attempting to usurp control of the nation, given that the entire point of the agreement was for Liyue’s people to start leading themselves.”

            “I… can’t say for certain that I would have acted sooner had I known the degree to which the Fatui had taken over Inazuma,” Ei admitted.  “And I fully accept that I enabled the problems they caused with my negligence.  But… what was the reason for it, if all they really wanted was the Electro Gnosis?”

            “I think that’s what it really comes down to in the end,” Venti mused.  “If the Tsaritsa had just asked you or me for our Gnoses, we could probably have just talked it out like the old blockhead did.”  He ignored the unamused look Zhongli gave him.  “Nahida would probably have been willing to negotiate, too; maybe only with some… ‘convincing’… but nothing as extreme as tempting her people into building an artificial god, then outright trying to kill her when Plan A fell through.”

            “Right, and Inazuma is still in the process of cleaning up all the problems the Fatui left behind.  The Vision Hunt and Sakoku Decrees were one thing, but attacking Tatarasuna and destroying the wards on Yashiori Island?  The Delusion factory?  What purpose did any of that serve, except to make Inazuma’s people suffer?”

            “The Tsaritsa’s ultimate objective is noble,” Zhongli said with a nod.  “Assuming, of course, that it is what she claims, and she is not merely deceiving us for power.  But even with that assumption, the Fatui’s recent methods and the collateral damage they’ve left in their wake are simply unacceptable – to say nothing of what they might attempt with further resources, if their experiment with the Electro Gnosis is of any indication.”

            Ei nodded.  “Sumeru will have our support, then, if only to keep the Dendro Gnosis out of the Fatui’s hands until we can be sure they won’t use it for more nefarious ends.  To what degree should we act?”

            “We should avoid direct involvement, unless there is an immediate threat of the Dendro Gnosis being taken.  Alhaitham is the Dendro Archon; Sumeru is his nation, not any of ours.  If he has questions, answer them.  If he’s open to suggestions, feel free to make some, but leave actual decisions to him.  And don’t interact with anyone else, if it can be helped – again, we want to avoid direct involvement.”

            “We’re helping out, not trying to usurp him in the Fatui’s place,” Venti agreed.  “I think Sumeru’s already had enough people trying to replace their Archon, with what was apparently going on with Nahida these past five hundred years.”

            Ei frowned slightly at that.  “With regards to that… I hope history doesn’t wind up repeating itself here.  Sumeru didn’t actually lose an Archon to the Cataclysm, but with Buer expending all of her power and memories, the effect would have been more or less the same.  She essentially just replaced herself.”

            Venti blinked.  “That’s… a good point.  And public opinion of her is probably really high right now, if only because people have just found out what was done to her…”

            Zhongli nodded, his expression turning grim.  “A young, unprepared god unexpectedly dropped into the role of Archon, right after the sudden loss of their highly-revered predecessor.  Public pressure will mount quickly, especially with most of the nation’s human government abruptly removed and still in need of replacement.”

            “Yeah, that sounds pretty bad… and there’s not really anything that can be done about that, is there?  Aside from just doing your best to keep everything under control, and hoping things get better soon…”

            “Not much.  We can only hope that the people will be understanding of the situation… or that Alhaitham quickly proves himself extremely effective.”

***

            Lumine watched as Cyno, Dehya, and Nilou filed into the Sanctuary of Surasthana, and down the central walkway.  It was still fairly early in the morning, and she could clearly see the effects of the time, combined with all the work everyone had no doubt been putting into keeping the city running amidst the chaos; Dehya paused briefly to yawn and stretch, and the shadows under Cyno’s eyes were now distinctly visible, even beneath his headdress.  Nilou didn’t really show any of the more obvious signs, but Lumine still noticed the way her head bobbed absently as she walked, and the way she blinked just a little too slowly.

            The past several days were taking their toll on everyone, it seemed.

            Cyno nodded in greeting as he and the others stopped in front of the central platform.  “Lumine.  Paimon.”  He paused, and turned to the Sanctuary’s final occupant.  “… Scribe.”

            Alhaitham was sitting on the edge of the central podium, head down, elbows resting on his knees.  He did not respond.

            “… so,” Dehya said, “I assume you managed to talk to… whoever it was you wanted to talk to.  Did they… know?”

            “And if so,” Cyno added, “what was the proof?”

            “Uh, well…”  Paimon fidgeted a little.  “Yeah, they did.  The proof…”

            “Here it is.”

            Everyone paused for a moment, then turned to the person who’d spoken.

            Alhaitham still hadn’t looked up, but he was now holding one hand in front of him, palm up.  A small, gold-and-Dendro-green object floated above it.

            Lumine knew he’d already expected someone to ask that question.  It had taken him some effort to get the Gnosis out again.

            Everyone stared for a few seconds.  Dehya managed to speak first.  “So that’s a Gnosis, huh?  It’s… not as impressive as I thought it would be.  Uh, no offense.”

            “None taken.”

            “It really doesn’t look all that dangerous, does it?” Nilou said slowly.  “If you hadn’t told us what the Gnoses looked like the other day, I’d just think it was a decoration, or a piece from a really fancy chess set.  Not… an Archon’s Vision, or however you described it.”

            “That is pretty definitive proof, though,” Dehya said.  “I mean, I can’t really say this is what I expected, but it’s kind of hard to argue – ”

            “I’m not sure why any of us are really surprised.”

            Lumine blinked and turned towards the source of the interruption.  “Cyno?”

            Cyno didn’t respond to her.  His eyes were fixed squarely on Alhaitham, and when he spoke again, his voice was cold.  “We all should have seen this coming.  Or at least seen things for what they were when everything started going wrong.  You’ve been leading us along this whole time, haven’t you, Scribe?”

            The room fell silent.  Lumine could swear she heard a pin drop.

            Alhaitham slowly looked up, locking eyes with Cyno.  “What are you implying, General Mahamatra?”

            Cyno glared.  “You can drop the act.  You’re not going to fool me anymore.”

            “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

            “Um,” Paimon cut in, “Cyno, is there something we missed?  Paimon’s not sure what’s going on, why are you – ”

            “I think it’s really quite obvious.”  Cyno’s voice was like frozen steel.  “It all lines up just a little too perfectly.  Who made the plans for Jnagarbha Day?  Who directed everyone along for the preparations?  Who just happened to be conveniently out of the city when it all suddenly fell apart, just as everything seemed to have been resolved?”

            He paused.  “And now, after all that, who is sitting here, holding the Dendro Gnosis?”

            “Wait, wait, wait,” Dehya cut in.  “Are you suggesting that Alhaitham set all this up with the intent of becoming Archon?”

            “I am not suggesting anything.  The facts line up too perfectly.”

            “Cyno, did we attend the same meeting a few days ago?  We all saw his reaction when Lumine described the Gnosis, he clearly had no idea until that moment – ”

            “We know he’s an excellent actor.  The plan to deceive Azar required it, after all.  I’m sure we all remember Lumine and Paimon’s account of his ‘insanity’, not to mention everything that went into setting up the situation.”

            The silence that followed was deafening.

            After a moment, Alhaitham finally spoke again.  “I’m not sure where you suddenly got this idea, but while your points are valid enough, I can assure you that the only thing I intended was to retain my position as the Akademiya’s Scribe.  I had no desire to be promoted, especially not into a major leadership role.”

            “And yet here you are, in the Sanctuary of Surasthana, holding the Gnosis.”

            “You seem to have missed my point.  I did not – and do not – want this.  Unfortunately, the decision has evidently been made without my input.”

            Cyno’s eyes narrowed.  Electro sparked around his hands.  “Easy enough to say.  Do you have any evidence?”

            Silence.

            “Convenient, isn’t it?  The Akasha is down, so a mind scan is impossible.  Lord Kusanali was telepathic, but she is also no longer available.  Nothing can be proven.”

            “… it doesn’t matter what I say now, does it?  You’ve already drawn your conclusions.”  Alhaitham paused.  “I’m disappointed.  With your reputation for fairness, I had thought you’d be better than to condemn someone on mere assumptions.”

            Cyno stared.  Rage flashed in his eyes.

            Electro flared.

            Lumine gasped as glowing, purple claws scythed through the air.  Paimon shrieked and dove for cover.  Lumine instinctively summoned her sword to her hand, but even as she assumed a defensive stance, she saw that it was no longer necessary.

            Alhaitham was leaning back slightly, eyes fixed on the massive, Electro-laced claws that had stopped mere centimeters from his face.  He slowly inhaled, then exhaled.

            Nilou stared, wide-eyed.  Her hands slowly moved to her mouth.

            Dehya’s hand tightened around Cyno’s outstretched right arm.

            Cyno growled, sparks dancing on the surface of his now-glowing headpiece.  “Dehya.  Let go of me.”

            “Like heck I will.”  She drew her other arm tighter around Cyno’s left shoulder, pinning his arm to his side.  “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you need to stop.  Now.”

            Silence.  Lumine adjusted her grip on her sword.

            A second passed.

            Alhaitham shifted slightly, eyes still locked on Cyno’s claws.  The Gnosis vanished, presumably returning to its usual place.

            Two seconds.

            Finally, Cyno’s claws dissipated.  His headdress stopped glowing, and reverted to its normal size.

            Everyone exhaled.

            “What.  The.  Heck.”  Dehya released her grip on Cyno, and moved so she was standing in front of him.  “Cyno, what the heck was that just now?!  Did we or did we not agree that we were going to do things right, and that this wouldn’t just be a repeat of five hundred years ago?!”

            “That was – ”

            “In fact, what was it that you specifically said?  Something like, we should give the new Archon a chance before judging them, if it’s even our place to judge them at all?”

            “That agreement was made before we knew – ”

            “Before we knew what, Cyno?!  You wanted evidence just now, but where’s yours?”

            Cyno opened his mouth, as if to respond, then closed it again.

            “That’s what I thought.  Look, I’m not really sure I totally trust him, either, but – ”

            “Then why did you stop me?”

            “Because we need to do this right!  Seriously, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?!  You’re always talking about judging people fairly and whatnot, now suddenly it’s ‘well there’s no proof but everything seems right, guess that’s good enough’?  Are we sure you’re actually Cyno, and not just some look-alike stirring up trouble?”

            Cyno blinked, then stared, looking like he’d just been struck across the face.

            “I swear, it’s always the ones you’d think would have it together… Alright, look.  Here’s what we’re going to do.  We’re all going to take a deep breath, calm the heck down, and talk this through like sensible people.  We are certainly not going to have a repeat of that first meeting outside Aaru Village – ”

            “I was only doing my duty,” Cyno said quietly.  “I had observed an individual of interest and deemed them untrustworthy; it was my duty to seek the truth.”

            Dehya stared at him for a moment, her eyes practically lighting ablaze with frustration.  “Cyno,” she finally said.  “Stop.  Talking.  I don’t care if you thought it was your duty.  I don’t care if you think it was your duty, that.  Is not.  The point.”

            “Dehya – ”

            “Stop talking, Cyno!  It doesn’t matter what your reason was then, it doesn’t matter what your reason was just now!  It doesn’t matter that he’s an untrustworthy – ”

***

            Dehya had lived with Eremites her entire life.

            Eremites were, in general, a rough and rowdy bunch.  The life of a mercenary was wild and unpredictable, especially in the harsh conditions of Sumeru’s deserts.  It was understandable, then, that most did not particularly concern themselves with complicated rules of etiquette.  Why worry about how someone else might perceive you, when you were both equally likely to be swallowed whole by the uncaring sands the next day?  Amongst the Eremites, few ever hesitated to speak their minds, and fewer still could be bothered to hold a grudge over mere words.

            But even amongst the Eremites, some things were taboo.

            Dehya had only ever heard the word used once in her life, all the way back when she was just a little girl living with Dakan Al-Ahmar.  Two brigade members had gotten in an argument after one had “borrowed” the other’s savings for a night at the tavern.  Things had gotten heated, and the word had simply fallen out of the offended party’s mouth.

            Dehya still remembered the sudden silence that had followed.  The expressions of shock and fury that had formed on everyone else’s faces, the horror of the one who’d misspoken.  Her own confusion at the strangeness of this reaction, in a place where words were, for the most part, just words.

            The brigade had headed out in the dead of night, leaving the one who’d spoken that word bound and gagged in the middle of their abandoned camp.  No food, no water; just an old dagger, barely sharp enough to cut, the blade practically falling off the handle.

            The man had somehow still been alive when they tracked him down again a week later, though just barely.  He’d been allowed to rejoin them then, but not out of any sort of sympathy; the words scrawled in charcoal on his back, warning potential passersby of his misdeed, had faded, and it was too impractical to keep hunting him down to rewrite them.  Better to keep him with those who knew, than to let him flee to someone who didn’t.

            Dehya’s father was hardly a man of many morals; she’d known that even all the way back then.  He spent most of his time either drinking, chasing women, or drinking while chasing women.  And, of course, there was everything she’d later learned of Dakan Al-Ahmar, and its true nature as a brigade under the banner of Deshret’s Relics.  But Dehya still remembered the serious look on his face as he took her aside after they’d set up their new camp, the way he’d carefully explained the meaning of that word.

            The “unforgivable curse”, he’d called it.

            It was an ancient desert word, barely remembered due to its age and infrequency of use.  A name, a reference to a disaster few dared speak of, said to bring tragedy and ruin to its target – the kind one would not even wish on their worst enemies.

            It was not a word to ever be used carelessly, and never to be directed at anyone you cared about, even just a little bit.

            That had been many, many years ago.  She’d never heard that word spoken again.

            Dehya had once promised that she would never use that word.  For many years, she had kept that promise.

            Until Lord Kusanali was murdered.

            Occasionally, Dehya wondered why she was so angry.  Lord Kusanali had not been her god.  The answer was, of course, that it was unfair.  That the Dendro Archon had been deeply wronged, by not only the Fatui, but also her own people.

            Dehya had once thought there was no one in the world she could hate enough to curse with the kind of ruin her father had spoken of, all those years ago.

            She freely wished that ruin upon the former Sages, and upon the Doctor.

            When Dehya had joined the Matra and Corps of Thirty in hunting down the Fatui who still remained in Sumeru, she’d happily taken the opportunity to vent her anger over what had happened.  She had not used that word against the Fatui’s rank-and-file, of course; she knew most of them were probably just random people stuck with a lousy job, likely brainwashed into following their superiors’ ideology.  But she obviously had no way of sending that curse to the Doctor on her own, and the thought that one of his grunts – one of the few who would inevitably escape – might pass the message along filled her with a fiery glee.  She doubted he’d actually understand, of course, but that was hardly important.  That word had become a weapon, one she gladly wielded against one of the men who’d brought so much suffering to Sumeru.

            It seemed she had neglected to properly stow that weapon when she was done with it.

            Dehya was not in the habit of lying to herself.  She could freely admit that she had her… reservations… regarding the Dendro Gnosis’s new choice of host.  Alhaitham was insanely smart, of course, and an excellent leader; he’d clearly demonstrated that with the Jnagarbha Day plan, and everything that had gone into its setup.  He was also an unapologetic loner, openly self-serving, secretive to the point where it was really kind of suspicious, and more than just a little insufferable.

            He did not deserve the unforgivable curse.

            Dehya froze as the word fell from her lips.  It wasn’t what she had meant to say.  In her anger and frustration at Cyno’s sudden strange behavior, her mouth had outrun her mind, words tumbling out before she could properly arrange them to convey her actual thoughts.

            She looked around.

            Cyno, Nilou, Lumine, and Paimon stared back at her.  They looked… confused, probably by the fact that she’d abruptly stopped talking.  Good, they probably don’t know what that word means, maybe it’s still okay –

            She locked eyes with Alhaitham.

            Dehya could admit that she’d wondered, on occasion, if Alhaitham was really human.  He was utterly unflappable, to the point where it seemed almost unnatural.  His reaction at the end of their meeting four days ago had shown more emotion than Dehya could recall seeing out of him in all the rest of the time they’d known each other, combined.

            Watching his eyes now, she saw the reaction plain as day.

            Surprise, a brief flash of anger… and just the barest flicker of pain.

            “Every student needs to master at least twenty languages before they graduate.”

            He’d understood.

            He knew.

            Dehya took a step back.  For the first time she could remember, her thoughts clogged in her mind, refusing to let themselves be spoken.  “I’m – I didn’t – I – ”

            What could she possibly say, that wouldn’t just sound like a panicked excuse?

            How could she possibly apologize, for something she herself knew to be unforgivable?

            Dehya turned, and ran.

***

            Alhaitham watched Dehya leave the Sanctuary.  The others did the same.

            Everyone was silent for a while.

            Eventually, Cyno turned back around, and looked Alhaitham square in the eye.

            “It is my duty, as the General Mahamatra, to serve the Dendro Archon.”  He paused.  “But this isn’t over.  I will withhold my judgment for now, but know that I am watching.”

            He turned, and left as well.

            “Um…”  Nilou fidgeted a little with her hair.  “For what it’s worth… I don’t really have any problems with, um… all of this.”  She paused.  “I think… I think you’ll do a great job.”

            Alhaitham watched her expression for a moment.  She fidgeted a bit more under his gaze, but didn’t seem to be lying.  “I see.  Thank you.”

            Nilou smiled, bowed a little, then quietly excused herself.

            Alhaitham watched as she left, as the grand double doors closed behind her.

            (At least one person seemed to have taken the reveal well enough.)

            Alhaitham was no fool.  He’d known that not all of Sumeru’s people would simply accept their new Archon without question, especially given the sudden nature of the power transition.  But he’d expected, perhaps naively, that at least the other members of their “emergency council” would give him some time to try and clean up some of the mess their nation was now buried in.  Lumine and Paimon had given that without question, and Paimon didn’t even like him.

            But then again, Paimon had always followed Lumine’s lead, and he’d known since Port Ormos that Lumine tended to trust too freely.

            (He supposed it was easier to trust when one was strong enough to fight a god and live.  Most who betrayed the Traveler, he imagined, did not live long enough to regret it.)

            Alhaitham was reasonably sure that Dehya hadn’t really meant that last thing she’d said about him; that it was just something that had spilled out of her mouth in the heat of the moment.  Even the most compassionate people could say cruel things when they weren’t thinking straight, and anger, stress, and exhaustion could play havoc with the mind.

            And yet…

            Alhaitham had come across that word Dehya had used a few times, while studying runes in the desert – not often, but often enough to match its pronunciation to text, and to understand its connotations.  He wasn’t superstitious enough to believe in the curse it supposedly carried, but he knew what the word meant to those who still used it.

            (The curse might not have been real, but the concept of it was.  And a knife in the back, whether it had been put there intentionally or not, still hurt all the same.)

            And then there was… whatever it was, that was going through Cyno’s mind.  Alhaitham knew he and the General Mahamatra had made… poor… first impressions on each other, and their initial cooperation had been begrudging at best, but things had seemed to improve after the trip to Dar al-Shifa, with the knowledge that the Sages had been using Cyno as their unwilling mole.  That was when Alhaitham had decided to drop the hostility, at least, realizing then that Cyno was most likely telling the truth about his resignation and self-exile; the En-Cyno-pedia, as Cyno had called it when it was found in the eventual search of the Grand Sage’s office, was at least evidence enough that the General Mahamatra was probably not trusted enough to be in on the Sages’ plans.

            Cyno had seemed willing enough to reciprocate at the time, but Alhaitham wasn’t sure what he had done since then to suddenly be deemed untrustworthy again.  It appeared that the General Mahamatra’s trust had been shallow, at best.

            (It hurt, just a little.)

            Alhaitham stood as his mind finally returned to the present.  Lumine and Paimon were still in the Sanctuary with him, quietly discussing something off to one side.  He could hear most of what they were saying, but half of it just sounded like nonsense, so he didn’t know what they were actually talking about.  They did that from time to time, so he didn’t comment.

            (He suspected the “nonsense” was in Lumine’s native language.  She’d mentioned, once, that Paimon had taught her to speak Teyvat Common; it would make sense for some degree of the reverse to have also happened, simply in the process of translation.)

            Lumine glanced in his direction as he stood.  “Oh, Alhaitham.  Uh, are you alright?  You looked like you needed some space to think…”

            “I’m fine.  That meeting… could have gone better.”

            “Yeah… I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone would react that badly.  If – if I’d known, I’d have told them myself – ”

            “There’s no need for that.  I don’t care what anybody thinks of me.”

            (It still hurt.)

            “… alright, if you say so.  Do you… still want to meet with the Sages next…?”

            “… There’s little point in delaying the inevitable.  It’s too much of a bother to reschedule, and as previously discussed, they’re too close to the top to not eventually find out.  Better to get it all out of the way now, than to stall and increase the risk of them receiving flawed information from some other source.”

             “Okay.  We’ll go look for someone to bring them here, then.”

            Alhaitham nodded.  Paimon grabbed onto Lumine’s shoulder, and a moment later, they both vanished.  He guessed they’d warped to the Akademiya’s front doors, with that unexplained ability Lumine had to instantly transport the two of them to any location marked by one of those strange floating structures that were all over Teyvat.

            (A convenient trick; it was unfortunate that Lumine had no idea how it worked, and thus could not teach anyone, and that she was seemingly incapable of transporting anyone else except for Paimon.)

            With no one else left in the Sanctuary, Alhaitham once again found himself turning to look up at Lord Kusanali’s dormant form.  Her condition still appeared to be unchanged, and he briefly wondered if it was foolish to hang onto the hope that she’d wake up.

            (He could let himself be foolish, just this once.)

Chapter Text

            The meeting with the remaining Sages, at least, went by without incident.

            Sages Naphis of Amurta and Zaman of Vahumana had, thankfully, already realized and accepted that Sumeru would be changing dramatically in the relatively-near future, given all that had happened in the last couple of weeks.  They were also both old and knowledgeable enough to be unsurprised by most things, and not overly bothered by the few things that did occasionally surprise them.  “The world is full of things we don’t understand,” Zaman had said.  “One doesn’t become a great scholar by losing one’s mind over every piece of unexpected knowledge.”

            (He and Naphis both had strong words regarding their former colleagues’ abrupt loss of rationality upon being presented with the Electro Gnosis.)

            With the initial explanations out of the way, the conversation had moved on to related matters.  Most of the topics were things that had already been discussed – possible changes to Sumeru’s government structure, relations with the desert, problems caused by the loss of the Akasha, etcetera – but there was one thing that hadn’t.  As Naphis pointed out, Sumeru’s people would presumably want to actually see their new Archon, not just know that he existed.  They would also likely want a name to refer to him by, or at least a title more specific than just “the Dendro Archon”.

            All things that would need further consideration.  For the time being, it was tentatively agreed that it would be a good idea to have some sort of official “coronation day”.  The Sabzeruz Festival had survived five hundred years of Sages trying to erase Lord Kusanali’s existence for a reason; it was too much of a fixture in Sumeru’s culture, at this point, for the new Archon to not have some kind of equivalent.  His ascension couldn’t be celebrated – not when it had happened as a result of his predecessor’s assassination – so some other date would have to be chosen.

            For now, though, there were more important matters.

            Alhaitham sighed in relief as he finally stepped back into his office and locked the door behind him, pausing briefly to make sure his “out of office” sign was up (it was true, in a sense – this was the Scribe’s office, and with everything else going on, he wasn’t going to have time for any of his usual Scribe work for at least a few days).  He was glad to be in a familiar room again, at least, especially one with natural light.

            (He was a little surprised to realize that he’d actually missed natural light.  It wasn’t something he’d really paid much attention to before; spending most of a day in the windowless Sanctuary of Surasthana must have gotten to him.)

            Sitting down at his desk, Alhaitham took out the thick stack of notes he’d spent most of the previous night putting together.

            It was time to start figuring out how to clean up this mess.

***

            Though the Scribe had eyes on most matters that went on in the Akademiya, given their access to nearly all of its records and extremely centralized role in the administration, Alhaitham hadn’t actually known much about the process of selecting new Sages before he’d abruptly found himself saddled with the task.  It wasn’t something that had come up in his time in the position thus far – the last Sage to be replaced had been Cyrus, the previous Sage of Spantamad (who’d unfortunately already declined to retake his old office, even temporarily – not that anyone could blame him, given his age on top of the present circumstances), and he’d retired shortly before Alhaitham’s graduation.  The Sages themselves were rather tight-lipped about the whole thing, and since Alhaitham had no interest in becoming a Sage himself, he’d never had reason to look into the matter.

            Looking at the procedures now, they were… shockingly straightforward.

            Alhaitham suddenly understood how the Six Sages had managed to grow so corrupt over the years, with how few checks there were in the selection process.  The only hard requirements for becoming one of the six most powerful people in the Akademiya were apparently to have graduated within the top one percent of one’s class, to have no permanent record with the Matra, and of course, to have graduated from the Darshan one was trying to become Sage of.  A list of all viable candidates would be compiled and distributed to the relevant Darshan’s faculty, there would be a vote, and the top five candidates would be presented to the current Grand Sage, who would appoint one of them to be Sage in… whatever manner they deemed fit, apparently.  The instructions for that final step were incredibly vague.

            The Grand Sage selection process was even more straightforward.  It simply came down to a vote by all the current Sages, the only rule being that a Sage couldn’t vote for themselves.  Whoever got at least three votes won.

            Naturally, there were all kinds of problems with these procedures.  For instance, the fact that three votes were required to choose a Grand Sage, and a Sage could not vote for themselves, meant that with only two Sages currently in office, no Grand Sage could be selected until at least two of the empty seats were filled.  Except new Sages had to be appointed by the Grand Sage, so until a Grand Sage had been chosen, there could be no new Sages.

            Alhaitham’s head was already starting to hurt.

            (This was worse than he’d thought.)

            He managed to resist the urge to throw the current procedures straight into the trash.  As bad as they were, the general framework could at least be useful.  Also, he was definitely going to recommend that Vahumana show these procedures to beginner-level political science students as an example of how not to run a nation.  He wondered how long they’d been in place; surely, Lord Kusanali wasn’t the one who’d written them.  The archives would probably still have a copy of the procedures from five hundred years ago… well, assuming they hadn’t already been destroyed at some point.  And that they had been ever been written down to begin with.

            On second thought, he probably wasn’t going to find the old procedures.

            Still, it wouldn’t hurt to look.  At the very least, it’d give him some time to clear his mind of the drivel he’d just read.

            (The House of Daena’s political science section would probably be more helpful, to be honest.  He made a mental note to stop by along the way.)

***

            Alhaitham wasn’t sure exactly how the Akademiya had wound up making so many stupid and useless laws over the years.

            He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

            To be fair, he’d known going in that Sumeru’s legal code would likely be significantly shorter when he was done revising it.  There had to be some precedent, after all, for Azar to think nothing of outright banning all public performances (a ludicrous waste of time and resources; he wouldn’t have even bothered drafting that ordinance, had he not been trying to keep his head down while preparing for his upcoming “research trip” to the desert).

            As a matter of fact, there had been a lot of precedent.

            “The total duration of an artistic performance may not exceed one minute per audience member in attendance.”

            Who was enforcing this?  Was there someone in the Akademiya whose job was simply to attend artistic performances, and keep track of the exact number of people in the audience?

            “Artistic performances may only be held on dates specifically approved by the Rtawahist Astrology department.”

            That was… incredibly vague.  Was there a specific person tasked with deciding which days of the year were appropriate for performances, and which were not?  What were the criteria for this decision?  Also, this was definitely one of Azar’s laws; Azar was an astronomer, not an astrologer, but he’d been the Rtawahist Sage nonetheless.  He’d no doubt handpicked whoever it was who had been responsible for enforcing this decree.

            “The sale price of a book may not exceed one Mora per one hundred words printed within the book.”

            … what was the purpose of this?  Just to discourage the use of images in books?  To discourage the sale of books in general, by making them unprofitable and a nuisance to price?  And again, who was actually checking the necessary criteria for enforcement?

            “Prayers to the Dendro Archon, Lesser Lord Kusanali, may only be made on the third blue moon of each year, and only if – ”

            Alhaitham didn’t even bother to finish reading that one.  It clearly existed only out of spite, and there was no way it was being enforced.

            “Kshahrewar is the best Darshan.  All Kshahrewar funding requests must be approved.”

            … and that one was clearly not being enforced.

            (It was rather amusing, though.)

***

            It was somewhat ridiculous, the degree to which some people would resist changes that were to their own benefit.

            For instance, the plans for free reading, writing, and math classes for the general public.

            Alhaitham had expected that most resistance to this particular change would come from within the Akademiya, given the resources that would be required and the intellectual elitism the institution had come to be known for.  Surprisingly, this was not the case; in fact, the general sentiment among members of the Akademiya who learned of the plan seemed to be that it was actually quite sensible, in light of recent events.  There were some concerns about the execution, of course – the amount of resources required was going to be substantial, no matter how he sliced it – but actual resistance was not especially high.

            From the people the classes would benefit, on the other hand…

            “The classes are going to be free.”

            Lumine shrugged helplessly.  As someone who could move around Teyvat with very few restrictions, and interact with virtually anyone without undue attention, she had agreed to act as an extra set of eyes and ears for him, reporting back any interesting or unusual information she happened to come across.  “Yeah, I thought the announcements were making that clear enough, but… I don’t know, maybe people just don’t want to learn.  I heard a bunch of different reasons, honestly, and none of them really made much sense.”

            “Such as?”

            “Uh, well a lot of people said it was pointless and a waste of time, because the Akasha would still be way faster.  We tried explaining that nobody knows if the Akasha will come back, and even if it does we don’t know if it’ll go down again in the future, but I don’t think any of them actually listened.”

            “I… see.  What else?”

            “One guy complained that he needed his employees to keep his store running, and they wouldn’t have time to go take classes.  Apparently they’ve been so busy since the Akasha went down, none of them can even get days off right now.”

            “I’m fairly certain that’s illegal.  He needs to hire more employees.”

            “Yeah, we said that, too.  Also pointed out that it wasn’t a full-time thing, just a few hours once or twice a week.  Again, I don’t think he listened.  And, uh, there might be someone spreading rumors, too; one person said she’d been told this was some kind of secret Akademiya recruitment scheme, and any kids who enrolled would have to become researchers or something.  She was really upset about it, kept saying that she needed her children to take over the family business when they grew up, that the Akademiya shouldn’t be making decisions for them…”

            Alhaitham pinched the bridge of his nose.

            “Oh, and there was another person who complained that this was just another form of information control.  Something like, if everyone has to learn to read and write and all that, they won’t have room in their heads for more important information… I think is what he was trying to say?  His logic was kind of hard to follow.”

            “Yeah, Paimon didn’t get it either,” Paimon said.  “And Paimon’s pretty sure Lumine’s right, and all these guys are just looking for excuses to not learn.  Some people are weird.”

            Alhaitham sighed.  “Right.  Well, I wasn’t planning to force anyone, regardless, so… let them believe what they want, I suppose.  I’ll get the Matra to look into the rumors, at least, and that business owner.  Was there anything else?”

            Lumine shook her head.  “Not really.  Everyone’s pretty focused on the literacy and math stuff right now, since that announcement just went out.”

            “I see, thank you.  Also, since you’re here, I have a list of commissions that were going to be sent to the Adventurers’ Guild.  They’ve been stuck in the red tape for a while; I think some of these requests might be outdated by now.”

            (The person normally in charge of forwarding tasks the Corps of Thirty couldn’t handle to the Adventurers’ Guild had been terminated due to involvement with the ex-Sages’ plot, and their work had somehow wound up diverted to the Office of the Scribe.  Unfortunately, the Scribe had been unusually busy as of late, and several days’ worth of pending commissions had piled up as a result.  It was unfortunate that the Akademiya didn’t keep direct contact with any adventurers who could help clear out such things…)

            Lumine blinked, then gave him a knowing look.  “So you need someone to check if they still need to be done, so you don’t wind up doing all the paperwork for a bunch of non-existent commissions?”

            “That’s correct.”

            “Got it.”  She took the list from him and quickly glanced over it.  “Yeah, I should be able to check all of these by tonight.  I’ll just mark off the ones that aren’t needed anymore.  Where do you want me to drop this off when I’m done?”

            “The mail slot is fine.  And you’ll be compensated for your time, obviously.  I’ll have the payment arranged by the time you get back; you can collect it from the room noted at the top.”

            “Sounds good.  We’ll be heading back out, then.”

            “See you later, Alhaitham!”  Paimon waved, then grabbed onto Lumine’s offered hand.

            Alhaitham nodded as they both vanished from his office.  “See ya.”

***

            Sure enough, the list was in his mailbox when he returned from dinner that evening.

            (As expected, all of the tasks had already been resolved.)

***

            Improving relations with the desert would be no small task.  Developing the desert would be an even bigger undertaking.  Alhaitham had broken down both objectives into smaller tasks, but even still, when he looked at the resulting outline of things that needed to be done, he had no idea where to even begin.

            It was fortunate that he wasn’t the only one with ideas.

            The proposal in front of him was surprisingly good, especially for how quickly it had apparently been put together.  He could see why the person who’d written it was considered a rare genius, to the point where even a certain former Grand Sage had taken notice.

            (The pages crackled faintly as he flipped through them, as if from residual Electro.)

            Offering formal education to the people of the desert was as good a place to start as any; the Akademiya certainly needed some new ideas, and the desert would need representation in a united Sumeru’s government.  Having someone else volunteering to take the lead on this point made things easier as well.  The author’s association with the former Grand Sage was… perhaps a point of concern, but from what he’d heard, she genuinely regretted her involvement in recent events, and had even intended to do something about it before her superiors had unfortunately caught wind of her doubts.

            It wouldn’t be a bad idea to maintain some security around this project, either way.  He knew not everyone would immediately be on board with the coming changes, and some of the more likely opponents would probably resist quite fiercely.  It would be wise to keep an extra pair of eyes on the situation, just in case.

            (Paper fizzled in his hands.  Was it an indication of trust or suspicion, that the proposal had been allowed to continue to his desk?)

***

            “Wait… isn’t this…?”

            “Your proposal for the development of a formal educational system in the desert, yes.  It has been approved.”

            Setaria blinked at the stack of papers on the desk in front of her.  “My…”  She paused and shook her head.  “I’m sorry, this is… this is just a little more sudden than I was expecting.  Also, I thought… the Dendro Archon…?”

            “The Dendro Archon reviewed and approved it, yes.  He’s busy at the moment, though; I’m the one currently responsible for his communications.”

            (It wasn’t technically a lie.  He was indeed very busy, and at no point had he denied that he was the Dendro Archon.)

            “I… see.”  Setaria blinked again.  “I’m… I’m sorry, it’s just… I wasn’t expecting this so soon.  It was all approved?  There’s not… he didn’t add any extra conditions?”

            “Well, the resources you’re being granted are finite, of course.  That much should be obvious.”  Alhaitham paused to flip to a specific page in the document on his desk.  “Here are the details regarding that matter.  I would advise you to review this information sooner rather than later, in case there is anything that needs to be added; additional funding requests will be less likely to be approved after budget revisions are complete.”

            (The Akademiya had a surprising amount of funding to spare at the moment.  It had clearly been some time since anyone had bothered to check their accounts; the amount of Mora they’d had going into defunct projects was frankly absurd.  The Matra were going to be busy investigating all the recurring payments people had “forgotten” to cancel for a while.)

            Setaria stared at the document for a moment.  “This is… wait, are – are you sure this is correct?  My proposal only requested a little over half of this amount…”

            “I believe the Archon made a few adjustments to the cost estimates, and applied a higher safety factor.  The revised calculations should be on the next page.”

            (There was also a comment to the effect of “in the future, request what you need, not what you think you’ll be granted”.  That comment was probably going to show up on a lot of returned proposals for a while… though Setaria would likely be one of the very few to get that advice as a result of guessing low.)

            Setaria stared some more – first at him, then at her proposal again.  “I… I don’t know what I should say…”

            “I wouldn’t worry about that.  From my observations, the new Archon would rather have results than effusive words of thanks or praise.”

            “… I see.  Nonetheless…”  She paused, then looked up again.  “If… if you can, please tell him that I’m very grateful for this opportunity.  To give something back to my people, and… and to contribute to Sumeru’s future.  Let him know that his kindness will not go to waste.”

            “… Sure, I can do that.  Now then, travel arrangements have already been partially made for you; the relevant information is… here.  You’ll just need to confirm a few details with your designated point of contact, who is also the person you should go to if you have any questions.  With that said, is there anything you would like to ask right now?”

            Setaria paused for a moment, then shook her head.

            “Very well.  That will be all, then.”

            The young woman stood and bowed, then took her approved proposal and turned to leave.  Alhaitham watched as his office door closed behind her.

            “… I’m very grateful…”

            (It wasn’t a bad feeling.)

Chapter Text

            Electro-violet eyes gazed upon the broken remains of the Balladeer.

            “So this is where he ended up.”

            “Yes.”

            Alhaitham watched as Ei – the second Raiden Shogun, Beelzebul, he now knew – knelt down to examine the ruined puppet, laid out on the floor of the room where he’d once faced the God of Wisdom and her First Sage.  The Shouki no Kami loomed over them, silent and awaiting its eventual disassembly.

            (It had been the easiest place to set up this meeting.  Arranging an official visit by another nation’s openly-reigning Archon was far too much of a hassle, especially with Sumeru’s current political situation; a quiet, unofficial meeting was much easier to coordinate, but required a site where the visiting party could remain unseen by the general public.)

            Alhaitham waited a few minutes before asking the question he needed answered.  “So, is there any possibility that he’ll reawaken on his own?”

            Ei stood back up, shaking her head.  “No.  His automated repair functions are insufficient for this kind of damage; external assistance of some form would be needed.  There is no risk to you or your people, if you continue to hold him in this state.”

            “I see.”  The other question, then.  “I assume, then, that he will not be returning to Inazuma with you?”

            (He’d been somewhat surprised when Lumine and Paimon reported that Ei was reluctant to reclaim custody of her rogue creation, especially knowing of the Balladeer’s responsibility in many of Inazuma’s recent… problems.  She had, however, acknowledged that Inazuma was in a much better position to contain him, should there be any risk of him regaining consciousness; it had thus been agreed that she would come inspect the puppet for signs of recovery, and take him back if any were found.)

            Ei took some time to respond.  “This might be foolish of me, but… I do not feel that it is my place to decide his fate, barring necessity.  It was Sumeru that defeated and captured him, not Inazuma.  And…”

            He let her think for a moment before prompting her to continue.  “And?”

            “… he ended up here because of me.  Because I failed to properly deal with him before, and failed to act when he first started causing problems.  I caused all of this with my negligence.”  She paused again.  “I do not feel it can be my place to serve justice for those who have suffered, when I have done nothing to stop him from causing that suffering.”

            Alhaitham watched her for a moment, then nodded.  “I see.  I suppose that’s all, then.”

            (He decided not to tell her what Lord Kusanali had revealed of the Doctor in her final message, at least for now.  He didn’t know if it would help Ei to know that there had been an outside influence, or if she’d only feel worse for having allowed that influence.)

            “I suppose it is.”  Another pause.  “Though… whatever you ultimately decide to do…”

            He could already tell what it was she wanted to ask.  “I can let you know.  Should I send the Traveler again, or is there a better form of communication?”

            “The Traveler is probably best, for speed and security.  If you feel no need for that, then the regular mail service will suffice.”

            “Right.  I won’t hold you up further, then.”

            Ei nodded, and then in a flash of Electro, she was gone.

            Alhaitham didn’t turn at the sound of footsteps behind him; he already knew who it was.  “Should we go tell Cyno you’re done?”

            He paused, then nodded.  “Sure.  I’ll stay and keep watch.”

            “Okay.  We’ll see you later, then.”

            And then he was alone again.

            (Would it have been better if he went, and they stayed?  Who would Cyno rather be left alone with the Balladeer?  It was hard to say who would fare better on the off chance that Ei had been wrong, and he did somehow get up and attack, but in terms of trust…)

            One of the dead Shouki no Kami’s arms lay on the ground nearby.  It was the closest thing to a flat surface at an appropriate height, other than the floor, so Alhaitham walked over and sat down on the edge of the colossal hand, and took out a book to read while he waited.

            (What a ridiculous design choice it was, making those things float.  The power required to levitate such a massive object was far too excessive to be worth any benefit that might come from not physically attaching it to the rest of the “god”.)

            Cyno arrived about twenty minutes later.  “Scribe,” he said tonelessly.  He paused.  “Has the Archon already left?”

            Alhaitham glanced briefly at the two other Matra following behind their leader.  “There was a matter that required his attention.”

            (Technically true.  There were always matters that required his attention these days, and he hadn’t actually said that the Archon had left.)

            “… I see.  And his business with the Balladeer is done?”

            “Yes.  You’re free to take him back to his cell.”

            “Very well, then.”

            Alhaitham put his book away as Cyno and the other Matra started gathering up the pieces of the broken Harbinger.  He watched as they checked each piece off of a list they’d brought, and carefully packed everything into what appeared to be a repurposed evidence box.

            (Cyno had been… displeased… at the request to move such a high-profile prisoner from the security of Matra headquarters, even more so to learn that he could not attend the discussion of a potential change of custody that had prompted the aforementioned request.  He’d reluctantly acquiesced in the end, but only with Lumine and Paimon’s assurances that the actual custody change would not happen without his knowledge, if it even happened at all.)

            Finally, when all the pieces had been accounted for, the other Matra sealed the box, then carefully lifted it off the floor and turned to carry it out.

            Cyno briefly glanced back at Alhaitham before following them.

            (He wondered what it said, that his own word had not been enough.)

***

            POP!

            Zhongli gazed thoughtfully at the Dendro Gnosis.  “You seem to have the action itself figured out, at least.  Do you feel any discomfort?”

            “A little, just at the moment that it actually appears.  Nothing as significant as a punch in the stomach, of course.”

            The older Archon gave a slight smile of amusement.  “I see.  I wouldn’t worry about that anymore; it appears to no longer be necessary.”  He paused.  “That said, did you notice the slight burst of Dendro energy at the moment you described?”

            Alhaitham paused, then nodded.  “Is that a problem?”

            “Not… a problem, exactly.  It’s more of… an indicator.”  Zhongli seemed to think for a moment before continuing.  “Unfortunately, since I no longer have my own Gnosis, I am unable to demonstrate.  But that burst of energy occurs when a Gnosis and its wielder are… not properly attuned, I suppose you could say.”

            “… if that isn’t a problem, then is it normal?”

            “Under the present circumstances, yes.  Lumine described the Gnoses to you as being granted to the Archons in a manner similar to Visions, correct?”

            “Yes, that’s right.”

            “And the Dendro Gnosis, which you now possess, was originally granted to the God of Wisdom, Buer, some thousands of years ago.”

            “Yes.”  He paused.  “I think I understand.  You’re saying the Gnosis is still attuned to Lord Kusanali, rather than me.”

            “That would appear to be the case.  Sometimes, when a Gnosis changes hands in a more… controlled… manner, this situation can be avoided.  For example, you mentioned that you’ve now met the Second Electro Archon, Beelzebul.  The First Electro Archon, Baal, was her identical twin sister, who deliberately passed her Gnosis – and her title – to Beelzebul after being fatally wounded.  Because she and Baal were so similar to each other, the Electro Gnosis attuned to Beelzebul more or less immediately.”

            Alhaitham nodded slowly, taking a moment to let the Dendro Gnosis return to him as he digested this information.  “I assume attunement affects more than just how smoothly I can eject the Gnosis, if this is something you felt the need to bring up.”

            “Very perceptive of you.  Attunement affects a few things – most notably, your ability to use the additional power that comes with being recognized as an Archon.  This additional power is automatically generated in response to worship and prayer, but you won’t be able to channel it until the Gnosis has properly attuned to you.  Until then, the Gnosis is little more than a shiny trinket – barely more useful than the lump of glass that used to be your Vision.”

            (Arguably less useful, even.  At least his “Vision” would allow him to use his elemental powers without immediately blowing his cover.)

            “I see.  So how exactly does attunement happen, then?”

            “Well, it’s fairly straightforward.  It’ll happen automatically over time, but the process can be accelerated by using your Dendro abilities.  Essentially, the Gnosis just needs exposure to your elemental signature.”

            Alhaitham nodded again.  That… made things a lot simpler, to be certain.  He’d been considering not attuning, given that he didn’t even want the Gnosis in the first place, but if it was going to happen regardless…

            (And to be honest, he probably needed the extra power, even if he didn’t actually want it.  He wasn’t so naive as to think the Fatui wouldn’t be back at some point, and he had no desire to find out exactly how his predecessor had gotten that gaping hole in her chest.)

            “And how do I know when it’s happened?”

            Zhongli seemed to think about that for a moment for responding.  “Sometimes, a Gnosis grants its wielder certain additional abilities, which are also only accessible with attunement.”  A pause.  “For instance, the Geo Gnosis granted the ability to create Mora, and was thus used in the operation of Liyue’s Golden House.”

            “Teyvat’s Mora mint.  That would explain how Liyue became Teyvat’s center of – ”

            Alhaitham stopped mid-sentence as he suddenly remembered a certain detail.

            (Zhongli had given away his Gnosis.)

            Zhongli cleared his throat before continuing, a little too quickly to appear fully casual.  “That said, not every Gnosis is known to carry such an ability, nor are all such powers quite so apparent, so that is not necessarily a reliable means of checking for attunement.  The most consistent method is simply to test for the burst of energy we previously discussed, that occurs when you eject the Gnosis.  That burst will become less pronounced as attunement progresses, until it becomes faint enough so as to be imperceptible.  There are a few other effects that may present themselves as well, but they are also not necessarily reliable as standards.”

            “I see.”  Alhaitham paused, then focused his Dendro energy again.

            POP!

            Zhongli looked mildly amused.  “Well, I suppose that does count as using your Dendro abilities.  I wouldn’t expect much of a result from that alone, though.”

            “Noted.”

            (He’d ask Lumine about the Mora thing later.)

***

            (One clearly did not live to six thousand years by being weak.)

            Alhaitham quickly sidestepped the spear made of crystallized Geo energy that had been flung at him, wincing as the blade clipped his right shoulder.  It was a good thing his ascension had evidently come with some degree of accelerated healing; the assorted minor cuts and bruises he’d accumulated over the last fifteen or so minutes would definitely be slowing him down by now, had they not already faded with time.

            (Rex Lapis Morax was the oldest surviving Archon for a reason.)

            In theory, they were sparring.  Zhongli, having taken a couple of days off his job to give his new (and very junior) colleague a crash course on the basic functions of a Gnosis, had also recommended that Alhaitham take the opportunity to test his powers against an opponent strong enough to shrug off most anything he was likely to be capable of.  A reasonable suggestion; it was certainly advisable to know one’s own strength, after all.

            In reality, it would be more accurate to say that Alhaitham was attempting to fight a brick wall.  One that also happened to be fighting back.

            He was very thankful that Zhongli had also recommended bringing Lumine and Paimon along, just in case things went badly and someone had to call for help.  The other Archon was clearly holding back, but Alhaitham wasn’t entirely sure that would make much of a difference, in the event of an accidental direct hit.

            (They were “sparring” in the ruins under Devantaka Mountain, in the cavern normally occupied by the Aeonblight Drake.  Well, technically, the Drake was currently occupying this room; it was just in several pieces in a corner, Zhongli having casually dismantled it with a shower of Geo spears about a second after it registered their presence, and shoved the resulting wreckage aside so it wouldn’t be in their way.  Lumine and Paimon had barely batted an eye at the offhanded display of power, leading to the realization that by the other Archons’ standards, such one-sided “fights” must be perfectly routine.  He’d belatedly recalled the legends of Liyue’s stone forests, in which the mountains of Huaguang and Guyun were said to have once been the Geo Archon’s weapons.)

            Alhaitham conjured five mirrors to attempt another attack (he could sustain a lot more of those now, not that it really seemed to be helping him), only for four of them to be immediately shattered by a barrage of cobblestone fragments, fired with seemingly-impossible accuracy.  He managed to get one shot out of the last mirror before it, too, was destroyed, but the attack simply splashed harmlessly off of the unusual-looking barrier Zhongli constantly maintained.

            For how thin and uneven it looked, that shield was incredibly durable.  Alhaitham had already managed to break a sword against it; fortunately, that sword had been a relatively cheap blade taken from an overconfident Eremite who’d foolishly attempted to ambush them on their way from Sumeru City.  Lumine had advised him to use that weapon first, evidently expecting that Zhongli’s shield would surprise him with its strength.

            (That Eremite had been surprised, too, when he was abruptly launched into a tree by a massive stone stele erupting from the ground.)

            Alhaitham bit back a curse as more Geo spears flew his way, now interspersed with a hail of rocks in sizes ranging from “coin” to “fist”.  Dodging in place wasn’t going to cut it for this; he ran to his left, deflecting various projectiles with his swords as he circled around, looking for a better angle of attack.  Realistically, though, he knew he wouldn’t find one.  He’d already tried shooting from above with his mirrors, where Zhongli’s shield didn’t cover, but the Geo Archon was much faster than his element would suggest, and had simply blocked all the shots with his spear.  His physical spear, because apparently having infinite weapons made of elemental energy wasn’t already enough.

            (He needed to think.  No one was invincible; he wasn’t going to win this fight, that much was obvious, but he wanted to at least get a hit in before inevitably going down.  There had to be something…)

            More rocks rained down.  Another Geo spear.  No matter where he dodged, it seemed like there was another attack already there, waiting for him.  He got a little too close at one point, and narrowly avoided a stab from the physical polearm, which he was fairly sure had probably only actually missed on purpose.

            This wasn’t working.

            Alhaitham winced as a stray pebble hit him just over his left eye.  He saw Zhongli pause and look at him for a moment as he pressed the heel of his palm to the fresh bruise he knew was forming, but shook his head at the silent question.  “Do you need to stop?”

            (He wasn’t giving up without getting at least one hit.  Not if he could help it.)

            Admittedly, being temporarily down an eye certainly made things harder.  The effect on his depth perception was immediately noticeable, and even with Zhongli clearly slowing the rate of attacks from Alhaitham’s left (not completely stopping, though; he appreciated the attempt to spare his dignity), he was definitely taking more hits from that side.  He needed to come up with something fast, before he got hit too decisively.

            Well, he did have one more trick.  He’d been avoiding it thus far, as it generally wasn’t such a good idea to go charging around half-blind with so many projectiles flying all over the place – it was hard to see much of anything when moving that fast, and the sudden acceleration and deceleration could be disorienting – but if he was literally half-blind anyway…

            He pressed two fingers to his right earpiece, and aimed the targeting reticle the simplified Akasha Terminal inside projected into his mind.  Dendro energy flared.

            (Wait what where was he going why was he still moving stop stop stop)

            Later, as he recovered from the fight, Lumine and Paimon would tell him that he’d turned into a beam of light, speeding wildly around the room, reflecting off of every opaque surface in the way.  They would tell him of Zhongli’s surprise as the beam went straight through his shield, translucent as it was, but skipped harmlessly off the shaft of the Vortex Vanquisher.

            Alhaitham would not have registered any of this, as the world flew uncontrollably by.

            Everything was a blur.  He didn’t know what was happening, only that he hadn’t stopped where he’d expected.  In fact, he hadn’t stopped at all, which was confusing because he knew he had a maximum range.

            (What was he doing why hadn’t he stopped how did he stop)

            Dimly, it occurred to him that he was still channeling Dendro.  He stopped.

            Alhaitham stumbled to a halt.

            (Thankfully, he’d managed to stop right-side up.)

            The world seemed to keep spinning.  He carefully did not attempt to raise a hand to his head, despite the dizziness; the last thing he needed was to accidentally impale himself on one of his own swords, which he had somehow managed not to drop.  He considered setting them down for the moment, but attempting that while dizzy seemed like a good way to stab himself, too.

            CRACK!

            Alhaitham started, mind suddenly clear, as a Geo spear flew into the nearby wall.  The projectile missed him by a wide enough margin that it obviously had not been meant to hit, and he suddenly became aware of the others calling his name behind him.  He blinked twice to regain his bearings (his left eye still only opened halfway, but that was at least an improvement) before turning around, which fortunately did not cause the dizziness to return.

            (Of all the new abilities to gain without warning…)

            Zhongli had dropped his shield, and he waited a few moments before putting it back up and conjuring another wave of Geo spears.  The spears floated behind him for a second before being launched forward, one at a time.

            (Double-checking that his opponent was actually able to continue.  The Geo Archon had clearly done this before.)

            The fight quickly regained its previous pace.  Of course, that meant Alhaitham was still unable to land any hits, while rocks and spears rained endlessly upon him.  He also now had no idea how to use his old charging ability, if it hadn’t been outright replaced by… whatever this new power was.

            Nothing else he could think to do seemed to be getting him anywhere, though.  Maybe he’d give it another attempt –

            (No bad idea bad idea stop)

            Fortunately, he at least knew how to stop now, and was thus only slightly disoriented when he came out of… whatever that seemingly-uncontrollable state could be called.  That power still seemed unhelpful, though.

            Another Geo spear shot past him, pulling his mind back to the fight – just in time, as Zhongli was already preparing another barrage.  There wasn’t time to think, barely enough just to dodge on instinct.  Alhaitham summoned more mirrors, hoping to shoot down some of the myriad projectiles being flung in his direction, but said mirrors were quickly destroyed.

            (Left, right, back.  Circle around, duck under the Geo spear that was already forming even as he chose which direction to run.  Too close, dodge the physical spear.  Left, right, circle around again – hold on, why did the ground seem to be shaking – )

            Alhaitham nearly swore as a Geo stele suddenly shot out of the ground in front of him; he barely managed to stop running in time to avoid what would have been a very painful blow to the lower jaw.  The column glowed for a moment, and he dodged backwards, flinching a little as a wave of Geo energy pulsed through him.  The ground seemed to ripple beneath his feet, nearly causing him to fall over backwards.

            (He’d forgotten about that attack.)

            More rocks were already flying at him.  Two more spears.  He turned to start circling back around in the other direction, generating another mirror as a distraction; he managed two shots before it was also broken.

            (Think.  Fighting blindly wouldn’t get him anywhere.)

            Nothing seemed to be working.  He couldn’t fight up close; Zhongli had better reach with his polearm, and was also just more skilled with his weapon than Alhaitham was.  He couldn’t stay at range, either – his mirrors were too easily destroyed, and the rain of spears and rocks was showing no signs of slowing down.  And of course, he still had to figure out some way to get an attack past that seemingly-impenetrable Geo barrier…

            Alhaitham forced down the frustration threatening to boil over inside him.  Frustration was unhelpful; he needed his head clear to think.

            (The obvious solution was to attack from above, but Zhongli was too fast for his mirror shots.  He could generate his mirrors closer, but then they’d just get broken before they could get their attacks off.  He needed something… faster…)

            More Geo spears flew by, one tracing a shallow cut along his upper arm.  A rock bounced off his shin.  He had to think of something quickly, before he couldn’t keep this up any longer.

            (That new power was probably fast enough.  He still didn’t know how to actually control it, though, and that absurd speed was useless if all he could do with it was fly around wildly and make himself horribly dizzy.)

            Another spear.  More rocks, some larger now.

            (His second attempt at using that ability had given him some idea of how it worked, at least; he seemed to move in a straight line, and bounced off of solid surfaces.  There didn’t seem to be any sort of noticeable impact, no matter what he hit, almost like…)

            Alhaitham blinked.

            (Light.)

            Alhaitham thought quickly as another barrage of Geo spears rained down on him from above.  He dodged away from Zhongli, putting as much distance between the two of them as he could without getting too far away for the plan forming in his mind.

            The endless storm of rocks and spears slowed for just a moment, a brief lull between waves.  It was as good an opening as he was going to get.

            He gathered up as much Dendro energy as he could.

            Dozens of mirrors formed up in three parallel rings, centered on Zhongli – one at floor level, one a few meters up, one halfway in between.  Beams of concentrated Dendro energy shot out, ricocheting wildly between mirrors and splashing against the Geo shield.  The older Archon raised an eyebrow at this, but still seemed unconcerned, even as he shattered a loose cobblestone and started shooting down mirrors with the resulting fragments.

            (No matter.  That was only a distraction, anyway.)

            Alhaitham summoned one more mirror, parallel to the ground, about halfway between himself and Zhongli and as high up in the air as he could manage.  He called up his headphones’ targeting reticle, aimed it at that last mirror, and focused.

            (He really hoped this worked.)

            The world blurred.  He felt himself hit the mirror, and cut off the flow of Dendro.

            Alhaitham blinked as everything came to a halt around him.  Even time seemed to slow.

            He was in the air, above and just behind Zhongli.

            Falling straight into the opening in Zhongli’s shield.

            (It had worked.)

            There wasn’t time to congratulate himself for the plan, not just yet.  He still hadn’t made his attack.  Alhaitham summoned three more mirrors, aimed, and

            CRACK

            Zhongli’s forearm struck him square across the chest.

***

            …

            … where…

            … where am I…?

            …

***

            “… th… m…”

            “A… ha… am…?”

            “Alhaitham!”

            Alhaitham peeled his eyes open.  Three other pairs of eyes stared back at him – amber, gold, and midnight blue.

            Zhongli looked concerned, but his expression relaxed as Alhaitham’s eyes turned and focused on him.  “It’s alright.  He’s awake.”

            “Oh, good!” Paimon said.  The fairy seemed to sag a little in relief.  “Paimon was starting to get worried…”

            Alhaitham blinked, taking stock of his situation.  He was… on the ground, lying on his right side, surrounded by some scattered pieces of broken rock.  His back seemed to be against a wall.  Something flickered in the distance, behind the others.  Looking up with his eyes, he saw that it was Zhongli’s Geo stele – or the lower half of it, anyway.  The top half lay on the ground next to it, having apparently been broken off by… something.

            He tried to sit up for a better look, and immediately regretted it.

            Everything hurt.

            “Don’t move.”  Zhongli pressed a hand down on Alhaitham’s shoulder, as if to hold him in place.  “My apologies, I was startled and misjudged the force of my attack.  You were thrown across the room at a considerable speed.  Are you alright?”

            Alhaitham attempted to respond, but the only sound that came out was a weak “hnngh”.

            “I think that’s a ‘no’,” Lumine deadpanned.

            (It was definitely a “no”.  His chest and back felt like they’d been crushed beneath a Ruin Golem, and it felt like he was being stabbed every time he tried to breathe.)

            “Um, should we do something, then?”  Paimon fidgeted a little.  “Gandharva Ville isn’t too far, we know someone there who probably won’t ask too many questions…”

            (She was most likely referring to Tighnari.  The lead Forest Ranger was more perceptive than would be ideal in this situation, but he could probably be convinced that they’d simply run afoul of the ruins’ usual occupant, and probably didn’t know enough to be too suspicious of his patient’s… unusual constitution.  The lecture wouldn’t be fun, though.)

            Zhongli paused, then shook his head.  “I don’t think that will be necessary.  The Gnosis should be able to handle things.”

            Paimon blinked.  “The Gnosis?”

            “Yes.  Celestia is hardly so careless as to let one of their chosen be taken out by a simple accident such as this.  His internal elemental energy is stable, so the damage should be within the Gnosis’s ability to repair.  There’s also the accelerated natural healing that comes with godhood, which you have most likely already observed.”

            “Oh… well, that’s good.  Um, how long will that take, though?  There might be trouble if he’s away from the city for too long…”

            “The Gnoses can work pretty quickly, when their power isn’t simultaneously being used for something else.  And since he hasn’t attuned yet, there’s not much else for the Gnosis to do at the moment.  He should be sufficiently recovered by morning.”

            Alhaitham looked up.  The sky was visible through a hole in the ceiling; judging from the slight orange glow, the sun was just starting to set.

            (Twelve hours, give or take.  He could handle that.)

            Alhaitham shifted uncomfortably, wincing as the movement sent another stab of pain through his chest.  It wasn’t as bad as before though, and the side he’d been lying on was starting to ache.  Against his better judgment, he turned, pushing his left shoulder into the wall with what little strength he could gather, and managed to roll over onto his back.

            “Oh!  Paimon thinks he’s doing better already!”

            “Hnnghh.”

            “Or, um, maybe not.”

            “Let’s not bother him for now,” Lumine said, pulling Paimon away by one hand.  “Come on, let’s go find something to cook for dinner.”

            “I can stay and keep watch,” Zhongli said.  “That Ruin Machine will likely not be back up for another hour or two, but it’s best to stay on the safe side.”

            “Okay!”  Paimon bobbed her head cheerfully.  “We’ll be back soon!”

            Alhaitham watched her leave with Lumine, while Zhongli made his way over to a grassy patch nearby and lifted some dirt out of the ground with his Geo powers, presumably setting up a spot for a cooking fire.  On the other side of the room, the wrecked Aeonblight Drake sparked a little, but showed no signs of functionality otherwise.

            (He hoped the Gnosis worked as quickly as Zhongli had said.  Even reading seemed like it would be too exhausting right now.)

            Alhaitham looked back up at the sky.  The sunset was much more apparent now.

            (Though speaking of the Gnosis, he had just used his Dendro powers quite extensively…)

            POP!

            Zhongli glanced over at him, having evidently noticed the burst of elemental energy.  He eyed the Dendro Gnosis as it floated over its wielder for a moment, then vanished again.

            “Better.  Keep working on it.”

            “Hnngh.”

***

            When Alhaitham woke up again, it was dark out.

            He blinked at the moon, just visible through the hole in the ceiling.  When had he fallen asleep?  He remembered… Lumine and Paimon had come back from gathering ingredients for dinner, and they’d been talking to him while waiting for the food to cook.  To him, because with how much it had still hurt to breathe, he hadn’t been able to say much in return – though he had, at least, managed to start speaking actual words again.  They’d explained what had happened the first time he’d gone into that light-like state, and had been attempting to reason through some of the details of how that ability actually worked.  The physics, how it differed from real light…

            That was where his memories ended.  He’d dozed off at some point, it seemed.

            Alhaitham looked around.  There was a plate on the ground nearby, with two skewers of meat and fish, as well as a cup of water and a bowl containing some Flaming Flower stamens.  Lumine and Paimon were asleep near the dying embers of the campfire.  Zhongli was…

            CRASH!

            Oh, there he was.  The Ley Lines had just finished reassembling the Aeonblight Drake, apparently; Zhongli was thus busy disassembling it again.  He’d already put a spear through each of the Drake’s cores, and was now rearranging the gigantic Ruin Machine’s internal circuitry, using what appeared to be a segment from one of its wings.

            Now that he was no longer on (or about to be on) the business end of the Geo Archon’s polearm, Alhaitham could admit that the scene was rather amusing.

            Belatedly, he realized that the blinding pain that had accompanied his previous attempts to breathe was no longer present.  Cautiously, he sat up, and was relieved to find that he could do so without too much discomfort, so long as he didn’t try to move too quickly.

            However the Gnosis worked, it was certainly effective.

            Moving slowly to avoid aggravating his still-healing injuries, Alhaitham carefully set the plate of food on top of the bowl of Flaming Flowers, then picked up the cup of water and leaned back against the wall to wait while the food reheated.  Across the room, there was a dull screech of metal as Zhongli separated the Aeonblight Drake’s tail from the rest of its body, causing the still-whirring gear at the end to finally spin to a stop.

            (Lumine and Paimon didn’t even stir.)

            Alhaitham idly swirled the cup of water as the Drake’s lights finally sputtered and died.  He started to raise the cup to take a drink, but stopped and grimaced as something in his chest seemed to seize from the movement.  Oddly, it seemed to be coming from somewhere around his heart, but he didn’t feel any irregularities in his pulse when he checked.  It also didn’t really hurt.  That said, he did feel a strange amount of elemental energy building up –

            (Ah.  Maybe if he…)

            Pop!

            He exhaled as the energy buildup immediately cleared, and cautiously allowed the Gnosis to return to him.  Thankfully, nothing else unusual seemed to happen.

            (It was probably a side effect of whatever the Gnosis was doing to heal him so quickly.  At least it seemed to be easily resolved; he’d still be sure to ask Zhongli about it later, though.)

            He started to take a drink again, only to stop a second time.

            Strange.  When had the water turned green?

            Alhaitham eyed the liquid suspiciously, then blinked as the color suddenly cleared.  Odd.  Though, he had felt a slight ripple of Dendro energy as the color went away…

            He pulsed a bit of Dendro through his hand, doing his best to imitate the ripple he’d felt.  The energy washed over the cup, briefly turning it and the surface of the water… blue?

            Well.  That was interesting.

            (Maybe if he could figure out how to control it…)

***

            Pop!

            Alhaitham frowned as the Gnosis returned to its usual location.  His attunement progress seemed to have slowed; it had been a few days, now, since his spar with Zhongli, with almost no noticeable change in the intensity of that energy burst.  He’d done his best to keep exercising his elemental powers in that time, but it didn’t seem to have helped much.

            Though to be fair, he supposed he shouldn’t be too surprised that he wasn’t able to keep up the much higher rate of progress he’d observed before, considering that was likely a result of the aforementioned spar.  The idle exercises he’d been doing while wading through endless mountains of paperwork were likely just a drop in the bucket in comparison.

            (They were, however, surprisingly helpful for maintaining focus while working through the aforementioned paperwork.)

            Alhaitham sighed as he shifted in his seat, grimacing slightly at the lingering stiffness in his back.  He hadn’t been in any significant pain since that night under Devantaka Mountain, but some of the more persistent effects of that fight still had yet to fully fade.

            Spending most of each day stuck sitting at his desk was probably not helping.

            For that matter, neither was his current visitor.

            “Yeah, the old blockhead sure hits hard, ehe.  At least you haven’t seen him mad yet – he really likes his meteors.”

            (That sounded like a comment made from experience.)

            Alhaitham sighed again.  “Venti, is there a reason for you to be in my office right now?  I have an important meeting this afternoon, and a dozen project proposals to review before then.  If you’re only here for idle conversation, then I’ll have to ask you to come back at another time.”

            (He knew he shouldn’t have granted the scholars in charge of the literacy course project permission to hire additional help.  The three of them should have been enough to handle things, at least in these early planning stages.  But they’d been absurdly persistent, and he’d given in just to get them to stop wasting everyone’s time, and then there were suddenly twenty of them.  Now he was stuck going through all their proposals – because of course none of them had bothered to communicate on anything – to determine who to keep on the project and who to dismiss.)

            Venti grinned, holding up a book.  “I was wondering how long it would take you to ask that.  Well, I ran into Lumine the other day, and she mentioned you were having, uh, issues, with people wanting to talk to the Archon instead of his proxy.  So, I brought you this!”

            Alhaitham blinked as Venti set the book down on his desk.  It looked… extremely old.  Classical Sumeruan Names and Meanings: A Compendium.  “Where did you get this?”

            “I found it in the Knights of Favonius Library!  I think I swiped it from Nahida and hid it there as a joke a really long time ago… you know, before all the stuff happened.  The librarian couldn’t find any records of it, so she let me have it!”

            (Well, at least Venti had checked.  There were… rumors… about the Knights’ librarian.  That said rumors had made it all the way to Sumeru was possibly saying something.)

            “Right, and what made you decide to bring it back now?”

            Venti grinned again.  “The Archon still needs a name, right?  One that won’t make people start coming up with weird random connections that probably don’t actually exist?  Well, all the names in this book are really old, and people probably don’t even use half of them anymore, so I figured this might help him out!”

            Alhaitham blinked again as he opened the book and started flipping through the pages.  It was in surprisingly good condition, for its age; aside from a bit of smoke damage and the natural yellowing of the paper, it honestly looked like it had just come off a bookstore shelf somewhere.  The Knights really took care of their collection, apparently.  Either that, or Venti had hidden this book really well.  “I… see.”

            “Also, it kind of seems like the Archon’s a bit shy, you know?”  Venti leaned back in his chair, absently twirling a quill pen in one hand.  He ignored the flat look Alhaitham gave him.  “I thought he might want some tips for staying unnoticed in public, so he doesn’t have to hide from everyone all the time.”

            Alhaitham paused.  That was… a fair suggestion, honestly.  And Venti was probably not the worst person in the world to get such advice from, considering he apparently walked freely amongst his people with minimal fear of recognition, despite very clearly resembling his Statues of the Seven and the enormous statue of himself right in the middle of his city.

            “Alright, then.  I can take a message for him.”

            “Great!  So first off – ”

            Venti stopped twirling the pen.

            It suddenly occurred to Alhaitham that said pen had been sitting in his inkwell before Venti picked it up, and was therefore full of ink.

            Ink shot out of the quill, and splattered all over the top document on a nearby stack of paperwork, sitting on top of a file folder labeled “Complete”.

            Silence.

            “Whoops!”  Venti dropped the now-empty pen.  “Actually, it looks like I have to go – I’ll have to give you that message some other time!  See you later!”

            There was a burst of Anemo, then a pop of air as a tiny wind sprite squeezed through the gap between Alhaitham’s office door and its frame.

            More silence.

            Alhaitham slowly pinched the bridge of his nose.

            (Inhale.  Exhale.  It was one page of one document.  He needed to see what it was.)

            He picked up the ruined sheet of paper.  It was the first page of a project proposal.  His annotations were now covered in splattered ink.

            (The title was still legible.  He needed to read the title.)

            A Detailed Framework for Teaching Literacy Skills via Advanced Theoretical Astrology.

            He exhaled, and set the paper back on top of the pile it had come from.

            (It was alright.  That one hadn’t been worth the paper it was written on, anyway.)

            Alhaitham sighed.  Venti was… well, he certainly lived up to his title of God of Freedom, in any case.  Possibly to a fault.

            (He now understood the comment about seeing Zhongli angry.)

            Alhaitham turned back to the book Venti had brought.  At least that was still potentially useful.  Sumeru would need to see their Archon eventually; at the very least, the Archon would be expected to make an appearance at his “coronation day”, whenever that wound up being.

            (He could justify delaying that event for now, at least to himself.  The Gnosis still hadn’t fully attuned to its new wielder, after all.  But that explanation wouldn’t last forever… and in the end, even he knew it was really just an excuse.)

            Alhaitham started to set the book aside for the time being – he still had project proposals to read, after all – but paused as he noticed that his pen was now sitting on top of it.  Retrieving the pen, he briefly glanced at the page it had landed on.

            Names beginning with “I”, masculine.

            His eyes skimmed over the list of names and their meanings.

            They stopped.

            Idris.  “Studious”, “smart”, “to learn”.  Possibly “interpreter”.

            (… why not?)

Chapter Text

            The strange feeling started just before noon.

            Alhaitham was in a meeting – the first of many scheduled for the day – when he first noticed it; a strange, tingling pressure inside his head, accompanied by a faint, recurring pulse of Dendro in his chest that could only be something to do with the Gnosis.  Unfortunately, there would be no opportunity to investigate the matter for some time; he obviously couldn’t take out the Gnosis in front of just anyone, none of that day’s meetings could be easily rescheduled, and his agenda was too tightly packed to find even a single spare moment to step away and check on this sudden new development.

            By the time he finally managed to escape to the solitude of his office, several hours later, the pressure was almost unbearable.

            (For neither the first nor the last time, he found himself questioning why his Vision couldn’t have been some other element instead.)

            Alhaitham paused only long enough to make sure his “out of office” sign was up (not technically a lie; he was, in fact, off the clock for the day) and the door was locked before finally pushing the Gnosis out of his body, letting out a massive sigh of relief as the pressure in his head finally dissipated.  He immediately noticed two things.

            The first was that the Gnosis appeared with barely a ripple of Dendro.

            (That had certainly taken long enough.)

            The second was the unfamiliar memory that suddenly inserted itself into his mind.

            Irminsul was burning.

            The Dendro Gnosis emerged into a hand that was not his own.  The Gnosis flared with Dendro energy, more than he’d ever seen in one place, and thin, deft fingers started pulling the energy into strands, weaving countless threads of elemental power into a form he couldn’t recall having ever seen before, but somehow recognized nonetheless.

            The Gnosis vanished as the inexplicably-familiar object solidified, taking on a strangely synthetic appearance, despite apparently being made entirely of Dendro.  The object hovered in the unfamiliar hands for a moment, before it disappeared as well.

            Dendro energy surged, even more than before.

            [Establishing administrator access key.]

            A pulse of Dendro.

            [Administrator access key set.]

            [Administrator access granted.]

            An unfamiliar voice spoke, barely audible over the crackle of flames.

            “Forgive me, Sumeru.”

            Alhaitham blinked as the memory ended.

            He suddenly became aware of a voice speaking in his mind.

            [Please enter administrator access key.]

            He paused, then cautiously mimicked the pulse of Dendro from that foreign memory.

            [Administrator access key accepted.]

            [Administrator access granted.]

            [Welcome to the Akasha System.]

***

            Somewhere, a Kshahrewar scholar looked up from his studies, and shivered.

            He looked around.

            Seeing no one, he adjusted his glasses, and got back to work.

***

            Alhaitham sat at his office desk, contemplating the new issue that had suddenly presented itself to him.

            The Akasha repeated its question in his mind.

            [Power source detected.  Power on? (Yes/No)]

            [No]

            (Not yet, at least.)

            Alhaitham frowned.

            A childlike voice spoke in his memory.

            “… it would appear that the Akasha System shut down due to loss of power… but I had intended to shut it down regardless… Of course, since your receipt of this message means I am no longer the Archon, the final decision is entirely up to you.”

            It was… a difficult decision, to be certain.

            On the one hand, the Akasha’s faults were quite obvious.  Alhaitham knew them better than almost anyone, having exploited them ruthlessly for Jnagarbha Day.  He still remembered Cyno’s smirk, Dehya and Rahman’s uproarious laughter – despite the exhaustion that already clung to all of them, three days after everything had fallen apart – as the General Mahamatra recounted Azar’s confusion in the Sanctuary of Surasthana, at the fact that even the Grand Sage himself was helpless to resist as the Akasha twisted his perception of reality.  Alhaitham was also very much aware of the Akasha’s long-term effects on society, given that said effects were currently the source of one of his biggest headaches.

            (Certain other functions didn’t even need to be brought up.)

            On the other hand, most of the aforementioned long-term effects were showing up specifically in the absence of the Akasha… and turning the Akasha back on was certainly the quickest solution, if not the most ideal.

            Alhaitham was a realist.  He knew the ideal solution to a problem was not always the most practical.  Teaching Sumeru’s people to read, write, do math, and think on their own, rather than outsourcing all of those things to the Akasha, was obviously the best long-term solution to the associated problems, but that solution would take time.  Literacy and math skills took months to teach, and critical thinking could take even longer, especially with the atrophy the Akasha had caused.  Sumeru had lived with the Akasha for centuries; fully breaking the people’s dependence on that technology would take at least a generation, just to burn away the roots of the problem, and thus ensure that it would not return.

            The nation’s economy was bleeding, due to the people’s current inability to keep their businesses running at a reasonable pace.  The Akademiya was barely functioning, because its students and scholars had no idea how to do actual research.

            Because they’d been using the Akasha for those things, and the Akasha had gone down without warning.

            There was no guarantee Sumeru would survive long enough for the ideal solution.

            Of course, when there’d been no known means of restoring access to the Akasha, that hadn’t really mattered.  The ideal solution had also been the only solution, at that point.  There’d been little choice but to start the long trek down that road, and hope that they’d reach the end in time.  But now that restoring the Akasha was an option…

            (Just as the literacy and math course projects were finally starting to get off the ground.  Just when there was finally a sensible framework written out for each of those projects, and the general public was finally coming around to the idea of actually learning those skills, rather than continuing to sit around waiting for the Akasha to possibly return.)

            Reactivating the Akasha – allowing Sumeru’s dependence on its power and convenience to continue – was not in the nation’s best interest, in the long term.  But for the long term to even matter, they first had to make it through the short term.

            The Akasha would be very useful, in the short term.

            (Think.  This didn’t have to be all or nothing.  There had to be a middle road…)

            Alhaitham leaned back in his chair, absently fiddling with his headphones’ wire as he considered the matter… then paused.

            His headphones contained a simplified Akasha Terminal, specifically adapted to assist in the use of his elemental powers.  And really, with how much that component had been modified, it could hardly be considered an “Akasha Terminal” anymore; about the only thing left of the original device was its ability to interface directly with the mind.  It didn’t even have the ability to connect to the actual Akasha – there was no need for that, given that its intended function was simply to run a few basic physics calculations and provide an indicator of where he was aiming (aiming unassisted was surprisingly unintuitive).

            The Akasha System was, ultimately, just another form of technology.  And technology could be altered.

            Calling up the Akasha’s control interface in his mind again, Alhaitham started skimming through the various options and settings that presented themselves to him.  It was surprisingly easy to navigate, despite the system’s obvious complexity; he wondered how much of that was from five hundred years of Sages poking around, and how much was actually by Lord Kusanali’s design.  On the one hand, Lord Kusanali had apparently thrown the whole thing together more or less on the spot, if that memory he’d received was accurate; on the other hand, she was the God of Wisdom, and Alhaitham wasn’t particularly inclined to give much credit to the people who’d foolishly imprisoned her for so long.

            That said, the Akasha was, nonetheless, clearly a highly intricate piece of technology – not something to be tinkered with carelessly.  He needed a better understanding of how it worked before he attempted to make any changes.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t likely that he could find any sort of instruction manual anywhere, and the system’s creator was unavailable…

            The Gnosis pulsed with Dendro.

            Alhaitham blinked.

            He got about two seconds to wonder what the Gnosis wanted now, before the world blurred, and everything went black.

***

            Alhaitham’s first thought, upon opening his eyes, was that the Gnosis had teleported him to the Sanctuary of Surasthana for some reason.  It seemed like the most reasonable explanation, at first glance; he didn’t know of any other location with quite so much green.

            His second thought was that, judging from the lack of walls, this was clearly not the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

            Alhaitham blinked, then sat up and looked around.  He was… he had no idea where he was.  Wherever this was, it seemed to be indoors, based on the glassy, Dendro-green floor.  But on the other hand, if there was a ceiling above him, then it was impossibly high.  In fact, looking up, it felt more like he was looking into the sky – except this “sky” was also green.  The area also seemed strangely well-lit, given that there was no apparent light source – natural or artificial – anywhere within sight.  On top of that, both the floor and the “sky” were also marked by a grid of pale, faintly-glowing white lines, and…

            Were those streams of text floating by, under the floor and in the air?

            (Was he dreaming?)

            He pinched himself.  It hurt.

            (He wasn’t dreaming.)

            A passing stream of text seemed to solidify briefly, symbols rearranging themselves to form the silhouette of a person, before returning to its original form, and continuing on its way.

            (… probably.)

            Pausing, Alhaitham stood up.

            As he did, a holographic display – like the one projected by an Akasha Terminal, but larger – opened up in front of him.

            [Welcome, administrator.]

            … well.  That was new.

            A map suddenly appeared in his mind.  Looking over the hologram, he saw that the same map had also appeared in the corner.  Or at least, part of it had – the whole map, “visible” in his mind, was massive.  There was a glowing green spot in the center; somehow, he instinctively knew that it indicated his current location in this strange space.

            More text appeared on the hologram.

            [Please enter search criteria.]

            Search criteria?  Was he supposed to be searching for something?  Or, well, this was clearly something related to the Akasha, so maybe it was asking him what to search for.

            What did he want to search for?

            [Searching for: Who is the current Dendro Archon?]

            A second glowing spot, this one yellow, appeared on his mental map.  On the holographic display, an arrow in the same color appeared in one corner of the map, pointing in the direction of the yellow spot shown in his mind.

            Interesting.

            This required further investigation.

***

            The answer, for now, was “Lesser Lord Kusanali”.

            (He’d have to keep an eye on that.)

***

            He was inside the Akasha.

            Alhaitham was acutely aware that this was a ridiculous notion.  For one thing, according to the memory he’d received earlier, the Akasha was apparently physically small enough to fit in a person’s hands.  For another, well…

            Alright, there wasn’t really another thing.  The idea still seemed patently absurd, though.

            That being said, there was really no better explanation for his current circumstances.

            It also presented a surprisingly simple solution to his previous conundrum.

            [Searching for: Akasha functions and settings]

            Several points appeared on the map.  Alhaitham focused on one, and some text appeared – Information Access Controls.

            (That was one he’d definitely have to look into.  The current information control settings needed… revision, at the very least.)

            Scanning over the other points, Alhaitham quickly made a mental note of which ones to check, and which ones could be left for later perusal, or ignored entirely.

            Slowly, he was figuring out the system’s blueprint.

***

            [Searching for: Akasha power usage]

***

            [Aside from increasing the Akasha’s processing power, Jnana Energy also enables the creation of more vivid, realistic, and/or lifelike imagery and memories.]

            (Logically, then, would the Akasha’s influence on the mind be reduced, if it were forced to run without Jnana Energy?)

***

            [Searching for: Akasha power settings]

***

            [Searching for: Akasha power controls]

***

            Alhaitham gazed up at the massive device before him – one of the few actual, physical landmarks in this space, which otherwise seemed to consist entirely of assorted data constructs that appeared as they were needed, and disappeared once they’d served their purpose.  On his mental map, some text appeared briefly as he focused on, then dismissed, the point he’d marked as his current destination.

            Power Management – Intake.

            From his research of the Akasha System’s inner workings, Alhaitham had determined that while the system’s most basic functions – the ones necessary to keep it up and running at a minimum level – were powered by the Dendro Gnosis, everything beyond that ran primarily on Jnana Energy.  Without Jnana Energy, the power drawn from the Gnosis that wasn’t already spent on essential processes was only enough to maintain a few additional operations.

            He’d isolated the few that were really necessary (for now, at least).  The search and request processing functions were needed, of course, as was the ability to actually process all the data the system contained.  Some basic computational functions for day-to-day use.  The Gnosis was enough to handle these few things.

            Everything else – dream manipulation, advanced computation and model generation, automatic user profiling and analytics – required additional power.  Power that had been supplied by harvesting the people’s dreams.

            (He suppressed a shudder at the memory of Lumine and Paimon telling everyone of that endlessly-repeating Sabzeruz Festival.  He was so, so glad he’d taken an extra day to organize and pack his belongings before returning from Port Ormos, even if that unexplained feeling of someone having gone through his “research” on the Divine Knowledge Capsule was likely just baseless paranoia.  Would he have realized what was going on, had he been trapped in that loop with everyone else?  Would he have remained oblivious?  And really, which of those options would he have actually preferred?)

            Alhaitham looked down at the base of the device, at the assorted pipes and tubes leading out of its main body – a massive, hollow glass column, stretching endlessly into the “sky”, set in a sturdy metal base – and through the floor.  As he did, the holographic display from before, which conveniently dismissed itself whenever he no longer had need of it, reappeared, helpfully displaying some text to indicate what purpose each conduit served.

            (It was interesting that the Akasha was giving him information as text, rather than simply injecting it into his brain.  Had it detected that he preferred it this way?  He’d have to look into whether that was a setting that could be manually changed; it’d certainly help keep the efforts to increase Sumeru’s literacy rate from simply getting discarded as soon as the Akasha went back up, though it obviously wasn’t a change that could be made immediately.)

            Alhaitham quickly identified the pipes he was looking for – Jnana Energy, input.  There were a lot of them; unsurprising, given the number of sources the Akasha had been drawing that energy from.

            With a pulse of Dendro (everything in here seemed to be controlled using Dendro – not that he was particularly surprised by that, either), he disconnected them all.

            It wasn’t a complete fix, of course.  Further modifications would possibly be needed, and legal reforms would be necessary to control the use of the functions that remained.  The matter of breaking the people’s dependence on the Akasha, especially, would need more work – he hadn’t found an actual fix for that, unfortunately, other than the possibility that the lack of Jnana Energy would naturally reduce the Akasha’s influence.

            But it was a start.

            (Now then, how exactly did he exit this – )

            [Exit? (Yes/No)]

            (… well, that was certainly convenient.)

            [Yes]

***

            Alhaitham blinked as he found himself back in his office, once again sitting at his desk.

            That had been… interesting, to say the least.  Even now, he wasn’t entirely sure it hadn’t all been an incredibly vivid hallucination.  He was, at least, going to assume that it had merely been his consciousness inside the Akasha just now, and not actually him.  The Akademiya had done experiments on uploading people’s minds to the Akasha before; he could believe that the Gnosis had done something similar far more easily than he could wrap his mind around the idea that he had actually physically entered an object the size of a large apple.

            Alhaitham took a deep breath to clear his thoughts.  He needed to focus on next steps; pondering the intricacies of Gnosis-induced mental field trips could come later.  First, he needed to check that he had, in fact, managed to modify the Akasha System, and that the changes he’d made would actually work as intended.  He’d have to set up a test of some sort…

            Alhaitham paused as he looked down at his desk, and suddenly noticed a folded sheet of paper that hadn’t been there before.

            (How had that gotten there?  He was sure he’d locked the door – )

            He looked up.  His eyes settled on his mailbox, which he knew he’d emptied before sitting down at his desk to consider what to do with the Akasha.

            The box that was large enough to hold at least three days’ worth of mail, even with the massively increased influx that had come with all the recent chaos.

            The box that was now filled to overflowing.

            (He suddenly had a bad feeling about this.)

            Alhaitham looked back down at the paper on his desk.  He quickly unfolded it.

            It was a note.

Alhaitham,

            What in the world have you been doing these last few days?!  I’ve been looking all over for you!  Yeah, I know, that’s nothing unusual, but everyone’s saying you had to go deal with some kind of personal emergency – yeah, right, as if that’s going to fool me.

            You’d better come tell me what trouble you’ve been getting up to as soon as you get this note!  You’re dead if I find out this was your idea of a joke!

Kaveh

            (Oh, no.)

***

            Fortunately, Kaveh was there when Alhaitham got home.

            Unfortunately, Kaveh was there when Alhaitham got home.

            “You…!  You up and disappear on me for half of a week, and you’re not even going to tell me what you were doing in that time?!  Do you have any idea how much housework…”

            Alhaitham sighed as Kaveh continued to rant.  Lumine and Paimon, watching from one of the couches in his living room, seemed amused.  They’d apparently run into Kaveh while he was picking the lock on Alhaitham’s office door, and decided to follow him.

            “Hey, don’t just stand there saying nothing!  Are you even listening to me?!”

            Alhaitham sighed again.  “Yes, and are you quite finished?  As I told you, there was some business that required my attention, which prevented me from leaving the Akademiya until it had been fully dealt with.  The matter is highly confidential, hence why nobody could tell you about it, though the credibility of whatever excuse they chose to supply you with is hardly my concern.  And before you ask, no, you’re still not allowed to know about it.  If you have an issue with that, you’re free to take it up with the Archon.”

            (All objectively true.  The Akasha had required his attention, he had been unable to leave his office while dealing with it, the matter was in fact confidential, and Kaveh was not allowed to know of it.  And Kaveh was, in fact, welcome to complain to the Archon; whether his complaints would actually go anywhere, on the other hand, was a completely different matter.)

            Kaveh glared at him.  “You’re really not going to tell me anything, are you?”

            “Oh?  What makes you think I’m hiding something?”

            (Not a lie.  He hadn’t actually denied that he was hiding something.  It wasn’t his fault if Kaveh assumed anything about the question’s supposed implications.)

            “You…!  You know what, I just can’t with you right now.  I’m heading out for the night – we’ll finish this discussion later!”

            And with that, Kaveh walked out and slammed the door.

            “Um,” Paimon said, “‘heading out for the night’?  Doesn’t he live here?”

            “That’s just his way of saying I’ll have to collect him from the tavern later.”  Alhaitham paused to lock the door, idly noting that Kaveh’s housekey was still hanging from its hook on the nearby wall.  “With any luck, he’ll have forgotten all about whatever he saw in my office by the time he wakes up tomorrow.”

            (He generally tried not to let Kaveh get quite that drunk, but the present situation was… unusual, to say the least.)

            Paimon blinked.  “What do you mean?  Was there something in your office he wasn’t supposed to see?”

            Alhaitham paused, and looked at her for a moment.  “Is it not obvious?”

            “Um… Paimon can’t think of anything…”

            (… did she really think he was just taking an unusually heavy nap?)

            “I think there may be a slight misunderstanding,” Lumine said.  “Maybe you should tell us what you think we saw?”

            “… I… am aware that I was suddenly unavailable, with no explanation, for an extended period of time.  I currently suspect that I was… abnormally unconscious… during that time.”

            “‘Abnormally unconscious’?  What do you…”  Paimon blinked again.  “Oh wait, Paimon gets it now!  You thought you were asleep in your office and we couldn’t wake you up, and that Kaveh might have figured some stuff out based on that!”  She paused.  “But, um, you weren’t in your office when we went in there.  What exactly were you doing, anyway?”

            “I…”  Alhaitham took a moment to process what Paimon had just said.  “I wasn’t?”

            “There was nobody in your office,” Lumine confirmed.  “You kind of just… disappeared for a few days.  The Sages were a little worried when you stopped showing up to meetings all of a sudden, but we – that’s me, Paimon, and the Sages – all just assumed you’d had to go deal with some kind of Archon thing, and told everyone looking for you that you had ‘personal business’.”  She paused and shrugged.  “I guess Kaveh didn’t buy it, though.”

            “We were going to your office to see if you were back,” Paimon said, “and found Kaveh instead.  He’d just opened the door when we got there.  We started following him, just in case he got too close to anything super-secret, but he didn’t really find anything.”

            Alhaitham exhaled.

            (That was… a relief.  Kaveh generally knew how to keep a secret – his propensity for suspiciously specific denials aside – but he was a talkative drunk, and his alcohol tolerance was surprisingly low for how much time he spent at the tavern.  He would also never shut up about the matter in private, irrespective of how much he’d say in public.)

            “Also, you haven’t answered Paimon’s question yet!  Where were you, and why did you think you were sleeping in your office?”

            Oh, right.  That.

            “I was… investigating the Akasha System.”

            Paimon blinked.  “The Akasha – wait, what?  You mean…”

            “I suddenly gained access to it a few days ago.  The Gnosis finally finished attuning to me around the same time; the two events may be related.”  He paused.  “And… based on what you’ve just told me… it would seem that I was physically inside the Akasha.”

            Lumine and Paimon stared.

            “Trust me, I’m not sure I fully believe it yet, either.  That was why I thought I’d been in my office these past few days.  I clearly recalled being in a strange space that showed numerous signs of being the inside of the Akasha, but I assumed it was merely my consciousness that had entered that space.  That seemed like the more reasonable explanation.  I thus assumed that my body had remained where it was before being separated from my mind, which was my office.”

            Lumine stared some more, then slowly nodded.  “Right, that… makes sense.  I think.”

            Paimon raised a hand to her head.  “Paimon is so confused…”

            “Yes, I suspected you would be.”

            “Wha – hey, what was that supposed to mean?!”

            Alhaitham ignored Paimon’s indignant stomping motion.  “On that note, I do have a… task… of sorts, for you two, if you’re open to it.”

            Paimon huffed.  “Ugh, right after… fine, whatever.  But it better not involve any sort of weird Akasha mind-stealing business!”

            He paused.  “It… shouldn’t, assuming the result is as expected.”

            “The… huh?”

            “Allow me to explain what I was investigating…”

***

            Lumine, Paimon, Nilou, Naphis, and Zaman.

            Five was not as large a sample size as he would like, but given the topic of this study, it was as large as he was likely to get.

            (He’d thought about asking Dehya, but nobody knew where she’d been as of late, so whatever choice he’d have made on that matter was meaningless.  He’d also briefly considered asking Cyno, but just as quickly discarded that thought.)

            Five people would be sleeping with an Akasha Terminal connected that night.

            Alhaitham sat at his office desk, carefully double-checking the test space he’d set up within the Akasha – an isolated section of the greater system, centered on the power intake device.  He needed this test to go right, and that meant he had to be absolutely sure that there would be no outside interference.

            Accessible with administrator authorization only, check.

            No other users already connected, check.

            All non-essential functions suspended, check.

            (He was glad he’d figured out how to manage these things from outside the Akasha at this point.  His control wasn’t nearly as precise as it was from the inside, but there were definite advantages to not having to disappear in order to make any sort of change, especially with how difficult it was to keep track of time in a space with no discernable day or night.)

            With all the settings confirmed, he took out a book to wait.

            The first connection request came about an hour later, from Naphis; Zaman’s request came shortly thereafter.  Alhaitham let them both connect to the test space, then returned to his book; there wouldn’t be anything to see for a little while yet.

            Nilou’s connection request came a couple of hours after the Sages’.

            Then, finally, Lumine and Paimon’s requests came simultaneously, just before midnight.

            Setting his book aside, Alhaitham settled back in his chair for a long night of observation.  If he had done things right – and things seemed to be going as expected thus far – it was going to be very boring.  It was a good thing gods didn’t normally feel the need to sleep.

            (Nilou had mentioned that she was currently working the morning shift as a temporary reading assistant at Puspa Café; the café opened at six.  The Akademiya’s day started at seven.  Lumine and Paimon’s schedule was less consistent, but he knew they wound up taking most of the commissions the Akademiya sent to the Adventurers’ Guild, and the completion reports for those were usually timestamped for some time around ten.)

            Slowly, the clock ticked over to the next day.

            (Nine hours to go.)

***

            Shortly after eight the next morning, Lumine and Paimon disconnected.

            Not a trace of Jnana Energy had come in all night.

***

            [Power source detected.  Power on? (Yes/No)]

            [Yes]

***

            Alhaitham looked up at the Akasha’s power intake device, and frowned.

            For the most part, the reactivation of the Akasha System had gone exactly as planned.  With the announcement that the Akasha was back up, Sumeru City had practically sprung back to life.  Businesses were running smoothly again, the Akademiya was slowly resuming its usual operations, and the assorted issues caused by the city’s low literacy rate had been more or less resolved.  From the reports he’d been getting, the situation in Port Ormos was much the same.  There were some scattered complaints about the Akasha seeming somehow… less “alive”, than before, but for the most part, the people were very happy.

            The people were… less happy, to hear that there were plans to scale back the Akasha’s use and functionality over time.  There were, in particular, a lot of complaints about the plan to eventually discontinue the system’s ability to insert information directly into the mind, and instead have information presented strictly through the Akasha Terminal’s holographic display.  Meanwhile, there was quite a bit of alarm around the Akademiya over rumors that the Akasha would soon no longer be considered an acceptable source for research, or permit direct access to most forms of literature.

            In fairness, all this had been expected, as well.

            The short-term problems had been dealt with, but there was still a long way to go.

            That said, there was one thing Alhaitham was still trying to figure out.

            It was late at night, just after eleven.  He’d found a good stopping point in the endless sea of paperwork hours ago.  He really should have gone home by now, but something in the Akasha had caught his attention.

            The power intake device had been silent the last time he’d been here, its main tank empty in the absence of a power source.  Now, with the Gnosis reconnected, a thick, steady stream of Dendro-green energy flowed through the tank, and up into the “sky”.  That was as expected.

            But there was also something else.

            Alhaitham watched as a faint trickle of pale, yellow-green light, barely visible amidst the brighter, deeper green of the Gnosis’s power, flowed up the enormous glass cylinder.

            Jnana Energy.

            He glanced down at the various intake pipes coming out of the device’s base.  The ones for Jnana Energy were, as before, disconnected, their ports firmly sealed.

            There had been no reports, in the days since the Akasha had gone back up, of anyone noticing any changes in their ability to dream, whether they slept with an Akasha Terminal on or not.  Lumine, Paimon, Nilou, and the Sages were all still sleeping while connected, specifically to check for such a problem, and they’d all consistently reported that there were no issues.

            So how was Jnana Energy still coming in?

            Alhaitham frowned again.  Under ideal circumstances, he would look further into this matter.  He had disabled the Akasha’s ability to harvest dreams for a reason, after all; if there was some function he’d overlooked, or some vulnerability in the system, it needed to be dealt with, so as to avoid causing future problems.

            Under actual circumstances, dropping everything to investigate just wasn’t practical.

            There was other work to be done.  Matters of higher priority, like getting Akasha-related reforms set up before people got too complacent again, and progress slipped too far (he’d shut off the Akasha again if he had to, but he was treating that option as something of a last resort).  Like finding replacements for the numerous Akademiya personnel who’d been removed from their stations.  Like making sure the Fatui and their (figurative) puppets were properly disposed of, and would not regain their foothold in Sumeru.

            (Like planning a certain event that no longer had an excuse to be delayed.)

            The amount of Jnana Energy coming in was miniscule.  Too little to do much of anything with – certainly nothing significant.  He couldn’t justify prioritizing this matter over all the more concrete issues that were already demanding his attention.

            Alhaitham sighed, and made a mental note to check the power intake again in a few days.

            (He’d keep an eye on it, at least.)

            [Exit? (Yes/No)]

            [Yes]

Chapter Text

            Alhaitham gazed into the array of mirrors he’d created with his Dendro powers.

            His reflection stared back.

            Coronation Day had come with surprising speed, once he’d finally (reluctantly) allowed planning to begin after the Akasha had gone back up.  The efficiency was honestly somewhat ridiculous, when contrasted with the snail’s pace at which various more important matters were progressing; his life would be significantly less difficult if people were even half as enthusiastic about necessary legal reforms as they were about a holiday dedicated to an Archon who didn’t even want the attention.

            (He forced down the thought that his life would also be significantly less difficult if he’d just stayed out of the whole Archon-rescuing mess in the first place.  For one thing, that wasn’t even true – the now-former Sages had already made it quite clear that his presence had become a hindrance to them, with their attempt to effectively eliminate him using the Divine Knowledge Capsule.  For another, well… there were lines one just did not cross, no matter how beneficial it would be to do so.)

            He forced himself to discard those thoughts.  None of them mattered right now.

            What mattered now was making sure his life could still, eventually, go back to something resembling “normal”.

            (He knew it was possible, at the very least.  Venti was, to anyone who didn’t already know his identity, just another drunken bard, in a city where drunks and bards were both a Mora per dozen.  And Zhongli somehow managed to avoid recognition despite making no secret of his ridiculously vast knowledge, including details long gone from any mortal memory – possibly due to the seeming absurdity of the creator of Mora being utterly financially incompetent, if Lumine and Paimon were to be believed.  He still wasn’t sure if that wasn’t just a ruse the older Archon maintained for the sake of his disguise… and possibly his own entertainment.)

            Alhaitham took a deep breath, and quickly reviewed the main points he’d taken from the relevant books.

            Rule number one: Remove identifying features.

            He shrugged off his cape, and de-summoned it to the hidden compartment in his bedroom where he stored his swords when they weren’t in use.  A useful trick, one he was surprised didn’t see more use; he himself had never thought to apply the standard summoning enchantment to anything other than his weapons until the other Archons had suggested it.  His Akademiya sash also went into the hidden compartment, as did his belt.

            He paused, then reluctantly de-summoned his headphones as well.

            (Too recognizable.  Even with a color change, they’d give him away on sight.)

            On to things that were harder to remove.  His hair and eye colors were a problem, of course; naturally-gray hair wasn’t… too unusual, given that black was common and white wasn’t especially rare, but gray and mint green was incredibly distinctive.  Green irises with red pupils was hardly a typical combination, either.

            Fortunately, with a bit of experimentation, he’d managed to figure out how to control the color-changing effect he’d observed on that night under Devantaka Mountain, and gotten good enough at it to passively maintain the effect once it had been applied.  He couldn’t do anything too elaborate with it yet, but adjusting his hair and eye colors was nothing complicated.

            One quick application of Dendro later, he had white hair with Dendro-green highlights, and fully Dendro-green eyes.

            (The choice of eye color was purely logical; there was an obvious trend, if one looked at the other Archons’ appearances.  He’d noticed the way their elemental energy seemed to collect in their hair, as well – likely something that would happen to him as well, eventually.)

            That was rule number one taken care of, at least.

            Rule number two: Change your silhouette.

            He summoned the cloak – white, with gold trim – he’d seen stuffed in the back of an antiques shop a couple of weeks ago, when Kaveh had dragged him out in search of a few minor odds and ends for some project or other.  He’d sent Lumine to purchase it for him a few days later, and to have a few modifications made.

            (He wasn’t sure where exactly she’d gotten those modifications done, but she’d assured him that there would be no unwanted questions.  Something about a teapot?)

            He put the cloak on, pulled up the hood and collar, and took another look in the mirrors.

            (… not quite.  His clothes were still rather identifiable.)

            Another pulse of Dendro, and the rest of his clothes were now also white.

            (White seemed to be the color of choice for most of the Archons, based on the depictions of Barbatos and Morax he’d found in the House of Daena’s various books on mythology.  Older portrayals of the Raiden Shogun – most likely still Baal, back then – also had her wearing lighter colors.  And of course, there was Lord Kusanali.)

            He checked his reflection again.

            (Better.)

            Dispelling the mirrors, he turned to leave the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

            (He didn’t have to do anything in particular, he reminded himself.  He’d at least managed to negotiate his part in Coronation Day down to simply being present for a few hours.  All he had to do was wander around the city, and maybe attempt to seem interested in the festivities.)

            The guard waiting for him outside the Sanctuary jumped a little as the grand double doors creaked open.  “Oh, uh, L-Lord Idris, sir!”  A hasty, slightly panicked bow.  “I-is it time to head down now, sir?”

            He nodded.

            (He reminded himself that nobody had ever seen the current Archon up to this point.  The guard’s reaction would most likely be the standard.)

            “R-right, uh, after you, then, sir.”

            He paused briefly to adjust his cloak’s high collar, making sure it was pulled up over the lower half of his face.  Rule number three: Obscure facial features.

            (He had to admit, whoever Lumine had commissioned for the modifications, they’d done good work; their craftsmanship was obvious, even to him.  The original cloak had been a simple, inexpensive item, but after the alterations – some green leaf and vine patterns, some more gold – no one would guess that it had been found on some random shop’s discount rack.  The final garment was unrecognizable.)

            Silently, he turned to start the long, winding walk down to ground level.

            (Just like the person in the mirror.)

***

            Cyno had been behaving strangely, recently.

            Tighnari frowned a little as he observed his friend from the corner of his eye.  He very carefully did not turn an ear in the General Mahamatra’s direction, so as to avoid making his attention too obvious.

            Not that it seemed like it would matter much.  Cyno was… unusually distracted, today.

            Tighnari paused, then lightly elbowed Cyno in the ribs.  Cyno visibly started on contact, which was unusual; he was normally too alert to be surprised by such things, his self-control too strong to let him show such surprise even when he was caught off guard.  “You alright, Cyno?  You’ve been staring at a whole lot of nothing for the last ten minutes.”

            “I’m fine,” Cyno said, a little stiffly.  “I was… thinking.”

            Tighnari raised an eyebrow at that.  “Oh really?  Careful now, wouldn’t want anything suspicious to get past you while you’re distracted.”

            Cyno blinked, then nodded.  “Of course not.”

            Tighnari watched him for another moment before saying anything further.  “Does it have anything to do with you getting put on patrol for Coronation Day, rather than being assigned to guard the new Archon?”

            Cyno stiffened a little.

            “It does, then.”  Tighnari paused, considering how to continue this line of questioning.  “Is there a particular reason you’re not with the Archon today?”

            “There’s…”  Cyno paused and shook his head.  “It’s nothing you need to worry about.  Lord Idris simply felt that my attention would be of more use elsewhere, that’s all.”

            Tighnari frowned again.  He didn’t believe that for a second… and it wasn’t like Cyno to lie, especially not so transparently.  “Well considering how things got to this point, I’m assuming you’ve already met him.  What’s he like?”

            Cyno took a moment to respond.  “He’s… not what I expected.  He can be very difficult to read, at times.  There’s no question of his intelligence or competence, but…”

            “I see.”  Tighnari turned to look out over the city.  He and Cyno were currently standing outside the Akademiya’s front doors.

            He took a moment to check that nobody was paying attention to them before asking his next question.  “Do you trust him?”

            No answer.

            That means “no”.

            Tighnari looked up at the sky, thinking.

            He… wasn’t sure what to make of that.

            Cyno was, generally speaking, a good judge of character.  He was typically good at telling whether someone could be trusted or not.  Tighnari supposed he should be concerned that his friend apparently had… doubts… regarding the new Archon.

            But there was something off about the situation.

            There was something off about Cyno.

            Tighnari started to consider what he should say next, but was pulled out of his thoughts by a sudden commotion behind him.  He turned to see that a small crowd had gathered at the Akademiya’s front entrance, centered on a tall, white-cloaked figure.

            Lord Idris.

            Tighnari paused and took a quick glance over at Cyno.  The General Mahamatra had gone stiff again.  His eyes were fixed firmly on the Archon, but then he suddenly flinched and turned away.  Tighnari looked back over at the crowd, and saw that Lord Idris was looking in their general direction.

            Something had happened between those two.

            Voices drifted over from the crowd.  They were a fair distance away, but Tighnari’s sharp ears easily picked out the words being spoken.  It seemed the crowd consisted mostly of students and scholars looking for information about various upcoming policy changes.

            “Lord Idris, sir, can we know when the new research source requirements will come into effect?  Will they apply to any work already in progress?”

            “Are there any details on the changes in access to past literature via the Akasha?”

            “How will this affect any proposals still pending approval?”

            Tighnari rolled his eyes.  Of course everyone was hung up on the Akasha stuff; it was honestly a little embarrassing, how reliant some people were on that technology.  He wondered how those people thought things had gotten done before Akasha Terminals were invented – the Akasha System was only five hundred years old, after all, while the Akademiya had existed for millennia.  With the way some of these fools were talking, one would almost think the concept of research had only been invented after the creation of the Akasha.

            How far had the Akademiya fallen in these last few centuries, that even these imbeciles had managed to gain admission?

            Tighnari turned his attention back on the present as the Corps of Thirty member who was apparently escorting the Archon attempted to clear a path through the crowd.  Lord Idris, for his part, mostly seemed to be ignoring the torrent of questions being thrown at him; he looked rather annoyed, not that Tighnari could blame him.  That being said, the Archon was apparently paying attention – a few actually sensible questions were being asked, and those seemed to be getting a response, judging from the reactions of those doing the asking.  Tighnari couldn’t hear the actual answers, though; Lord Idris was speaking too quietly for even the Forest Watcher’s ears to pick up at this distance, apparently.

            Tighnari glanced over at Cyno again.  His friend was still very carefully not looking in the Archon’s direction.  “What do you think of the pending Akasha reforms, Cyno?”

            Cyno didn’t have such a visible physical reaction this time, at least.  “I’m… not sure, yet.  I will need to see more of how things progress before passing judgment.”

            Tighnari raised an eyebrow.  “I didn’t mean it so… officially.  I was just wondering what your personal opinion on the subject was.”

            Silence.  Then, “The reforms themselves make sense, on paper, as does the decision to reactivate the Akasha in the first place.  But I want to see how everything works out in practice, before drawing any conclusions.  There may be… loopholes.”

            Tighnari frowned.  Cyno’s professional opinions on things like this were generally more or less the same – watch until as much information as can be reasonably expected has presented itself, make no conclusions until all the details are known.  His personal opinions, on the other hand, were not usually so… aggressively neutral.

            Tighnari wasn’t sure what it said, that in this case, Cyno’s personal and professional opinions were basically identical.

            His attention wandered back over to the crowd.  It was a little closer now, the Archon and his escort slowly making their way towards the path down to the city.

            More questions drifted into his ears.

            “Are all these changes really necessary?  Surely you’ve considered the impact they’ll have on the rate at which research can be conducted…”

            Of course he has, you idiot.  His reasoning was explained in the announcement that went out with the Akasha’s reactivation.  The one that’s automatically being sent to everyone putting on an Akasha Terminal for the first time since said reactivation.

            “I don’t understand, what difference does it make if the information is coming from a book or the Akasha?  Why waste time and effort reading when…”

            That was explained, too.  Reading forces you to actually think about the information, rather than just accepting it blindly.  You’re here to do research, not to be brainwashed.

            “But won’t all of this increase project costs?  With all the additional labor, the material cost of books…”

            Yes, because quality research naturally costs more than the useless garbage half of you seem to think passes for a meaningful study these days.  Again, explained in that announcement.  Didn’t any of you pay attention to that?  Are none of you even paying attention to the Akasha you’re so obsessed with anymore, now that it no longer says what you want to hear?

            “What are the historical implications of these changes?  The Akasha System is Lesser Lord Kusanali’s legacy, surely you can’t just – ”

            “Lord Kusanali.”

            Tighnari blinked as the crowd suddenly went quiet.  That voice was…

            “I, uh… what?”

            The Forest Watcher turned.  Lord Idris’s face was mostly concealed behind the collar of his cloak, so it was hard to tell for sure, but from the crowd’s reaction…

            “That’s Lord Kusanali, to you.”

            That was Lord Idris’s voice.

            Tighnari stared.

            … I’ve heard that voice before.

            A memory appeared in his mind.  He’d come to Sumeru City to visit Cyno, and they’d gone to Lambad’s Tavern, where they’d happened to run into Kaveh.  Cyno had left early, for some reason or other, but Tighnari and Kaveh had stayed longer, Kaveh had gotten a little too friendly with the wine, and when it came time to leave…

            “Sorry, Lambad.  I don’t know where he lives, and I’m not from the city…”

            “Oh, no worries.  Someone should be around to pick him up soon.”

            The memory skipped forward about half an hour.  He’d stayed a little while longer, to make sure Kaveh did actually make it home safely.

            Gray hair, with streaks of pale green.  Green eyes, red pupils.

            “Does he need his tab covered again?”

            He blinked.

            That’s ridiculous.  There’s no way –

            “He drank himself unconscious again, didn’t he?”

            Lord Idris can’t be –

            “Never mind.  I’ll just add it to next month’s rent.”

            Dendro-green eyes glanced in their direction.  The color was wrong, but the shape was familiar, and light seemed to reflect a little oddly, as if it was somehow distorted…

            He is.

            Tighnari blinked again as Lord Idris and his escort walked past, having finally gotten free of the crowd.  The Archon’s eyes flicked over to Cyno for just an instant.

            Cyno had gone completely still.  He did not turn around.

            Lord Idris seemed to pause, for just a fraction of a second – so briefly, Tighnari wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t simply imagined it.

            And then their Archon was walking away, silent but for the sound of his cloak fluttering gently in the breeze.

            Tighnari watched the hooded, cloaked figure leave.  He waited for the crowd to disperse, for there to be no one else within earshot – within his earshot – before turning back to Cyno and asking the question threatening to blast a hole in his mind if he kept it bottled up any longer than was absolutely necessary.

            “Lord Idris is Alhaitham, isn’t he?”

            Cyno somehow went even more still than before.  He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.

            “I don’t know.”

            You’re lying.

            Another memory, this one more recent.

            “Are you alright?  I didn’t know you were still at Pardis Dhyai after what happened that other day, I’d have brought Lumine to you if – ”

            “It’s fine, I’ve gone farther and faster with worse.  What about you?  The Doctor…”

            “I’m… I’m alright.  I didn’t actually encounter him; Lumine, Paimon, and… the Lesser Lord… did, but he’d apparently already escaped by the time I arrived on the scene.  If… if I’d just gotten there a little sooner…”

            “Don’t talk like that, we all know none of us could have done anything.  Lumine fought that ridiculous mechanical… ‘god’… thing… and he swatted her like an inflated Anemo Slime.”

            “I know.  It’s just…”

            “… Look, don’t focus on that for now.  Tell me what happened before that.  You can talk about that now, right?”

            “… right.  How much do you already know?”

            “That you were working with Lumine, Paimon, and Dehya; that it involved the Balladeer and the Doctor; and that – if I’m connecting the dots correctly – it had to do with the Akademiya building that ‘god’ to replace Lesser Lord Kusanali.”

            “I see.  That’s… most of the critical points, really.  There were a few others working with us – some other Eremites led by one of Dehya’s friends, a dancer from Zubayr Theater, and the Scribe – but otherwise – ”

            “Wait, the Scribe – you mean Kaveh’s – you mean Scribe Alhaitham?”

            “Yes.”

            “… sorry, I was just… he doesn’t seem like the sort of person who would get involved in this sort of thing.”

            “I understand.  It’s not something I expected, either; I actually thought he was with the Sages, initially.  But they were apparently trying to dispose of him, too.”

            “… ‘too’?”

            “Well… they weren’t trying to dispose of me, exactly, but… do you remember when I said I might have to leave the Akademiya?”

            “Yes, you mentioned that.”

            “Well, I did.  When I attempted to look into the corrupt Sages’ project, they blocked me from doing so; I exiled myself in order to continue my investigation independently.  I continued to observe their activities in secret, and it appeared that the Scribe was taking orders from them, but it turned out that he was only pretending to do so – he’d found their orders suspicious, done some investigating on his own, and found that they were actually attempting to deceive him into exposing himself to… the thing that was causing Irminsul’s sickness, and making all those other scholars go insane.”

            “… I imagine he wasn’t too happy about that.”

            “I can’t imagine anyone would be.”

            “Right… well, whatever his reasons were, I suppose we should just be glad he wasn’t with the Sages.  If even half the things Kaveh’s said of what he’s like when actually motivated are true…”

            “They are.  We’d have been in real trouble.”

            “… that’s… terrifying.”

            “I agree.  Fortunately, as far as I’ve observed, he really doesn’t seem to be the ambitious sort – I suppose Kaveh was right about that, too.  And… he seems a little more principled than Kaveh might give him credit for.  He’s very much a pragmatist, but I suppose everyone has lines they won’t cross…”

            Tighnari’s mind returned to the present.

            Cyno remained perfectly still, staring expressionlessly out over the city.

            The General Mahamatra was not one to trust easily.  He’d seen too many things in his life to approach anything or anyone without a certain degree of caution.  Scholars, especially, were always put under the figurative magnifying glass – understandable, given Cyno’s occupation, on top of his own… personal history.

            But on the flip side, that also meant Cyno’s trust, once earned, was not so easily broken.  Cyno didn’t trust just anyone, so those he did could be expected to have a reasonable explanation for the occasional misstep, for any uncharacteristically questionable behavior.

            Tighnari had known Cyno long enough to tell when the General Mahamatra considered someone trustworthy, and to what degree.  Cyno could be hard to read, between his iron self-control and the stone-faced professionalism of his “work mode”, but he still had his tells, just like anyone else.

            Something Kaveh had once said echoed in Tighnari’s memory.

            “Trust me, that guy serves no one but himself.  Or, well… I guess it’d be more fair to say ‘no one before himself’.  I mean, he’s self-serving and all, but it’s not like he intentionally pushes other people down for his own benefit, you know?  So you know, be careful of him, but… he’s not going to do anything really bad.  He’s not that kind of person.”

            Just two months ago, when they’d had that conversation in Gandharva Ville, Cyno had seemed to agree with that statement.

            Just two months ago, Cyno had been willing to trust the man who was now, apparently, the Dendro Archon.

            What had happened, since then, to so utterly change that fact?

***

            Three hours was, apparently, a much longer period of time than he’d anticipated.

            As a general rule, he avoided major public gatherings such as this as much as possible.  It was always too crowded, too loud even with his headphones on.  His mind inevitably drowned in the noise, unable to focus on anything long enough to think properly.

            The Sabzeruz Festival had always been the worst.  He had nothing against the holiday itself – he certainly saw no reason to try banning it – but there were always way too many people running around, shouting about this and that.  After the first (and only) time the Akademiya had assigned him to monitor that event (a waste of time; there was no reason they couldn’t just leave that task to the Matra, or even the Corps of Thirty), he’d made sure to have some other obligation planned well in advance of that date each year.

            Coronation Day was somehow even worse.

            It made no sense for there to be so many people out.  He didn’t understand why everyone was so interested in seeing the new Archon; he’d accepted that they were, hence his agreement to being present at all in the first place, and he knew it boosted morale, but the actual reason for all that still eluded him.

            (It had been one hour since he’d left the Sanctuary, the Akasha told him.)

            More people had gathered around him.  Three were talking over each other, all seemingly trying to ask him something or other, but only drowning each other (and the guard trying to ask them to give him some space) out.  Somewhere beyond the crowd, some merchants were calling out advertisements for their wares; they seemed to shout louder as he passed.

            (His head already hurt.)

***

            “I’m glad Coronation Day is seeing such good turnout!  It’s good that everyone’s trying to welcome the new Archon – with everything that happened, I was a little worried that people might not accept him.  I mean, of course what happened to Lord Kusanali was terrible, and I’m sad that there needed to be a new Archon, but that’s obviously not Lord Idris’s fault…”

            Candace nodded.  “It’s perfectly normal to grieve after a tragedy, but there is such a thing as taking it too far.  It’s certainly good that people seem to be trying not to repeat the mistakes of five hundred years ago, at least.”

            “Oh, absolutely.  I was especially worried with how people reacted to the announcement of the upcoming reforms to the Akasha – those haven’t been very popular, so it’s good to see that people are still willing to give the Lord a chance…”

            Candace nodded again as Dunyarzad continued to talk, briefly glancing away to admire the view through the window next to their table in Puspa Café.  It wasn’t often that she left Aaru Village; there were always threats to watch out for, after all, even with the relative peace that had come with the overthrow of the corrupt Sages and the cleansing of Irminsul.  The sandstorms and earthquakes that Forbidden Knowledge had apparently caused were no longer concerns, and the Village Keepers were all recovered and starting to move on with their lives, but fringe Eremite factions were an ever-present danger – a smaller one now, admittedly, with the discovery of the records stored in Kasala’s Tomb – as were roaming monsters and stray wildlife.  Candace’s job as the village guardian would never truly be done.

            That said, the ascension of a new Archon was hardly an everyday event, and there was no harm in taking a few days to make a polite visit to Sumeru City, even if the Dendro Archon was still technically not the desert’s god.  The Second Dendro Archon had been making a significant effort to improve relations with the desert in the weeks since he’d risen to power; he deserved her respect for that, at the very least, given the centuries of prejudice the people of the desert had endured under the Akademiya’s rule.

            That, and a certain other person had seemed to need the excuse to take a break, too.

            Candace glanced across the table, at its third occupant.

            Dehya stared into her drink, absently swirling yet another cube of sugar into the slowly-cooling liquid.

            The Flame-Mane had always hated bitter things, but ten cubes in a small coffee seemed a bit much, even for her.

            “… so I’m really glad the event seems to be going so well!  What about you, Dehya?”

            Dehya blinked, her attention having evidently only just now returned to the conversation.  “Uh, yeah.  Yeah, it’s… it’s great.”

            Dunyarzad stared at her friend for a moment, frowning slightly in confusion.  “Dehya, are you sure you’re alright?  You’ve been awfully out of it these past few days…”

            Dehya took a few moments to respond.  “… yeah, I’m fine.  I’m just… tired, I guess.”

            “You’ve certainly been working very hard these past few weeks,” Candace said slowly, carefully observing the mercenary for any reaction.  “With how much you’ve been helping with the effort to clear out the remaining Fatui in Sumeru.  How has that been going, by the way?”

            “… slowly.  There’s not a whole lot of them left, at this point, but the ones that are still around are really well-hidden.  And after all the time it takes just to find them, actually removing them is a huge pain, too…”

            “That sounds exhausting,” Dunyarzad said sympathetically.  “And how are all of your friends holding up?  I know Nilou’s back at the theater full-time, now that the Akasha’s back up, but are the others still working on the same things as before?”

            “Rahman and his guys are helping run security for the school they’re building in Aaru Village.  They seem to be pretty happy doing that.  Cyno… I haven’t really talked to him much in a while, but I think he’s back to doing his usual stuff as General Mahamatra.  Cleaning out the rest of the Fatui is grunt work, really – he’s got more important things going on, especially with all the guys who were working with the ex-Sages that still have to be dealt with.  And Lumine and Paimon are back to their usual thing, as far as I know.  I haven’t really seen them, either – they’re… kind of all over the place, all the time, so it’s hard to know where to find them.”

            “They were in Aaru Village for a commission a little while ago,” Candace noted.  She paused for a moment.  “I… might have forgotten to mention this to you, but they actually wanted to know if you were around.  But that was in the time you were away for most of a week straight, so nobody knew where you were by that point.”

            “Oh yeah… you did mention that.  I never got around to tracking them down, though… like I said, it’s kind of hard to find them – they can be in one place doing one thing, then the next thing you know they’re on the other side of Teyvat doing something else entirely.”

            Dunyarzad laughed a little at that.  “They must see a lot of interesting things, traveling around so much.  I wonder if everything that happened here was just normal, to them.”

            Dehya managed a slight smile, but the expression seemed… a little sad, to Candace’s eyes.  “I don’t know about that.  From what they’ve said, I think this all was… kind of nuts, even for them.  Even super-famous, crazy-strong adventurers don’t exactly run into giant mechanical pretend-gods every other day, you know?”

            Another laugh.  “That does seem like it’d be a little too ridiculous, when you put it that way.”  Dunyarzad paused.  “Oh, and what about that other friend you introduced me to?  The tall one, who gave you that packet of forms to apply for a job at the Akademiya?”

            Dehya fell silent.

            Candace eyed the mercenary for a moment.  She could only think of one person Dehya knew well enough to consider a friend, who was tall and affiliated with the Akademiya.  “Oh?  So Alhaitham was serious about that, was he?”

            Dunyarzad’s eyes lit up with recognition.  “Yes!  That was his name.  You said he was pretty high-ranking, right?”

            Candace gave an amused smile.  “I imagine he’s especially high-ranking, now, with all the recent events.  He and Cyno were two of the highest-ranking individuals to not be involved with the ex-Sages, from what I’ve heard.”

            “… yeah,” Dehya finally said.  “There isn’t really anyone higher now, aside from… the two current Sages.”

            “So what’s he doing now?” Dunyarzad asked.  “Oh!  If he’s really high-ranking, do you think he’s met Lord Idris?”

            “… yeah.  I guess… he probably has.”

            Candace frowned a little.

            Why did she hesitate so much when answering that question?

            “Though, now that I think about it… you and your friends have probably all met Lord Idris at this point, huh?  Or at least, most of you probably have, given how all of this happened in the first place.”  Dunyarzad paused.  “Have you met Lord Idris, Dehya?”

            No response.

            Candace and Dunyarzad both watched Dehya for a moment, but before either of them could say anything about her sudden silence, they were interrupted by a waitress stopping by their table.  “I’m terribly sorry to intrude on your conversation,” the waitress said, “but there’s been some trouble with your order.  We’re still sorting out a few inventory discrepancies from when the Akasha was down, and unexpectedly ran out of a couple of ingredients; someone has gone to buy more, but they might not be back for a little while…”

            “Oh no!” Dunyarzad said.  “We understand, it’s no problem.  Though… we were going to see the show at Zubayr Theater in a bit…”

            “We’re very sorry for the inconvenience.  If you’re in a hurry, would you like to change your order to not require the missing ingredients?”

            “Yes, that would be great!”  Dunyarzad paused and turned to the others.  “I think I’ll go work this out a bit closer to the kitchen, so no one has to run back and forth checking on different ingredients or anything like that.  Why don’t you two wait here, and I’ll get things figured out?”

            Candace nodded.  “That sounds alright to me.  Do you remember what we all ordered?”

            “Of course!”

            “Sounds good, then.  Dehya?”

            Dehya blinked.  She seemed to have zoned out again.  “What?  Oh… yeah, that’s fine.  Thanks, Dunyarzad.”

            “Of course, it’s no trouble at all.  I’ll be right back!”

            Candace watched as Dunyarzad left with the waitress.  When they were both out of earshot, she turned back to Dehya.  “Dehya, are you sure you’re alright?”

            Another blink.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I’m…”  She paused, then sighed.  “… sorry.  I guess I’m not being very convincing here, am I?”

            “Not particularly, no.  You’ve been… extremely active, lately, as far as taking on new commissions.  I’ve been a little concerned, honestly.  Are you sure you haven’t been pushing yourself too hard?”

            “… not really.  I… I didn’t want to worry Dunyarzad, but…”

            Candace didn’t need Dehya to finish that sentence out loud.

            You’ve never been able to fool me.

            She paused, considering how best to continue the conversation.  “I imagine you haven’t been doing that for no reason.  Did something happen?”  Another pause.  “Something else, that Dunyarzad and I don’t know of yet?”

            “… kind of, yeah.”

            “Do you want to talk about it?”

            Dehya was silent for a while.

            Then, “How would you apologize to someone, for calling them something really bad?”

            Candace blinked, then raised an eyebrow.  There was a lot left unsaid in that question, but she had a feeling she could already fill in most of the blanks.  “Whatever was said, it must really have been bad, for you to be acting this way now.”  The Flame-Mane was not, after all, known for holding back her words.  “Did you mean it, at the time?”

            “… no.   I… was upset, and talked too fast for my head to keep up.”

            “I see.”  She decided not to ask what the exact words had been; that seemed unnecessary, and would possibly cause Dehya to stop talking.  “I assume you weren’t just upset for no reason.  What did the other person do, to make you so angry?”

            Dehya groaned, and buried her face in her hands.  “See, that’s the thing.  I wasn’t actually mad at them; someone else made me angry, but we were… arguing, about… the first guy, and… the words just came out too fast.  And of course I didn’t mean it, but… it really was that bad, and… they didn’t actually say anything, but…”

            But they reacted in a way that suggested they were really hurt.  “And you don’t feel that you can face them directly, just yet?”

            “No!  I mean…”  Dehya paused and took a deep breath, seemingly to steady herself.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout.  It’s just…”

            “I understand.  You don’t know if they’re ready to speak with you again, and don’t want to accidentally make things worse by approaching them too soon.”  Or to wind up facing their anger, knowing that you have no possible defense.

            Some might call that cowardice, but Candace felt that judgment to be somewhat unfair.  Self-preservation was a perfectly valid reason to feel fear, after all, and for Dehya to feel that her words had been so unacceptable…

            They were both silent, for a minute.

            Somewhat surprisingly, it was Dehya who spoke again first.  “Uh, I guess I should probably mention… there’s… one other thing that’s kind of important.”

            “And what would that be?”

            A pause.

            Then, “How would you apologize to a god?”

            Candace blinked.

            Oh.

            Oh.

            That explained… a lot of things.

            It had not eluded Candace that Dehya had been… oddly reluctant, to come to Coronation Day.  She had mentioned, during one of her increasingly infrequent breaks in Aaru Village, that Dunyarzad had invited her to the event; Dehya had spoken of the other woman often enough for Candace to know how close of friends they were, so she’d been more than a little surprised when Dehya had said she probably wasn’t going to go.  That was how Candace had ended up coming to Coronation Day herself – she’d finally convinced Dehya to accept Dunyarzad’s invitation by suggesting that they go together, and that Dehya could introduce her two friends to each other.  The Flame-Mane had also seemed to grow increasingly subdued the closer they got to Sumeru City, with no apparent explanation.

            Candace gazed down at her drink.  Mismatched eyes stared back from the liquid’s slightly-reflective surface.

            Dehya’s first question was difficult to answer.

            Her second question was… even more difficult to answer.

            In the end, Candace was spared the need to answer immediately by Dunyarzad returning from resolving whatever issues there had been with their order.  Their conversation eventually drifted to lighter topics and, fortunately, Dehya seemed just a little more like her usual self when they left the café than she had before.

            That said, Candace had been thinking.

            Candace was the guardian of Aaru Village, feared by many a would-be threat.  She had not become so dreaded a foe by being unobservant.  From the day she’d begun training to take on her current role, she’d learned to watch, and listen, to identify and analyze any possible hint of unusual activity in or around the village.

            That skill had its more mundane uses, too.

            Candace had not missed the way Dehya hesitated to speak of one person in particular, or the odd way the mercenary answered certain questions about that person.  Adding those points to her reason for attempting to avoid Coronation Day gave Candace… some suspicions.

            As they walked to the Grand Bazaar, she decided to perform… a small experiment.

            “There sure are a lot of people around today, aren’t there?”

            “There are!” Dunyarzad said cheerfully.  “It’s great that things are so lively!”

            “I agree.  Though, I imagine there are also people who would prefer if things were… a little quieter, perhaps.”

            The corner of Dehya’s mouth twitched a little.  “I guess there are, yeah.”

            “Oh?  I think we might have the same person in mind.  I suspect he’s probably holed up alone with a book somewhere right now, avoiding all this noise.”

            Dehya’s expression went blank.

            “Y… yeah.  He… probably is.”

            Candace glanced to the side, at where a small crowd had gathered.  At the center of the crowd was a tall figure in a white, hooded cloak.

            No, he’s not.  He’s right there.

            Dehya looked at her for a moment.  Blue-and-yellow eyes traced her line of sight, froze, and quickly turned away.

            But you already knew that, didn’t you?

***

            (Two hours.)

            The city was so loud.  There were so many people.

            “Oh!  Look, it’s Lord Idris!”

            “Lord Idris, sir!  I have a question…!”

            “Lord Idris, could you…?”

            Everyone was shouting.  Why was everyone shouting?  Why was everyone trying to talk at the same time?  It would obviously be easier for him to actually tell what anyone was saying if they all just spoke one at a time, at a normal volume.

            “No crowding or shoving, please!  Everyone back up…”

            He was glad that he had an escort, at least.  This guard seemed to be one of the more competent ones, too, initial anxiety aside.

            “Excuse me, can I…?”

            “Lord Idris…!”

            Everything was so loud.  His ears hurt.

            “… are you alright, sir?”

            He blinked at the sudden question, at the guard’s oddly low voice.  He suddenly realized that he’d raised a hand to his ear at some point.

            (He’d been trying to turn on his headphones.)

            “Sir?”

            He lowered his hand, and forced himself to nod.

            (He needed to not do that again.)

            “… alright, then.  Let’s keep going.”

            It was so loud.

            (Two hours, and three minutes.)

***

            (Two hours, and five minutes.)

***

            “Oh!  Hey, come here… second…!”

            “Can you… dris…?  I need… r… room…”

            “Thanks, I… back…!”

***

            (Two hours, and ten minutes.)

***

            (Two hours, and thirty minutes.)

            He blinked.

            (When had so much time passed?)

            He looked around.

            (Where was he?  How had he gotten here?)

            “Hey guys, there’s the Archon!”

            “Lord Idris!  Lord Idris, I’d like to talk to you…!”

            (Where was his guard?)

            “Lord Idris…!”

            (It was… so loud…)

***

            “Hey, sorry I took so long to get back – you wouldn’t believe how many people there were – huh?  Oh, for… Hey.  Hey!”

            “Ugh, of course he fell asleep.  He always falls asleep, how do I keep for – wait, where’s Lord Idris?”

            “… you’ve got to be kidding me… right.  Well, there’s no knowing where he’s gone by now, and with all these people running around… guess I’d better head back to the Citadel, and get the guys there to alert the others.  Hopefully someone’s noticed he’s alone by now…”

***

            Nilou would not pretend that she understood everything that had happened recently.

            A lot had happened, recently.

            Some of it was easily understood.  For example, that a powerful member of the Fatui had attacked and incapacitated Lord Kusanali, and that Sumeru now had a new Archon as a result.  Some things were a little harder to understand, but still easy enough for her to figure out – that strange dream they’d all shared on the night of the Sabzeruz Festival, for instance.  The details of how that had all worked were a little beyond her, but she’d managed to get the main points from the others’ explanations, at least.  She understood that the Sages who’d been working with the Fatui had made everyone dream about the Sabzeruz Festival using the Akasha, that this was done to make the Akasha more powerful, and that this would have been very bad for everyone if it had continued for too long.

            Some things, she didn’t understand at all.  Why the Sages had imprisoned Lord Kusanali after the Cataclysm, for example – though to be fair, no one else really seemed to get it, either.  Everyone seemed to agree that in the end, there really wasn’t a particularly good reason for it, and that whole thing was just a really big mistake, best left in the past.  Then there was all the fuss people were making over the upcoming changes to the Akasha.  Nilou thought the reasons for those changes had made plenty of sense, even if she’d had to look up the meanings of some of the words in the Archon’s announcement, but she could barely go down the street without hearing someone complaining that they made no sense at all.  She’d heard a few different people explaining what they thought was wrong with the changes, but she couldn’t really follow their arguments; the one she kept hearing the most was something about it being disrespectful to Lord Kusanali, but wouldn’t Lord Kusanali, the God of Wisdom, want people to actually learn, rather than just depending on the Akasha to tell them everything?  Eventually, she’d just decided that it was fine if she didn’t understand, and left it at that.

            And then there was… whatever had happened, that day in the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

            One thing had been clear enough – Cyno didn’t trust the new Archon.  But Nilou thought that was a bit strange, considering everything that had happened before.  Those two had seemed to get along well enough when she’d first met them in the Grand Bazaar; she’d seen them talking to each other with no problems in those chaotic days that followed the attack on Lord Kusanali, when everyone was scrambling just to keep the city together and running; and the meeting in the Grand Sage’s office, just a few days before the meeting in the Sanctuary, had gone by with no problems, aside from the way it abruptly ended.  And then there was whatever had caused Dehya to suddenly turn pale and leave, which confused Nilou even more.

            Nilou wished she understood.  Everyone had seemed so unhappy afterward, when they’d all seemed… cautiously optimistic, as Sheikh Zubayr would sometimes say, at the meeting just a few days before.  Nilou didn’t like seeing people unhappy.

            But there was no explanation.  Lumine and Paimon knew nothing.  Dehya had seemingly vanished in the weeks that followed.  Nilou had seen Cyno around the city a few times, but every time she’d approached to maybe try talking to him, his stony expression had made her change her mind and leave after just a quick greeting.  Even knowing that he simply wasn’t particularly expressive in general, something about his face, something in his eyes, just seemed… off.

            That just left… Alhaitham.

            Nilou had thought about talking to him.  But… she had a feeling that there would be little point.  His words that day, in the Sanctuary, had made it clear that he knew nothing about what was going on with Cyno.  And something about his expression as Dehya had left had told Nilou that he would rather not talk about that subject.

            Nilou wished she understood.

            But there had been no time to dwell on that.

            The weeks that followed had been… busy, to say the least.  There’d been all the work to keep Sumeru City running in the absence of the Akasha, only made harder by the weight that seemed to hang from everyone’s shoulders.  The increasingly-common outbursts of frustration from people who suddenly had no idea what all the signs and flyers and other written things around them said, from people forced to wait while shopkeepers fumbled through calculations they’d only just learned how to do, from people who needed certain information but now had no idea where to find it.  The Archon’s plans to fix the situation had all seemed impossibly slow, even with the knowledge that there really weren’t any better options.

            And then the Akasha had gone up again.  And people were less tired, and frustrated, and everything was running smoothly again, but things still weren’t the best.  There were the planned changes to the Akasha that everyone was upset about, of course, and everyone was still worried that maybe the Fatui would be back, even with the regular announcements from the Matra and Corps of Thirty trying to assure everyone that the Fatui were being dealt with.  People were still mourning Lord Kusanali, how unfair it was that she’d been assassinated so suddenly, right after everyone had finally learned what had been done to her, right after she’d finally been set free.

            And people were still wondering what to make of the faceless new Archon.  Of the god who still only communicated through a proxy, and the occasional announcement on the Akasha.

            And then Coronation Day had been announced.

            Things had gotten even busier, then.  Planning had gone almost impossibly fast, and then there were a million different preparations to be made.  Zubayr Theater had immediately started on plans to put on a show for the event, and of course Nilou was immediately slated to perform, so then there had been choreography sessions, and rehearsals, and…

            And now it was Coronation Day.

            Nilou thought things were going well.  People seemed… happy.  She’d almost forgotten what it was like, to go out into the city and not immediately feel the weight of that awful day, several weeks ago now.  Her performance had gone better than she’d even hoped; the audience’s applause aside, she could barely remember the last time she’d been able to dance without having to worry about someone from the Akademiya showing up to give her trouble for some issue or other.  The sense of freedom was… incredible.

            She’d even caught a glimpse of Dehya in the audience, watching with Dunyarzad.  Nilou hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to them, unfortunately – they’d vanished into the crowd after the show was over, while she was too busy with all the usual post-show business to try and follow – but that was okay.  Dunyarzad would no doubt be back later, when most of the crowd had left, and Dehya would most likely come with her.  For now, Nilou was happy to help with cleanup, chat with the other members of the theater, and greet the occasional fan the others had deemed sensible enough to be allowed to meet her.

            It was as she was helping Farhad move one of the larger props that she noticed the white-cloaked figure standing in the middle of the Bazaar.

            Nilou blinked as Dendro-green eyes stared in her direction.

            “Ah, Nilou, is everything alright?”

            She blinked again as Farhad’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.  “Oh!  Yes, I’m sorry.  I just got distracted for a moment, that’s all.  Where did you need this again?”

            “No worries; there’s a lot going on today, isn’t there?  We just need to move this off the stage real quick, over in that corner should be fine…”

            When they’d set the prop down, and she looked back up, the cloaked figure was gone.

            Nilou stared at the spot where the figure had been.

            She knew who it was under that cloak, of course, even if she didn’t know when – or how – his eye color had changed.  There was no mistaking the… presence… he’d had, ever since he’d returned from Aaru Village after Jnagarbha Day – even if she’d only noticed the difference in hindsight, after the sudden end to that meeting in the Grand Sage’s office.

            Nilou could admit that she didn’t know Alhaitham all that well.  She’d only just met him the night before Jnagarbha Day, after all.  But she’d interacted with him enough times to pick up on a few things.

            He disliked noise.

            He generally preferred to be alone.

            He was very, very observant.

            Nilou’s mind wandered back to those Dendro-green eyes.  The blank, slightly wide-eyed stare that had somehow seemed to see nothing at all.

            She was suddenly very, very worried.

***

            (Three hours.)

            Noise.

            There was so much noise.

            (Guard.  He needed to find a guard.)

            Pots clanged.  A dog barked.

            (Where was he?  He couldn’t recognize anything.)

            There were people everywhere.

            (There was a sign.  Read.)

            Shouting.

            (The words all ran together.  He couldn’t read them.)

            More shouting.  Jars clanking together.

            So much noise.

            (Three hours.)

***

            “Nilou, there you are!”

            “Huh?  Oh, Lumine, Paimon!  Were you looking for me?”

            “Um, well, sort of?  Sheikh Zubayr was looking for you, actually – he asked us to let you know if we ran into you.”

            “Oh… I see.  I… I guess I’ll head back, then.”

            “… were you in the middle of something?”

            “Um, sort of… actually, I was looking for someone, too…”

            “Really?  Who were you looking for?  Maybe we can help with that, too!”

            “Um… maybe we shouldn’t talk about it with so many people around…”

            “… huh?”

***

            (Three hours, and eight minutes.)

***

            (Three hours, and thirteen minutes.)

***

            (Three hours, and twenty-four minutes.)

***

            (Three hours, and thirty minutes.)

            Noise.

            (Three hours, and thirty minutes.)

            Noise, noise.

            (Three hours, and thirty minutes.)

            Noise, noise, noise –

            “Waaahhh!”

            He blinked.

            (Three hours, and thirty – )

            A tiny hand tugged on the shoulder of his cloak.

            (Three hours, and – )

            A sniffle.

            (Three hours – )

            “Mr. Archon, can you help Paimon?”

            (Three – )

            He blinked again.

            He turned towards the voice.

            Midnight-blue eyes stared back at him.

            “Paimon was here with a friend, but Paimon looked away for a second, and then she was gone!  Now Paimon can’t find her anywhere!”

            He felt himself nod.

            “Um, Paimon’s friend said we should meet at the place written on this paper, but Paimon doesn’t recognize it…”

            She shoved a piece of paper into his hand.

            He looked.

            There was no writing on the paper.  Just a simple drawing.

            A tree, and an arrow pointing up.

            “Do you know where this is, Mr. Archon?”

            He nodded again.

            “Oh, good!  Paimon was worried nobody would know!  Um, can you take Paimon there?  Paimon isn’t so good with directions…”

            She grabbed and pulled on his cloak, obviously leading him forward.

            He followed.

            She looked up, and waved at something with her free hand.

            A flash of golden hair vanished around a corner.

***

            Lumine met them in front of the ornate double doors.

            The doors were already open.  He stumbled through them.

            They closed with a thud.

            Silence.

            Paimon led him to the central pedestal.

            He sat down, pulled down his hood, and let the color-changing Dendro aura fall away.

            He summoned his headphones into shaking hands, and put them on.

            Lumine slowly moved into his line of sight.

            “Are you okay?” she mouthed.

            Alhaitham took a deep, shuddering breath, and nodded.

Chapter Text

            Lumine and Paimon were reporting to Katheryne on that day’s commissions when the message came.

            It had been a few days since Coronation Day.  Things seemed to be going alright; Sumeru City had mostly gone back to normal, though some of the festive atmosphere still lingered, in the form of flyers that hadn’t been taken down yet, and various businesses advertising discounts on holiday-themed products that hadn’t yet sold out.

            The Archon himself had seemed to be doing… better, at least, when they’d stopped by his office the day after the event, to report on an Akademiya commission with some… unusual details.  The Bimarstan had needed an emergency resupply of certain medicinal ingredients, due to a previously-unnoticed inventory discrepancy from the Akasha shutdown, combined with an unusual number of patients coming in with complaints of abnormal drowsiness.  Alhaitham had seemed a little more tired than normal, but he’d taken their report with his usual efficiency, other than a brief delay from having misplaced the regular spending report that had been sent for filing and archival that morning.

            Lumine hadn’t commented on the unusually-large pile of books occupying a third of his desk, nor had Paimon reacted to the particularly blunt remark on her speaking volume.

            In any case, nothing of particular note had happened since then.  In fact, things had been so utterly normal, the normalcy itself was almost noteworthy.

            As such, it was with a slight start that Lumine received the message the Akasha suddenly implanted into her mind.

            [Report to Scribe’s office immediately]

            Paimon blinked, her Akasha Terminal flickering as well.  She looked up, and Lumine immediately knew from her expression that they were thinking the same thing.

            Something’s not right.

***

            Unusually, Cyno was waiting beside the door to the Scribe’s office.

            Paimon blinked, then waved.  “Cyno!  What are you doing here?”

            The General Mahamatra looked up.  “Oh.  Hello Lumine, Paimon.  I’m here to deliver this week’s Matra activity report; the person normally responsible for the task is… indisposed, at the moment.”  He paused, and looked over at the closed door.  “Unfortunately, the Scribe doesn’t seem to be in at the moment.  You might want to come back later, if you were looking for him.”

            Paimon blinked again.  “He’s not?  That’s… kind of strange.  Are you sure?”

            Cyno looked back over at her.  “I knocked multiple times, and received no response.  I have to assume he isn’t here.”

            Lumine glanced at the door.  It was bare, aside from the sign listing the Scribe’s official work hours.

            She frowned.

            Alhaitham never leaves without putting up his “out of office” sign.

            “Um, maybe he had his headphones on, and didn’t hear you?” Paimon suggested.  “We just got a message on the Akasha telling us to come here…”

            Cyno stared for a moment, causing the fairy to fidget a little.  “… I see.”

            “Maybe… we should just try the door,” Lumine said slowly.  She reached out and carefully turned the doorknob.

            The door opened.

            She forced herself to ignore the brief flare of Electro.

            Lumine paused, just in case the Scribe wanted to protest their intrusion, then pushed the door the rest of the way open when no objection came.  “Alhaitham?  It’s Lumine and Paimon, and Cyno’s here, too.  You needed to see – ”

            She froze mid-sentence as her eyes fell on the office’s occupant.

            Alhaitham was sitting slumped over in a corner, eyes squeezed shut in obvious pain.

            “Wha – Alhaitham?!”  Paimon flew into the office, eyes wide.  “Alhaitham!  Are you okay?!  What happened?!”

            “Don’t touch anything,” Cyno said sharply, immediately on alert.  His eyes flicked briefly around the room.  “There… doesn’t seem to have been an intruder.  You two, check on the Scribe while I examine the window.”

            Lumine nodded absently as she ran over to Alhaitham, being careful not to step on the documents scattered haphazardly on the floor beside him.  He was breathing heavily, and visibly sweating.  The air around him seemed to buzz with Dendro.

            A horrible thought suddenly occurred to her.  She glanced down for a moment.

            There was no hole in his chest.

            Thank goodness.

            “No one came in through the window,” Cyno reported from behind her, “and there are no signs of a struggle.  It doesn’t appear that he was attacked, so…”

            “What happened to him, then?”  Paimon fidgeted anxiously.  “Do you think he’s sick?  Can he even get sick?”

            “I’m not sure,” Lumine said slowly, “though if…”

            Paimon blinked as her voice trailed off.  “Lumine?  What’s wrong?”

            “Hold on, I think he’s saying something.”

            She paused, and leaned closer to listen.

            Alhaitham shuddered.  His voice was barely audible.

            “… the Gnosis hurts…”

***

            His chest was on fire.

            The pain had started suddenly, with little warning – a dull ache in his chest, right around the heart, accompanied by a recurring pulse of Dendro that could only indicate some issue with the Gnosis.  Alhaitham hadn’t been overly concerned, at first; over the last several weeks, he’d quickly learned that having a magical artifact physically inside his body was not always the most comfortable thing, especially when said artifact tended to demand his attention by manipulating elemental energy.  He’d figured the Gnosis was probably just alerting him to yet another new function that he somehow hadn’t already stumbled upon.

            It was when he’d tried to eject the Gnosis, and couldn’t, that he’d realized something was very, very wrong.

            The pain had quickly grown overwhelming from there.  He’d barely managed to sit down before his legs would have given out on their own, and he’d have wound up meeting the floor in a far less controlled manner.  Dendro poured from the Gnosis, painfully hot despite the obvious lack of Pyro – a fire with no flames, burning with no real heat.

            He wasn’t sure whether it was good or bad luck that the person who’d knocked on his door had known better than to enter without permission.  On the one hand, he didn’t really have a believable explanation for his present condition that didn’t involve his recent… promotion… so it was good that no one who didn’t already know had barged in on him.

            On the other hand, being stuck in his office alone, barely conscious enough to think, much less speak, was hardly an enjoyable experience.

            Thankfully, he had been conscious enough to recall that he had Akasha communication privileges, and to know who to contact for the best chance of a quick resolution to… whatever problem this was.

            Even more thankfully, that person had already been connected to an Akasha Terminal.

            (Thank goodness her commissions had been in Sumeru that day.)

            Unfortunately, even Lumine could only get into contact with any specific individual so quickly, so for now, there was nothing to do but wait.  That said, he was at least not completely alone anymore – Cyno was back outside the door, making sure no one else came in, and Paimon had stayed to keep an eye on things inside.

            (The fairy had objected vehemently to being left behind, but reluctantly acquiesced when Lumine glanced pointedly in Cyno’s direction.  The General Mahamatra was unlikely to actually attempt anything questionable… but with how close a call they’d had, back in the Sanctuary of Surasthana, the additional precaution was probably justified.)

            Alhaitham forced himself to breathe as the Gnosis flared with Dendro.  He wasn’t sure what had caused the artifact to seemingly turn on its own host all of a sudden; he just hoped there was a solution, and that it was nothing difficult.  He forced himself to focus on Paimon sitting on his desk, repeatedly crumpling and uncrumpling a sheet of paper; it wasn’t much of a distraction, but he’d take what he could get.

            (He’d never been so glad that anyone could fidget so loudly.)

            Finally, after what felt like half the day (but he knew was actually less than an hour), the door opened again.

            Paimon looked up from the wad of paper in her hands, eyes lighting up as Lumine came back into the room, closing the door behind her.  “Lumine, you’re back!  Paimon was so worried, you were gone for – wait, no, never mind that for now!  Did you find any of them?”

            Lumine started to say something, but she was interrupted by another, slightly muffled voice.  “She sure did, ehe!”

            Her scarf shifted slightly, and a tiny, blue-and-white thing popped out.

            Paimon blinked as the wind sprite changed into human form with a pop of Anemo.  “Wha – Tone-Deaf Bard?  Um, well, you do have more free time than… wait, where’s Cyno?”

            “The guy with the jackal hat?” Venti asked, oddly cheerful as usual.  “He had to go, there was a disturbance at Matra headquarters.  So anyway, Lumine said there’s some kind of problem with the Dendro Gnosis?”

            (That was… a very casual way to report that there was a problem at Matra headquarters big enough to require the General Mahamatra’s attention, at a time like this.)

            Alhaitham tried to respond, but the Gnosis chose that moment to let out another pulse of energy, causing him to gasp in pain.  He leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily as his chest seemed to burn from the inside out.

            “Okay, yeah, that definitely looks like a problem.”  Venti moved a bit closer, expression shifting to something slightly more appropriate for the situation.  “Yeah, the Gnosis is definitely not happy right now – that’s way too much elemental energy coming out at once, for his current power level.  So anyway, the good news is, he’s not sick.”

            “That’s good news?” Paimon asked, sounding somewhat incredulous.  “Paimon would think being sick would be less of a problem than, well, a god-Vision going crazy…”

            “Well, as you might guess, gods don’t really get sick the same way mortals do.  When a god gets sick, it’s usually because of some kind of external problem associated with them, and that tends to be a big deal.  For the Dendro Archon, the problem would most likely be something to do with Irminsul.”

            Paimon blinked, eyes suddenly wide.  “Oh, um, yeah, that would be bad.  We definitely don’t need anything like Forbidden Knowledge going around again…”  She paused.  “But… in that case, whatever the Gnosis is doing, how do we make it stop?”

            “Oh, that’s easy.”  Venti’s voice and expression turned cheerful again.  “At least in this case, it is.  In fact, it looks like the Gnosis has already pretty much calmed down.  How do you feel, Alhaitham?”

            Alhaitham blinked as he suddenly realized that the pain in his chest had, in fact, subsided while the others were talking.  “I… what?”

            “Great!  But, uh, now for the bad news.  Jackal guy really doesn’t like you.”

            Paimon blinked.  “Wait – what – you mean Cyno was – ?”

            “That’s… what it looks like,” Lumine said slowly.  “Venti explained it to me on our way back; the Gnoses grant power to their wielders based on their people’s worship and prayers, but they react to negative opinions, too.  That’s what was causing the energy overflow, and why the Gnosis couldn’t be ejected.”

            “Really?  But – but how is the Archon supposed to get anything done, then?  If any time anyone thinks anything bad about them…!”

            “Well, it’s balanced by the positive effect of worship and prayer,” Venti explained.  “So if an Archon is well-liked, that creates a sort of… buffer, against the occasional negative opinion.  But really strong opinions can get past that buffer, and the effect is increased if the people with those opinions are close by.  It’s also a bigger problem if there are a lot of people with negative opinions, obviously; for example, I had some issues when Mondstadt’s nobility was acting up a while back, and I think Makoto had trouble visiting Watatsumi Island for a while, after their god tried to invade the Shogunate’s side of Inazuma, and got killed for it.”

            (He assumed, based on context, that “Makoto” was the first Raiden Shogun.)

            “W-well… okay, Paimon guesses that makes sense.  And yeah, Cyno doesn’t really like Alhaitham very much, but they’ve been around each other before without any problems…”

            “Was that before or after the Gnosis finished attuning?”

            Alhaitham blinked.  “The last time was… Coronation Day, a few days ago.  But that wasn’t for very long.”

            (And now that he thought about it… he had gotten a strange feeling, for a moment, as he passed Cyno in front of the Akademiya.  But that feeling had gone away so quickly, he’d thought nothing of it; if he’d taken longer to walk away…)

            “Coronation – oh yeah, that’s the holiday you mentioned having to plan a while ago.  The one for the new Archon, right?”

            “… right…”

            (Right.  That would count as worship, so the effect of any negative opinions on that day would have been significantly reduced.)

            “The last time before that, then?” Venti prompted.

            “That would have been…”  Alhaitham paused.  “Cyno was going back and forth between Sumeru City and Port Ormos, for a while, after the Akasha was restored.  The Matra had some… recordkeeping problems, during the shutdown; resolving those problems occupied most of his time for the weeks leading up to Coronation Day.”

            “So he wasn’t around here much in that time, I take it?  Meanwhile, you’re the Scribe and Archon’s proxy, so you’re at the Akademiya pretty much constantly.”

            “… correct.”

            “And how’s public opinion been, lately?”

            “It’s…”

            (The Akasha reforms were… unpopular, to say the least.  And while his presence at Coronation Day had helped, somewhat, most people were still unsure of what to make of the new Archon, given his tendency to hide behind a proxy and the Akasha, and how little he’d spoken the one time he had appeared in person.)

            Alhaitham buried his face in his hands.

            Venti smiled, but his expression was sad.  “There’s a reason Celestia made it hard to pass down the Gnoses.  If it was easy, no Archon would make it through their first century.”

            (… how had Lord Kusanali made it through five centuries, abandoned and alone in the Sanctuary, if this was how the Gnosis reacted to low public approval?)

            Alhaitham lowered his hands.  “Right.  I’ll have to figure out what to do about – ”

            Dendro flared.

            Paimon gasped as he doubled over in pain.  “Alhaitham!  It’s happening again?”

            Venti turned to look at the closed door.  “Looks like he’s back.  I can see why he’s the one in charge; I figured it’d take at least an hour just to get things under control.”

            “Should we… do something?” Paimon asked quietly.  “He was just here to hand in some kind of Matra report, right?  Why don’t we go get that from him and – ”

            “No.”  Alhaitham willed himself to speak through the pain.  “I’ll – I’ll deal with him.”

            Paimon blinked.  “Huh?  Alhaitham – but – ”

            He forced himself to his feet, bracing himself against the wall as the Gnosis flared again.  He took a deep breath to try and steady himself, and stood up as straight as he could manage.  “I said… I’ll deal with him.”

            (He’d clearly let this go on for too long as it was.)

            Paimon seemed to want to protest, but Lumine grabbed the fairy’s hand, and shook her head.  Paimon glanced at her, still looking unsure, but remained silent.

            Alhaitham stumbled over to the door.  There was a slight burst of Anemo behind him, followed by the sound of a drawer opening and closing, and he knew without looking that Venti was now suitably hidden from view.

            Cyno turned and blinked as the door opened.  “Scribe.  Has the problem been resolved?”

            “Don’t worry about it.”  Alhaitham shut the door, ignoring the look of alarm that flashed across Paimon’s face.  “The others said you were here to – ”  Another flare of Dendro.  It was a good thing he hadn’t let go of the doorknob.  “ – you were here to turn in a Matra report?”

            (The pain was a little more manageable now; he decided not to question why.  He just needed to stay coherent and on his feet long enough to finish this conversation.)

            Cyno eyed him for a moment before responding.  “Yes.”  He pulled a file folder from the submissions rack on the wall; Alhaitham guessed he’d left it there while he went to deal with… whatever had been going on at Matra headquarters.  “Here’s the weekly Matra activity report.  The one normally responsible for this is presently unavailable; it is not known if or when he will return to work, so you may see someone different each week for some time.”

            “I see.”  Alhaitham took the folder, and carefully removed his hand from the doorknob so that he could go through the report’s contents.  “If I recall correctly, he’s currently on indefinite leave due to involvement in – ”  Pain.  He shuddered, but managed not to react otherwise.  “ – in the Matra recordkeeping case?”

            “That’s correct.”  Cyno paused, red, slit-pupiled eyes scanning over the taller man, as if searching for something.  “We’re still looking into the actual extent of his involvement, so his exact punishment is still undetermined.”

            “Not a problem.”  Alhaitham took a moment to finish skimming over the report.  “Was there anything else of particular note this week?”

            “Not much.  There was a larger-than-usual number of public disorder reports on the night of Coronation Day, but that’s only to be expected from any major holiday.  There was an unusual minor case a couple nights ago – a sleepwalker wandered out of the city, got in some trouble, and had to be rescued.  And there’ve been some rumors of a Canned Knowledge smuggling ring, but we’re still looking into those.  Canned Knowledge smuggling is hardly new, after all.”

            “I see.”  He paused to consider how to phrase his last question.  “So, should I expect you to start bringing the weekly report on a regular basis again?”

            Cyno stiffened slightly.  He looked Alhaitham square in the eye.

            The Gnosis flared.  Alhaitham somehow managed to stay standing on his own, but one knee twitched dangerously, and he had to force himself to keep his breathing steady.  Dark fog seemed to creep along the edges of his vision.

            “Is that an order?” Cyno asked slowly.  His voice had gone slightly cold.

            (Pain.)

            “I meant it more as a suggestion.  I’m aware that you were responsible for handling the weekly report before the recent… administrative changes, and your verbal report just now was much better than the ones I’ve been receiving for the past several weeks.  The Archon has been rather irritated by the steadily-increasing ratio of words to meaningful content, and the repeated omission of certain critical details.”

            Cyno was silent for a few seconds.  He didn’t break eye contact.

            (More pain.)

            Then, finally, “I see.  I’ll be back next week, then.”

            (The pain lessened.)

            He turned, and left.

            Alhaitham waited a few seconds after the General Mahamatra had disappeared around the corner, before opening the door and stepping back into his office.

            He barely managed to close the door before his legs finally buckled.

            A sudden gust of wind blew in out of nowhere, pressing him against the wall so that he slid to the floor, rather than falling flat on his face.  A moment later, Venti, now human again, was crouched beside him, gripping his shoulder with surprising force.

            (Dimly, he remembered that Venti, for all his antics and apparent youth, was the second-eldest surviving Archon.)

            “Breathe,” the older god said.  His voice was calm, but firm.

            Alhaitham forced himself to do as instructed.  His breath seemed unbearably hot, heavy with residual Dendro, but Anemo-infused air poured into his lungs, forcing the phantom heat out; breathing was easier, after that.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lumine crack the door open and reach outside for a moment, before closing it again, and turning the lock.

            “Focus.”

            He did, somehow already knowing what he was being told to focus on.

            Two fingers pressed into his solar plexus.

            The Gnosis bounced off the side of Venti’s hand, rolled off of Alhaitham’s leg, and fell to the floor with a soft clink.

            “Are you alright?”

            Alhaitham inhaled, exhaled, and nodded.

            “Good.”  The other Archon looked up at the door again.  “Now, I’m not normally one to tell anyone what to do, but… are you really sure about this?”

            Alhaitham blinked.

            (Had they heard everything?)

            Venti looked back at him and shrugged, evidently seeing the unvoiced question in his expression.  “Sound is just vibrations passing through a medium.  Generally, that medium is air.”

            (… right.  There was a reason Mondstadt was informally known, to some, as the city of wine and song.)

            Alhaitham took another breath before responding.  “It’s merely the logical approach.  As you noted, Cyno is the General Mahamatra for a reason; he is also far more respected than I am, at least at this point in time.  Attempting to remove him from his position would be stupid and impractical, in every sense – replacing him would be difficult, at best, and the probable backlash would likely only make the situation worse.  And there’s only so much I can do to avoid working with him, given his high rank.  Running from the problem will solve nothing.”

            “But… how does this solve anything, either?” Paimon asked.  “If it hurts you this much just to be near him…”

            “It’s obvious that he considers me untrustworthy, and trust goes both ways.  The more I attempt to hide from him, the more it will appear that I distrust him, and the more he will distrust me in turn.  Again, solving nothing.  This approach may not necessarily help, but it does at least have some chance of yielding some benefit… or at least keeping the situation from deteriorating further, until a better solution can be found.”

            “Well… if you say so.  Paimon still isn’t sure about this, though…”

            Alhaitham paused to check where the Gnosis had fallen.  Conveniently, it had rolled right into his hand.

            “It’ll get easier.”

            His hand shook as he picked the Gnosis back up, and let it return to him.

            (At least, he hoped it would.)

***

            Political reforms were, at least, not so physically exhausting to work on.

            They were, however, far less straightforward to figure out.

            On paper, preventing continued misuse of the Akasha was simple enough.  The literacy and math course projects were making good progress; resources had been allocated, general course outlines had been written up, and the Akademiya was in the process of selecting faculty members to prepare more detailed lesson plans and teach the actual classes.  The timing of the eventual discontinuation of direct neural insertion of information would be figured out later – there obviously needed to be concrete data on how quickly the literacy rate increased before that decision could be made – which would hopefully allow time for the general public to get used to the idea.  Someone had brought up the fact that having Akasha Terminals present information solely through their holographic displays would render them unusable by the visually impaired, but that wouldn’t be such a difficult issue to solve; it would be simple enough to set up a system for allowing specific individuals access to the neural insertion function, though figuring out how to prevent abuse of that system would possibly take a little more work.

            On the academic side of things, research source requirements had already been changed.  The Akasha was no longer considered a valid source; citations had to be for the original source of whatever information had been gathered and used, whether that be a book, a prior research paper, or something else.  That alone didn’t solve the problem, of course – there was nothing to stop anyone from simply asking the Akasha where any given piece of information had come from, and citing the stated source accordingly – but this, too, was already being dealt with.  A committee had been assembled to go through the House of Daena and the Akademiya’s physical archives, and compile a list of every physical source available.  Those sources would then be flagged within the Akasha, preventing direct access to their contents by most users.  If any of the aforementioned sources came up in an Akasha search, the search results would only show their titles and locations, forcing the user to find and read the actual physical sources, though the information would remain in the Akasha, just in case the original sources were somehow lost.  This would obviously take some time to set up, but that was fine.

            Some information would remain directly accessible – literature that no longer existed in a physical form, for instance.  Ideally, that material would eventually be transcribed back onto paper, but that was something to be done at a much later date, after the list of existing physical sources was complete.  Then there was basic everyday knowledge – answers to questions like “when does Lambad’s Tavern close tonight?”, “how much do a dozen eggs cost at the general goods store?”, or “what is the average weight of a Sumpter Beast?”  There was no harm in letting people have direct access to that sort of information; convenience wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, after all, so long as it didn’t grow out of control.

            All of this seemed logical, and easy enough to comprehend.  Alhaitham had specifically run the explanation past Paimon to make sure it was easily understandable; the fairy struggled with more advanced vocabulary and tended to need things spelled out to her fairly explicitly, but she wasn’t stupid (that she had successfully taught Lumine to speak Teyvat Common in just a few months, completely from scratch, was evidence enough of that), making her an excellent test audience for this sort of thing.  She also had no reservations about asking any questions that came to mind, so Alhaitham knew she wasn’t just putting on the “smile and nod” act so many of the Akademiya’s “scholars” would turn to at the slightest thought that they should already know something they didn’t.

            There was no reason for there to still be as much resistance to the reforms as there was.

            The good news was, there wasn’t much in the way of… overt… resistance; a few people had been caught trying to vandalize the contents of the House of Daena in various ways, and an Akademiya volunteer handing out flyers and enrollment forms for the literacy and math classes had received a… sudden delivery of assorted produce… but the Matra and Corps of Thirty had dealt with those incidents easily enough.  Minor annoyances, nothing more.

            The bad news was, there was a lot of more subtle resistance.

            Attempts to promote the literacy and math courses were running into unexpected material shortages.  Posters mysteriously vanished from walls and message boards overnight; stacks of flyers and enrollment forms got blown away on windless days, or ruined in supposed “accidents” – that was, when they didn’t just abruptly go missing after the volunteers handing them out had to set them down and look away for whatever reason.  In the Akademiya, a suspiciously large number of essays, project proposals, and other such things had gotten turned in the day before the change to the source requirements.  People also seemed to be having a strangely hard time remembering that the change had happened, or figuring out how to cite a source that wasn’t the Akasha, or even just understanding that no, the new rule did not have exceptions.  And the House of Daena had reported a brief but sudden spike in the number of books being reported “lost”.  Most of the “lost” books were then “found” in short order, once it was stated that there was a replacement fee – only to still never be returned, for various bizarre reasons.

            There was no reason for any of this to be so difficult.

            Or rather, there should have been no reason for any of this to be so difficult.

            Reality, unfortunately, was hardly so simple.

            Alhaitham knew, at this point, what the problem ultimately was; that morning’s events had only driven it in.  Sumeru’s people still did not fully trust their new Archon.  For one thing, the circumstances of the still-recent power transition were hardly ideal.  Lord Kusanali had been Sumeru’s god for millennia, spent the last five centuries wrongfully imprisoned by the people who should have been her closest allies, and finally been restored to her rightful place after her present jailors had gotten too arrogant and committed the ultimate act of treason… only to then be effectively murdered by the hostile foreign power that her blasphemous “Sages” had chosen to follow in her place, not even two days later.

            Her replacement, in contrast, was basically some random nobody.

            (That, to be fair, was by his own choice.  He hadn’t considered the possibility that he might accidentally become the Archon.)

            The first months of the new Archon’s reign had been… nothing notable, for the most part.  People were mostly indifferent to his policies – relations with the desert hadn’t progressed far enough for people in the rainforest to care much just yet, and the removal of the Akademiya’s more… stringent… laws, while certainly appreciated, did not significantly affect the daily lives of most people, at least not immediately.

            The exception, of course, was the Akasha reforms.  Those were highly unpopular.

            You could lead a Sumpter Beast to water, but you couldn’t make it drink.

            Now, logically speaking, that shouldn’t have been a problem.  The Archons were, after all, the gods of their nations, their power and authority granted by Celestia itself.  In theory, the people would trust their god to lead, unless there was clear evidence that said god was unfit to do so, whether that be a result of malice or incompetence.

            In practice, if Lord Kusanali’s fate had been any indication, Celestia’s sanction… didn’t necessarily count for much.

            The Second Dendro Archon… barely existed at this point, really.  He only communicated through a proxy, and sometimes the Akasha.  He’d only appeared in public once – and even then, he’d barely spoken, and no one had ever seen his face.

            He had next to no presence, except through his political activity.

            It was only natural that the people would feel free to ignore the Archon’s authority when it suited them, when the Archon was barely using that authority in the first place.

            It was… a difficult position to be in.

            The problem was, of course, that Alhaitham didn’t want to be Archon.  He didn’t want to be a nation’s ruler, much less its god.  He had accepted the position for the time being, given that the Gnosis had chosen him and Sumeru had desperately needed someone to be in charge, but he fully intended for that to be a temporary arrangement.  That was why he’d distanced himself from the throne, presenting himself as merely the Archon’s proxy.  It was why he was reluctant to assert his authority as Archon; the more he did so, the more people saw the Archon as the one in charge, the harder it would eventually be to leave.

            On the other hand, he’d never be able to leave, if nothing got done.  Not without someone to take his place.

            (This would be so much easier, if only there was someone to take his place.)

            That said, there was… something… he could do.

            It had been suggested, by the current Sages, that the Archon’s orders would carry more weight if they were communicated by someone in a known position of authority.  Theoretically, the Archon’s proxy was that person.  The title should have spoken for itself; the Archon held ultimate authority, so the person he’d chosen to act as his representative should naturally have been recognized as, effectively, the second most powerful individual in Sumeru.

            In practice, though, that wasn’t really the case.  The problem was, “Archon’s proxy” wasn’t actually an official title.  It was also not a position that had ever existed before.  As such, despite having explicit authorization to speak in the Archon’s stead, the proxy remained more closely associated with his formal position as an employee of the Akademiya – and the Scribe, while certainly high-ranking, ultimately held little real power.

            Of course, that problem could be solved with relative ease.  All the Archon had to do was give his proxy a formal position that did have real power.

            As it so happened, there were many such positions open at the moment.

            Notably, four of the Akademiya’s Darshans still needed a new Sage.  Conveniently, that included Haravatat, the Darshan the Archon’s proxy had graduated from.

            Additionally, the Akademiya was also still in need of a new Grand Sage.

            The Archon held ultimate authority.  If he wanted a particular person to have a particular job, it was trivial to make that so.  And with the Akademiya’s leadership still in pieces following the recent coup, the decision was unlikely to face any significant resistance – even if it hadn’t already been suggested by multiple other people.

            The Archon could make his proxy the new Grand Sage.

            Alhaitham sat at his desk, considering his options.

            The Sages had made this suggestion several times, over the last few weeks.  It was the logical action to take, they’d argued.

            (He didn’t want to be Grand Sage.)

            The Grand Sage was known to be Sumeru’s second highest authority, only after the Archon.  The people would not be able to ignore him the way they could casually dismiss the words of a mere Scribe.

            (He didn’t want to be Grand Sage.)

            It was little more than a formality, really.  It wasn’t as if he wasn’t already doing all the work that the Grand Sage normally would, given the absence of anyone else who could handle those responsibilities.

            (He didn’t want – )

            It didn’t have to be permanent.  The new procedures for selecting Sages and for selecting a new Grand Sage were nearly finalized; the selection process would likely begin within the next week or two.  It would only be a matter of time before he could return to his current station.

            (He didn’t – )

            People would not simply ignore the Archon’s proxy, when he was a former Grand Sage.

            (He – )

            Alhaitham lowered his face into one hand.

            (It made too much sense.)

            He took a deep breath, lowered his hand, and looked up at the familiar walls of his office.

            (… he’d wait, and see if the Sages brought it up again.)

***

            “Do you want all the bookcases covered up, too?”

            “Yes, please.”

            Alhaitham watched as Paimon lifted a cloth sheet from the floor, draped it over a nearby bookcase, and started working with Lumine to make sure all the shelves were fully covered.

            He turned back to his desk, and the box he was filling with the supplies that would need to be taken to his new office.

            (The Akademiya was still too understaffed to assign someone to act as temporary Scribe.  No one would be using this room for some time – likely not until he himself returned, however long from now that would be.)

            “Paimon, watch your head – ”

            “Ow!  Whoops… huh?  Oh no, Lumine!  You turned into a ghost…!”

            (He wondered if fate was still laughing.)

***

            It was one thing to know that, eventually, the investigation into the former Sages would be concluded; to know that said former Sages would then stand trial, and finally be punished for their crimes against Sumeru and its first Archon.

            It was another thing to see the trial records on the Grand Sage’s desk – his­ desk – and realize that he would have to decide how those former Sages were to be punished.

            And it was yet another thing, to see the signature and seal on the final page, and know who was waiting for his decision.

            (He could still feel the Gnosis burning.)

            Alhaitham stared down at the report, hands folded loosely in front of his face as he turned the matter over in his head.

            Under ideal circumstances, this would not be his decision to make.  It wasn’t a decision for anyone currently available, really; odds were, no one knew even half of what had truly been done, except the one person who should have been passing the sentence.

            Unfortunately, that person was still showing no signs of waking up any time soon.

            There was little precedent for dealing with a crime of this nature and magnitude, which Alhaitham supposed was a good thing; it suggested that such crimes were rare, which was good for him, and for his view of the world in general.  That said, the lack of precedent also made his present task significantly more difficult.  Not only did he have to come up with an appropriate punishment for the offense, he also had to make sure he didn’t set any… unfortunate… standards for the future, on the off chance that some foolish idiot missed the memo, and decided to attempt something similar.

            Not to mention, he himself would naturally be judged upon this decision.

            He didn’t need anyone to get any more wrong ideas.

            Alhaitham frowned in thought.  He reached down, and flipped idly through the pages of evidence, trial proceedings, and other such details.

            He paused as his eyes fell on a series of photos.

            The file he’d been given on Lumine, when he’d first been ordered to spy on her.  The Canned Knowledge extraction device.  The Shouki no Kami.

            (There was a saying about wishes, and unintended consequences…)

***

            Cyno watched as the door opened, and a man in a plain Akademiya robe was brought in.

            The man looked at him, then at the tall, white-cloaked figure beside him, and finally at the table in the center of the small room.

            On the table were an Akasha Terminal and a simple display stand, holding a single Knowledge Capsule.

            It would have seemed utterly innocuous, if not for the capsule’s unusual color – a deep shade of purple, so dark it would be easy to mistake for black.

            The man eyed the Knowledge Capsule uneasily as he sat down in the provided chair.

            (He is afraid.)

            As he should be.

            “Khajeh,” Cyno said without preamble.  “You have stood trial, and been judged guilty.  For your crimes against Sumeru and its people, including misuse of the Akasha, unethical human experimentation, insurgency against the Dendro Archon, high treason, revering gods without acts of devotion, and attempting the forbidden, and fearing none, you will now receive your due punishment, as decreed by the Second Dendro Archon.”

            He paused to glance at the man standing beside him.

            Cold, Dendro-green eyes gazed upon the man on the other side of the table.

            Clearly, Alhaitham was not impressed by his Darshan’s former Sage.

            “Well then, get on with it.”  Said ex-Sage was clearly trying to hide his fear, and failing miserably.  Cyno could easily see the way the man shifted in his seat, the way his eyes flicked back and forth between the General Mahamatra and the Archon.

            Cyno glanced pointedly down at the Akasha Terminal on the table, then looked back up at Khajeh.  “Put it on.”

            Khajeh paused, then did so.  He did not break eye contact.

            When the telltale leaf-shaped “earpiece” had appeared, Alhaitham reached down, and silently pushed the Knowledge Capsule forward.

            The ex-Sage looked down at the strange capsule, and slowly reached forward to take it from the display stand, clearly understanding the unspoken command.

            Use it.

            Cyno watched as the Akasha Terminal flickered, and dull, violet light drifted into it from that ominously-colored Knowledge Capsule.

            He’s not afraid enough.

***

            “Hi Alhaitham!  You needed to see us for something?”

            “That’s correct.  I have… a request.”

            “Sure, what’s – huh?  Whoa, what’s this thing doing here?!”

            “It’s related to the request, obviously.  I would like to make a Knowledge Capsule using some of Lumine’s memories.”

            “Huh?  Me?”

            “Wha – hold on, Paimon doesn’t know about this!  You’re not planning something suspicious again, are you?”

            “Of course not.  What makes you think that?”

            “W-well… just the whole thing about pulling Canned Knowledge out of people’s brains, and how it might really hurt…”

            “Which is why I am asking for permission to do so.  She is free to refuse.”

            “… okay, Paimon will trust you for now…”

            “So what memories do you need, and what exactly is this for…?”

***

            “Next.”

            Cyno watched as a Matra and two Corps of Thirty members led Khajeh out of the room.  They seemed… slightly unnerved.

            Understandable, considering the way their prisoner was shaking, and the look of abject terror in his eyes.

            Cyno could not bring himself to feel much sympathy.

            The former Spantamad Sage was next.

***

            “… that sounds… terrifying.”

            “…”

            “Let’s do it.”

***

            “Next.”

            Cyno watched the Matra and Corps of Thirty members lead Kshahrewar’s ex-Sage out of the room.  The interior of Matra headquarters was artificially cooled, as was standard for public buildings in Sumeru, but the former Sage was sweating as if he’d just come back from a day-long trek through the desert.

            (Fool.)

            The Matra and guards returned about ten minutes later, with their final prisoner.

            Cyno looked the bespectacled, bearded man square in the eye.

            “Azar.”

            The former Grand Sage, now dressed in a plain Akademiya robe like the others, glared back at him.  “General Mahamatra.”  He looked up at the Archon, then glanced around the rest of the small room.  “Hmph.  The new Grand Sage couldn’t be bothered to show up, I see.”

            “That is none of your concern.”  Cyno paused for a moment before continuing.  “Azar.  You have stood trial, and been judged guilty.  For your crimes against Sumeru and its people – misuse of the Akasha, unethical human experimentation, insurgency against the Dendro Archon, high treason, revering gods without acts of devotion, attempting the forbidden and fearing none, and more – you will now receive your punishment, as decreed by the Second Dendro Archon.”

            “Get on with it, already.  Or do you intend to try and bore me to death by standing there spouting procedure all day?”

            Electro seemed to crackle faintly in the back of Cyno’s mind.

            (Funny old man.  Less funny soon.)

            Cyno ignored the growl of amusement, and inclined his head briefly towards the Akasha Terminal on the table.  “Put it on.”

            Azar glared some more, but did as he’d been told.

            Once again, the leaf-shaped projection appeared, and the strange Knowledge Capsule was pushed forward.

            Once again, the silent order was obeyed.

            Once again, Cyno felt no sympathy.

***

            “Lord Idris.”

            The white-cloaked figure looked up from the table as Cyno entered the room, closing the door behind him.  He looked squarely into magically-altered eyes.

            “Or should I say, Grand Sage?”

            The eyes seemed to flicker slightly.  “Acting Grand Sage.”

            The voice was slightly muffled by the high collar concealing most of its owner’s face, but the resigned irritation in its tone was still clear.

            Cyno carefully maintained eye contact as he joined the Scr – Acting Grand Sage on the other side of the table, watching for any change in expression.  The eyes remained impassive, but Cyno caught the barely-audible, slightly strained breathing, the bead of sweat that trickled down one side of the face.  He noticed the way the air seemed to buzz, thick with elemental energy.

            Whatever problem Alhaitham had been having that other morning, it clearly hadn’t been resolved yet.  Cyno suspected it had something to do with the sudden power increase a transition to godhood would naturally involve.

            He wondered if Alhaitham regretted anything, yet.

            (He didn’t ask for this.)

            Cyno ignored the faint rumble in the back of his mind.  There were more important things to focus on for now.  “The former Sages are all accounted for, and ready to be brought in.  I will give the order when we are ready.”  He paused.  “What is the plan?”

            Alhaitham said nothing as he looked back down at the table.  Cyno followed his gaze to the objects that had been set out – an ordinary-looking Akasha Terminal, and… what appeared to be a Knowledge Capsule, on a simple display stand.

            “Appeared to be”, because even Cyno had never seen a Knowledge Capsule in such a deep, vaguely-ominous shade of violet.

            “I assume this contains… their punishment.”  Cyno eyed the capsule warily.  “Where did you get this?”

            “The raw contents were extracted from Lumine’s memory, with her consent.  I then made some edits, for… time, and reason.”

            Cyno… wasn’t sure how to feel about that.  That source was rather concerning, and he wasn’t quite sure if he could believe that Lumine had actually given her memories voluntarily.  But then again, he had actually seen Lumine and Paimon earlier that day, and neither of them had shown any signs of distress…

            “You do not need to worry about Lumine.  I could not have forced her to do anything, even if I’d wanted to.”

            (True.  Not strong enough yet.)

            Cyno frowned.  He still had… some doubts.  “Mind if I take a look?”

            Alhaitham looked at him for a moment before answering.  “I would not recommend it.  It is… not pleasant.”

            Of course it’s not.  This was created to be the Sages’ punishment.

            Cyno paused, then slowly reached out and took the capsule from its stand.

            The Dendro-green eyes seemed to flicker again, but their owner remained silent as Cyno raised the Knowledge Capsule to his Akasha Terminal.

            [Source detected.  Download? (Yes/No)]

            [Yes]

            Cyno quickly came to regret that decision.

            He was in a large, circular room.  The Shouki no Kami towered over him.

            He was in a large, circular room.  A massive, electrified lance slammed into the ground.  Thousands of volts of pain shot through him.  A white-gloved arm spasmed in the corner of his vision, as maniacal laughter rang in his ears.

            He was in a large, circular room.  There was a light blue, semi-spherical device on the ground.  A hand that was not his own swung forward, hurling what appeared to be an electrified blade at the device – but then it exploded, drowning him in a massive sphere of Cryo.

             He was in a large, circular room.  Lasers rained down from above.  He dodged one, then another, then two more – but then one was falling right on top of him.  A female voice screamed as the world went white, then black, amidst a flood of searing pain.

            He was in a large, circular room.  An enormous sphere of Electro fell from the sky.  Everything burned.

            He was in a large, circular room.  A column of Anemo suddenly formed beneath his feet, spinning him wildly around as it flung him into the air.  He stopped spinning, but before he could confirm which way was up, a titanic fist abruptly crushed him into the ground.

            He was in a large, circular room.  A colossal, sharp-ended leg came down.  He tried to dodge, but he was too slow.  A high-pitched voice screamed in the distance, as the massive metal spike plunged through his stomach.

            He was in a large, circular room.  A single, gigantic laser blasted towards him, and then he was engulfed in pain.  More maniacal laughter, as everything suddenly went black.

            He was in a large, circular room.

            It hurts.

            He was in a large, circular –

            Stop.

            He was in –

            Please stop.

            He was –

            Cyno gasped as he suddenly found himself in the small room again.  The hand holding the strange Knowledge Capsule loosened on its own; the capsule fell to the table with a clank.

            Electro crackled around him.  Hermanubis growled in his mind.

            (Fool.)

            Cyno raised a shaking hand to his chest, struggling to steady his breathing.  Anger simmered inside him.  He should have known better than to trust –

            (You were warned.)

            He blinked.

            The anger subsided, a little.

            … I was.

            He forced himself to return to reality, to remember that what he’d just seen wasn’t real.  It hadn’t actually happened, not to him – not even to Lumine.  It had all just been a dream.

            A very long, very realistic dream.

            Cyno took a deep, shuddering breath, and looked up at… the Acting Grand Sage.

            He paused.

            Alhaitham’s eyes seemed slightly glazed over.  The air was suddenly heavy with Dendro.

            The Acting Grand Sage slowly inhaled, then exhaled.  “As I said… it is not pleasant.”

            Anger flared again.  “There’s no need to – ”

            Cyno stopped, and blinked.

            Alhaitham’s eyes flickered again, seeming to revert to their true colors for just a moment.  The air grew heavier.

            It almost seemed like… a reaction to Cyno’s anger.

            That’s ridiculous.  Alhaitham doesn’t care what anybody thinks of him.

            (…)

            Regardless, Cyno forced the burst of anger back down.  Now wasn’t the time to be angry at the Acting Grand Sage; not with the current task at hand.

            They had a common enemy, for now.

            Taking another deep breath, Cyno picked up the dropped Knowledge Capsule, and carefully set it back on the display stand.

            “Very well.  Let’s proceed.”

***

            Cyno watched as Azar was led out of the room.

            The former Grand Sage was much quieter now, than he had been before.

            One hundred and sixty-eight loops of terror would do that, even if not all of them ended in pain and death.  Even condensed down to just the… “highlights”, a few short minutes of what had originally been hours, that was not an experience Cyno would recommend to anyone.

            He had to wonder just how long Lumine had lived, how much she’d seen, to have all of those memories, and still be sane.  To have willingly relived them, so that they could be turned into Canned Knowledge.

            He hoped the former Sages knew how lucky they were, that they had only been made to witness an abridged version of what they had created.

            Cyno watched as Alhaitham picked up the Knowledge Capsule from where it had been left on the table.

            Alhaitham’s hand glowed green for a moment, and then the capsule was evaporating into rapidly-dispersing motes of Dendro.

            Cyno watched the faintly-glowing particles as they drifted away.

            It was done.

Chapter Text

            He was burning.

            An enormous metal spike speared into the ground beside him.  A massive wave of Electro pulsed out from the point of impact, flooding him with thousands of volts of divine rage.

            A spiraling column of Anemo suddenly formed around him, pale green air turning bright orange as it drew in Pyro from somewhere.  The scorching winds yanked him off his feet, tossing him into the air as if he weighed nothing at all.  The world spun.

            After a few seconds, the spinning slowed, then stopped – just in time for him to see a massive, clawed hand flying towards him.

            Electro surged through him as the hand slammed him into the ground.  Chunks of rubble flew up around him, filling the air with dust.

            Slowly, the dust settled.

            An enormous, jackal-headed machine loomed over him.

            “Worm.”

            Another hand, much too small to belong to such a colossal being, shot out of seemingly nowhere, and straight through his chest.

            (Pain.)

            Red-and-indigo eyes glared down at him.

            “Face judgment.”

            (Pain.)

            Everything burned.

            (Pain – )

            Alhaitham awoke with a strangled gasp.

            It took him a few seconds to recognize the familiar ceiling.

            He was in bed, in his room, in his house.

            He was alone.

            (It was only a nightmare.)

            He took a deep breath – and was abruptly made aware of the searing pain in his chest, and the all-too-familiar heat in his lungs.

            (That couldn’t be right.  Cyno was away, checking on some things in Caravan Ribat and Aaru Village.  He was nowhere near close enough to – )

            Dendro flared.

            (… so it wasn’t just him anymore, then.)

            Alhaitham forced himself to take another breath, then slowly reached over and turned on the lamp on his nightstand.  He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light, and checked the clock.

            Ten minutes to midnight.

            (Wonderful.)

            Alhaitham groaned as he slowly sat up and pulled back the covers.  He would not be going back to sleep that night.

            (He should have been more careful while preparing the former Sages’ punishment.  He’d only directly exposed himself to a few brief snippets of those memories, but even that had clearly been too much.)

            The Gnosis flared again.

            (That nightmare’s other sources… couldn’t have been helped.)

            He got out of bed, and headed to the bathroom to prepare for the next day.

            (It was a good thing gods didn’t normally feel the need to sleep.)

***

            …

            … is… anyone here…?

            …

***

            Alhaitham watched as the moon slowly made its way across the sky.  There wasn’t much else to do, out in the middle of the desert in the dead of night; it was too dark to read (unless he cared to try using the unusually-large cluster of Flaming Flowers he was sitting next to as a light source, which just seemed like a good way to wind up losing a book), and there wasn’t anything of interest around to investigate, aside from a Pyro elemental monument that was unfortunately on the other side of a wall of solid light.

            He was also presently trapped within a set of said walls, so going somewhere else wasn’t an option, either.

            He’d picked a rather unfortunate time and place to discover that it was possible to overtax one’s elemental powers, to the point where they’d stop working altogether.  He’d been practicing using that light-like state his ascension had apparently granted him access to; with some trial and error, he’d found that he could actually control it reasonably well if he concentrated enough, and channeled enough Dendro.

            Unfortunately, it turned out that the amount of Dendro needed to maintain control was rather large, even for a god.  The problem was further complicated by the lack of any sort of cue before his powers simply gave out from the strain.  It was going to take some work, and possibly several more… “power outages”… to get a sense for when he needed to stop.

            … on second thought, it would probably be easier to just add a new assist function to his headphones.  The precision required was going to be a pain, though.

            (Of course his powers had shut off right as he’d been testing whether his “light form” could go through the Scarlet King’s light walls.  And of course this particular set of walls formed a completely enclosed space.  At least he had a heat source; he didn’t know if gods had to worry about hypothermia, but desert nights were uncomfortably cold, regardless.)

            Alhaitham sighed.  At least sitting around waiting for his powers to come back was still better than trying to go back to sleep, considering his reason for being out here in the middle of the night in the first place.

            He wasn’t ready to risk another Gnosis-induced nightmare just yet.

            Fortunately, it appeared that overextending his powers had not affected the Akasha; he was glad to not have to deal with another unexpected shutdown, even if this one would probably not have lasted quite so long.  He idly called up his Akasha Terminal (overextending his powers had, unfortunately, disabled his… internal access) and checked the time.  It was just past four in the morning.

            As if on cue, Dendro pulsed faintly inside him.

            (That had taken long enough.)

            He stood up, stretched, and turned in the general direction of Sumeru City.

            Time seemed to slow as he sped off in a burst of Dendro.

            (It was certainly convenient that channeling enough Dendro to control his light form also apparently slowed his perception of time.  Developing the reflexes needed to do anything at such an absurd speed would have been… difficult, to say the least, assuming it would even have been possible to begin with.  He was unfortunately still too fast to control his movements well enough for casual combat use while in that light-like state, but it was at least useful for travel.)

            Alhaitham carefully remained focused on his direction of travel as the world flew by – the dunes and assorted ruins of the Hypostyle Desert, then the cliffs and other rock formations further east, before he slipped between two sections of the Wall of Samiel, back into Dharma Forest.  Thankfully, his light form appeared to be more or less massless, like actual light, so he was able to simply travel over the forest, rather than through it; navigating between trees at this speed would have been an exercise in frustration, at best.

            He didn’t need any further delays – he had plans at eight, and he needed to stop by the Akademiya and take stock of his work for the day before then.  The last thing he needed was to take too long getting back, lose use of his powers again, and thus wind up delayed even further by having to walk back to the city.

            Fortunately, the trip back went by with no issues.

            That was, until he remembered that Kaveh had fallen asleep while working on something in the living room, and decided to return to his room in light form, so as to minimize the risk of waking his roommate and drawing a flood of questions about what he’d been doing up so early.  Navigating such a small space at such high speed would be a little tricky, but he figured he could handle it; he just needed to enter through one of the living room windows, and make two turns into the hallway leading to his door.

            Unfortunately, it turned out that Kaveh was already awake.  The good news was, he wasn’t looking in the right direction to see the beam of light enter the house.

            The bad news was, he was standing right in the path to Alhaitham’s room.

***

            Kaveh was looking over a design for one of his current projects, debating whether to add another set of windows to the front of the building, when his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud THUD, followed by the sound of his roommate swearing.

            Kaveh blinked, and turned in the direction of the noise.

            What’s Alhaitham doing up so early?

***

            “So these are Candied Ajilenakh Nuts?”

            “Yeah!  Do you like them?”

            “Mm, they are quite good.  The texture is a little harder than I expected…”

            Lumine smiled faintly as she sorted through the contents of her bag, quietly listening in as Paimon and Ei debated whether Ajilenakh Nuts were better candied, or made into Baklava.

            Sumeru was not the only nation that had been dealing with significant change, recently.  Since the repeal of the Sakoku Decree, Inazuma had been very busy renegotiating trade contracts and other such things that had been left unattended while the nation was closed off to the rest of Teyvat.  Notably, in light of Sumeru’s recent repeal of certain laws against the private possession of books – and the increase in local demand for literature that had naturally followed – the Yae Publishing House had expressed interest in collaborating with Sumeru’s publishing industry to expand business in both nations.

            Lumine wasn’t entirely sure how that particular piece of information had found its way to the Dendro Archon’s desk – she didn’t think private business dealings were something that really required his time and attention, and he had little of either of those things to spare these days – but she wasn’t surprised that he’d been quick to take interest in the idea once it had presented itself to him.  She’d also been unsurprised when, in the ensuing exchange of communications, the head of the Yae Publishing House had decided to send a “sample product” that was… perhaps a little too well-chosen.

            Lumine wasn’t sure how much a certain fox spirit actually knew, but the plot of A Master Thief’s Foolproof Guide to (Completely Unintentionally) Taking Over the World was… more or less what the title suggested.

            The Dendro Archon had not been amused – and neither had the Electro Archon, when she’d happened to come across Lumine and Paimon questioning the aforementioned fox spirit on the… implications… of her… “gift”.

            The second Raiden Shogun had not appreciated her friend making light of an… unwanted promotion, that had taken place under… unfortunate circumstances.

            Sumeru, at least, would have no further problems with a certain kitsune.

            … for a while.

            Probably.

            Fortunately, a few letters between the Archons had deescalated the matter, and salvaged the collaboration that had started the whole mess.  Said collaboration was proceeding smoothly, with book sellers in both Inazuma and Sumeru apparently making a tidy profit from the various imports and exports that had been arranged.

            It was not lost on Lumine that, incidentally, the Yae Publishing House’s most popular products appealed strongly to a younger audience, and could not simply be found in the Akasha.  A very useful combination, when one was fighting an embarrassingly-low national literacy rate, and most people still weren’t convinced that learning to read wasn’t just a huge waste of time.

            She was not surprised that the Dendro Archon had taken interest in the collaboration.

            She was somewhat surprised that he had taken interest in something the Electro Archon had offhandedly suggested.

            Considering his personality, and how his last spar with a colleague had gone, Lumine had thought he’d be more… averse… to the idea of a second attempt.

            In any case, it was thus that Lumine, Paimon, and Ei were now in a remote corner of the Hypostyle Desert, the former two having come to make sure the latter found the right place – and as before, to keep an eye on things, just in case.  They’d arrived a little early, so for now, Paimon was introducing Ei to some of Sumeru’s local desserts, and Lumine was taking the opportunity to check her supplies.

            Lumine was just reorganizing a few of her more-frequently used items when she caught a flicker of green light out of the corner of her eye.  She looked up, knowing who it was.  “Good morning, Al – ”

            She stopped, and blinked.

            She somehow knew without looking that, behind her, the others were doing the same.

            “What happened to you?”  That was Paimon.

            Alhaitham started to raise a hand as if to pinch the bridge of his nose, but then stopped, evidently deciding that doing so would have been a bad idea.

            Given that his nose was currently a rather painful-looking shade of purple, Lumine had to agree with that assessment.

            “Don’t worry about it,” he said flatly.

***

            Alhaitham had not expected to have to raise his estimation of Lumine’s strength again, after it had been confirmed that she’d successfully defeated the “god” known as the Shouki no Kami, with Lord Kusanali’s assistance.

            He had also not expected to learn that she’d previously fought an actual Archon.

            Not “fought” as in “had some friendly competition”, but as in “had an actual, serious fight, and someone almost legitimately died”.

            And not “Archon” as in “one of the younger members of the current Seven”, but as in “a survivor of the Archon Wars”.

            (Why had that not been in the file he’d gotten from the former Sages?  Their information had almost certainly come from the Doctor, and he knew the Fatui had been heavily involved in Inazuma’s recent problems.  Had they been trying… well, yes, given what else he already knew, and the various other details that had been missing from that file, they probably had been trying to get him killed.  Or at the very least, they wouldn’t have minded if that had been the result.)

            Lumine had attempted to downplay these facts, noting that she was nearly killed the first time around, and only “won” the second fight because she’d borrowed the power of ninety-nine Visions, and Ei had still been holding back.  That this of course meant she had, in fact, fought an actual Archon twice was apparently nothing notable.

            Alhaitham was also not sure how much “holding back” really meant, given that Ei was definitely holding back now.

            He didn’t think it was making much of a difference.

            For what it was worth, things at least felt less one-sided than they had when he’d fought Zhongli.  Ei didn’t have an impenetrable wall constantly surrounding her, at least, and therefore had to put some effort into defense and evasion.  Unfortunately, this fact was rendered largely meaningless by her speed.

            Unlike the Geo Archon, the Electro Archon was exactly as fast as her element implied.

            That was to say, extremely fast.

            (He really wished his light form wasn’t so hard to control.)

            Alhaitham dodged to one side as the violet naginata wheeled by, then quickly ducked under the follow-up slash of Electro that came out of what appeared to be some kind of portal.  There was no time to consider his next move; the polearm was already swinging back around, blindingly fast, forcing him to dodge on instinct alone.

            He backpedaled away from the flurry of slashes that followed, wincing as one caught him across the nose.  He forced down the urge to check how much the new cut was bleeding; his still-healing bruise wouldn’t have appreciated the unnecessary contact.

            (At least he hadn’t hit the wall hard enough to damage anything other than himself; that would have been… difficult… to explain.  Kaveh had laughed at him, for supposedly staying up too late and forgetting the layout of his own house, but that was better than the likely reaction to… other things.)

            Electro-violet eyes flashed.  The ground seemed to glow beneath Alhaitham’s feet.

            That was all the warning he got before a massive bolt of Electro dropped out of the sky.  He barely managed to move before it hit the ground, turning the sand he’d been standing on a moment before into glass.

            Alhaitham bit back a curse as more lightning bolts rained down.  His feet skidded on the loose sand as he tried to run; a quick pulse of Dendro got him out of the way in time, but one bolt still struck close enough to send the characteristic prickle of Electro running down his back.  He nearly slipped again as he stopped moving, and he quickly reminded himself that there was, in fact, a reason they weren’t doing this in the Aeonblight Drake’s cave like last time.

            (Fighting an Archon-level Electro elemental anywhere near a forest was just a bad idea.  Fighting an Archon-level Electro elemental near a rainforest was an even worse idea.)

            He summoned several mirrors in a widely-spaced array to attack, mostly as a distraction so he could get some space to breathe.  Unfortunately, all of said mirrors were immediately hit by a wide sweep of Electro.

            It was a… somewhat common misconception, that one should be careful around mirrors during lightning storms, as lightning could reflect off of mirrors and hit things nearby.  This was false, of course; lightning was electricity, not merely light, and therefore could not be reflected by a mirror.  Most mirrors could possibly conduct electricity, being made partially of metal, but that was not the same thing as reflecting.

            That said, Alhaitham’s Dendro mirrors did not conduct electricity.  Being made from elemental energy, they did not contain any metal.  They did, however, have physical properties very similar to glass, which was an insulator.

            Unfortunately, this presented a different problem.  Electricity generated heat when met with resistance; the higher the resistance, the more heat was generated.  Electrical insulators, by definition, had very high resistivity.

            Glass tended to fail from thermal shock in response to extreme temperature changes.

            In simpler terms, glass broke when hit by lightning.

            When hit by the Electro Archon’s lightning, glass exploded.

            There was a loud CRACK.  Alhaitham dodged backwards, slamming his eyes shut and throwing an arm up in front of his face as shards of solidified Dendro sprayed back at him.

            Fortunately, Dendro “glass” disintegrated fairly quickly once broken.  The fragments stung where they hit, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about removing them.

            He quickly made a mental note to not place his mirrors between himself and Ei.

            Alhaitham lowered his arm as the stinging stopped.  Some instinct screamed at him to open his eyes.  He did – just in time to see the flash of sunlight off his opponent’s naginata, right before the flat of the blade caught him square in the ribs, with enough force to send him flying a full three meters to the side.

            (Yet another reason to be glad they were doing this in the desert.  Ei was a lot less shy about tossing her opponent around than Zhongli had been, and getting thrown onto sand was far preferable to landing on dirt or stone.)

            He rolled as he hit the ground, barely avoiding the Electro slash that almost immediately went through the space where he’d landed.

            (He really needed to hurry and get a handle on his powers, so he could practice against opponents a bit closer to his level.  Being completely outmatched was the safe option for now, given that he still hadn’t fully determined the limits of his own strength, but getting beaten into the ground wasn’t exactly fun.)

            Two more lightning bolts fell as Alhaitham got to his feet, both narrowly missing, as did yet another strike from a portal.  He saw Ei shift her stance in preparation to move in for another close-range attack, and quickly created another mirror – behind her, so the inevitable cloud of fragments would fly away from him – to keep her busy for a few more fractions of a second.  It didn’t last quite as long as he’d hoped – the violet polearm was back in his face before he could properly adjust his grip on his swords, and he nearly dropped them blocking a swing that came too quickly for him to dodge – but it was at least enough for him to fully stand up before getting attacked again.

            More lightning.  Another slash of Electro.  Another series of close-range strikes, too fast for his mind to fully process, even as his body dodged on its own.  He thought he saw an opening after a particularly wide swing, but Ei sidestepped his attempted counterattack without so much as batting an eye; before he could even register which way she’d moved, the shaft of her naginata caught him in the legs, sweeping them out from under him and dropping him flat on his back.

            He didn’t react quickly enough to avoid the follow-up Electro attack this time.  His body shuddered involuntarily as he levered himself off the ground and dragged himself back onto his feet, forcing himself to ignore the dull ache in his legs.

            (He paused for a moment to pick up the tube of fused sand that last Electro attack had left where it had hit the ground.  Fulgurites weren’t exactly common in the desert, given the obvious rarity of lightning in a region that got next to no precipitation; it would be interesting to study the structure of one up close, even if this one could hardly be considered “natural”.)

            Another lightning bolt struck down.  Alhaitham nearly slipped again as he dodged, but he suddenly remembered something from those first days in Aaru Village, when he’d been listening in on Lumine, Paimon, and Cyno’s initial discussion on the missing Village Keepers.  He pushed some Dendro out of his feet and into the ground – and nearly lost his balance anyway, as his feet abruptly rooted themselves into the sand, while the rest of him attempted to keep moving.

            Inertia was clearly not his friend, today.

            The sand crackled and glowed beneath him, and he barely managed to cut off the flow of Dendro in time to move out of the way of the incoming lightning strike.  The air seemed to ripple behind him, and then there was a sharp burst of pain as Electro struck him across the back.

            Admittedly, he’d been wondering how long it would take for Ei to do that.  It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already tried attacking her from behind, himself.

            More lightning bolts fell.  More portals opened around him as he dodged; Electro slashed at him from seemingly every direction at once.  He tried conjuring more mirrors as a distraction, to little effect; the storm of Electro didn’t even seem to slow down, even as Ei turned to block the shots coming from behind her, and destroy their sources.  He summoned another array of mirrors behind himself, in hopes that it might be harder to take down – only to immediately feel the air rippling behind him again, followed by the sting of crystallized Dendro shards on the back of his neck, reminding him that the Electro Archon was not bothered by such trivial things as distance.

            Clearly, staying at range would not be to his advantage.  But then, with the obvious gap in weapon skill, not to mention weapon length, fighting up close would hardly be ideal, either…

            Alhaitham paused as Ei shifted her stance, evidently watching for an opportunity to close in with her polearm again.

            He noted the weapon’s long handle, recalled the wide, sweeping strikes and slashes the Electro Archon seemed to favor.

            He observed the gleam of sunlight on metal, and on polished wood.

            (It probably wouldn’t be that much of a surprise, but if he was fast enough…)

            He took a deep breath, and focused past the storm that surrounded him.

            (It was worth an attempt, at least.)

            The world blurred, for just an instant.

            Violet eyes flashed, startled, as he shifted out of light form, much closer to his opponent than she had clearly been expecting.  The naginata spun back around, the shaft hitting him in the side, but the strike had far less impact, this close to the pivot point.

            To be fair, being this close wasn’t ideal for him, either; swordplay was awkward, at best, when there wasn’t even room to fully extend his arms.  That was fine, though – he hadn’t been planning to fight at this distance, exactly.

            Alhaitham de-summoned his second sword, sending the emerald blade back to its storage space, and grabbed at the whirling violet blur with his now-free hand.

            There was a dull thump as the spinning suddenly stopped.

            There were disadvantages, to having a weapon with a high ratio of “handle” to “blade”.

            His feet slid a little, as his opponent attempted to pull her weapon out of his hand, and he quickly pushed some Dendro out of them, planting them into the ground.  Ei pulled back again, but he managed to keep his grip, even as Electro pulsed through the polearm and into him.

            She seemed to pause for a moment.

            He yanked on her weapon – and nearly fell over backwards, as he suddenly found himself facing no resistance.

            There was a massive burst of Electro, as the naginata abruptly vanished.

            Alhaitham barely managed to free his feet from the ground in time to dodge the Electro-infused blade that swung at him from out of seemingly nowhere.  He briefly caught a glimpse of Lumine and Paimon’s reactions as the unexpected second weapon – a tachi, if his estimate of its length was accurate – slashed at him again.  Their expressions only confirmed what the absurd amount of Electro radiating from the blade had already suggested to him.

            He did not want to get hit by that.

            (He dimly recalled one of the House of Daena’s books on Inazuman mythology, and the somewhat vague descriptions of the Electro Archon’s legendary sword.)

            Another slash, impossibly fast.  Electro poured from the blade, extending its reach even beyond what its considerable length already allowed.

            (He hoped he wouldn’t also be getting a demonstration of a certain legendary sword technique today.)

            More attacks rained down on him.  The lightning bolts and portals had stopped, but that didn’t seem to be helping much.  One swing of the tachi passed a little too close, flooding him with more Electro than even a direct hit from one of the portal strikes.

            He couldn’t stay this close anymore.  He needed space.

            Alhaitham backpedaled as quickly as he could without losing his footing on the sand.  Residual Electro flared, causing one foot to slip; his opponent’s sword swept by as he stumbled, mere centimeters from his shoulder.  Another swing came from his left, too fast to dodge, and he barely remembered to re-summon his second sword before attempting to block.

            Metal clashed.  Electro shot through his sword and up his arm, causing the limb to seize for a moment, but it was better than taking an actual hit.

            (Think.  He needed space to think.)

            Another slash.  Two more.  He blocked the last swing with both swords, willing his body to keep moving as more Electro poured into him.

            The onslaught seemed to stop for a moment, but Alhaitham saw Ei’s stance shift, and immediately realized he needed to get out of range, fast.  There was no way he would be able to block all the attacks that were coming, not with so much Electro already impairing his mobility, and certainly not with all the additional Electro that would conduct through his weapons.

            He prepared to dodge backwards, as far as he could manage – only for his legs to seize, right as Ei started to move again.

            He did the only thing he could think of that might still get him out of the way in time.

            Everything blurred.

            Electro flared, somewhere in the distance, as he cut off the flow of Dendro.  His feet slid out from under him as they hit the sand, sending him tumbling to the ground.

            (It was still better than a direct hit.)

            Alhaitham winced as he slowly pulled himself to his feet.  He… could probably keep going, a little bit longer.  He just needed a few seconds to discharge some of the lingering Electro in his body, so he could actually move properly…

            He looked up.  Ei was already preparing her next attack.

            (He needed a distraction.)

            Electro-violet eyes flickered.  Sunlight flashed on his opponent’s blade.

            Residual Electro burned.  He couldn’t move.

            (He needed a distraction, now.)

            Alhaitham channeled as much Dendro as he could, as quickly as he could manage, as the Musou Isshin flared with Electro.

            Dendro coalesced and solidified around the Electro Archon, mirrors forming in carefully-calculated patterns along familiar translucent walls.  He didn’t have time to gather the energy needed for the much larger array he’d created in his fight with Zhongli, but this setup was better optimized, being the one he used most regularly.  Without a seemingly-unbreakable wall of Geo in the way, the lasers could reflect unobstructed, thus maximizing the time for which each one would remain within the enclosed space.

            Thankfully, said space was large enough that the mirrors were not immediately destroyed by the wave of Electro that discharged from his opponent’s sword, as its wielder realized that her intended path had been blocked.

            Alhaitham took a moment to catch his breath as lasers flew.  Residual Electro sparked, making his body seize up again, but the lingering elemental energy finally cleared; he let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding as he adjusted his grip on his swords, and his hands moved with no unexpected resistance.

            Unfortunately, while his laser field had given him the time he needed, it didn’t seem to be accomplishing much else.  Ei was simply too fast; she was casually deflecting most of the lasers with her sword, and dodging the rest.  One shot flew in his direction; he barely reacted in time to get out of the way.  The beam sped by – so close, he felt its heat on his face as it passed.

            That said, he could see… a potential opening.

            Alhaitham watched as the mirrors fired off what he knew would be their last few shots, as Ei turned, elemental energy flaring as Dendro and Electro collided.  She seemed to have found a rhythm to defending and evading – deflect two, dodge one.

            (If he was reading the timing and trajectory of those remaining lasers correctly, and Ei reacted as expected…)

            Two beams were deflected – one clockwise, the other counterclockwise.

            A third beam was dodged.  It reflected off the mirror opposite its point of origin.

            All three converged on the far side of the field.

            (It wasn’t much of an opening, but if he focused…)

            He took a deep breath as all three lasers reflected back towards the center of the field.  He had to be careful with his next moves; if he took too long, and burned too much Dendro…

            Ei turned away from him, tachi already moving to intercept the lasers that would reach her position first.

            (… it was enough.)

            Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

            Alhaitham sped forward.  He dug his feet into the sand as he stopped channeling Dendro and time started moving again, taking just a fraction of a second to double-check that he wasn’t in the way of the third laser, as the other two flew off into the distance.

            Ei turned back around, eyes wide with surprise, even as she sidestepped the final laser, the beam flying harmlessly by.

            He swung with both swords – left, then right.  The first strike only hit metal, and he forced himself not to flinch as Electro raced up his arm.

            Violet eyes immediately locked on to the still-incoming attack – but the first had come too quickly to be fully parried, and she’d staggered slightly at the impact, delaying her reaction to the follow-up slash.

            (Too late to dodge.)

            Turquoise and gold flashed.

            (Too late to block.)

            He saw the flicker of green on one side of his peripheral vision, and the flare of Electro on the other, and knew he had to move.

            Dendro pulsed.  The world blurred around him.

            Alhaitham skidded to a stop, and looked up, just as the Musou Isshin flashed, sending the final laser shooting off over the horizon with a burst of elemental energy.

            Ei stared back at him.

            Electro sparked from a thin, barely-visible line on one side of her face.

            It was accompanied by just the barest flicker of residual Dendro.

            Alhaitham blinked.

            (Had he actually – )

            He didn’t get to finish that thought.  Lumine’s voice shattered the momentary silence like a rock through spun glass.  “Alhaitham, look out – !”

            Something green flashed on his right.

            The side of his face, around his right eye, exploded in searing pain.

            Alhaitham stumbled to his left, away from the apparent source of… whatever had just hit him.  One foot slipped on the desert sand; he was too startled to try and catch himself, and he fell over backwards, dropping his swords.  His now-empty hands instinctively flew to his eye.

            “Alhaitham!”  That was Paimon.  He heard the faint fwooh sound she sometimes made when moving quickly, then her voice again, now closer.  “Alhaitham, are you okay?!”

            He tried to respond, but only managed a strangled gasp as pain flared in his injured eye.

            (Was that one of his lasers?  How had it come back?)

            “I will go investigate,” Ei said, a little further away.  “Stay here.”

            Alhaitham managed to pull his left hand away from his face as Electro crackled nearby; he sat up, using his free arm to lever himself off the ground.  Through his good eye, he saw that Ei had apparently already left.

            Lumine’s voice came from his right.  “Can you lower your hand?”

            He paused, then slowly did as requested, biting back a hiss of pain at the sting of dry air on probably-burned skin.  From the sharp intake of breath he heard from Lumine’s direction, he guessed his eye probably looked just as bad as the pain suggested it did.

            “Yeah, uh, that’s… uh, ca – can you open it…?”

            He did, slowly, forcing himself to ignore the pain.  Concerningly, the only thing he could see on that side was an indistinct blur of assorted colors, seemingly behind a thick, dark haze.

            (The Gnosis could probably deal with it.  If the damage from getting slammed through a stone column and into a wall could be more or less healed off in a single night, then a laser burn was probably nothing.)

            Pain flared again.  He instinctively pressed his hand back to the damaged eye.

            (Probably.)

            Thankfully, that rather unpleasant train of thought was interrupted by Ei returning from… wherever she’d gone.  “I believe I have found the… culprit,” she reported.

            Alhaitham looked in her direction.  The other Archon was holding… what appeared to have been some kind of polearm.  “Have been”, because it wasn’t much of a polearm anymore.  Whatever the sharp end had once been, it was now a shapeless mass of half-melted metal.

            Said mass was still glowing a faint shade of green.

            Alhaitham blinked.  “How far away was that?” he asked.

            (His throat burned.  He hadn’t realized how long their fight had been.)

            Ei paused for a moment.  “A… fair distance.  It was quite a bit further from here than any of us could have seen.”

            (The line on her face was already gone.)

            He took a second to process that statement, then groaned.

            His lasers’ maximum effective range, before, had been only slightly further than he could see on a clear day.  He’d specifically tested that parameter while learning to use his Vision, so he would know how far he could shoot from without losing too much power.

            For a shot to have reflected multiple times within his mirror field, then flown well out of sight, reflected again, and returned, and still had enough power to cause significant damage…

            (He really needed to hurry and figure out his new limits.)

            There was a faint shuffling noise, and movement on his left; he glanced in that direction, and saw that it was Lumine.  She pressed a Mist Flower corolla into his free hand.

            “Are you alright?” she asked.

            (… the pain was fading, a little.  He still couldn’t see much out of that eye, though.)

            Alhaitham sighed.

            “I think… I’m going to work from home today.”

***

            Fortunately, it appeared that his (technically self-inflicted) burn was, in fact, within the Gnosis’s ability to heal.

            Alhaitham glared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.  There was an angry red patch, about the size of his palm, around his right eye.  It… definitely didn’t look great, especially since he still couldn’t open the eye all the way.  On closer examination, the eye itself seemed slightly discolored as well, which was also possibly concerning.

            At least he knew it most likely wasn’t actually that big of a problem.  It already didn’t hurt as much, and his vision on that side was gradually starting to clear up, maybe an hour or so since the initial hit.  The damage would likely be unnoticeable by the end of the day.

            Until then, though, he was staying home.  He wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of the questions he was likely to draw.

            (There hadn’t even been anyone wielding that polearm his laser had reflected off of.  Ei had found it half-buried in sand, formerly-sharp end up.  It had clearly been left there a long time ago; its former owner was probably long dead.)

            Alhaitham sighed as he turned to head to his study.  Just a few months ago, deciding to work from home for a day would have been nothing noteworthy.  He didn’t do it too often – it wasn’t as convenient as one might expect, given that his work frequently involved retrieving documents of varying degrees of confidentiality from various parts of the Akademiya – but he’d done it often enough to see it as just another option for those days when he really didn’t feel like dealing with people.

            Nowadays, there were just way too many things that required him to be present at the Akademiya to handle.  It just wasn’t worth it to stay home anymore, most days.

            That being said, today was clearly not “most days”.

            (For what it was worth, he actually didn’t have any particularly important meetings scheduled, for once.  He was probably still going to regret staying home, somewhat, given the amount of paperwork that would inevitably be added to his never-ending backlog, but at least one thing was going right that day.)

            Arriving at his desk, Alhaitham sat down and started going through the drawers for the supplies he’d need for the day.  It had been some time, at this point, since he’d done any work at home, and contrary to what someone would claim, he wasn’t in the habit of leaving things lying around when he knew they wouldn’t be in use.

            (If he didn’t know if something would be in use… well, that was a different matter.)

            He’d just gotten all of his writing supplies out and refilled his inkwell when he heard the front door rattling.

            Alhaitham blinked, then sighed, annoyed.  There was no good reason for anyone to be fiddling with his front door right now.  He’d already informed the relevant people that he was going to be out of office for the day, via the Akasha, so there was no reason for anyone to be looking for him; the only people who did have a legitimate reason to be at his door were Lumine and Paimon, who’d offered to come by and drop off the things he needed from the Akademiya, and they had the manners to just knock.

            Of course someone had decided to try and break into his house that day.

            (What kind of idiot thought it was a good idea to try breaking into someone’s house in broad daylight?  Also, how stupid was this person, to be attempting such a thing without first checking if anyone was home?  Vision holders weren’t that rare.)

            Standing up, Alhaitham summoned his primary sword to his hand, then slowly made his way to the living room.  The door – or more specifically, the doorknob – continued to shake; if anything, it only seemed to rattle harder as he approached.

            He waited.

            Finally, there was a loud click.

            Alhaitham sighed again as the door swung open, though he didn’t raise his sword just yet.  “I don’t know what you were expecting to find here, but I would leave if I were – ”

            He stopped, and blinked.

            Red eyes, with elongated pupils, blinked back at him.

            “Alhaitham?”

            He blinked again, then slowly exhaled.

            (It was just Kaveh.)

            Kaveh stared at him for a moment, then looked down at the sword in his hand.  “Uh… is there… something going on…?”

            Alhaitham paused to de-summon his weapon before responding to the question.  “… no.  I heard the doorknob rattling, and thought someone was breaking in.”  He paused again.  “Kaveh, did you pick the lock?”

            “Uh…”  His roommate looked away sheepishly.  “Yeah…”

            “Do I want to know why you were picking the lock to the house you live in?”

            Kaveh let out an embarrassed-sounding laugh.  “Well, I… kind of left in a hurry earlier, and forgot some stuff I needed for later in the day.  And also, uh, my key.  I didn’t think you’d be home, I didn’t know where you would be, and I needed to get my stuff pretty quick, so…”

            Alhaitham gave his roommate a flat look.  “… I see.”

            “Yeah, sorry…”  Kaveh paused.  “So, uh… why are you home, anyway?  Don’t you have all that work you’ve been complaining so much about lately, Mr. Acting Grand Sage?”

            Alhaitham rolled his eyes.  “It’s none of your concern, but yes.  I’m working from – ”

            He stopped mid-sentence.

            (Oh, no.)

            Red eyes looked back up at his face.

            (It was Kaveh.)

            “Hey, why did you – what the – Alhaitham?!  What happened to your – ?!”

            He got about half a second to wonder which god he’d managed to anger that day, before a hand closed on the back of his shirt collar.

***

            Lumine blinked, hand stopping halfway to the submissions rack on the wall outside the Scribe’s office, as a message came through her Akasha Terminal.

            [Change of plans.  Meet in Sanctuary of Surasthana.]

            She glanced over at Paimon.  The fairy looked back at her, Akasha Terminal flickering as well, and shrugged.

***

            Alhaitham was halfway through annotating a funding request that needed to be sent back for revision when he felt what seemed to be a slight breeze.

            Given that the Sanctuary of Surasthana had no windows, and the doors were firmly shut, he could only think of one reason why there would be any sort of wind inside.

            Alhaitham sighed as he checked to make sure none of the paperwork he had out had been blown away, then turned to set his pen down.  His hand bumped into his inkwell; he paused to steady the container before carefully lowering his writing implement into the jar.

            (Being temporarily without depth perception, while also blind on his writing-hand side, was not a fun combination.)

            He turned off his music player, and looked up at the slight burst of Anemo he’d known was coming.  He wasn’t really in the mood for visitors, especially those with a tendency for… mischief… but he could manage at least a semblance of civility, for now.  “Venti.”

            “Hi Alhaitham!  You moved your office for the day, huh?  Not where I’d have expected, but I guess this is the quietest – ”

            The other Archon stopped, looked at him, and blinked.  “Whoa.  Uh, did you get in a fight or something?”

            Alhaitham managed not to sigh again.  He knew Venti was staring at his now-bandaged right eye.  “Objectively speaking, yes.  Though I suppose I should note that the… ‘fight’… was mutually arranged, and not… serious.”

            “Oh, uh… that’s good, I guess?  What’d they do?”

            “… technically, I did it.  One of my attacks got reflected, and I didn’t see it in time.”

            (It wouldn’t really be fair to blame his injury on Ei.  She hadn’t known about that random discarded weapon, either.)

            Venti winced.  “Ouch.  Was it that bad?”

            Alhaitham gave the still-healing burn a cautious poke.  It stung, but only a little, and the surface was already hard.  “Probably not.  But someone… saw, and… overreacted.”

            (The dark haze had already been gone by the time he’d given up trying to argue, and let Kaveh sit him down to “deal with” his wound, even if he still hadn’t been able to see clearly.  At least he’d managed to convince his roommate that a trip to the Bimarstan was unnecessary.  And at least his nose had already healed by that point, so he’d been spared that indignity.)

            “Heh, yeah, I’ve been in that boat before.  Some people won’t listen to a thing you say, once you’re even just a little bit drunk.”

            Alhaitham gave Venti a flat look at that.  He hadn’t actually seen the Anemo Archon drunk, yet, but experience told him that anyone who casually talked about being “just a little bit drunk” was probably overestimating their own alcohol tolerance.

            “Well anyway, at least it wasn’t anything too serious.  Though, uh, you might have to pretend for a little bit, if it looked that bad.  That sort of thing can be a little obvious.”

            (He’d already thought of that potential problem.  Fortunately, Kaveh would be going to oversee the construction of one of his projects in the desert the next day, and wouldn’t be back for at least a week – long enough that it wouldn’t be too suspicious.  No one else who didn’t already know had gotten a close enough look.)

            Alhaitham sighed, pausing briefly to adjust his headphones before asking the question he wanted answered.  “Venti, is there a reason you’re here right now?  As you can probably see, I don’t exactly have time for idle conversation at the moment.”

            Venti shrugged cheerfully.  “Sort of?  Honestly, not really.  But it sounded like you were having kind of a rough week last time I was here, and I’ve been stuck on the new song I’ve been trying to write, so I figured I’d stop by for a change of scenery, ehe.”

            “… I see.  Did someone tell you I was here?”

            “Nah, it really wasn’t that hard to guess.  I checked your old office first, but it was pretty obvious nobody was using it anymore.  There was that sign on the door saying to send stuff for the Archon’s proxy to the Grand Sage’s office instead, and when you weren’t there, either, I kind of figured you were probably doing something here.  So anyway, want a drink?”

            Alhaitham blinked as Venti pulled a bottle out of his cape.  He started to point out that he was working, but stopped when he saw the label.  “… apples?”

            “Yeah!  Mondstadt’s apple cider is pretty famous, too!  Though… whoops, I guess there isn’t really anything to pour it into here, huh?”  Venti shrugged, and set the bottle down on the Sanctuary’s central pedestal.  “Oh well.  Good thing I brought two!”

            Alhaitham picked up the bottle to take a closer look as, sure enough, Venti produced a second, identical bottle.  He glanced over the text – Cider Lake Apple Cider, Dawn Winery.

            (He wondered how long Kaveh would be fooled, if he changed the label.  His roommate had been having to outrun a few too many deadlines at the same time, lately; the resulting stress was clearly showing.  Vision holders were generally less susceptible to the… more permanent… effects of excessive drinking, which probably explained how Kaveh wasn’t already showing some of said effects, but everything had its limit…)

            “Anyway, don’t mind me.  I know you’ve got a million people and things to deal with, so I’ll leave you to it.”  Venti casually floated up, and perched himself on one of the curved, latticed structures surrounding the Sanctuary’s central platform.  “I’m guessing those things on your ears block sound, right?  You’ll probably forget I’m even here, ehe.”

            Alhaitham watched for a moment as the other Archon produced a lyre from somewhere, then shrugged.  He saw no reason to argue with that, at least for now; his headphones weren’t turned on yet, nor was his music player, and a lyre wasn’t a particularly loud instrument.  He’d wait and see how high the volume actually got before making any decisions.

            (He glanced back at the energy bubble still suspended over the central podium, and the dormant god still floating inside.  Lord Kusanali still hadn’t shown any signs of waking up, but there didn’t seem to be as much Dendro energy flowing out of her anymore.  He hoped that was a good sign.)

            Retrieving his pen from his inkwell, Alhaitham turned back to the funding request he’d been working on when Venti first arrived.

            A few notes, and some faint humming, drifted down from above.

            He started to reach for his music player, then stopped.

            (… he supposed he could listen to something different, today.)

Chapter Text

            Alhaitham stared at his desk.

            He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again.

            Nothing had changed.

            (How did this keep happening?)

            Over the last few weeks, he had been… noticing things.

            It had started with a few scattered documents, back when he was still in his old office.  He’d come in one morning, and found several pages of backlogged paperwork strewn across his desk, when he was sure everything had been carefully sorted and stacked before he’d gone home the previous night.

            Alhaitham hadn’t thought too much of it, at the time.  He’d figured there was probably a perfectly reasonable explanation for the discrepancy – the custodians occasionally knocked some papers over while cleaning, and generally knew not to make things worse by attempting to re-sort the fallen pages without knowing what anything was or where it belonged.  Alternatively, it had been rather late when he’d left, and it was entirely possible that he’d simply been mistaken about having properly cleaned up his work.  Even if physical exhaustion was no longer an issue that came with working long hours, mental exhaustion was still a possibility.

            A few misplaced items should have been no concern.

            The problem was, it kept happening.

            At first, it was just a few sheets of paper, once every few days or so.  Then pens started winding up on the floor.  File folders soon followed, then the occasional book.  The frequency of such… incidents… increased to once every other day, then once a day, and then multiple times a day.  He’d leave his office to get something from the archives, and something would be knocked over by the time he returned, no matter how certain he was that he’d locked the window and door before leaving.

            It continued, somehow, even after he’d become Acting Grand Sage.  The Scribe’s office had a door, and locks could be picked – but the Grand Sage’s office was only accessible through a guarded elevator that was only operable by certain individuals, or through a number of hidden doors that only the Matra could open from outside.

            That clearly had not stopped… whoever it was, that was behind all this.

            The obvious conclusion, of course, was that the culprit was a Matra – but then, the issue would have been resolved by now, if it had really been so simple.  Alhaitham had set recording devices – both visual and auditory – to watch all the possible entrances, and found nothing.  The Matra were good at their jobs, but no one was that good.

            (Well, except maybe two.  But one of those people had only learned of his promotion to Acting Grand Sage days after the fact, while the “incidents” had continued immediately, and he definitely would have noticed the other person sneaking in during the day by now.)

            In fairness, things getting knocked over whenever he was away was annoying, but hardly anything to really be concerned by.  Nothing was going missing, and the only thing that had been broken was a pen that appeared to have been stepped on.  If there had been no other problems, Alhaitham would probably have dismissed the whole thing as a particularly petty and persistent detractor messing with him for personal entertainment, told the Matra to keep an eye out for the culprit, and left it at that.

            Unfortunately, there were other problems.

            Alhaitham could swear he’d been seeing things.  Flashes of movement in his peripheral vision; objects in the distance, or behind other objects, that seemed to vanish when he looked in their direction.  This particular problem had, incidentally, become noticeably more frequent for a day or two following his spar with Ei, a fact he’d have written off as a lingering effect of his eye injury – except he’d noticed the increase in frequency on the day of that event, while he couldn’t see anything out of his damaged eye, so that couldn’t have been the cause.

             He… wasn’t sure if it was good or bad, that this problem mostly seemed to occur in the early morning or late evening, when there were few other people around.  On the one hand, it was good that there weren’t many others around to see him reacting to what could very possibly be a recurring hallucination.

            On the other hand, it was also entirely possible that whatever he was seeing was, in fact, real – and it was somewhat unnerving to be mostly alone, often in the dark, with the thought that he was possibly being followed.

            (He was well aware that he had no shortage of enemies, as Acting Grand Sage and the Archon’s proxy.  And of course, the Fatui would be back, eventually.)

            And on top of all that, he was hearing things.

            Alhaitham was, at least, reasonably sure that this particular issue was real, and not just something his mind had conjured to torment itself for some unknown reason.  Whatever he was hearing, he only heard it when he didn’t have his headphones on.

            That being said, the sound being real was… not necessarily a good thing.  He had no idea where – or what – it was coming from.

            And it was always the same sound.

            Plip-plod, plip-plod.

            (He’d had few reasons to remove his headphones, as it was.  Now he was beginning to dread removing them.)

            Alhaitham slowly inhaled, then exhaled, before moving to pick up the things that had been knocked over this time – his inkwell, fortunately closed, and a file folder, whose contents were now spilled haphazardly across his desk.  He was also going to have to replace his pen; it was still on his desk, but something had broken it.  He hoped the ink stain left behind hadn’t been there long enough to set.

            (Was someone gaslighting him?  Who?  Why?)

            His ear itched.  He internally debated whether to try and ignore the problem, or risk taking off his headphones.

            (And how?)

            That sound echoed in his mind.

            Plip-plod, plip-plod.

***

            Alhaitham happened to run into Lumine and Paimon on his way through Razan Garden.  Purely coincidental, it turned out – they’d been there to handle a request for the Corps of Thirty, while he’d been hunting down a faculty member who’d repeatedly neglected to turn in a critical file, and was rudely ignoring the messages that had been sent to her over the Akasha.

            It was as he mentioned the Akasha that Lumine paused, glanced slightly to one side, then looked back at him, and tapped on her Akasha Terminal.

            It abruptly occurred to him that he had not put his own Akasha Terminal on that morning.

            (That would have been difficult to explain.)

            Alhaitham quietly retrieved his Akasha Terminal from his belt pouch (he hadn’t been so careless as to leave it at home, thankfully), as Paimon chattered on about something or other.  He pushed his headphones up slightly, just enough to insert the Terminal into his left ear.

            He wasn’t fast enough.

            Plip-plod, plip-plod.

            He tried not to react, but was clearly unsuccessful.  Paimon stopped talking mid-sentence, and she and Lumine both gave him confused looks as he pulled his headphones back down.

            “Don’t mind me,” he said, forcing himself not to look in the direction he thought the sound had come from.  “Continue.”

            Paimon did, after a moment, but not before exchanging a glance with Lumine.

            They followed him back to his office, on some flimsy pretense.  He couldn’t find it in himself to argue; he was so tired of that sound following him nearly everywhere he went.  About the only place he could remove his headphones without hearing it anymore was his house, and he was starting to wonder how long even that would last.

            (It hadn’t been this bad just a week ago.  Before, he’d mostly only heard that sound when he was outdoors; now he was hearing it regularly indoors, too.)

            When they arrived in his office, another file folder had fallen onto his desk.

            Alhaitham willed his breath not to shake as he returned the folder to its proper place.

            (It didn’t work.)

            Lumine watched him as he sat down.  “Has something been going on?” she asked slowly.

            He paused.

            (He was so tired of… whatever this was.)

            Lumine and Paimon listened as he talked.

            They shared another look as he described that sound.

            “I think I know what’s going on,” Lumine said, after he’d finished.  “Are you leaving at the usual time today?”

***

            They returned as he was finishing his work for the day.  Lumine shoved a map of Sumeru at him, and indicated a spot in the depths of the forest, northwest of the city.

            “Meet us at the Statue of the Seven here,” she said.  “Also, do you play any instruments?”

***

            The Statue of the Seven Lumine had indicated turned out to be in the middle of what appeared to be… a very small village.

            Alhaitham glanced around as Lumine and Paimon led him past buildings far too small for any human to live in.  The doors looked just tall enough that he could get through them without needing to duck, and the houses themselves mostly seemed to consist of one or two rooms, filled with furniture barely large enough for a human child to use.

            There also didn’t appear to be anyone actually living in this odd village.  The entire place was silent, aside from a few monsters that had set up camp around the strange, too-small houses, which the others ignored.

            They led him to a strange, round rock, with a spiral pattern on one side, and what looked like some kind of miniature tree growing on top.  Paimon told him it was called “Silapna”.

            Lumine took out an old, ragged notebook, flipped through it, and showed him a page with several lines of sheet music, written on hand-drawn staves.  She pointed to the first line, labeled “Rhythm of the Great Dream – Arana”.

            “Play this to Silapna,” she told him.

            Alhaitham didn’t understand why she wanted him to play music to a rock, but took out the lute she’d told him to bring regardless.  He’d realized, by now, that Lumine knew a lot of… unusual… things.

            (It was… convenient, that Kaveh had tried to teach him to play this instrument a while back – though the architect had eventually given up, claiming that nothing he played “sounded right”.  He still didn’t know what his roommate had meant by that, but he’d at least gotten far enough to know how to read sheet music, and Lumine apparently thought it was enough that he could play anything at all.)

            The forest seemed to stir around them as he reached the last note, and the music faded into the sound of leaves in the wind.

            Alhaitham looked up, and blinked.  The sky had suddenly turned a pale shade of violet.

            Paimon tugged on the collar of his cape, and pointed at something behind him.  He turned, and looked.

            Dozens of tiny pairs of eyes stared back at him.

            He blinked again.  “What.”

            “This is Mahavanaranapna,” Lumine said, as the owner of one of the pairs of eyes – a small, round, vaguely plant-like creature, with what appeared to be a large, leafy hat – waddled out of a nearby bush.  “That’s, uh, ‘Vanarana of Great Dreams’.  But Paimon and I usually just call it ‘Dream Vanarana’.”

            He stared, as more, vaguely similar-looking creatures appeared from behind rocks and bushes, on top of trees, and inside the tiny houses (which didn’t seem so strange anymore, now that he knew what their intended occupants looked like).

            The first creature – light brown, with a dark brown “hat”, and… a mustache, for some reason – slowly walked up to them.  Paimon waved as the being (presumably male, judging from the mustache) approached.  “Hi, Araja!”

            The creature – Araja, apparently – raised an arm in greeting.  “Hello again, Paimon, Nara Lumine.”  He paused, and turned to Alhaitham.  “And this Nara is… the new Lord of Dendro?”

            Alhaitham blinked, again.

            Lumine glanced up at him for a moment before responding to the question.  “Yeah.  This is Alhaitham, the Second Dendro Archon.  Alhaitham, this is Araja.”

            She paused, and looked back out at the rest of… Dream Vanarana.

            “And these are the Aranara.”

***

            It was a relief, to finally know that he had not actually been losing his mind over the course of the last few weeks.

            The Aranara, Lumine and Paimon explained, were the “children” and familiars of the first Dendro Archon.  They shared her power over dreams, and Dream Vanarana was, in simple terms, a dream version of the part of the forest – Vanarana – where they had built their homes, created to keep them safe after their previous home had been destroyed in the Cataclysm, five hundred years ago.  Silapna was the “gate” to Dream Vanarana, and each Aranara had a unique song that they used to identify themselves, and thus be permitted entry – a “key”, of sorts.  The tune Lumine had instructed him to play was a “key” belonging to an Aranara she’d met some time back, who had permitted her and Paimon to use it to enter as they pleased.

            Apparently, while the Aranara liked to play with human children, they tended to be wary of adults.  This had not been a problem when Lord Kusanali was the Dendro Archon, given her childlike appearance, on top of the fact that she had created the Aranara in the first place.

            They had evidently been… more cautious… of her replacement.

            As it turned out, the cause of his recent… issues… was in fact the Aranara, who’d caught wind of their creator’s fate, and the ascension of the new Archon.  The Aranara normally avoided human settlements, for obvious reasons, but after hearing of what had happened, they’d taken the risk, and sent some scouts to check on Lord Kusanali’s condition.

            Unsurprisingly, as an Archon’s familiars, they had also quickly identified her successor, and started observing him, as well.  They had, however, perhaps underestimated the difficulty of moving around undetected in an unfamiliar setting… and also their target’s perceptiveness.

            The Aranara had, at least, been quite apologetic, when Lumine and Paimon showed up to ask that they stop unintentionally gaslighting him.  Or at least, he’d been told that they had been.

            They still seemed… a little too wary of him, to say so themselves.

            Lumine had quietly admitted that it had taken… some effort, to convince the Aranara to simply meet him, rather than causing a load of unnecessary stress attempting to dance around the issue.  He was just too different from the kind of people they were used to, it seemed.

            (In all fairness, he couldn’t really disagree with that assessment.  It had been a long time since he’d been a child… and even longer since he’d thought or acted much like one.)

            For what it was worth, the Aranara didn’t actually seem to be afraid of him, at this point; from the way Lumine explained it, it was more that they were… confused, by him.  His view of the world differed too much from theirs for them to fully understand – but at the same time, they felt that they should understand him, since he was the Dendro Archon.

            The Aranara didn’t normally concern themselves with such things, apparently.  They simply had no idea how to handle it.

            In any case, they had, eventually, more or less accepted Lumine and Paimon’s assurances that the new Dendro Archon wouldn’t be so easily offended, and that they didn’t have to act any differently around him than they did around anyone else they were willing to show themselves to.  He was just another “Nara” – their word for humans – as far as they needed to be concerned.

            Of course, accepting that fact wasn’t the same thing as acting upon it.

            They were trying, at least; that much was clear.  They weren’t outright avoiding him, and they seemed comfortable enough talking to him when prompted.  A few were curious to see if he knew any other songs; he played a few more of the simple tunes from Lumine’s notebook, which they seemed to like, despite his obvious inexperience with his instrument.

            But there was still a noticeable difference in their behavior, compared to how they acted around Lumine and Paimon.

            He noticed the slightly slower speech, the larger distance they kept as they walked past.  He noticed the flashes of movement behind various objects as he looked in their direction.

            Even through the childlike diction, the constant, unchanging smiles, it was obvious that they were still… cautious, of interacting with him.

            “They don’t hate you or anything,” Lumine assured him.  “They don’t even understand the concept of hatred, really.  They’re just also really careful about fully trusting anyone, after what happened to Old Vanarana.  It wasn’t easy for us to get this close to them, either.”

            Alhaitham watched as several Aranara flew by (how exactly were those propellers on their “hats” attached to the rest of their bodies?), with Paimon not far behind.  They seemed to be playing some kind of game.

            “It’s fine,” he said.  “I don’t care what anybody thinks of me.”

            (The Gnosis had no reaction.  That was enough.)

***

            There was fire everywhere.

            A shower of flaming feathers rained down from above.  He dodged, but a few passed too close, catching his clothes on fire.  Pyro crept up his torso, burning even as he dropped to the ground and rolled to smother the flames.

            There was a screech in the distance.  A massive red-and-orange blur flew at him from out of seemingly nowhere.

            Enormous talons flew through the space he had occupied just moments earlier, slamming into the metal floor with a deafening BANG.

            There was another screech as he got to his feet and ran.

            (Why was there a Consecrated Beast inside this building?)

            The beast flew at him again, slashing at him with its massive, unnaturally-sharp beak, and wings wreathed in Pyro.  Razor-like feathers audibly sliced through the air.

            He tried to summon his weapons.  They didn’t appear.

            He tried to channel Dendro.  The energy sputtered and died on his fingertips.

            (Where was this place?)

            Another screech, as the mutated avian spun in place.  Fiery wings swept by, dangerously close, nearly knocking him over even as he dodged out of the way.  Scorching air filled his throat and lungs, residual Pyro burning slowly inside him.

            (… was he dreaming?)

            There was a door up ahead, too small for the beast to fit through.  He ran into the next room, forcing himself not to look back as the monster crashed into the wall behind him.

            Silence.

            Then, another ear-splitting screech.

            The bird smashed through the wall with another BANG.  He instinctively looked over his shoulder – only to see that the beast had somehow already caught up to him.

            The massive talons clamped down around his chest, and slammed him to the ground.

            He looked up.

            A featureless, armored face stared down at him.

            Another screech.

            The enormous, bony beak shot downwards.

            (Wake up.)

            It speared past him, barely missing, slamming into the floor with a BANG.

            It rose, and descended again.

            (He needed to wake up.)

            BANG.

            Again.

            BANG.

            (Why couldn’t he wake up?)

            BANG.

            BANG.

            BANG.

            The beak rose again.

            (Why couldn’t he – )

            The beast screeched again, mere centimeters from his face.

            Pyro flooded over him.

            (Why couldn’t – )

            Everything burned.

            (Why – )

            The beak descended, straight through his –

            Alhaitham woke up.

            He sat bolt upright, gasping for breath.

            His chest burned.

            (… of course.)

            He took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing himself to ignore the phantom heat in his respiratory tract, and buried his face in one hand.  His face was drenched in sweat.

            (Not again.)

            He took another breath, lowered his hand, and turned on his lamp to check the clock.

            It was just past eleven.

            (Great.  He’d hoped to actually sleep that night, too.)

            He paused, then slowly got out of bed.

            (Maybe drinking some water would help.)

            Alhaitham left his room, stumbling slightly as Dendro flared for a moment, and started to feel his way through the darkness to the kitchen.  It was… not actually as dark as he would have expected, at this hour, for some reason.

            He paused as he noticed the light coming from the other bedroom.

            A voice drifted out through the partially-open door, interspersed with the sharp, repeating BANG of a hammer on nails.

            Alhaitham gave the doorway a flat look, and sighed.

            (Kaveh had returned from his trip to the desert that afternoon, still riding the high of a newly-finished project.  It… wasn’t unusual, for him to get a flood of new ideas right after one job had been completed, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.)

            For what it was worth, the light at least made it easier to see the contents of his cabinets once he’d made it to the kitchen.  He found a glass, and went to go fill it at the sink.

            He’d just turned on the water when he heard a faint noise.

            Plip, plod.  Plip, plod.

            Alhaitham blinked, and looked up.

            (… again?  In his house?)

            He blinked again as water splashed onto his hand.

            (That couldn’t be right.  He must have imagined it.)

            He looked back at the sink, turned off the faucet, and emptied some of the water from the now-overflowing glass.

            He turned to head back to his bedroom – and nearly tripped over the small, round thing that had suddenly appeared just inside the kitchen’s entrance.

            The startled creature fell over backwards with a slightly comical squeak.

            Alhaitham stared.

            (… or maybe he hadn’t imagined it.)

            “Ah!”  The Aranara flailed a little as it sat back up, the propeller-like leaves on its head seeming to shrink and quiver slightly as it looked up at him.  “A-Aradish is very sorry!  Please do not be angry, Lord of – ”

            The Aranara – Aradish, apparently? – abruptly stopped talking as a nearby dish towel was suddenly dropped onto its face.

            It wasn’t polite, but there wasn’t really a better way to quickly get the message across, given the rather significant height difference.

            Alhaitham glanced in the direction of his roommate’s bedroom, and slowly bent down to retrieve the dish towel as the various sounds coming from the room continued.

            (Good.  Kaveh didn’t seem to have heard that.)

            “Sorry.  Don’t talk so loudly.”

            “O-oh… Aradish is sorry, too.  Aradish did not know other Nara were sleeping in Lord of Dendro’s home.”

            (… close enough.)

            Alhaitham dropped the towel into the sink to be washed later, then turned back to the tiny intruder.  It was one of the round, vaguely potato-shaped Aranara; the color was a little hard to discern in the dark, but it seemed to be a very light shade of green, almost white, with a slightly darker green “hat”, and a propeller made up of three large, wavy leaves.  “I was told the Aranara preferred to avoid adults.  I also recall that it was deemed unnecessary to continue… observing me.  Given that the Akademiya is connected to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, I can see why some of you would still be around there, but why have you come into my house?”

            Aradish seemed to shrink a little at the question.  “Aradish is sorry.  Aradish was visiting first Lord of Dendro, and felt something wrong.  Felt like the forest was angry.  So Aradish came to see what problem was.”

            Alhaitham blinked as he attempted to process this statement.  “I… see.”  He paused for a moment as the Gnosis flared again – not as much as before, but still enough to burn.  “And that led you here?”

            (“The forest was angry” probably referred to all the Dendro coming out of the Gnosis.)

            “Yes.  Aradish was surprised, too.  But Aradish saw Lord of Dendro having bad dream, and wanted to help.  Window was open, so Aradish was able to come in.  But… Aradish made mistake with Ararakalari, and woke up Lord of Dendro instead.”

            “… ‘instead’?”

            (What was… “Ararakalari”?)

            “Aradish wanted to make the bad dream go away, so Lord of Dendro would have good dream.  But Aradish was not careful enough, and made entire dream go away, so Lord of Dendro woke up.  Aradish is sorry.”

            “… it’s fine.  I’m probably better off awake than still sleeping, anyway.”

            As if on cue, Dendro pulsed again.

            (There was little sense attempting to continue sleeping, when doing so would most likely only lead to another nightmare.)

            Aradish stared for a moment, tilting his head – or at least, the upper part of his body – slightly to one side.  “Aradish does not understand.  Does Lord of Dendro…”  A pause.  “Oh, maybe Aradish does understand.  Does Lord of Dendro often have bad dreams?”

            “… I suppose… that wouldn’t be inaccurate.”

            (Like every other adult living in Sumeru City, he hadn’t dreamed at all in years, until just a couple of months ago.  In that context, suddenly having nightmares every night for a week on end would probably qualify as “often”.)

            “Aradish understands.  First Lord of Dendro had many bad dreams, too.  Especially after first Lord of Dendro became small, and when forest was angry.  First Lord of Dendro could talk to Aranara from very far away, so Aranara knew.”

            (… that… wasn’t surprising, honestly.)

            “But first Lord of Dendro also had many good dreams!  And the forest was not always angry.  So Aradish thinks Lord of Dendro can have good dreams, too.”

            “… Is that so?”

            “Yes!  Golden Nara and Paimon said Lord of Dendro is good Nara.  Aranara watched, and Aranara think Lord of Dendro is… strange, but not bad Nara.  And good Nara should have good dreams, so Aradish thinks Lord of Dendro will have good dreams!”

            (Maybe if others thought that way, too.  Unfortunately, he’d spent quite a few of the last several nights working, after fleeing some other fire- and pain-filled dreamscape the Gnosis had caused his mind to inflict upon itself, and he’d overheard a fair number of students and scholars expressing some… rather unpleasant… opinions, in response to their own underestimation of the time needed to do research without the convenient shortcut that was the Akasha.  He still didn’t care what any of them thought of him, of course.)

            Dendro flared again.

            (The Gnosis, on the other hand, had been… displeased.)

            BANG.

            Alhaitham looked up as the noise echoed from Kaveh’s room – slightly quieter at this distance, but still sharp.

            (Yet another reason it was pointless to try going back to sleep.)

            Aradish looked up as well.  He tilted his head again at the noise.  “How strange.  Aradish has never heard Nara make noise like that while asleep.”

            Alhaitham let out an amused breath, despite himself.  “Kaveh isn’t asleep, and probably won’t be for some time.  He’ll likely sleep through most of the day tomorrow, instead.”

            “Oh?  Does Nara Kaveh not like to sleep at night?”

            “He has… a little too much energy, at the moment.  He’ll sleep once he calms down.”

            “Aradish does not understand.  Lord of Dendro is like Aranara, does not need sleep.  But Nara Kaveh is not like Aranara.  Does Nara Kaveh also not need sleep?”

            “He does, in theory.  But it can be hard to tell, sometimes.”

            “… Aradish… is not sure if Aradish understands.  Aradish thinks Nara Kaveh is… also strange, but not same kind of strange as Lord of Dendro.”

            “Most humans are strange in their own ways.  I wouldn’t think too hard about it.”

            Another tilt of the head.  “Aradish is still confused.  But Aradish thinks Aradish knows what Lord of Dendro means.  Aradish does not understand why Arapacati’s brothers put food on top of fire before eating, but that is okay.  So if Aradish does not understand why Nara do things Aradish thinks are strange, that is also okay.”

            (He recalled the group of Aranara he’d seen clustered around a cooking pot.  He could see why a race of plant-like forest spirits would find such a thing strange, given the usual result of exposing Dendro to Pyro.)

            “Oh, Aradish knows!  Loud noise is like noise big bird made in Lord of Dendro’s dream.  So if loud noise stops, then maybe Lord of Dendro will not dream about noise anymore.”

            Alhaitham blinked.  “That makes sense, yes.”

            “And Nara Kaveh is making loud noise, so if Nara Kaveh sleeps, then noise will stop!”

            “… logically, yes.”

            “So, if Nara Kaveh sleeps, then Lord of Dendro can also sleep!  Aradish is very smart!  Okay, Aradish will go make Nara Kaveh sleep now!”

            Alhaitham blinked again, but before he could say or do anything in response, Aradish had already disappeared.

            The noises continued.

            BANG.

            BANG.

            Bang.

            Bang.

            Bang…

            Silence.

            Then, a barely-audible snore.

            When Alhaitham had drained his glass, and Aradish still had not returned, he decided to go ahead and return to his room.  There was most likely a limit to how far an Aranara could go from someone they were causing to dream, before the dream would be disrupted.

            (He… still wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to risk going back to sleep, but he didn’t feel like going to work right now, either.  He’d probably just read for the rest of the night.)

            He took a quick detour to turn off the light in Kaveh’s room, and to confirm that his roommate was, in fact, asleep.  Aradish was nowhere to be seen – probably hiding, just in case Kaveh did wake up unexpectedly.

            Passing back through the living room, Alhaitham paused as his eyes fell on the bowl of near-overripe Zaytun Peaches Kaveh had left on the living room table, in an attempt to increase the number that would be eaten before they inevitably became inedible.  They’d been heavily discounted, apparently, and despite having substantial personal experience with overspending on ostensible bargains, the architect had still wound up buying far more of the fruit than two people could reasonably consume in time, after the seller had spun some tale about needing to pay some kind of debt or other.  Kaveh hadn’t seemed to remember most of the details.

            (Did Aranara eat fruit?  Aradish had mentioned that they ate, but not what they ate.  He had seen Lumine giving various fruits to some of the Aranara back in Vanarana…)

            Alhaitham took two peaches from the bowl, then carefully felt his way back to his room.  The last thing he needed was to accidentally wake Kaveh by tripping over something or other.

            Reaching his room, Alhaitham set the peaches under his still-open window, and pulled a book from his bookcase more or less at random.

            He started to sit down in the armchair in one corner, then paused.

            (His breath was still hot, though the Gnosis itself no longer burned.  But he did still want to get more than just one or two hours of undisturbed sleep at some point…)

            He sat down on his bed, instead.

            (The air was pleasantly cool – a welcome change from the heat and humidity that were more typical of rainforest nights.)

            He paused again.

            (Maybe he’d lie down and close his eyes for a while…)

***

            When Alhaitham opened his eyes again, it was light out.  His book lay on his nightstand, unopened and forgotten.

            The Zaytun Peaches under his window were gone.

Chapter Text

            “The theater’s going to be demolished?!”

            Lumine and Paimon stared, slack-jawed, at the bespectacled man who’d suddenly barged into the Grand Bazaar, while the members of Zubayr Theater had been celebrating the success of their Coronation Day performance.  Said theater members also stared, as Sheikh Zubayr read over the official-looking document that had been shoved into his hands.

            “There must be some mistake.”  Sheikh Zubayr’s expression was blank with disbelief.  “Why would the Akademiya be ordering the theater’s demolition now?  I specifically checked that all of our permits were valid the week before Coronation Day, and the laws against artistic performances were repealed months ago.”

            “That is none of your concern,” the scholar – Sharif, if Lumine had heard correctly – said blandly.  “In any case, I’m sure you are well aware that Zubayr Theater has long disregarded the Akademiya’s policies and orders.  It has been decided that there must be consequences.”

            “But that’s ridiculous!” someone exclaimed from the crowd.  “The policies you’re talking about don’t even exist anymore – how can you – ”

            “Don’t waste your breath arguing with me, little boy.  Whatever ignorant opinion you have, the Akademiya’s decision is final.”

            Lumine blinked, and finally managed to find her voice.  “He has to be lying,” she said blankly.  “There’s no way anyone currently in power approved any of this.”

            “Yeah,” Nilou agreed.  “But… those papers…”

            “He must have made them up!” Paimon said angrily.  “That big, fat liar – he’s probably just some stuck-up old jerk who hates art!”

            Meanwhile, Sheikh Zubayr was still trying to reason with Sharif.  “Even if this order did come from the Akademiya, thirty days’ notice is far too little for what you’re asking of us, and clearly against established policy.  Something like this would require at least ninety days’ notice, to give adequate time for us to notify our customers and – ”

            “That is none of my concern.  Perhaps you should stop wasting time with this frivolous argument, and instead reflect on why you have failed to prepare for this scenario.”

            “This is entirely unreasonable.  We will not accept any of this.”

            “Say or do what you want, then.  You’ve been given more than enough notice; it makes no difference to me, if you’d rather squander that time asking pointless questions – ”

            “Enough of this!  Does your audacity know no limits, Father?!”

            The Bazaar fell silent for a moment, as everyone turned to the source of the interruption.

            The young woman Lumine and Paimon had seen making props earlier – Inayah – glared furiously at the intruding scholar.  “Akademiya this, Akademiya that.  The Akademiya doesn’t have anything to do with this, does it?  You’re just using their name to threaten us, because you don’t like Zubayr Theater!”

            Paimon blinked.  “Wait, ‘Father’?  That’s her dad?”

            Nilou nodded as Inayah continued to shout at… her father.  “Yeah.  I don’t know much about him, though, except that he and Inayah didn’t get along.  I met her after she ran away from home, and brought her to Zubayr Theater… I never thought it would turn out like this.”

            “Huh.  Well if he acts like this all the time, then no wonder she ran away.  Paimon barely knows him, and Paimon already hates him.”

            Meanwhile, Inayah’s rant continued.  “Let me tell you, Father – none of this will change anything.  Even I never thought you would ever sink this low, but you were always awful, and you still are!”

            “This has nothing to do with where you are, what you do, or what you think,” Sharif said coldly.  “It is strictly business.  Now then, I don’t intend to waste any more time on this pointless argument; if you have not all been irrevocably blinded by folly, then you will wrap up all of this nonsense and prepare to shut down at once.”

            And with that, he turned and walked out of the Grand Bazaar without another word.

            The silence that followed was deafening.

            Finally, Inayah threw her hands up in frustration.  “For the love of Lord Kusanali!  Why is he always like this?!”

            Lumine, Paimon, and Nilou all stared at the doors Sharif had left through.  The sound of them closing still seemed to echo through the Bazaar.

            “Some people just don’t know when to quit,” Lumine said flatly.

***

            “Are they really shutting the theater down?!  But why?!”

            “Who knows?  The Akademiya has always been like this…”

            Lumine listened as the small group of people who’d joined her, Paimon, Nilou, and Inayah near one of the Grand Bazaar’s many market stalls  – Jut, Hushang, Farhad, and Afshin – continued to talk, trying to make sense of what had just taken place.  Throughout the rest of the Bazaar, other members of Zubayr Theater were also working through the immediate fallout of the sudden announcement; Sheikh Zubayr was talking with some others about how to handle the refunds that would need to be given to customers who’d already purchased tickets for upcoming shows, and several other theater members were quietly packing up props, scripts, and other such materials that had been lying around.

            There was no trace of the celebratory atmosphere that had filled the Bazaar not even half an hour earlier.

            “I’m really sorry about this,” Inayah said, eyes fixed firmly on the ground.  “My father’s always been horrible, but I never imagined he’d come after the theater just to spite me…”

            “Don’t be ridiculous,” Hushang said with a wave of his hand.  “It’s hardly your fault that the Akademiya’s full of stuck-up fossils who wouldn’t know how to touch grass if you shoved it under their feet.  It’s not like they’ve never given the theater trouble before.”

            “This is the first time any of them have been so… brazen, about it, though,” Farhad said slowly.  “With all the recent changes…”

            “Isn’t there anything we can do?” Jut asked.  “We can’t just let them get away with this!”

            “Not easily, I imagine.  Even if it’s obviously against their own policies, the Akademiya does still run Sumeru.”

            “Actually, it probably would be pretty easy,” Paimon said with a shrug.  “All we have to do is tell the Archon about it.”

            The others all fell silent for a moment.  Lumine could swear she heard a pin drop.

            “The… Archon?” Afshin repeated.  “You mean Lord Idris?”

            “Well, yeah.  He leads the Akademiya, right?  And he got rid of all those dumb laws and stuff against the arts, because they were a huge waste of time.  Paimon bets he’ll be super mad to hear that some guy’s out causing trouble like this.”

            Lumine stifled a laugh at that statement.  “Super mad” was probably an exaggeration; the Second Dendro Archon, while often exasperated by the antics of those around him, was actually rather difficult to seriously anger.

            That being said, he would certainly not be pleased at the blatant act of insubordination.

            “Um…”  Nilou fidgeted a little with her hair.  “Are you sure we should do that?  I mean, I’m not doubting him or anything, but… I feel like maybe we shouldn’t bother him with such a trivial problem…”

            “He probably wouldn’t do anything, anyway,” Hushang grumbled.

            Lumine blinked and looked at him.  She saw Paimon do the same, and Nilou go very still.

            Afshin cleared his throat, a little awkwardly.  “Uh, maybe you shouldn’t say such things, Hushang.  This is the Archon we’re talking about…”

            Hushang rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, I know.  But do you really think he’d care what’s going on here?  All he’s done so far is hide from everyone, and give orders through other people.”

            “Wha – that’s not true!” Paimon said indignantly.  “Yeah, he’s kind of weird and quiet, but Lord Idris has been working really hard!  He’s gotten lots of things done!”

            “Eh… well yeah, I guess he did change a bunch of laws and stuff.  And there’s that whole reading and math thing.  I mean, don’t get me wrong – I agree that people need to learn that stuff – but it’s not really going anywhere fast, you know?”

            Lumine forced herself not to wince at his tone.  She hoped Alhaitham wasn’t nearby.

            It wasn’t his fault people didn’t want to learn, but the Gnosis wouldn’t care about that – and it didn’t sound like Hushang did, either.

            “He’s got a point,” Jut said, glancing away uncomfortably.  “There was that booth that lady from the Akademiya set up here for a while, to try and get people to sign up for reading and writing classes.  But most people just ignored her, and some people intentionally went and made a mess… she yelled at those guys, but that didn’t really stop them.  And there were a bunch of people making fun of her for wanting to be called ‘Madam’, when she wasn’t around…”

             “Yeah, see what I mean?”  Hushang waved a hand again.  “The new Archon’s got good ideas, and I’m sure he’s real smart and all, but he hasn’t exactly given anyone a reason to count on him doing anything, or solving any problems.”

            Nilou looked at him for a moment, then looked away, fidgeting some more.  “I… I think that’s a little unfair.”

            “Huh?”

            “I don’t think it’s really fair to… to talk about Lord Idris that way.  I mean, it’s not like… it’s not like it’d be better if he was going around forcing everyone to listen to him, right?  Then he’d just be like the old Sages, and people like Inayah’s father.  And he’s probably still figuring out a lot of things as he goes right now, with how fast stuff’s been happening…”

            Hushang scoffed.  “You’re too nice about this, Nilou.  This is an Archon we’re talking about, not just some random guy.  I think we can expect more from a god.”

            Lumine and Paimon shared a glance.

            If only he knew.

            “Alright, Hushang, let’s not argue amongst ourselves here,” Farhad cut in.  “And really, if our friends here think it might help to bring this to Lord Idris’s attention, it’s certainly worth a try.  I doubt it’d make things worse, and we don’t exactly have any better ideas at the moment.”

            “It’d be a waste of time, though,” Inayah said quietly.  She still hadn’t looked up from the ground.  “If we don’t think it’ll actually work, then why bother?”

            Lumine resisted the urge to put her face in her hands.

            Paimon sighed.  “Alright, fine.  We won’t tell the Archon, if everyone’s going to be so negative about it.  Let’s tell the Acting Grand Sage, then – Paimon thinks he’d be pretty mad to hear about this, too!”

            “I hear the Acting Grand Sage is a jerk, though,” Hushang muttered.

            Lumine gave him a flat look.

            She was starting to want to punch him.

            “Now, let’s not assume things based on hearsay,” Farhad said, placing a large hand on Hushang’s shoulder.  He looked up at Paimon.  “From the way you suggested that, it sounds like you’ve actually met the Acting Grand Sage?”

            Paimon nodded.  “Yeah!  He’s, um… well, okay, he can be a little mean sometimes.  But he’s not a bad person, and he totally wouldn’t approve of Inayah’s dad making stuff up to get the theater shut down!”

            “I see.  In that case, why don’t you speak with him, and see if – ”

            “Hold on,” Inayah said, looking up for just a moment.  “The Acting Grand Sage… isn’t that the Archon’s proxy?  Wasn’t he the Scribe?”

            Lumine looked at her for a moment, wondering if it was really a good idea to answer that question.  “… yes.  He was.”

            “Oh… I met him once, when I was still studying at the Akademiya.  He was… pretty intimidating…”

            … I shouldn’t have answered that question.

            “It’s okay!” Paimon said quickly.  “Lumine and Paimon know him really well – you guys can just wait here, and we’ll go talk to him!”

            “Well… I suppose, but would he really care enough to help?  From what I remember, he doesn’t like people giving him trouble, or extra work…”

            “Your father is creating trouble right now, isn’t he?” Lumine pointed out.  “If Zubayr Theater didn’t do anything wrong, then he’s the one causing problems, not anyone here.”

            “… I still don’t know about this…”

            Paimon let out an annoyed huff.  “Okay, then what should we do?  Paimon guesses we could talk to the other Sages… what Darshan is your dad from again?”

            “… Vahumana.”

            “Oh!  That’s good, Vahumana still has a Sage!  Zaman, right?  Um, we’ve only actually met him a couple of times, but he seemed like an okay guy.  Though we’ll probably still have to talk to the Acting Grand Sage first, in order to find any of the other Sages…”

            “Hold on,” Hushang cut in.  “Why exactly are we talking about going to anyone from the Akademiya about this, again?  Aren’t they the ones causing us problems in the first place?”

            Paimon looked she’d only just resisted the urge to try and slap him.  “No!  Inayah’s dad is the one causing problems, not the Akademiya!  Are you even listening to anything right now?  Even Paimon knows Inayah said that!”

            “Still,” Afshin said slowly, “the Akademiya has caused Zubayr Theater a lot of problems in the past, even if this isn’t actually coming from them.  They’ve been leaving the theater alone for the last few months, so maybe we shouldn’t draw their attention…”

            Paimon stared at him for a few seconds, then threw up her hands and stomped the air in frustration.  “Aargh, fine!  Paimon gives up!  If no one wants to talk to anyone who can actually do something, then Paimon won’t help come up with ideas!”

            With that, the fairy turned and flew away.

            Lumine followed her.

            After that whole conversation, she was getting dangerously close to an outburst, herself.

            They found a quiet corner, near the stage, to continue talking.  Paimon stomped the air again.  “Aagh, Paimon’s so mad!  Did any of those guys even want to stop Inayah’s dumb dad from destroying the theater?!”

            “Calm down,” Lumine said, as much to herself as to Paimon.  “I’m frustrated, too, but we’ll only create more problems trying to solve something like this while angry.”

            Paimon huffed.  “Yeah, you’re probably right… but what should we do, then?  Do you think we should just go find someone anyway?”

            “Maybe.  There’s no sense sitting around while the theater gets shut down because no one wants to try the obvious solution…”

            Paimon nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but another voice interrupted her before she could say anything.  “Lumine, Paimon.  Are the two of you okay?”

            Paimon blinked, and turned towards the voice.  “Oh!  Hi Nilou!  You followed us here?”

            Nilou nodded.  “Yeah.  You seemed… pretty upset.”

            Paimon sighed.  “Yeah, Paimon was getting pretty mad.  It was really annoying that everyone kept saying stuff wouldn’t work, or whatever.”  She paused.  “But it’s okay!  Lumine and Paimon know the people in charge wouldn’t let Inayah’s dad pick on you guys like this, so we’ll just go tell them anyway!”

            “Um… well, I guess, if you really want to…”

            Paimon blinked again.  “What’s wrong, Nilou?”

            Nilou looked away, tracing a loop on the floor with one foot.  “It’s just… maybe you really shouldn’t.”

            “Huh?  But why not?  A – Lord Idris wouldn’t – “

            “No, no, not because of – not because of Lord Idris!  I know he’d fix this easily, but… it’s just, if the Dendro Archon intervenes, and fixes everything… it wouldn’t feel like we really earned our victory, you know?”

            Paimon hesitated for a moment.  “Well… Paimon guesses that’s true…”

            “Right, and… well, it just doesn’t seem very fair for us to expect the Archon to solve all of our problems for us, with everything else that’s going on right now.  Just now, the others were saying that we have to count on ourselves, and solve our own problems, and… I know they don’t know what things are really like, but… maybe they’re right about that part.  Lord Idris is already dealing with a million other things; the least we can do in return is try and handle the smaller stuff ourselves, right?”

            Paimon hesitated again, then sighed.  “… yeah, you do have a point… Paimon doesn’t like it, though.  Paimon doesn’t like, um… you know… that much either, but it makes Paimon mad that everyone’s acting like it’s his fault stuff isn’t getting done, when the real problem is that people just don’t want to listen to him.”

            “Yeah, I know what you mean.  I saw him here just a few days ago, and he looked really tired; it made me kind of sad, to hear people saying that he isn’t doing anything.”  Nilou paused, her expression brightening after a moment.  “But that just makes it more important for us to help him out where we can, right?  Even if this is just a small problem, compared to everything else, handling it ourselves will still make his job easier.  Every little bit counts, after all.”

            “That’s true…”  Paimon sighed again.  “Okay, well, if that’s what everyone wants, then Paimon guesses we’ll go along with it, too.  So what can we do by ourselves…?”

            Lumine listened as Nilou and Paimon started bouncing some ideas around.  While she still thought the easier solution made more sense, Nilou’s reasoning seemed sound enough, and continuing to argue over which method was better would likely just be a waste of time.

            But even so, she couldn’t help but feel that there was something they were missing.

***

            Inayah stared up at the Akademiya’s front doors.

            After some discussion, it had been decided that Zubayr Theater would contest the order for its demolition in a debate between Inayah’s father and Nilou.  The central argument for the aforementioned order, as laid out in the papers given to Sheikh Zubayr, was that, as a venue for artistic performances, the theater was of no value to the Nation of Wisdom.  As such, the others had reasoned, if this point could be refuted, then the “Akademiya’s” order held no water, and would have to be thrown out.

            A Nation of Wisdom had no place for baseless assertions, after all.

            It was a reasonable argument, and there hadn’t really been any better ideas for saving the theater.  Despite some initial uncertainty, everyone had ultimately given their support.

            All they had to do now, was issue the challenge.

            Inayah paused, and glanced back over her shoulder.  Nilou, Lumine, and Paimon waved to her from the edge of the plaza; they’d come with her as a show of support, but the rest of this errand was something best done by herself.

            It’ll be fine, she told herself.  The others all think this will work.  And even if it doesn’t, it’ll be better to have tried, than to have just given up.

            She still wasn’t… entirely convinced, that Nilou could beat her father in a debate.  He was an Akademiya scholar, after all – a fairly high-ranking one, at that – while Nilou was just a dancer.  But everyone else seemed willing to believe in this idea, and Nilou herself had made a surprisingly strong argument in favor of at least making the attempt.  She, Lumine, and Paimon had even gone out of their way to track Inayah down after the latter had decided that leaving the theater would be the simpler solution, given that she was her father’s true target, and convince her that she didn’t need to martyr herself for everyone else’s sake.

            It had been a long time, since Inayah had last allowed herself to feel hope.

            She supposed this was as good a time as any to try doing so again.

            Inayah took a deep breath, and started towards those imposing doors.  The doors she’d never thought she’d willingly pass through again, after… everything.

            This time, she would not run away.

***

            Thirty minutes later, Inayah left her father’s office.  As expected, her father had accepted their challenge with little in the way of resistance.  The debate would be held in Zubayr Theater, in two days’ time.

            She failed to notice the flash of green and black fabric disappearing around a corner.

***

            “Hey, you three!  Anyone want some Biryani?”

            Lumine, Paimon, and Nilou looked up from the notes they’d been reviewing, to see Jut approaching the table they were seated at with three to-go boxes.  “Oh!” Nilou said, as he set the containers down in front of them.  “Did you make all this just for us?  You didn’t have to do that, Mr. Jut!  You already gave us Tahchin yesterday – ”

            “Oh, don’t worry about it,” Jut said with a laugh.  “You’ve been here preparing for the debate all afternoon; all the scholarly types who come by are always talking about how hungry they get when they’ve been thinking hard about stuff, so you three must be starving by now.  Some guys canceled their order – had to leave in a hurry, or something – and their food’s just going to get thrown out if it sits around much longer; you all might as well have it.”

            “Wow, thanks!”  Paimon opened one of the boxes, and took a long whiff of its contents.  “This smells so good, Paimon can’t wait to actually taste it!”

            Another laugh.  “I hope you enjoy!  So, how are the debate preparations going?  Ready for tomorrow afternoon, Nilou?”

            “Um, I think so!”  Nilou paused as she took a box from the stack.  “We’re just going back over the things Inayah’s father will likely say to counter our arguments right now.  I think I have our counters to his counters more or less down at this point, so…”

            “Nilou’s doing great!” Paimon said around a mouthful of rice.  She took a moment to swallow before continuing.  “That big jerk’s going to be really embarrassed tomorrow!”

            “Good to hear!  Anyone feeling nervous?”

            “Um… a little bit, yeah.”  Nilou fiddled a bit with a lock of her hair.  “But not any more than I usually am before any kind of performance, so I think it’s okay.  A debate is really just a different kind of performance, isn’t it?”

            “That’s one way to look at it,” Lumine said with a slight nod.  “And I agree with Paimon; you’re doing really well, for how quickly this was all put together.”

            “Oh… thanks, you two.  And thanks for helping me study and practice; you’re always running around doing so many different things, so I really appreciate you taking time to help the theater out with all this.”

            “It’s no trouble.  We’re pretty used to running into things like this, honestly.”

            Jut smiled.  “Well, I’m glad it sounds like you’re all doing alright; I’ll be sure to stop by and watch tomorrow.  It looks like you’re still working on a few things, though, so I’ll go ahead and leave you to…”

            Lumine blinked and looked up as the spice merchant’s voice trailed off.  “Jut?  Is something…?”

            Jut was looking at something off in the distance.  Lumine traced his line of sight with her own eyes, and saw that a small crowd had gathered near Zubayr Theater.

            “Huh.”  Paimon swallowed another mouthful of food.  “What’s going on over there?”

            “I’m not sure.”  Jut paused, squinted a little, and frowned.  “I think someone said… the Acting Grand Sage is here?”

***

            When Nilou finally managed to squeeze her way past the crowd, to get close enough to the center to see what was going on, Sheikh Zubayr was once again reading over some kind of official-looking document – though this one seemed much shorter than the one Inayah’s father had presented the previous morning.

            The Acting Grand Sage – Alhaitham – the Archon – stood in front of him, arms crossed, apparently waiting for the other man to finish reading.

            “Why is the Grand Sage here?” someone hissed, somewhere in the crowd.

            “I don’t know,” another voice whispered back.  “I hope the Akademiya isn’t causing even more trouble…”

            “Ugh, they probably are.  I bet they chickened out and decided to cancel the debate…”

            Nilou blinked.

            That… doesn’t sound right.  Alhaitham shouldn’t have even known any of this was going on; he wouldn’t have approved the demolition order.  Why would Inayah’s father have told him about the debate?

            The whispering stopped as Sheikh Zubayr cleared his throat, having apparently reached the end of the document.  “I… this is all very sudden, Grand – Acting Grand Sage.  I’d just like to be sure I’m not misinterpreting anything, after…”

            Alhaitham shrugged without unfolding his arms.  “Alright.  Since I’d rather not waste our time reiterating things you already understand, what is your current interpretation?”

            “Er… I believe this says the debate that was going to be held tomorrow afternoon was scheduled without proper authorization, and has thus been canceled…”

            “I knew it,” someone muttered darkly from the crowd.

            “… and that the order for Zubayr Theater’s shutdown and demolition, filed yesterday morning, has similarly been rescinded for lack of authorization.”

            The crowd went silent.

            “Wait, what?” came the voice from a moment ago, louder this time.

            “And…”  Sheikh Zubayr paused, eyes scanning back over some part of the document.  “I believe this last paragraph says… Zubayr Theater’s permits have been reviewed and confirmed valid, and cannot be revoked as long as none of the laws on this list have been violated.  Theater operations cannot be forcibly halted as long as all required permits remain valid and none of the specified laws are violated, barring exigent circumstances.  Any attempt to defy this order will be considered an act of gross insubordination, and dealt with accordingly.”

            “Wait, what?”  That same voice again.

            Alhaitham shrugged again.  “That more or less sums up the critical points.  The rest of it is essentially just details; I’m sure you can work through those on your own time, now that you know the general meaning.”

            Nilou blinked again.  She squeezed past the few remaining people in front of her, ran up to Sheikh Zubayr, and reached for the paper in his hands.  “Excuse me.”

            Sheikh Zubayr glanced at her for a moment, then loosened his hold on the document, allowing her to take it from him.

            Nilou felt green-and-red eyes watching her as she looked over the sheet of paper.  It was an official order from the Akademiya, straight from the Office of the Grand Sage.  There were a lot of complicated-looking words, but the general meaning did seem to be what had been said.

            Her eyes fell on the three signatures at the bottom of the page, each accompanied by an elaborate-looking seal, stamped in bright red ink, and the names and titles printed below them.

            General Mahamatra Cyno.

            Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham.

            The Second Dendro Archon, Lord Idris.

            Nilou stared.

            Even with her limited understanding of government-related things… she knew what those signatures and seals meant.

            This order was effectively untouchable.

            She blinked, again.  “This – you – the theater – ”

            “There’s no need to be so surprised,” Alhaitham said matter-of-factly.  “It’s honestly ridiculous that all of this even had to be put into an official order, but apparently some people needed the reminder.”

            Nilou looked up at him and stared.  “But – something like this… you didn’t have to – ”

            “Don’t get the wrong idea; this isn’t some kind of favor.  The last thing I need right now is some idiot going on a power trip and making a fool of himself in the Akademiya’s name.”  He paused, and sighed.  “And if I might be honest, you really should have just reported this mess to someone in the first place, rather than making a whole production of it.  This could have been dealt with in an hour, if I’d known of it before that idiot Sharif got around to filing all the papers that couldn’t be processed until he’d presented that falsified order.  But since he had time to do that, it took all day just to track down all the documents, question everyone involved…”

            “A-ah… I understand…”

            “So… wait.”  Nilou glanced in the direction of the voice, and was slightly surprised to see Inayah standing at the front of the crowd.  “That’s it, then?  The debate’s canceled, and… and that’s that?”

            Another shrug.  “As far as any of you need to be concerned, yes.”

            “Uh, okay… and, uh, what’s going to happen to…?”

            “Sharif?  The Akademiya will deal with him; he shouldn’t cause any further problems.  Sumeru doesn’t need any petty-minded fools wasting public time and resources trying to spite others for pursuing different interests.”

            Inayah blinked, wide-eyed.  “Wasting… time and resources…?”

            “Obviously.  Not everyone is suited to academics, or to any other activity.  It’s pointless to force someone to fit into a group they don’t belong to.”

            Inayah blinked again, now looking somewhat confused.  “Uh… okay…?”

            There was some more whispering from the crowd.  “Was that an insult?”

            “I’m… not sure?”

            “I don’t think it was supposed to be insulting…”

            Alhaitham sighed again, turning back to Sheikh Zubayr as the muted chatter continued.  “In any case, it’s already past the end of my working hours, and there’s nothing else I needed to do here.  Any further questions can be directed to the offices that would normally handle things relating to the theater’s permits.”

            Sheikh Zubayr nodded, slowly.  “I… see.  Is… that all, then?”

            “As far as I’m concerned, yes.  See ya.”

            And before anyone could say anything further, Alhaitham turned, and walked away.

            Nilou stared after him.  Behind her, she heard a faint fwooh sound, and Lumine quietly and repeatedly excusing herself, likely finally making her way to the front of the crowd.

            Nilou paused, then quickly passed the document in her hands back to Sheikh Zubayr.

            She waited just long enough for him to take the paper from her, before excusing herself and running after the Acting Grand Sage.

***

            She caught up to him just outside the Grand Bazaar.  “Alhaitham!”

            Alhaitham stopped and turned around as she ran up to him.  It was already dark out; his eyes seemed to flash slightly in the dim moonlight.  “Nilou.”

            Nilou stopped as well, and took a moment to catch her breath.  “Alhai – wait, no… Acting Grand Sage.”

            “‘Alhaitham’ is fine.  Did you need something?”

            “I, um…”  She paused.  “I just… I wanted to know how… how you found out about all this.  Did Lumine and Paimon…?”

            He raised an eyebrow slightly at that.  “Oh?  Interesting.  I wasn’t aware that they knew this was going on, too.”

            Nilou blinked at his words, the hint of amusement in his tone.  “Um – ah!  Wait, no, don’t get mad at them for not telling you!  They – they actually wanted to tell you, but everyone – um, but I told them not to, because… because…”

            He waited a few moments before prompting her to continue.  “Because?”

            “… because… I didn’t think it was worth bothering you with… with something so trivial.  You already have so many other things going on, and…”

            “I see.  I appreciate the thought, but as I’ve already stated, the problem would have been much easier to resolve, had someone in authority been informed of it sooner.  Keep that in mind, in the future.”

            “Ah… right.  But, it’s just…”

            Alhaitham looked at her for a moment, causing her to fidget slightly.  Even if she forced herself to not look at the unusual eyes, to ignore the faint tension in the air around him, his gaze had always been like a physical weight, even… before.

            “Was there another reason?” he asked.

            Nilou fidgeted some more.  “It’s just… it’s not that I’m not grateful, or anything, but… we didn’t really do anything, you know?  It was our problem, but…”

            She wasn’t quite sure if she’d actually explained herself properly, but after a moment, he nodded, seeming to understand.  “You believe you should have done something yourselves, to earn this result.  I can understand the sentiment, but there’s no need for such a thing.”

            She looked up at him and blinked.  “There’s not?”

            “Of course not.  What is the point of having a government with the power to enforce its laws, if the people are still expected to enforce those laws themselves?”

            Nilou blinked again.  “That’s…”

            “The benefit of society is that it allows individuals to focus on their own desires, without so many distractions in the way.  Different people have different talents and interests, so with enough individuals contributing to the group, there is eventually someone to handle any specific task for everyone.  Stores exist, so not everyone has to grow their own food, or make their own clothing.  The students and scholars of the Akademiya are not expected to make the paper they write on, nor the pens they write with.  Even knowledge and wisdom follow a similar principle – people share the things they know, so not everyone who needs that information in the future has to find or figure it out for themselves, completely from scratch.  That’s obviously not to say that people shouldn’t have to learn anything for themselves, hence the Akasha reforms, but there’s no need for every person who wants to read to start by deciphering Teyvat Common letter by letter, nor for anyone who wants to build a house to invent their own recipe for bricks.”

            She nodded, slowly processing his words.  “That… makes sense.”

            “Nilou, did you want to debate Sharif?”

            “What – of course I – ”

            “I did not ask if you were willing to debate him.  I asked if you wanted to.”

            It took her a moment to properly grasp the difference between the two questions.

            Of course she had been willing to debate Inayah’s father.  No one had forced her to agree to the idea; she’d been given some encouragement, but the choice had ultimately been her own.  It had been the right thing to do, from her perspective at the time.

            But she had agreed because she’d felt it was necessary.

            “… no.  I didn’t.”

            “And you didn’t have to.  We have laws to protect people from those who would abuse their power – physical, monetary, or otherwise – and systems in place to enforce those laws, so civilians can put their time and energy into other things.  That is not something you have to earn, nor is it something you should have to earn.  Everyone should be free to lead the lives they want to live, so long as they are not getting in the way of others doing the same.”

            Nilou paused, then nodded again.  “I understand.”

            “Good.”  Alhaitham looked up, at something over her head – or maybe just looking off into the distance, or at nothing at all – and sighed.  “Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll go ahead and take my leave.  See ya.”

            Nilou stared at the ground for a moment, lost in thought, as he turned and started to walk away again.  Then she blinked, and looked up.  “Um – Alhaitham, wait!”

            He paused and glanced back over his shoulder, but didn’t turn around just yet.  “Yes?”

            She opened her mouth, only to realize that she hadn’t actually figured out what it was she wanted to say.  A jumbled mess of words clogged the way out of her mind, everything seemingly fighting to be spoken at the same time.

            Nilou paused for a moment to untangle her thoughts, then took a deep breath, and looked straight into those strange eyes, as their owner finally did turn back around.

            “Thank you.”

            I know you don’t want people to know about… that, so the others probably won’t ever find out how much this really meant.  But… I hope it means something, that someone knows.

            Green-and-red eyes blinked, and stared at her for a moment.

            Then, slowly, faintly, Alhaitham smiled.

***

            Dendro pulsed.

            (It didn’t burn.)

Chapter Text

            “I hereby… proclaim our victory…”

            “Evil shall plague us no more… Dad.”

***

            I was suddenly seized with an urge to write a letter after finishing this bottle.  I just folded it up and left it in the bottle, though.  If I end up forgetting about it, it won’t really matter.

            To Dehya…

            …

            Anyway, Dehya… You possess the kind of freedom and kindness that we could only dream of.  As for how you should live your life… that’ll be up to you to decide.

            Kusayla

***

            Dehya was about an hour outside Caravan Ribat when she heard the shuffling of feet on sand behind her, and suddenly regretted her decision to continue on to Aaru Village, rather than staying at the inn for the night.

            Running into fanatic Eremites while alone, in the dead of night, was never a good time.

            Especially not right after one had been drinking… slightly more than usual.

            Dehya swore loudly as a sword swung past her, and quickly buried a fist in its owner’s gut.  She barely managed to turn and raise her other arm in time to block a crossbow bolt with her gauntlet, and cursed again as some other weapon flashed past her face.

            Just my luck, after these last few days.

            Luckily, Dehya was no stranger to drunken brawls.  She’d fought her way through worse before, even if doing so was hardly something to make a habit of.

            Pyro erupted from the ground as she drove a fist into the sand, sending three enemies flying.  She wasn’t quite sure how many of them there were in total; there was the crossbow guy on top of these three, of course, and seemingly a few more aside from him.  It was a little hard to count accurately at the moment, though, given all the chaos, plus the alcohol still in her system.

            She heard a crossbow fire, but didn’t quite react in time.  There was a surprisingly sharp jolt of pain as the bolt grazed her side.

            Whatever, she thought, glancing only briefly at the trickle of blood from the shallow cut left behind.  Pyro engulfed the wound a moment later, dulling the pain; a few ethereal, golden sparks flickered amidst the flames.  It’ll be gone soon enough.

            The idiots still attacking her were a far more important problem.

            Dehya dodged aside as a katar stabbed at her, then grabbed the arm holding the weapon and swung its owner over her shoulder, right into the guy who’d been coming up behind her with a halberd.  One Eremite came charging in with an axe; Dehya caught her weapon by the handle, twisted it free from the other woman’s hands, and slammed the blunt end down on her head, then threw the weapon at the stupid crossbow guy.

            Another Eremite came at her with his bare fists, having apparently dropped his weapon at some point.  Dehya dodged his punches, slowly making her way over to where her claymore had landed after she’d flung it at someone as a distraction.  The other Eremite didn’t seem to notice what she was doing, nor did his remaining friends – that was, until she grabbed her weapon and bashed him over the head with it.

            Finally, seeming to realize that they no longer had the advantage – if they’d ever really had it to begin with – the last few conscious enemies turned and ran.  The crossbow guy seemed to consider taking a few more shots, but quickly fled as well when Dehya threw another dropped weapon – a sword, this time – at him.

            “And don’t come back, you hear?!” Dehya shouted after them.  She paused to check that the Eremites on the ground were all, in fact, unconscious, then stretched – and winced, as pain stabbed at her side.

            Still?  That should have healed by now…

            She looked down at where the wound had been, channeling some Pyro in one hand to see more clearly in the darkness.  The skin was unmarked, aside from a few traces of dried blood that her Pyro hadn’t burned away… but the color seemed slightly off, and she was suddenly starting to feel strangely sore all over.

            Dehya cursed.

            Poison.

            She thought quickly.  It was… probably another hour or so, to Aaru Village.  Or at least it would be, under normal conditions.  With the poison, and given that she’d already been… maybe just a little bit drunk, beforehand, it would probably be longer.  She could try to find a safe place to rest, somewhere closer, but staying out in the desert night was probably not a great idea either, even with a heat source.

            She hadn’t taken a direct hit, and the cut hadn’t been very deep; hopefully, she hadn’t actually gotten that much poison in her.  With any luck, her Pyro might have even burned some of it away before it could take effect…

            Dehya took a deep breath, and continued walking.

            She hoped the poison wouldn’t spread too quickly.

***

            The poison spread quickly.

            Dehya staggered as her head spun, barely managing to stumble over to the nearby cliff face before falling over.  She leaned against the rock wall, breathing heavily.

            Her head hurt.  Her body felt like it was made of lead.  She was so tired…

            No.  Don’t stop here.  Don’t fall asleep.  You won’t wake up again.

            She took a deep breath, and forced herself to keep walking.  There wasn’t much further to go; she could already see Aaru Village, just over the horizon.

            Unfortunately, the distance closed slowly.  With every step she took, her body seemed to get heavier.  The night seemed to be getting foggy, which made no sense – the desert air didn’t contain anywhere near enough water for there to be fog.

            The world spun again.

            No, don’t fall asleep!  Even if the poison doesn’t kill you, there could be monsters, or wild animals, or more fanatics…

            She took another step forward, and nearly fell flat on her face.

            … no good.  I can’t keep going like this…

            Dehya took another deep breath to steady herself, then looked up.  She… needed to find somewhere safe to rest.  Preferably somewhere with a good view of her surroundings, maybe with some walls so it would be easier to defend.  It was getting hard to see, though – the “fog” seemed to be getting thicker, and everything seemed to tilt and spin as she looked around…

            Her eyes stopped on… what appeared to be a faint, blue light, not too far in the distance.  She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but…

            Light is good.  Light means visibility.

            Somehow, Dehya managed to stay on her feet long enough to walk all the way up to the light source.  The fog clouding her vision was way too thick, now, though; she could barely see an arm’s length in front of her, at this point.  She could still see that blue light, but everything else was a blur.

            She staggered up to the source of the light, and all but collapsed against… some kind of tall, sort-of-cylindrical structure.

            She looked up, and squinted.  The blue light was indeed coming from… whatever this structure was.  A statue, maybe?  The top was kind of a strange shape…

            Dehya blinked, as her vision focused for just a moment – just long enough to make out the details of the… statue.  It seemed to depict a person in a long robe – possibly too long, given that the person seemed kind of short – seated on what appeared to be… a really fancy chair, resembling some kind of plant, with very large leaves.

            She blinked again, this time in recognition.

            That’s Lord Kusanali.

            Dehya let out a sigh of relief as she finally allowed herself to sit down.

            She wasn’t quite sure why, but… some instinct told her she would be safe here, under this strangely-lit statue of the First Dendro Archon.  It was also… warm, somehow.  The statue didn’t seem to be emitting any heat, or anything, but the air around it was nowhere near as cold as she would expect, out in the desert at this time of night.

            She wondered who had built this statue.  Maybe Lord Kusanali herself had, and the statue had some kind of divine blessing.  That would explain the light, and the strange lack of cold.

            “I hope you don’t mind me staying here a while,” she said quietly – as if Lord Kusanali could actually hear her, somehow, despite being unconscious and all the way on the other side of Sumeru.  “It might be a bit rude of me to use your blessing, considering I’m… not really one of yours, but… I’m kind of desperate right now.  I hope you won’t take offense.”

            Dehya paused, then laughed a little, to herself.

            “Though I suppose it’s not like I’ve ever been that great at this whole ‘respect’ thing.  So… yeah.  Sorry about this.”

            It’s not like I haven’t run my mouth enough already, in my life.

            Words from her father’s final letter to her echoed in her mind, as if she’d actually heard him speaking them.

            “You possess the kind of freedom and kindness that we could only dream of…”

            She suppressed the urge to laugh again, this time at herself.

            So much for “kindness”, huh?  I couldn’t even be bothered to find out who you really were until it was too late.  And… I promised…

            Her own words echoed.

            “It doesn’t matter that he’s an untrustworthy – ”

            She blinked and shook her head, cutting off the memory.  She didn’t need to hear that word again… especially not in her own voice.

            She didn’t want it still floating in her mind, waiting to be dropped on someone else who didn’t deserve it.

            Who will it be next time?  Maybe Candace, or Dunyarzad –

            Dehya growled, and shook that thought out of her head, too.

            She wondered if, maybe, it was a good thing she hadn’t made it to Aaru Village, with her mind obviously still clouded by alcohol and poison.  There was no knowing what might fall out of her mouth, while she was in this state.

            It occurred to her that she should probably not risk running her mouth under a possibly-enchanted statue of her nation’s first Archon, either.

            And yet, for some reason… she just really wanted to talk.

            She knew Lord Kusanali was unlikely to actually be listening – which was probably a good thing, all things considered.  But she wanted to talk to someone, or to at least pretend that she was talking to someone, and… from how Lumine, Paimon, and Dunyarzad had spoken of her, the God of Wisdom seemed like she would have been a good listener.

            Dehya pulled her Vision from her belt, and twirled it around one finger in an attempt to distract herself… then sighed, looked up at the carving of the First Dendro Archon, and gave in.

            “I… don’t know why I didn’t expect this to happen eventually, really.  It seems pretty obvious that just saying whatever comes to mind is eventually going to end badly, you know?  I didn’t let myself run my mouth around Dunyarzad and her family, at least, and I try to be more careful around Candace, but…”

            The statue remained silent   Not that Dehya had expected anything different, of course.

            “… I mean… I guess… it doesn’t seem like Dad really blamed me for yelling at him, at least.  Neither did any of the other guys.  It’s just… I don’t know.  I wish I’d found out while he was still alive.  So maybe I could tell him…”

            I wish I could thank him for everything… and apologize for not realizing.  Even if… he didn’t really want me to know…

            She looked back down, in the direction she knew Aaru Village was in.  She still couldn’t see very far, but the fog seemed to be clearing, just a little.

            “I… don’t really know how I didn’t realize sooner.  Maybe it’s like the other guys said, and I was just too young?  Stuff just seems… so obvious, now.  Like… like all those times Dad got really beat up, and Bashar made up all those ridiculous stories about how it happened.  I knew Dad wasn’t good enough to pull off the crazy stuff he did in those stories, even back then.  I even thought it was weird that he kept going off alone and getting into that sort of trouble; Dad was an idiot, but he wasn’t that stupid.  And all those times Tikriti would try to give him money for weird reasons, or for no reason at all.  Or those weird conversations he’d have with I – ”

            Dehya flinched, stopping herself from speaking that last name.  It was stupid, she knew; there was no association between… Idrisi, and… that other person.  There was no reason for her to avoid his name, just because it was so similar…

            I wonder if that was on purpose.  If it was his way of messing with –

            No, that thought was stupid, too.  She’d never spoken of her life with Dakan Al-Ahmar to anyone in her… current… life.  She hadn’t had contact with anyone from that group in more than a decade, up until the recent incident.  Idrisi wasn’t even anyone important.  There was no reason for anyone from her present life to know his name.

            It was still… unnerving.

            She sighed.  “But… yeah.  At least… none of the guys really seemed to blame me for it.  I guess… it was what they all wanted, in the end.  It was what Dad wanted.  Even if… even if I still can’t help…”

            Dehya closed her eyes, and took a deep breath to clear her thoughts a little.  They were starting to get kind of… tangled up.

            She opened her eyes again.  “At least… I did eventually find out.  And I was able to talk to the guys about it.  Maybe… wherever Dad is now… maybe he knows, too.”

            And maybe he also knows I said –

            “No!  Stop it!”  Dehya dropped her face into her hands, ignoring the jolt of pain that went through her head at the sudden movement.  She just wanted to stop… to stop thinking about…

            She lifted her head again, and stared at her Vision for a moment.  The brilliant red stone gleamed under the statue’s light.

            Is it the nation or the element, that indicates who your Vision came from?  Or maybe neither?  Sumeru didn’t stop getting Visions while Lord Kusanali was imprisoned, but Dendro Visions didn’t just stop appearing, either…

            She looked up at the statue again.  “Were you still handing these things out, this whole time?  I’ve got to say, that seems kind of unfair… not that there’s really anything fair about those so-called ‘Sages’ locking you up for five hundred years.  Honestly, this whole ‘godhood’ thing in general kind of just seems like a huge pain, for how much some people seem to want it…”

            Dehya paused, and looked back towards Aaru Village.  She could make out the outlines of some of the buildings now, if only just barely.

            “I guess it’s not your problem anymore, though, is it?  Not that it was your choice… or that I’d blame you, even if it was.  Even if I still don’t really get why the Gnosis picked – ”

            … I just can’t stay away, can I?

            Dehya sighed, and lowered her face back into the hand that wasn’t holding her Vision.

            Well, since I’m already spilling my guts to this statue anyway…

            “… I don’t really get why the Gnosis picked him, of all people.  I mean, I guess there probably weren’t too many options… the Dendro Archon obviously has to use Dendro, right?  And be from Sumeru.  I don’t know exactly how many other people fit those requirements, but the only one I know is Tighnari… and I think Lumine said he had an apprentice who also has a Dendro Vision?  I’m sure there are others, but…”

            She looked up again.  “I mean… it’s not like I actually hate him or anything, you know?  It’s just… he’s not anything like you.  At least, from what I’ve heard about you.  Dunyarzad’s always said good things, and Lumine and Paimon seemed to like you, too.  And… well, I guess you’re both crazy smart, at least.  But… that’s about the only thing you have in common.  Well, as far as I know.  I guess it’s not like I’ve ever actually met you myself, and… I suppose I don’t actually know him that well, either.  I mean, we only met each other, what?  Two weeks before all that stuff happened, and he became Archon?  It was another week before anyone actually figured it out, but… still.”

            … thinking about it now… it’s kind of crazy just how fast everything happened.  It felt like we were running around the desert for ages, chasing Radicals, trying to find the Village Keepers, then trying to get them back, and then finding out what was actually going on… but really, that wasn’t even a whole week.  And Jnagarbha Day wasn’t that long after, either…

            “… to be honest, though… he’s doing alright.  For… for what that’s worth.  I mean, I haven’t been around the city much, lately, but… from what I’ve heard, things are… okay?  Like, I hear a bunch of people are mad about the stuff with the Akasha, but really, that just sounds like a ‘people are stupid’ problem.  And things seemed alright, when I was there.  Stuff was running fine, there weren’t any crazy dream shenanigans going on… oh, and all those dumb anti-art laws were gone.  Zubayr Theater put on this great show, with Nilou dancing and everything, and the Akademiya didn’t bother them at all.  Though… apparently there was a thing a couple days ago?  Dunyarzad didn’t really have all the details… it didn’t sound like it was really a big deal, though.  Something like, some fancy-pants scholar got it in his head to try messing with the theater again, but the new Grand Sage threw the book at him…”

            Dehya paused.  “Oh yeah, speaking of the Sages, I heard the ones who were trying to replace you finally got what was coming to them.  About… two weeks ago, I think.  About time, right?  Heh, I heard Mr. Archon came up with something that scared them real good.  Or at least, that’s what the guys in the Corps of Thirty told me.  They… didn’t seem to know what actually happened though – the ex-Sages really didn’t want to talk about it, apparently.  And I think they got sentenced to life in prison and community service after that.  That seems a little too good for them, if you ask me, but then again, I don’t know what the first part actually was…”

            Maybe I should track Lumine and Paimon down again sometime, and see if they know.  They seem pretty well-informed.  Or… maybe I’ll just ask… him.  Eventually.  When… I finally…

            “… who am I kidding.  That’s never going to happen.  Not after I said… that.  He probably hates me now.”

            Guess that’s what I get for breaking a promise.  Sorry, Dad.

            Dehya paused again, as her thoughts finally started to wind down.  She looked back out at Aaru Village, again; she could actually see some of the buildings clearly, now.  And now that she was no longer busy talking to an inanimate object, it occurred to her that her body didn’t feel so heavy anymore, either.

            She was still tired, but… she could probably make it to the village now, at least.

            Taking a deep breath, Dehya slowly stood up.  When the world didn’t spin again, and her body didn’t suddenly seem to triple in weight, she turned and took one last look up at the strange, glowing statue.

            “Well, thanks for listening to me, I guess.  And… you don’t have to worry about Sumeru.  It might take a while, but… I think stuff is going to work out.”

            She paused, again, and laughed a little as another thought crossed her mind.  Why not?  “So… I know this is probably just a statue.  You probably haven’t heard anything I’ve said this whole time.  But… I guess, if you are listening, and… I don’t know, maybe you can still talk to people with your fancy mind powers or something.  I guess… tell him…”

            She took another deep breath.

            “Tell him… I’m sorry.”

            I’m probably still drunk.  I’m probably just talking to a giant chunk of rock, like a crazy person.  But… it’s better than nothing, I guess.

            She turned, and started walking towards Aaru Village again.

            Strangely enough, the memories of that final argument, and her words in the Sanctuary, did seem just a little bit lighter.

***

            She finally reached Aaru Village about fifteen minutes later.

            It was incredibly late at night, now.  There were no lights on in any of the buildings; even most of the street lanterns had already gone out, and not been relit.

            Dehya squinted in an attempt to see further through the darkness.  When that didn’t really help, she tried to channel some Pyro into one hand.

            Nothing happened.

            Dehya blinked, and looked down at her belt.  Her Vision wasn’t there.

            It suddenly occurred to her that she had never put it back.

            I must have left it at the statue.  Or maybe dropped it somewhere along the way.

            She sighed, internally cursing her inattentiveness.

            I should probably go back for it.

            She glanced in the direction she had come from.  The blue light… was visible, through the remaining “fog”, but it seemed… so far away, now.

            She was so tired.

            … forget it.  I’ll look for it in the morning.

***

            Dehya woke to the faint screech of vultures in the distance.

            She groaned, rolled over, and slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the early morning sun.  Her head hurt, a little; she was probably hungover.  She felt alright otherwise, though, and her vision wasn’t all weird and cloudy anymore, so the poison had probably run its course.

            That said, her memories of the previous night were a little hazy.  Probably because of the alcohol and poison…

            This is… Aaru Village.  I’m in Candace’s house.  I was…

            She paused, and frowned.

            I feel like… I’m forgetting something.  There was… something I needed to do…

            Dehya blinked.  Her eyes went wide as realization slammed into her like a ton of bricks.

            My Vision – I left it – why didn’t – AGH!

            Dehya practically fell out of bed in her hurry to get up.  She ran out of the guest bedroom without bothering to put on her boots, shouting a quick – and maybe slightly panicked – greeting to Candace as she raced past the other woman.  She could almost feel mismatched eyes staring at her back in confusion as she ran to the front door and threw it open.

            I can’t believe I did something so stupid!  Even if having a Vision isn’t everything, who just throws something like that away for no –

            Her thoughts abruptly cut off as her foot hit something small, round, and hard, sitting just outside the door.  The object rolled away with a soft clink of glass on stone.

            Dehya paused, blinked, then looked down at where the object had stopped.

            Sunlight glinted off of gold.  The familiar flame symbol shone on vivid, Pyro-red glass.  Elemental energy pulsed faintly inside her.

            Her Vision.

            She blinked again, and looked around.  There was… no one.  The village was silent, but for the faint sounds of the wind and distant wildlife.

            Whoever had left her Vision here… was long gone.

            Dehya slowly bent down and picked up the briefly-lost artifact.  She stared at the brilliant red stone, the familiar gold casing.

            She suddenly became aware of Candace’s voice behind her.  “Dehya, are you alright?”

            Dehya blinked, again, and turned around.  “Oh… uh, yeah.  Sorry.  It’s just…”

            Candace stared at her for a moment before speaking again.  “Is that… your Vision?  Did you drop your Vision outside the door last night?”

            “Uh…”  Dehya paused, then sighed.  It was pointless for her to lie to Candace; her friend had always been able to see right through her.  “Not exactly,” she admitted.  “I… dropped it at some point on my way to the village, and… was too out of it, I guess, to go back for it.  Someone must have found it, and left it here.”

            Candace blinked.  “I see.”  She paused.  “Interesting.  I wonder who it was, and how they knew to bring it here.  Your Vision doesn’t have any particularly recognizable decorations.”

            “… yeah, that’s a good question.”  Dehya paused and glanced down at the artifact in her hand again, then let out an amused breath.  “Heh.  Maybe Lord Kusanali sent someone.”

            “… Lord Kusanali?  The previous Archon?”

            Dehya laughed a little.  “Yeah.  I was feeling really awful for a while on my way here last night – you know, with the poison and all – and had to stop for a bit because I could barely see or stand straight.  Luckily there was this really well-lit statue of Lord Kusanali along the way.  I… might have talked to it while I was resting.”  She laughed again, mildly embarrassed.  “Oh well.  I’m sure that’s not the strangest thing anyone’s done while drunk or poisoned…”

            Candace blinked again, then slowly looked up and pointed at something in the distance.  “This statue you’re talking about… wouldn’t happen to be that one over there, would it?”

            Dehya paused, then turned and looked in the direction that her friend was pointing in.  “Oh!  Yeah, that’s the one.  What about – ”

            She stopped mid-sentence as recognition finally hit.

            “… wait.  That’s… that’s the Statue of the Seven.”

            “Yes.  It is.”

            “So… wait.  But Lord Kusanali isn’t… the Archon… anymore…”

            “… No.  She is not.”

            Dehya suddenly felt her face heating up.  It had nothing to do with the fact that she had just recovered her Pyro Vision, after being separated from it for a night.

            She turned, ran back into the guest bedroom, and slammed the door behind her.

***

            Candace blinked at the mortified scream that echoed through her house.

            She suppressed the urge to laugh at the stream of confused, barely-intelligible swearing that immediately followed.

            Something told her that Dehya was going to be alright.

Chapter Text

            It was relatively common knowledge, even among mortals, that the gods who comprised the group known as The Seven gained power from their people’s worship and prayer.  While this was not actually precisely true – it was not the Archons themselves, but the Gnoses, that actually drew power from the people’s faith – the basic meaning of the statement was essentially correct.  As such, it logically followed that the more worship and prayer a particular Archon received, the more powerful that Archon would become.

            Based on this logic, Venti had once claimed that, given his near-total absence from his nation, he must therefore be the weakest of The Seven Archons.

            This statement was, of course, patently false.  For one thing, anyone with even a single brain cell could take one look at the capital city of the Nation of Freedom, and instantly see that the people of Mondstadt were, in general, incredibly devoted to their Archon – even if not all of them believed he’d ever actually existed in the first place.  The mere existence of the Church of Favonius was proof enough of their faith – to say nothing of the massive statue of their god that stood in front of the church’s grand cathedral.

            Furthermore, Venti’s declaration of his weakness was even more obviously ridiculous when one considered the fact that he’d made it to the face of an Archon who’d been human not even two weeks before, barely even existed in concept, and wasn’t even properly attuned with his Gnosis yet at the time.

            That Alhaitham was less than thirty years old, while Venti – the second-longest-reigning of the current Archons, and one of only two survivors from the original Seven – was somewhere in the range of twenty-six hundred, was hardly worth mentioning.

            And even discounting all that… even if Venti was somehow weaker than Alhaitham, that point was meaningless at the moment, in light of the former’s particular skillset.

            Alhaitham deflected three arrows with his swords, and dodged a fourth.  A fifth arrow, glowing with concentrated Anemo energy, traced a shallow cut along one side of his face.

            He summoned several mirrors to fire back, but Venti floated out of the way without so much as batting an eye, even as he loosed more arrows, casually reducing the array of mirrors to a shower of rapidly-disintegrating fragments.

            (Power meant nothing, if you couldn’t hit your target.)

            Alhaitham forced down the urge to swear as another hail of arrows rained down on him.  He wasn’t quite sure how this fight had actually started, really; he’d only been in this cave, deep beneath the mountain north of Pardis Dhyai, to get a few hours of peace and quiet before the start of his workday (Kaveh was, once again, working late, this time scrambling to meet a deadline he’d forgotten about while burning out the kick of inspiration he’d gotten from his most recently-completed project).  He’d found this cave, and the strangely-walled room in its depths, purely by chance a few years ago, while taking shelter from a sudden downpour on his way back from a research trip – though said room had been far more difficult to reach at the time, and somewhat less safe to be in, due to the presence of an enormous Ruin Machine sealed in the center.

            Both of those problems were no longer problems – the former due to the recent changes to his elemental abilities, the latter because the aforementioned Ruin Machine had mysteriously vanished at some point in the intervening time, for reasons he didn’t care to investigate.

            In any case, it turned out that Venti somehow knew of this strange room, as well – though he’d evidently found it a much longer time ago, apparently before the now-inexplicably-missing Ruin Machine had been there – and occasionally stopped by while looking for inspiration for his music.  That two Archons had somehow wound up in the same exact place, at the same exact time, was apparently, in this case, completely coincidental.

            There had been some conversation, a few joking insults had been traded for some reason or another… and somehow, at some point, things had escalated into an actual fight.  Friendly, of course, but… regardless.

            “What’s wrong?”  The Anemo Archon’s voice was strangely clear, despite the fact that it was coming from several meters up in the air.  “Can’t keep up with the tempo of my song?”

            Alhaitham resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the obvious showboating.  Of course Venti was showing off just how precisely he could control the air right now, in the middle of a fight.

            (Trash talk and intimidation were valid psychological tactics, but still.)

            “Winning this fight won’t take long… eh, no, that doesn’t work.  What’s another word that rhymes with – whoa!”

            The comical yelp Venti let out as a laser shot past his face was amusing, but unhelpful.  He was still nowhere close to being within Alhaitham’s reliable attacking range.

            (Opponents that could fly were always a pain.  An opponent that could fly, and fought pretty much exclusively at long range, was the worst.)

            Anemo swirled at Alhaitham’s feet.  That was all the warning he got before air surged up beneath him, lifting him clear off the ground.  He landed hard; probably-bruised ribs protested as he rolled to his feet, barely avoiding the three arrows that promptly lodged themselves in the cobblestones he’d fallen on just moments before.

            For what it was worth, at least Venti had waited for him to land before shooting.

            (He wasn’t sure if doing this in the desert would be better or worse.  Sand was a much better surface to fall onto than stone, but sand and wind were not a fun combination.)

            More arrows rained down – some infused with Anemo, some not.  The uninfused arrows came in larger numbers, but the infused ones flew much faster, and produced surprisingly-strong shockwaves on impact with the walls or ground.  They also seemed to trail feathers behind them, for some reason, which was annoying; the feathers were clearly not real, and disappeared after a few seconds, but they obstructed his sight as well as any real object for the brief time that they were visible – a serious hindrance, when one was being bombarded with small, sharp, and fast-moving projectiles, and even a fraction of a second’s loss of visibility could easily mean getting turned into a pincushion.

            Anemo swirled again; Alhaitham barely moved in time to avoid getting launched into the air a second time.  Another barrage of arrows immediately followed, one passing close enough for him to feel the wind spiraling around it as it flew by.

            Alhaitham saw – and heard – Venti blow a raspberry at him, and gave the other god a flat look in response.  He was briefly reminded of a comment the older Archon had once made about a certain other Archon, and meteors.

            (Standing around shooting at Venti with his mirrors was clearly not working.  Even if his mirrors weren’t so easily destroyed, the other Archon was simply too far away and too small of a target to hit with any semblance of reliability.)

            He paused.

            (… though… Zhongli was perhaps not the only one capable of launching a projectile of unusual size… for a certain definition of “projectile”.)

            “Apples are red; Cecilias are white.  It’s too bad you’re incapable of fli – ”

            Venti nearly dropped his bow as turquoise and emerald metal flashed in front of him.  The surprise didn’t keep him off balance for long, though; Anemo swirled, and Alhaitham barely managed to shift back into light form before the ensuing blast of wind would have slammed him into the ground.  He didn’t have time to charge enough Dendro to maintain control, and reflected several times between the ceiling and floor before managing to stop – thankfully not too high off the ground, and while moving up.  His head spun from the sudden, uncontrolled movement, and the landing still hurt, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been.

            Another shower of arrows.  Alhaitham looked back up as he dodged, just in time to catch the flicker of lingering Dendro on Venti’s face; an instant later, it was gone.

            Teal eyes flashed mischievously as their owner casually floated around a barrage of lasers, as well as the emerald blade that went flying after them, lodging itself into the ceiling with a dull thunk.  “Quite the interesting bag of tricks; I wonder if any of them will stick?”

            A few bits of debris fell as the thrown weapon abruptly came loose from the ceiling and shot back down towards its wielder, as if pulled down by an invisible string.  Venti was right in its way, but he dodged it easily, without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

            Catching his returning sword, Alhaitham quickly deflected the volley of arrows that came behind it, too fast and too thick to dodge.  It abruptly occurred to him that there weren’t nearly as many arrows in the floor and walls as there should have been; as if on cue, three nearby arrows vanished, a split second before three arrows materialized in Venti’s hand.

            When the next barrage came, Alhaitham cut the arrows out of the air, rather than simply deflecting them.  Venti blinked as he summoned several arrows back to his hand, only for one to return in two pieces.

            Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Alhaitham swiftly conjured up an array of mirrors to attack.  Venti still dodged all the shots with little trouble, unfortunately, but one of his arrows hit a laser head-on, and was promptly reduced to a puddle of molten metal and ash, while two more were sliced apart as concentrated Dendro intersected with their shafts.

            “Clever,” Venti called down from above.  “But your energy you will quickly drain, trying to slice every drop of rain!”

            Alhaitham couldn’t help rolling his eyes this time, even as he cut and shot down more arrows.  Venti was getting perhaps a little too cheeky; the constant rhyming had been one thing, but now he was adding metaphors to his taunts.

            “Oh?  Is there something you want to say, muscle nerd?”

            Alhaitham shot him another flat look.  “Nothing you need to be concerned with.  I simply wasn’t expecting to discover such a verbose new variety of Anemo Specter today.”

            Venti blinked again.  Alhaitham forced himself to keep a straight face as the Anemo Archon’s jaw dropped in exaggerated indignation.

            “How rude!”  The amusement in Venti’s eyes was clear, despite the obvious attempt at feigning anger.  “If you wish to mock the sky, then into the storm you will fly!”

            Every arrow still on the ground or in a wall suddenly disappeared, all at once.

            “This fight’s conclusion, the winds portend, as they sing an Elegy for the End.”

            Anemo swirled, high above – and then there was a brief, sharp whistling noise, as metal and wood rained down, wind and gravity accelerating even dulled arrowheads and broken arrow shafts to hazardous speeds.

            And yet, even as he started summoning mirrors and adjusted his grip on his swords, Alhaitham could already see that this was only a distraction.

            Even as the first arrows and arrow fragments hit the ground, Venti was already raising his bow again.  One final arrow appeared – no, formed – in his draw hand – a bolt of pure condensed Anemo, so concentrated that it seemed to become physically tangible.

            He drew, aimed… and loosed the arrow, just as the last of the physical projectiles fell.

            “Our final fates, the skies foretold, in the lines of the Wind’s Grand Ode!”

            The arrow flew to the center of the room – where it suddenly seemed to implode and explode, both at once.

            Alhaitham swore as seemingly all the air in the room started to swirl inward, towards where that last arrow had detonated.  He could already see where this was going; his feet were already starting to slide across the stone floor, and the wind was only growing stronger.

            (His light form was effectively massless, and would be unaffected by the wind – but he couldn’t maintain control of it long enough to outlast the coming storm.  He’d run several tests on his limits since that first “power outage”, the night before his spar with Ei, and had found that he could sustain the required energy flow for about a tenth of a second, at the absolute most; that wouldn’t be nearly enough time… and burning out his entire supply of elemental energy wasn’t a great idea, regardless.  He could fly uncontrolled for much longer, but he’d still be left a sitting duck afterward, with the dizziness that would inevitably follow – that was, if it didn’t just cause him to drop back into physical form halfway through.)

            He turned to try running away from the rapidly-forming vortex – and blinked, as he saw the wall ahead.

            (… it wasn’t the best plan he’d ever come up with, but it would have to do.)

            Time seemed to slow, for just an instant.  Alhaitham cut off the flow of Dendro, right before he would have hit the wall.  He drove his right-hand sword into the stone – perpendicular to the still-growing wind – and channeled some more Dendro out through his feet, planting them into the ground as the sound of air rushing past crescendoed to a screeching howl.

            Alhaitham braced himself against the gale, holding onto his improvised anchor as tightly as he could manage.  He forced down the urge to try and grab his cape as the wind tore it from his shoulder and carried it away.

            Something flashed in his peripheral vision.  A flicker of elemental energy, high up above.

            He turned and looked – just in time to see an Anemo-infused arrow flying around the screaming vortex, straight towards him.

            He raised his free sword to deflect the projectile… but he’d reacted too late.

            A sharp pain speared through his left arm.

            His right hand slipped from his anchored sword.  The flow of Dendro from his feet broke for just an instant – but even that was an instant too long.

            Alhaitham had just enough presence of mind to dismiss his second sword to its storage space, as he was promptly wrenched off his feet.

            He vaguely registered the presence of an oddly-familiar rock on one side of the room, and a pale green blur, as the howling winds whipped around him, dragging him through the air – and then the vortex swallowed him whole, and he remembered nothing more.

***

            …

            … can…

            … can anybody hear me…?

            …

***

            Alhaitham woke to a pair of familiar voices.

            “He’s fine, don’t worry.  It’s not that easy to take out an Archon, ehe.”

            (That was Venti, obviously.)

            “Okay… if Lord of Anemo is sure…”

            (… and that was…)

            He opened his eyes, and blinked a few times to force them to focus.  He… was still in that strange room under the Ashavan Realm’s mountain, it seemed.  It wasn’t immediately clear how long he’d been unconscious for, but the wind appeared to have died down in the meantime.  Venti was to his left, talking to someone just out of sight.

            The older Archon turned to Alhaitham, having apparently noticed some sign that he’d woken up.  “See?  He’s already awake.  He probably just passed out from the sudden transition into the dream world, that’s all.”

            “Oh!”  There was a sound like leaves fluttering in the wind, and then a very familiar smiling face popped up on Venti’s other side.  “That is good, Aradish is very relieved.  Aradish was worried Lord of Dendro might sleep for much longer time.”

            Alhaitham blinked again.  “… Aradish?”

            (What was he doing here?)

            Venti glanced at Aradish for a moment.  “Oh, so you two know each other?  Well, that makes more sense, then.  I was wondering why a random Aranara would suddenly show up here, with everyone saying that you guys only appear to children nowadays.”

            “Aradish is confused.  Of course Aradish knows Lord of Dendro.  All Aranara know Lord of Dendro.”

            “Uh… that’s… never mind, it’s not really important.”  Venti turned back to Alhaitham.  “Anyway, glad you’re awake!  Sorry I got a little carried away there.  Or maybe you were the one who got carried away, ehe.  Are you – whoa, don’t move that!”

            Alhaitham blinked, again, as Venti abruptly cut off his attempt to sit up.  The reason for the sudden reaction became rather obvious a moment later, as the older Archon carefully lifted Alhaitham’s left forearm off the ground and into his field of view.

            Venti’s last arrow was stuck clean through the limb – arrowhead on one side, fletching on the other.  Alhaitham had been about to lever himself off the ground with that arm.

            Needless to say, that would not have been a good idea.

            Alhaitham winced as the impaled limb’s muscles tensed involuntarily, straining against the foreign object that had lodged itself through them.  “I… don’t suppose summoning that away would be particularly advisable?”

            “… I’ve never tried that, but probably not.  Summoned and de-summoned objects don’t just leave behind any dust or dirt that’s stuck to them…”

            (A good point.  This was probably not the time to find out what else an object transported by a summoning enchantment might take with it.)

            “Don’t worry, I’ve dealt with stuff like this before.”  Venti carefully set Alhaitham’s arm back down, then summoned a small knife to his hand.  “Hold still for a minute.”

            Alhaitham watched for a few seconds as Venti started sawing through the arrow’s shaft, on the fletched end, before his attention was drawn away by movement on his right.  He turned to see Aradish flying over, dragging Alhaitham’s cape behind him.

            “Hello, Lord of Dendro,” the Aranara said, dropping his cargo at its owner’s side.  “Is Lord of Dendro okay?”

            “I’m fine.  What were you doing here?”

            “Aradish was visiting Aranara friends!  Aradashan, Arasata, Arasaha, and Arayuta come to train Ararakalari, so Aranara can help if Big Iron Chunks attack again!”

            (… did that have something to do with the Ruin Machine that used to be here?)

            “I… see.  And… what was that about me passing out from entering the dream world?”

            “Aradish and friends saw Lord of Dendro and Lord of Anemo also training, and watched from dream.”  Aradish waved an arm at the familiar rock Alhaitham had noticed before – which, now that he wasn’t busy getting tossed around like a children’s toy, he was able to recognize as a Silapna.  “Aradish saw Lord of Dendro fly into big storm and was worried, so Aradish took Lord of Dendro into dream to wait for big storm to stop.”

            “It’s a good thing I knew you guys exist, by the way,” Venti remarked.  He paused for a second as the arrow’s shaft finally snapped, and carefully started pulling the rest of the projectile out of Alhaitham’s arm by the unbroken end.  “I was really confused for a minute when the wind stopped, and there was nobody else in the room.”

            “Aradish is sorry.  Aradish was trying to wake Lord of Dendro, forgot to return Lord of Dendro from dream until Lord of Anemo played music for Silapna.”

            Alhaitham paused.  “You don’t have to keep calling me that, by the way.  You can just use my name.”

            Aradish tilted his head a little at that.  “Name?  Oh, Aradish remembers.  Golden Nara said Lord of Dendro was… Nara All-hate-them?”

            Alhaitham forced himself not to wince at the somewhat unfortunate (and unfortunately common, though fortunately only occasionally intentional) mispronunciation of his name, even as Venti openly snickered.  “Alhaitham,” he corrected.

            “Al-hay-tham.”

            “Yes.”

            “Alhaitham.  Nara Alhaitham.”  Aradish paused, and tilted his head again.  “But Lord of Dendro is Lord of Dendro now.  Aradish does not want to be rude.”

            “You don’t need to worry about that.  I’d… prefer that you use my name, honestly.”

            (He still hadn’t gotten used to this whole godhood thing.  He wasn’t even sure he wanted to get used to it, in all honesty.)

            “Aradish understands.  Okay!  If Lord – if Nara Alhaitham likes being Nara Alhaitham, then Aradish will say ‘Nara Alhaitham’!”

            “… thank you.”

            (He… wasn’t sure if Aradish knew how accurate that really was.)

            “Just another second here…”  There was a slight stab of pain in his arm as Venti finally pulled the arrow free.  “Uh… okay, good, it doesn’t look like you’re bleeding too much; that’s usually the problem with this sort of thing, with anyone who doesn’t heal as fast as we do.  You should probably take off your glove, though, to get a better look at it.”

            Alhaitham nodded, then slowly sat up and did as instructed.  The hole through his arm was easily visible, but as Venti had noted, there wasn’t a lot of blood; in fact, the wound already seemed to be sealing itself off.  It also didn’t hurt as much as he would have expected, given the number of things the arrow could have hit on its way through – either most of the damage had already healed, or he’d been very lucky – though he was having some trouble moving his hand.

            “That doesn’t look too bad, actually.”  Venti paused, then winced.  “Your hand might not work right for a few hours, though… sorry about that.”

            “It’s fine.  I’m not left-handed.”  It’d be inconvenient, but at least he could still write.  “You seem… familiar, with this type of injury.”

            “Eh… let’s just say, learning to aim curved shots is a lot harder than it sounds.”

            (… that explained a lot, actually.)

            “Well anyway, that was fun!  Also, it’s pretty convenient that we’re in a forest right now; I’m going to have to make a lot of new arrows…”

            Alhaitham didn’t bother to hide his smirk.  “How unfortunate.  I’m afraid I can’t help you with that; I don’t use any similar ammunition, and therefore lack the requisite crafting skills.”

            “Pfft.  As if you’d be any good at crafting anything right now, muscle nerd.”

            “Sharp words, from an overgrown Floating Anemo Fungus.”

            Aradish looked back and forth between the two of them, then tilted his head again, somehow managing to look more bewildered than usual despite his unchanging face.  “Aradish is confused.  Nara Alhaitham and Lord of Anemo sound like they are angry, but also not angry.  Are Nara Alhaitham and Lord of Anemo… having a fight?”

            Alhaitham paused for a moment before responding.

            “Don’t worry about it.  Humans are strange in their own ways.”

***

            Fortunately, Alhaitham was able to go about his work as usual, with no major issues from his arm – not even any unwanted attention.  By the time he returned from his lunch break, it was as if he and Venti had never even fought.

            This was good, as his work was still showing no signs of slowing down.

            (He wasn’t sure whether it was good or bad, that he couldn’t realistically work himself to physical exhaustion anymore.  He could work as long as necessary to keep up with the unending tide of problems that seemed to keep popping up, which was good.  But that, in turn, made it significantly harder to justify taking time off, which was obviously bad.)

            Alhaitham pinched the bridge of his nose as he saw that yet another new stack of Matra reports had appeared on his desk, in the half hour he had been away from his office.

            (Mental exhaustion, unfortunately, was as troublesome to a god as it was to any mortal.)

            For what it was worth, new problems did, at least, seem to be getting smaller.  Most of the issues finding their way to his desk these days were relatively minor… though he wasn’t sure if that said more about current events, or about the things he’d had to deal with before.  He had a feeling his standards were somewhat skewed, given how much of a mess Sumeru had been when he’d first been dropped onto the throne.

            It was somewhat frightening, what a person could get used to.

            Letting out a resigned sigh, Alhaitham sat down and started flipping through the new reports to see what needed to be dealt with more urgently, and what could be left for later.  There was a list of minor infractions that had already been resolved, which just needed to be archived; that went into a box sitting to the side of his desk, labeled “Scribe”.  All the documents in there, he’d work on at the end of the day, to wind down before heading out for the night.  An updated Matra roster also went into the box, as did that month’s spending report, after a quick once-over to check for any major abnormalities.

            Among the more significant documents was a report regarding the… unusual… event that had taken place in Port Ormos about a week before Coronation Day.  That, at least, had been interesting to read about; Alhaitham would probably have looked into that situation himself, if he hadn’t been so busy.  Unfortunately, with everything else going on, he’d had to settle for taking Lumine and Paimon’s reports on the incident… though he wouldn’t complain about being spared an unnecessary encounter with a certain fox.

            The new report on that matter didn’t contain any particularly important information, but it was at least mostly positive.  A few of Elchingen’s… “business associates”… were unfortunately still at large (and had likely already escaped to Snezhnaya by this point, realistically speaking), and Elchingen himself had finally been found dead (which Cyno was probably not happy about), but the research materials Kautilya had left behind had finally been cleared to be released back to the Akademiya, and the case was otherwise progressing with no issues.

            Alhaitham didn’t personally care whether the relevant studies would be successful or not, but research was research – and the Akademiya desperately needed new projects right now, with how reluctant most of its students and scholars still were to do much of anything under the new restrictions on the Akasha.  He would also admit that the ability to tame Fungi could potentially be very useful, even if figuring out any necessary laws would be a pain.

            Also, the mental image of some colorful mushroom creatures beating down a squad of Fatui was hilarious.

            (He’d met… “Bongo-Head”… a couple of times, when Lumine and Paimon stopped by to report on various things, and seen one of the younger Rtawahist students walking around with her Fungus on a few occasions.  Both Fungi had seemed docile enough, and intelligent enough to not go poking around in random things, so he had no issues with the idea of sufficiently-trained Fungi being kept as companions.  On a side note, he was glad that whoever had actually planned the Nilotpala Cup – Elchingen had mostly just supplied the Mora – had thought things through enough to make sure Sumeru City was also prepared to handle competitors bringing their Fungi around; there had only been a few minor incidents relating to that matter, all of which had easily been handled by the Corps of Thirty.)

            Other than that, there wasn’t much of note.  There had been another strange sleepwalking case like the one Cyno had reported a few days after Coronation Day, which was a little odd, but nothing that really required immediate attention.  The increasing numbers of Canned Knowledge smugglers being caught in various parts of the nation were somewhat more concerning; the rate at which said smugglers were being brought in should have dropped off by now, with how many had already been captured, but that didn’t seem to be happening.  The Matra had noticed this as well, though, and were already looking into it.

            With the new Matra reports now sorted, Alhaitham found the stack of paperwork he’d been working through before going to lunch, and started reading through the first document on the pile – the latest in a series of trade agreements Sumeru had been negotiating with Liyue.  It wasn’t the worst thing to start with, he supposed; at the very least, it was guaranteed to be an interesting mental exercise –

            His thoughts were abruptly cut off by the sound of glass shattering behind him.

            Alhaitham instinctively ducked as glass shards sprayed into the room, despite knowing that the high back of the Grand Sage’s chair was specifically intended to protect its occupant from such things.  He looked up as a dark blur appeared on his right.

            The intruder swung at him with something that flashed in the light, but didn’t appear to be metal.  He caught the attacker by the arm, and used their momentum to throw them over his desk, towards the center of the room.

            The would-be assassin – a woman, wearing an Akademiya robe – landed on her feet.  A Cryo Vision flashed on her shoulder (that explained what her weapon had been made of), though something about it didn’t seem quite right.  She immediately turned back around and hurled two projectiles made of ice in Alhaitham’s direction.

            Alhaitham gave the woman a flat look as he caught the first projectile, and used it to deflect the second.  Cryo daggers, he could see now.  “Good afternoon.  I don’t suppose you’d be interested in leaving quietly, so I can get back to my work?”

            The woman’s only response was to throw more ice daggers.

            Alhaitham sighed, annoyed, as he ducked under his desk for a moment and located the controls for the Grand Sage’s office’s various security measures.  Two button presses later, there was a dull screech as metal shutters closed over the office’s many windows – including the one the assassin had broken to get in – and skylight.  Emergency lights switched on along the walls.  He heard the sound of ice shattering as he called up the Akasha.

            [Attention: Matra.  Armed intruder in the Grand Sage’s office.]

            He paused for a moment to look up at the intruder with Elemental Sight.  The “Vision” on her shoulder appeared dull and gray, despite the increased elemental sensitivity that had come with his ascension, but he could see a faint, blue-white glow at her waist.  The source was likely concealed by her robes.

            [Intruder wields Cryo.  Vision unconfirmed.]

            (If he had to guess, this woman was probably Snezhnayan, though she didn’t seem to be a Cryo Cicin Mage.  The thing at her waist was likely either a Snezhnayan Vision or a Delusion, given the apparent need to hide it.)

            An ice dagger slammed into the floor in front of him.  Alhaitham sighed again as he stood back up, deflecting two more daggers with the one he’d caught earlier before discarding the now half-melted mass of ice.  Locking the one intruder in was preferable to leaving the room open for any possible co-conspirators to enter, but came with the unfortunate drawback of preventing the first idiot from simply leaving once it became obvious that her target would not simply drop dead as easily as she’d probably expected.  Not that she seemed to have realized that, yet.

            (He would just wait this out in the Akasha, but that would raise way too many unwanted questions, when the Matra showed up to find him mysteriously absent.)

            He caught another dagger and threw it back at the assassin, then summoned three mirrors as the woman dodged the returned projectile.  She threw more daggers as she dodged the barrage of lasers he sent her way, but her shots flew wide.  She clearly couldn’t aim nearly as well while distracted – not that her accuracy had been especially good to begin with.

            A Cryo dagger shot past one of his mirrors.  Another dagger flew at each of his other mirrors, but he shot them both down easily, reducing them to puddles on the floor.

            (This woman didn’t seem to have had much of a plan beyond “jump in and stab”, nor did she seem to have much in the way of tactical skill.  Her throwing skills were clearly insufficient for this fight, but she was making no real attempt to close the distance between them, whether to get a better shot or to try attacking at melee range.  Neither of those things would likely actually help her, if the speed she’d demonstrated so far was the best she could manage, but pelting him with sloppily-aimed projectiles wasn’t exactly working, either.)

            Alhaitham rolled his eyes and folded his arms as three more daggers flew in his general direction.  He ignored the first as it passed half of an arm’s length to his left, tilted his head out of the way of the second, and caught and returned the third.  “This is just a waste of everyone’s time,” he said flatly.  “I suspect I already know who sent you, and I highly doubt they’re paying you enough to be worth all this trou – ”

            THUNK.

            Alhaitham blinked and looked down at the sound from his desk.

            An ice dagger glinted under the dim, slightly-eerie emergency lights.

            It was embedded firmly in a stack of paperwork labeled “Complete”.

            Alhaitham stared, silent, as water started to bleed through the stack of papers, letters and words melting together into an illegible mess of diluting ink.

            Ice shattered against the metal barrier covering one of the windows, but the noise seemed strangely distant, all of a sudden.

            The woman stopped throwing daggers, as the emergency lights’ reflections – on the floor, on gleaming Cryo, on puddles of melted ice – seemed to turn faintly green.

            She suddenly looked very, very afraid.

***

            “Matra passing, stand aside!”

            Cyno ignored the startled yelp a distracted scholar let out as he raced past her, turned the corner, and shoved his way through the hidden wall panel that only turned in the presence of a Matra ID badge.  Electro crackled around him, boosting his speed, as he started up the concealed stairs – one of three such stairways, spiraling up the narrow space between the inner and outer walls of the Akademiya’s central tower, centered on the elevator shaft connecting the House of Daena to the Grand Sage’s office above.

            The Akademiya was the seat of Sumeru’s central government.  It had stood for millennia.

            It was no stranger to attempts on its Sages’ lives.

            Need to hurry.  The intruder was reported minutes ago.

            Cyno listened as he continued to run.  The only footsteps he could hear were his own.

            Has no one else arrived yet?  Why isn’t there…?

            He ground his teeth in frustration, already knowing the answer.  The Matra had lost a lot of members in the wake of the recent change of administration – an unsettling number of officers had been in the corrupt Sages’ pockets, and several had been Fatui plants impersonating senior Matra who’d refused to be bought off.  All of those individuals had needed to be replaced, and new recruits could only be trained so quickly; the Matra were thus quite short on both hands and experience at the moment, right as they were handling a significant increase in workload due to everything that had happened.

            It didn’t help that, if he was recalling the time correctly, the most recent batch of recruits was currently in orientation – meaning several senior Matra were busy with them.  He wondered if, whoever the intruder was, they had planned their attack around this very fact.

            (Not important.  Focus.)

            … right.

            Cyno had been up these stairs before, but for some reason, today they seemed to stretch on forever.  He reminded himself that while a ladder would likely get him to the top faster, stairs were much safer.  The last thing anyone wanted, in a situation like this, was for someone to fall from the top, and take out everyone who’d been climbing behind them on their way down.

            Finally reaching the last step, Cyno all but threw himself against the false wall separating the hidden stairwell from the Grand Sage’s office.  Like the hidden panel he’d accessed the stairs through, this wall responded to his Matra ID, swinging upwards – taking the bookcase he knew was on the other side with it – to allow him entry.

            Cyno burst into the room, Electro flaring, claws already formed around his arms… and blinked, as he took in the scene before him.

            There was a woman, in an Akademiya robe, lying shaking on the floor.  Several Dendro mirrors were stuck through the loose fabric of her sleeves; a turquoise-bladed sword was planted firmly beside her, its edge only millimeters from her neck.  Cyno suspected she could probably get up, if she really wanted to; he also suspected that she wasn’t exactly eager to try.

            Alhaitham was sitting at his desk, calmly flipping through a stack of papers.

            … actually, “calmly” was probably not the right word to describe his present mood.  His face was impassive as usual, but Cyno could see the anger burning in the other man’s eyes.

            Cyno stared for a moment, then slowly let the Electro surrounding him dissipate, as his heart finally stopped trying to pound its way out of his chest.

            When Alhaitham didn’t look up, evidently not noticing that anyone else had entered the room, Cyno cleared his throat.  “Acting Grand Sage.”

            Alhaitham paused, blinked, and looked up.  He seemed… surprised.  “… General Mahamatra.”

            “Good afternoon, Acting Grand Sage.  Is… is this the intruder?”

            “… yes.  She entered through the window behind me and to my right.”  He paused to gesture at the window in question; the office’s security shutters were still closed, so the window itself wasn’t visible, but the multicolored glass shards on the floor made it quite clear that entry had been forced.  “She attacked using Cryo daggers – ”  He paused again, this time to point at a slowly-melting chunk of ice on the floor, which did, in fact, appear to have once been dagger-shaped.  “ – though I’m not certain what the exact source of her elemental abilities was.  She appeared to have a Vision, but it was evidently fake.”

            Cyno nodded slowly, observing the shattered glass object lying near the woman’s right shoulder.  The metal frame that also lay nearby clearly resembled the casing from a Sumeruan Vision, but he was well aware that Visions did not simply break.  “I… see.  Very well, I will go ahead and take her into custody.  Other Matra should be here to inspect the scene soon.”

            “Right.  And I suppose I should probably get out of the way…”  Alhaitham sighed as he stood up from the ornate chair.  “How inconvenient.  As if this nuisance hasn’t already wasted enough of my time by forcing me to redo half a day’s work…”

            … so that’s why he was so angry.

            (Stupid woman.)

            Alhaitham’s mirrors and sword vanished as Cyno stepped over to the intruder.  She didn’t resist as he turned her over and cuffed her hands together.

            “Anyway,” Alhaitham said, “I assume you’re going to need to look through everything here in case any of it turns out to be relevant, so I guess I’ll be taking a second lunch break.  Let me know if anything comes up, or whenever you’re done.”

            “Of course.  And… you’re not injured?”

            “No.  She didn’t manage to hit me with anything.  Whoever planned this farce clearly either overestimated this woman’s competence, or underestimated the difficulty of her task.”

            Cyno smirked.  Clearly.  They obviously weren’t expecting the Acting Grand Sage to be anyone particularly strong, much less the Dendro –

            He froze mid-thought, as the fog of alarm that had filled his mind for the last ten or so minutes suddenly lifted.

            Alhaitham stumbled as he stepped out from behind his desk.

            … right.  He’s the Dendro Archon.

            Cyno inhaled, exhaled, then turned and looked the Acting Grand Sage square in the eyes.  “It is good that you were not harmed,” he said tonelessly.  “Feel free to leave whenever you are ready; I will fill the other Matra in on the situation.”

            Green-and-red eyes seemed to flicker as they stared back at him.  “… I see.”

            Cyno turned away again, as he heard false walls swinging open, and strode forward to meet the Matra finally joining him in the office.

            Two more words, barely audible, drifted up behind him.

            “Thank you.”

            He did not turn back around.

Chapter Text

            “Cyno!”

            Cyno turned towards the familiar voice, and nodded in greeting as he saw the expected individuals approaching.  “Lumine, Paimon.  Have you found something?”

            They glanced at each other for a moment.  Paimon fidgeted a little.  “Um… well…”

            Cyno’s blood suddenly felt very cold, despite the desert heat.

            Something’s wrong.

            Lumine took a deep breath, then spoke.

            “It was Taj.”

***

            The window opened with a faint creak.  Cyno waited a few seconds, listening for any reaction, before silently entering the room in Shapur Hotel his target had been staying in for the last few weeks.  He carefully closed the window behind him, to avoid drawing attention from any random passersby.

            The window wasn’t close to the street, and his target would likely be busy with the blonde outlander and her fairy companion for the next few hours, but he knew better than to be careless.

            The Scribe’s recent work, and the relevant notes, were easy enough to find.  Cyno had picked many locks in his time as a Matra – keys had a way of disappearing, when someone was truly determined to keep something hidden behind a lock – and the one on the desk drawer was hardly complex.  The files and documents inside were also very well-organized, carefully sorted by date, and labeled in neat, easily-legible handwriting.

            Scribe Alhaitham was known for his laziness.  He clearly hadn’t kept such a high-ranking job by being sloppy or inefficient.

            Unfortunately, legibility did not necessarily equate to ease of reading.  Much of what the Scribe had been working on was apparently for some kind of personal project; the notes seemed to be written in a dizzying variety of different languages, possibly with a code or two thrown in for good measure.  Haravatat scholars’ secret research materials were always the worst to deal with, and Alhaitham’s work was clearly no exception.

            Cyno forced down the frustration boiling inside him as he flipped through the papers in search of something of use.  He’d been trying to investigate… whatever it was, that the Sages were working on, for over a month now, with no success.  No matter where he’d looked, or how quickly he’d worked, every lead he’d chased, every path he’d taken, had ultimately been nothing but a dead end.

            It was disturbing, how thoroughly the Grand Sage and his associates had managed to conceal this… project, of theirs.  Cyno had no idea how they’d done it.

            He had to get something out of the Scribe.  That order he’d gotten from the Sages was the only thing Cyno had left to go on.

            “We would like you to investigate the outlander detailed in this file.”

            “Oh?  You seem unusually interested in this… ‘Traveler’.  What could be the reason for this, I wonder?”

            “That is none of your concern; you just need to do as you’ve been told.  And you will be appropriately compensated for your time, of course…”

            Cyno frowned, shaking the memory from his head.  He needed to focus on the present.  The Scribe was busy with… whatever he was doing, for now, but that didn’t mean Cyno could afford to waste his time.

            He paused, as he finally found something he could read.  A file folder, labeled “The Traveler” – the details of Alhaitham’s assignment, presumably.

            Cyno opened the folder, and blinked as his eyes immediately fell on a sketch of the blonde outlander he’d seen the Scribe talking to multiple times over the course of the last few days.  The drawing was somewhat crude, but easily recognizable nonetheless.

            Interesting.  It would appear that Alhaitham’s theory regarding the Traveler’s potential whereabouts had been correct.

            “I will be in Port Ormos for some time.  I’ve looked into some reports on the Traveler’s past activities, and suspect that she may appear there at some point in the near future.”

            How he’d predicted that, Cyno wasn’t sure, but the Scribe’s intelligence was clearly nothing to sneeze at.

            Skimming through the file, Cyno quickly took note of the most relevant details.  Blonde, golden eyes, approximately one and a half meters in height.  Usually accompanied by a floating creature of unknown origin.  Visionless – that was interesting, he had seen her wielding Dendro against some Fungi a couple of days ago.  Or… actually, wait, hadn’t she used Electro?  Maybe the Scribe had been the one supplying the Dendro…

            Cyno shook that train of thought from his head, too; he needed to keep reading, for now.  He could work through the details of that memory later, when he didn’t need to worry about someone walking in on him because he’d been standing around too long.

            Continuing to skim through the document, Cyno frowned.  There was something… off, about this file, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  The information all seemed correct, if perhaps a little lacking in detail – it was a little strange that there didn’t seem to be anything on the Traveler’s actual strength or combat ability, given that she apparently wielded the elements without a Vision, and appeared to be quite skilled with a sword – but it was as if… there was something missing…

            Cyno froze, suddenly, as realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

            He glanced back at some of the other documents he’d found in the desk drawer – various other assignments the Scribe had apparently been working on, some information he’d picked up from various sources – all heavily annotated in assorted languages, indicating that they’d been carefully read for every possible detail.

            There was not a single line of notes anywhere in the Traveler’s file.

            As if… the Scribe had never actually read it.  Or maybe he had, but hadn’t actually cared about any of it.

            It was as if he’d never intended to follow the Sages’ order to begin with.

            Cyno stared at the unmarked file.  He… wasn’t sure what to make of this.  On the one hand, it seemed like this should be a good thing.  Whatever the Sages were up to, it was clearly nothing good, so the fact that one of their highest-ranking subordinates was apparently ignoring their orders should have been a relief.  Cyno could admit that he’d been somewhat concerned for that outlander’s safety, too – as strong as she appeared to be, she was just one person, and also seemed quite young.  That the Sages had sent someone as intelligent as Alhaitham to spy on her was… worrying, to say the least.

            And yet…

            There was a saying, among the students and scholars of the Akademiya.  “No truth hides from the General Mahamatra.”  Everyone knew that it was useless to lie to Cyno – he could see through every tell, every sign that someone was attempting to deceive him.

            Or at least, that was what everyone believed.

            It was a very useful belief… but not entirely true.

            Cyno was certainly very good at telling when people were lying to him.  He’d always had a sharp eye for detail, and he’d gotten very good at identifying tells in his time as a Matra.  But no one was perfect, and some people were just that good at lying.  There was also the occasional person who was so nervous just to be in the Matra’s presence, they could even make “the sky is blue” look like a lie – thus rendering the ability to spot tells useless.

            Fortunately for Cyno, he had another trick up his metaphorical sleeve.

            Nearly all who knew of the current General Mahamatra, also knew of the divine spirit that shared his body.  Of the spirit’s power, the beast-like form its host could take on.  But far fewer people knew of Hermanubis’s other ability – the ability to detect when someone said something that they believed to be false.

            It was not a power Cyno used casually.  In fact, he mostly avoided using it, given that his own skill at spotting tells was usually sufficient.  Hermanubis’s powers were fueled by the host’s soul, and while a soul could be surprisingly resilient, there was a point at which the damage would become permanent.  The spirit itself had warned Cyno of this danger many times, of the fate that awaited those who carelessly overused its power – “life” as an empty shell, an organic machine with no conscious thought, too little left of the mind to do anything more than the bare minimum required to sustain the body.

            That said, the spirit’s lesser-known power was very useful indeed, on the occasions that Cyno’s tell-spotting skills were not sufficient… and in those cases where he could not afford to make mistakes.

            His current investigation was one such case.

            Cyno could admit that he had been using Hermanubis’s lie-detection ability… a bit more than was probably advisable, recently.  But whatever the Sages were plotting, he couldn’t afford to let it continue unchecked.  It was too dangerous to risk the possibility of things getting out of control because he’d missed a tell somewhere along the way.

            Cyno’s soul was a small price to pay, to guarantee Sumeru’s safety.

            He’d checked every word of every conversation involving any one of the Sages.

            Including their conversations with a certain Scribe.

            “I will be in Port Ormos for some time.  I’ve looked into some reports on the Traveler’s past activities, and suspect that she may appear there at some point in the near future.”

            That had not been a lie.  The Scribe had shown no tells that Cyno could see.  Hermanubis had confirmed it for him.

            How could that be, if the Scribe had never planned to follow the Sages’ order?

            Had he changed his mind at some point after making that statement?  No, that didn’t make sense; he’d have read and annotated the Traveler’s file by then, most likely.

            Maybe there was something about the Scribe that interfered with Hermanubis’s power?  The spirit couldn’t detect lies from… no, that was preposterous.  The Scribe wasn’t a mechanical lifeform, even if some people claimed he acted like one.  And besides, no being that could deceive Hermanubis in such a manner would be capable of using an Akasha Terminal.

            So then… maybe he hadn’t lied.  Maybe…

            “I will be in Port Ormos for some time.  I’ve looked into some reports on the Traveler’s past activities, and suspect that she may appear there at some point in the near future.”

            … the Scribe had indeed been in Port Ormos for some time, at this point.  It was also entirely possible that he had read about the Traveler’s activities; he’d never said anything about retaining, or even caring about, any of that information.  And he’d never said he’d actually do anything, if he did encounter the Traveler at Port Ormos.  For that matter, he’d never even said he expected to encounter the Traveler in the first place – merely that he thought she might show up in Port Ormos at some point soon.  Maybe he’d be wrong.  Or maybe they wouldn’t run into each other.  He hadn’t said he’d actually look for her.

            Cyno – and, evidently, the Sages – had merely assumed that Alhaitham was going to Port Ormos with the intention of finding and investigating the Traveler.  They’d assumed that was the implication of his statement.

            And thus, they had been deceived.

            Thus, Cyno had been deceived.

            Cyno stared at the file in his hands for a moment, then slowly set it down, and started putting all the various documents and folders back in the desk drawer, exactly as they had been.  He… hadn’t gotten the information he really wanted from this search, but… he couldn’t seem to think straight, all of a sudden.  There were too many things flying around in his head, for him to properly focus on anything else he might find.

            There probably wasn’t much else of use to find, anyway.  He didn’t know nearly enough languages to read the Scribe’s notes.

            Cyno blinked as the sound of keys clinking outside the door abruptly pulled him from his thoughts.  He bit back a curse; the Scribe was back much sooner than expected, it seemed.  He quickly shut the desk drawer – it would lock on its own, he knew – ran back to the window, and let himself out, as quietly as he could manage.

            He managed to shut the window and duck out of sight, right as the door unlocked with a click.  He barely resisted the urge to try and check what was going on inside.

            Footsteps.  Silence.  More footsteps.

            Then, some muttering, barely audible through the closed window.

            “Strange.  Has somebody been here…?”

            Cyno forced down another curse as he quietly slipped away.

            Something told him that investigating the Scribe had only given him more problems.

***

            He couldn’t focus.

            Cyno ground his teeth in frustration, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it of the unwanted thoughts that had been plaguing him since that trip to Port Ormos.  He didn’t know why the results of his search of the Scribe’s hotel room were bothering him so much; it wasn’t anything that warranted this much concern.  If anything, he should be relieved that the Scribe didn’t seem to be working for the Sages.

            So why, then…?

            If Hermanubis’s power can be deceived in this manner, then how many times have I been wrong before?

            Cyno didn’t know why that thought was bothering him so much.  It wasn’t as if this was his first time encountering someone who used exact words to avoid outright lying; it wasn’t even the first time he’d questioned whether Hermanubis’s power had ever been tricked before.  But all the other times those thoughts had occurred to him, he’d been able to shake them off before long.

            No one was infallible, after all.  There was no benefit to wallowing in self-doubt; he just needed to learn from his past mistakes, and avoid making those mistakes again in the future.

            And yet, for some reason… this time, those unpleasant thoughts just wouldn’t go away.

            It wasn’t as if Cyno had never doubted himself before.  He’d even questioned, more than once, whether he really deserved his reputation as the unstoppable General Mahamatra.  Was it really fair to accept his reputation as the ultimate judge, the one who saw through all lies, given his secret advantage?

            Cyno had asked that question to his father, once.  In response, he’d gotten an explanation of something called “impostor syndrome”, and a reassurance that so long as he used his powers responsibly, there was nothing to be ashamed of.  Everyone had their own personal advantages, he’d been told; some were just more obvious than others.

            Since then, every time Cyno had found himself questioning his own abilities again, he’d always reminded himself of his father’s words.  That had always been enough.

            Until now.

            (Calm yourself.  Focus.)

            Cyno took a deep breath, nodding to himself in silent acknowledgment of the rumble from the back of his mind.  He needed to concentrate on what was before him – his investigation of the Sages’ project was still ongoing, after all.  He couldn’t afford to get distracted now; this was too important, too potentially dangerous to let things slip away from him.  He needed to –

            What if I’ve already made other mistakes?  What lies have I already missed?

            … he couldn’t focus.  His mind wouldn’t stop wandering.

            Why was this happening now?  After he’d put so much time into this investigation, all the effort he’d put into getting the right information, so he could make the right decisions…

            Is this why I keep running into dead ends?  Where have I gone wrong?

            Cyno growled, shaking his head again.

            Why wouldn’t those thoughts go away?

            Why now?

            Why only after…

            I shouldn’t have looked at the Scribe’s work.

            Cyno took another deep breath, and dropped down from the tree he’d been resting in.  He needed to hurry and get to Aaru Village; he’d overheard a conversation between the Grand Sage and his secretary earlier, mentioning that a certain Scribe had requested time off for a research trip to the desert.  The time off request would most likely take a few days to be processed, and the actual research trip would likely not be until a few days after that, but with no other leads to go on, Cyno could afford to put some time into a stakeout… just in case his target showed up sooner than expected.

            I need to be careful.  The Scribe cannot be trusted.

            … that was the reasonable conclusion, wasn’t it?  If his own judgment could be trusted, then how dangerous must someone who could even deceive him be?

            (…)

            He ignored the faint tingle of Electro in his mind.  There were more important things to worry about, now.

***

            There.

            Cyno tensed slightly as he saw the three figures approaching.  His target had arrived right on time – but it seemed he’d picked up some company along the way.

            The golden-haired outlander again, and her flying companion.  They were still oblivious to the danger they were in, it seemed.

            No matter.

            Cyno reached for Hermanubis’s power in preparation to strike, only to frown as Electro sputtered, ethereal purple claws flickering around his arms.  He’d been having some difficulty calling upon the divine spirit, lately; he wasn’t quite sure why.  Had he been using it too much?

            … it was fine.  He could make do without it.

            Letting the spirit’s power dissipate, Cyno summoned his staff to his hand.  He had to do this quickly; there was no knowing when there’d be another opportunity to capture the Scribe, if he made it to Aaru Village.

            Taking a deep breath, Cyno got a running start, and leaped across to the other side of the canyon – he’d have a better angle of attack, from here.  He turned back around, checked that the Scribe was where he’d expected, and jumped.

            It was a perfect ambush.  The other man didn’t even look up as Cyno plunged down from above.  He spun his staff around for momentum, drew it back, and swung it down on –

            “Look out!”

            CLANG!

            Metal struck metal.  Cyno blinked as he found himself staring into golden eyes, rather than the green and red he’d been expecting.  Some meters away, the Scribe looked up, startled, as he stumbled to a halt, even as he summoned his own weapon to his hand.

            Cyno suddenly felt as if he’d been doused in ice water, even as he pulled away from the Traveler’s counterattack.

            Why would she…?

            Even as he sped forward again, charging at his target head-on, even as he swung and dodged and swung again… his mind provided the answer, the realization of what this must look like, through the eyes of an outlander who likely had no idea who Cyno was.

            Even as he pulled back again, wondering where in the world an administrative worker had learned to fight so well, even as some voice in his head shouted at him to hurry, before his target fled to the safety of Aaru Village… his mind told him to stop, and look at what he was actually doing.

            Cyno took a deep breath, and stopped.

***

            Cyno gazed out at the cliffs and rock formations surrounding Aaru Village, thinking over the events of the last few days.

            The Scribe’s words echoed in his mind.

            “Do you still remember who you are, General Mahamatra?”

            He slowly inhaled, then exhaled.

            Should I really believe him?  There’s still no proof that…

            (…)

            It was… a difficult question.

            On the one hand, the Scribe – Alhaitham – was undoubtedly intelligent enough to deceive them all, if he wanted to.  He’d fooled Cyno once already, before.

            And yet… for some reason, Cyno didn’t think he was being misled, this time.

            It was difficult to say for sure, of course.  Alhaitham was a Haravatat graduate, one of the best his Darshan had ever seen – and his mastery of his academic element showed, in every word he spoke.

            There was something distinctly unnerving, about a person who could deceive you without ever speaking an outright falsehood.

            And yet, as suspicious as some of the Scribe’s behavior was, the justifications he’d given for his actions were entirely reasonable.  And while there was little evidence to confirm that his words didn’t have some alternate meaning the rest of them weren’t picking up on, there was no evidence that they did, either.  His interactions with Lumine were possibly suspicious, in light of that order from the Sages, but Lumine herself had admitted that it had been her own choice to even talk to him, and that he had in fact helped her evade a group of Eremites, presumably sent by the Akademiya.

            And his claims regarding the Sages’ use of the Akasha’s computation functions…

            There was no real evidence that those claims were true.

            But it would explain a lot, if they were.

            A voice pulled Cyno from his thoughts.  “Cyno!  We’re ready to leave!”

            He looked down from the roof of the building he was sitting on, to see Paimon waving to him from in front of the village chief’s house.  Lumine and Alhaitham stood behind her.

            Cyno paused, then nodded.  “Very well.  I’ll be right there.”

            He stood up, as Paimon turned to Lumine and started chatting away about something or other.  Alhaitham made some comment, prompting the fairy to turn and yell at him, but from the amused look on Lumine’s face, it probably hadn’t been anything serious.

            Cyno watched for a moment, then dropped down to the ground.

            He was aware, that he might be making a mistake.  Those unpleasant thoughts hadn’t gone away, not completely.

            But they were a lot quieter, now.  Less persistent.

            Cyno wasn’t exactly sure why.  Maybe it was because they’d actually been making some progress, these last few days, as opposed to running in circles between dead ends.  Maybe it was because he’d been able to sleep in an actual bed, in an actual village, after weeks of camping out in the hostile wilderness.

            Maybe it was the sense of having allies again, for the first time since he’d exiled himself – well over a month ago, now.

            Even if their alliance might only be temporary.

            Cyno took a deep breath.

            It had been a long time, since his head had felt so clear.  Since he’d been able to work, without his mind drowning in endless questions of whether he was making the right decisions.

            It was a good feeling, to be able to trust his own judgment again.

***

            Time seemed to grind to a halt, as Cyno raced into the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

            His blood turned to ice, as he took in the scene before him.

            Lumine, staggering forward.  Paimon hovering anxiously at her shoulder.  A bloodstain on the side of the Sanctuary’s central pedestal.

            Lesser Lord Kusanali, motionless on the floor, Dendro pouring from her chest and back.

            Questions flooded into his mind.

            What had happened?

            How had this happened?

            How did I fail to prevent this?

***

            “Taj.”

            The gray-haired man turned at the sound of his name.  His face showed no indications of surprise.  “Hello, Cyno.  It’s been some time since I’ve seen you last; I trust you are doing well?”

            Cyno forced himself not to growl at his former partner.  “You can drop the act.  Explain why you are here.”

            He could feel Lumine and Paimon watching uneasily behind him.  He ignored it.

            “… I’m afraid… that’s a little difficult.”  Taj paused, looking down at the ground for a moment.  “I suppose you could say… I’ve changed.”

            Electro crackled at Cyno’s fingertips.  “Is that so?”

            “Of course.  The way I see it, every person will end up like me, sooner or later.”

            Cyno inhaled, then exhaled.  Electro sputtered around him – Hermanubis’s power had been acting up again, lately – but he forced the energy to flow through the resistance, ignoring the way it seemed to burn in his blood.

            “I was like you, once.  Young, living solely for the justice in my heart.  Never doubting my actions… until Murtada died.  Can you imagine what it feels like, to live with that pain and regret?  To not have the will to live, and yet be unable to die?”

            “So you came in search of the Court of Desolation’s treasure, then?  You know there’s no such thing as the power to bring the dead back to life.  The ‘treasures’ you sought are nothing but myths and legend.”

            “If you’re so sure about that, then why don’t you just let me open the door and see?”

            “You know I can’t do that.”

            “Please, Cyno.  As an old partner, can’t you let me fulfill this last wish?  Just this once?”

            Cyno snarled, familiar violet claws flaring into existence around his arms.  “We’re not partners anymore, Taj.  This ends, here and now.”

            He charged forward, before anyone else could react.

            Taj did look startled, now.  The older man drew his polearm; Cyno immediately swatted it out of its wielder’s hands.  He grabbed his ex-partner with a single clawed hand, and slammed him to the ground.

            Cyno glared into suddenly-wide eyes.  “I trusted you.  Why have you done this?”

            Terror flickered, then faded into something resembling resignation.  “I’ve already told you, haven’t I?” Taj said quietly.  “I’ve changed.”

            “… I see.”  Cyno pressed one enormous hand down on the older man’s chest, drawing his other arm back in preparation to strike.  “In that case, you will face judg – ”

            (Stop!)

            Cyno froze, at the sudden pressure in the back of his mind.

            (He’s lying.)

            He blinked, as everyone else in the room stared.

            The sudden silence was deafening.

            (Speak.  Listen.)

            “Cyno?”  Paimon.  “Is… is everything okay…?”

            Cyno took a deep, shuddering breath, then slowly, cautiously, allowed the divine spirit’s power to fade.

            “… yes.  Everything is fine.”

***

            “It’s the General Mahamatra and the Flame-Mane!  Run!”

            “That’s right, Fatui rats!  Run to your mommies like the cowards you are!”

            Screams filled the air, as Pyro and Electro danced between the trees.  Explosions rocked the Fatui camp as its terrified inhabitants scrambled to escape the sudden assault, leaving even their weapons behind in a desperate attempt to gain speed.

            Scum, all of them.  Cyno didn’t normally take pleasure in inflicting pain – it was often unavoidable, in his line of work – but these were hardly normal circumstances.

            He knew these grunts likely had nothing to do with recent events… but their superior had already fled, so there were no more appropriate targets for the Nation of Wisdom’s rage.

            If nothing else, their fates might serve as a lesson to their friends watching from afar.

            There was a rustling of leaves, and then the fleeing Skirmishers, Agents, and Cicin Mages suddenly found their escape routes blocked by a wall of metal and red.

            Rahman smirked, cracking his knuckles, as he and his brigade glared at the surrounded Fatui, eyes flashing with malicious glee.  “Going somewhere?”

            The Eremites and General Mahamatra descended upon their prey like starving wolves.

            Three days into their hunt, Cyno was starting to feel like a starving wolf, himself.

            No matter.  His exhaustion wasn’t important right now.

            Electro howled, as the divine predator and its host rained terror upon the ones who’d wronged their god.

***

            Five days.

            They’d been hunting for five days.

            Cyno took a deep breath as he saw the thin trail of smoke rising from the Fatui camp up ahead.  This one was still occupied, it seemed.

            He reached for the divine spirit’s power.

            (You are tired.  Rest.)

            He ignored the faint growl, the dull, burning sensation in his veins, as Electro flared to life around him, sparks flickering on his claws and headdress.

            There was no time for rest.

            There was still work to be done.

***

            “You’ve been leading us along this whole time, haven’t you, Scribe?”

***

            “It’s General Mahamatra Cyno!  Everybody run!”

            Cyno snarled as he leaped across the desert sands, slamming a clawed hand down on the first smuggler in his way.  He knocked the smuggler out with a burst of Electro, then dove after the other members of this group, his Vision’s power burning like fire in his veins.

            These smugglers would pay, for what they’d done to his old partner.

            He raced from one target to the next, Electro flashing, until no one within sight remained conscious, except for him.  He took a deep breath as he allowed Hermanubis’s power to disperse, then quickly tied up each of his new prisoners, before calling up his Akasha Terminal to send a message back to Matra headquarters.

            [Suspects captured.  Please transport from current location to HQ.]

            He took out the list of names Taj had left at his home, and marked off the names of his newest captives – or at least, the ones the Akasha could identify – then turned to continue his sweep of the desert.

            (Rest.)

            There was no time to stop and rest; there were far too many suspects still left to hunt down.  None of them could be allowed to escape.

            Cyno had already made too many mistakes as it was.

            (You are making a mistake now.)

            Questions flooded through his mind, as he raced across the seemingly-endless dunes of the Hypostyle Desert.

            How did he not realize Taj hadn’t actually betrayed him?

            How had this smuggling ring grown so large, right under his nose?

            Who else have I failed, by not acting soon enough?

            (No.)

            Who else have I failed, because I trusted those that I shouldn’t?

            (Stop.)

            Who else have I failed, because I didn’t trust those that I should?

***

            The hardest part of being a judge, was having to judge oneself.

            The hardest part of judging oneself, was looking at one’s own actions and beliefs, and having to admit that they were wrong.

            Cyno ground his teeth together as he threw yet another smuggler to the ground, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it of the unwanted memories that kept flooding in.

            An expression of disappointment.

            Green-and-red eyes, staring down his claws.

            Dendro-green eyes flickering in pain, seemingly in response to his anger.

            Cyno growled, Electro flaring, burning, as he lunged at two smugglers who’d attempted to flee while he was distracted by the rest of their traveling party.

            He’d long criticized those who grew overly dependent on the Akasha, to the point where it would distort their perception of reality.

            Who was he to do that, when he was having so much trouble accepting that Hermanubis’s ability to detect lies was not infallible?

            He’d criticized those who’d rejected Lord Kusanali, when she was no longer exactly what they expected from an Archon.

            Who was he to do that, when…?

            No.  Those questions are irrelevant.  The current Archon cannot be trusted.

            He didn’t need all these unwanted thoughts.  He didn’t need these questions drowning his mind, making it impossible for him to think.

            He didn’t need this endless sea of self-doubt pulling him down.

            Why am I doing this?  I can’t keep running from –

            Cyno threw himself at the last conscious enemy with a feral snarl.

            He just wanted these thoughts to end.

***

            “Good evening, Grand Sage – ”

            “Acting Grand Sage.”

            “A-ah, yes, sorry.”  The Matra – one of the newer recruits, if Alhaitham remembered correctly – paused and cleared his throat before speaking again.  “Good evening, Acting Grand Sage.  Apologies for the delay; here’s this week’s regular Matra activity report.”

            “Thank you.”  Alhaitham took the document from the messenger and started flipping through it.  “Since you’re here, I assume the General Mahamatra has still not returned?”

            “Ah… yes, sir.  It would appear that he’s still working on that smuggling case…”

            “I see.”  He paused, skimming over the details of the report.  “Is there anything of note to report this week?”

            “Well, we finished interrogating the intruder from a few days ago.  It… doesn’t actually appear that she was sent by anyone.  As far as we can tell, she was just a scholar from Snezhnaya who felt threatened by recent actions against the Fatui…”

            “Interesting.  When did she get that counterfeit Vision?”

            “Shortly after the incident with Le – with Lord Kusanali, sir.”

            “And no one noticed that her Vision’s nation of origin had suddenly changed?”

            “Well, she’d kept her Vision hidden even before then, it seems.  Given that the Fatui have never been popular…”

            (… he couldn’t really fault her for that, admittedly.  Trying to assassinate him was hardly a stroke of genius, though, if her goal had simply been to avoid removal from Sumeru; remaining beneath notice would have been a much better approach.)

            “I see.  Don’t make any decisions on what to do with her yet; let’s see if she ‘remembers’ anything else in the next few weeks.”

            (Either she was lying, and the Matra hadn’t caught her out on it yet… or she was just an idiot.  Hopefully Cyno would have time to ask her a few questions, whenever he got done with his investigation into that Canned Knowledge smuggling ring.)

            “Yes, sir.  Is… is there anything else you need?”

            “Just one question.  What was the reason for the delay on today’s report?”

            “Oh, uh… well, it was actually mostly done on time, but… we got a bunch of suspect transport requests all at once, all of a sudden, just before the weekly cutoff.  There’s more still coming in, too.  A bunch of people have been out handling those, so it took a while to process that information for the report…”

            Alhaitham glanced up at the recruit for a moment, frowned, then looked back down at the report, and turned to the last page.  Sure enough, there was a long list of entries for new suspect captures, all timestamped for the last twelve hours or so before the official end of the week.

            He paused, scanning over the list of transport requests.

            Dozens of requests, with multiple suspects captured in each location.

            Nearly a hundred suspects captured, in just half a day… and more still coming in now, nearly a full day later, with no mention of any false reports.

            Alhaitham frowned again.

            (He didn’t like this.)

            Lumine and Paimon had stopped by the day before, late in the morning, to report that Cyno had made a significant discovery regarding his current case.  They’d been… oddly sparing with the details, only telling him that Cyno had said he was taking care of a few last things, and that the case had gotten somewhat… personal.

            The first suspect transport request had come in less than an hour later.

            A certain voice echoed in Alhaitham’s memory.

            “I’ve been kind of concerned about Cyno, lately.  He’s been working way too hard!  I mean, yeah, I know he works really hard all the time, but… there’s a difference, you know?  He hasn’t joined us at the tavern in weeks, or talked about playing Genius Invokation, or reading King of Invokations… he didn’t even try to make any of his awful jokes the last time I saw him!  And Tighnari said that sometimes Cyno works harder when he’s stressed, and that just doesn’t sound healthy, you know…?”

            (He didn’t like this at all.)

            Alhaitham looked up at the Matra recruit standing before his desk again.  “Have you been keeping track of the request locations, by any chance?”

            “Uh, yes, actually.  Would you like that information, sir?”

            “Yes.  Send me the list via the Akasha, please.”

            “Yes, sir.  Anything else?”

            “That will be all.  You are dismissed.”

***

            Electro roared.

            A scream.  The man Cyno had found hiding in some ruins scrambled to his feet and ran.

            Fool.

            Cyno snarled as he gave chase.

            Enemy.  Prey.

            Another scream.  Claws flashed, barely missing, turning desert sand to glass.

            Don’t let escape.

            He ran as fast as he could, dropping to all fours to gain more speed.

            The world blurred, everything seeming to fade, except for his claws and his prey.

            Enemy.  Catch.  Must not –

            There was a flash of green.

            The fleeing man fell with a scream.

            A tall, white figure – a ghost? – appeared before him.

            A voice.  Words he couldn’t make out.

            He snarled again, and lunged at the new enemy.

***

            He dropped towards the ground as he finally saw the violet glow of Electro below him, cutting off the flow of Dendro just as he hit the sand.  He quickly put a mirror through one of the fleeing Treasure Hoarder’s legs, took a moment to send a suspect transport request back to Matra headquarters, then turned his attention back on the reason he was here.

            Cyno glared at him, silent, hunched forward like some kind of half-human beast.  Blank red eyes flashed under the glowing, enlarged headpiece.

            “General Mahamatra,” he heard himself say.  “You’ve worked hard enough.  It’s time to go home for the night.”

            Cyno snarled, claws and eyes blazing furiously as he charged forward.

            The Gnosis had no reaction.

            (Something was very, very wrong.)

            He dodged as claws slashed wildly through the air, through sand.  Cyno’s movements were frenzied, with none of the precision or efficiency he’d seen on the few opportunities he’d had to observe the General Mahamatra using his divine spirit’s power before.

            “Cyno, you need to stop.  You’re out of control.”

            The only response was a feral howl.

            (Cyno was out, it seemed.  They’d have to do things the hard way.)

            He dodged another swipe of the enormous claws, then summoned his primary sword, and slammed the pommel down on the back of the glowing headdress.  Cyno yelped and staggered forward at the impact, but did not fall.

            The General Mahamatra whirled back around, teeth snapping, flashing under the dim moonlight.  He noted the unusual sharpness of the incisors, the slightly-elongated canines.

            Claws scythed again.  He caught the General Mahamatra by one arm this time, and threw him to the ground.  Claws and feet scrabbled on sand as Cyno got back up on all fours.

            He dodged backwards as Cyno – or whatever beast this was, that had taken Cyno’s body – lunged at him again, Electro flashing on teeth and claws as they snapped, and slashed, and tore wildly through the air.  He cut off another snap of teeth with an elbow to the stomach, prompting another inhuman howl.

            The beast wearing Cyno’s skin got back up again, somehow still showing no signs of slowing down.

            (No good.  He didn’t dare use more force, but this wasn’t working, either.)

            Sand flew as Cyno charged at him again.

            (Think.  There had to be some way to make him stop.)

            Another snarl, sand turning to glass as the massive claws flared with –

            He paused.

            His eyes fell on the orb of violet glass on the back of the General Mahamatra’s belt.

            (… he hoped Cyno would understand.)

***

            Claws.  Fangs.  Claws again.

            Ghost.  Enemy.  Fight.

            Pain in his stomach.  Sand everywhere.

            Get up.

            The ghost hovered in front of him.

            Enemy.  Fight.

            He snarled, kicking sand out of the way as he lunged forward.

            Ghost.  Enemy.  Destroy –

            Pressure around his wrist.  Flying.

            Sand in his face, under his chest and stomach.

            Pressure on his back.

            A voice.

            “… rry… no.”

            Something pulled on his Electro.

            …!  No!  Stop!

            He struggled.  Thrashed.

            More pressure.

            The pull grew stronger.

            Mine!  That’s –

            SNAP.

            … mine…

            His Electro

            was gone

            He was

            so

            tired

***

            Dark.

            Sound.

            “… C… n y… h… e…?”

            Less dark.  Blurry.

            Smell.  Food.

            Eat.

            “… m g… r… k…”

            … warm.

            Safe.

            …

            Blurry.

            Smell.  Like plants, but not plants.

            Colorful.  Don’t eat, make sick.

            More sound.

            “H… no.  I… e… na…”

            Warm.

            …

            Smell.  Food.

            “… e m… y… C…”

            Eat.

            …

            Noises.

            Birds.  Water.

            Colorful.  Not-plants.

            “… ey C… l… at I… t.  It… y… cl…!”

            Dark.  Soft.

            “… r… let m… p y… p… it… n…”

            Warm.

            Familiar.

            …

            Food.  Eat.

            Hard, then soft.  Warm.

            Sweet, sour.  Meat.  Hot, but not hot.

            Familiar.

            Like home.

            …

            Not-plants again.

            Less blurry.

            Black, green.  Many colors.

            “H… Cyn… nt t… lay… ds…?”

            Flat.  Colorful.

            Funny rocks.

            Colorful.  Throw.

            Clatter, clatter.

            Nice sound.  Throw again.

            Rattle, clatter.

            …

            Food.  Eat.

            Hard, soft.  Rice, meat.

            Sweet, sour.  Not-hot.

            “… p… se w… up…”

            …

            Soft.  Green.

            Feet.  Wet.

            A voice.

            “… ri’s… king to Lu… d Pai…. ey brought all the th… one sent… Everyone really… ses y… ow?  Ev… n asking if… you’re ge… ter…”

            … warm.

            Chest.  Tight.

            “… ose dice M… K… ly neat.  And you can u… rahs Ni… sent to… ake Tah… And it’s nice that… ought to g… that box… kations for you…”

            Look up.

            Green hair.  Purple eyes.

            Familiar.

            Don’t touch.

            “Oh, and e… stadt sent a… rd, too!  There’s a note… M… Lisa… s your senior, right?  And… ber sent some Wolf… s nice that she remembered… liked them…”

            … also familiar.

            Green eyes.  Electro, like him.  Wind, many voices.

            “… we miss y… Cyno…”

            … chest.  Tight.

            “Oh!  I almost for… aster Ti… ri and I came up w… some j… tell you!  Hang on, let me… find the list…”

            …?

            “Here, um… sorry if… t very good… okay.  Um… what will happen if… steal Candied Aji… Nuts from Aaru… lage?  You’ll get y… just deserts!”

            … candy.  Dessert.  Desert.

            Funny.

            “Um… oh, this one’s… d.  Why are people who stud… talism always angry?  Because they’re from Spanta-mad!”

            Strange word.  But familiar.

            Red.  Father.  Senior.

            “Get it?  Because people from Span… dy elemental… and another word for ‘angry’… ad’?  I mean, I guess… not always angry, but…”

            … strange sound.

            Not laughing.

            Why not laughing?

            “Okay, um, here’s one more…”

            Purple eyes.

            Wet.

            “What do you call… en – when some… breaks into a house in G… va Ville?”

            Don’t know.  What?

            “Forest entry!  Get it?  Because… b-because…”

            Strange sound.

            Purple eyes.  Wet.

            Crying.

            “I-it’s funny because… Gandharva Ville is in… the f-forest…”

            Not laughing.

            Should be laughing.

            Wrong.  Fix.

            “And…”

            No.  Stop.

            “… and…”

            Need to talk.

            “… Cyno… please wake up…”

            Need to fix this.

            “… it’s funny because…”

            Purple eyes looked up, and blinked.

            “… because ‘forest’… sounds like ‘forced’.  And if someone broke into a house… that would be ‘forced entry’.”

            The girl stared at him, and blinked again.

            “Cyno?”

            “… that was… a very funny joke.  Collei.”

            A sheet of paper fell from the girl’s hands.  Her eyes seemed to quiver.

            “At least… I thought it was – ”

            “Cyno!”

            He blinked, as the girl – Collei – suddenly threw her arms around him.

            Strange.  Doesn’t she dislike –

            “Master Tighnari?  Master Tighnari!”

            He blinked again as Collei turned – somehow without letting go of him – and shouted… someone’s name.  He tried to pull away, thinking that maybe he’d done something wrong, but she only held onto him tighter.

            Another voice came from one side.  “Collei?”

            He looked in the direction of the new voice to see… a young man, with dark hair and long fox ears, running up, looking concerned.  “Collei, is everything – ”

            The man – Tighnari – stopped, a few meters away, and stared.  Green-and-orange eyes blinked.  “… Cyno?”

            “He talked!”  Collei’s voice was still shaking, but… in a different way, from before.  “I was telling him our jokes, and – and he explained why one of them was funny!”

            Tighnari stared some more, then slowly took a step forward.  His hands were shaking, which was strange; Tighnari’s hands never shook.

            “… Cyno.  Are… are you there…?”

            He blinked, again.

            That’s… my name.

            “… yes.  Hello, Tighnari.  Collei.”

            Tighnari took another halting step forward, then suddenly broke into a run again.  He dropped to the ground beside them, and threw his arms around Cyno as well.

            “Idiot.  Don’t ever do that again.”

            Cyno paused for a moment before responding.  “Did… did I misunderstand the joke?”

            Tighnari let out a choked laugh.  “You’ll figure it out soon enough.”  A pause.  “We’re glad you woke up, you big lummox.”

            Cyno paused again, then slowly raised his own arms, to return the others’ hug.

            “… I’m glad I woke up, too.”

            There was a low rumble, from the back of his mind.

            (Welcome back, Cyno.)

***

            Cyno sat in Tighnari’s small living room, looking at the various things that had been laid out on the table in front of him.  He’d been… “out”… for ten days, the others had told him.

            It was… a little surprising, how much he’d apparently been missed.

            There was a small basket, holding a plate he recognized as one of his father’s.  Whatever food had once been on the plate was now gone, but a single Padisarah petal had been left behind, and the basket still smelled faintly of meat, fish, and spices.

            He could almost see himself following that smell through the familiar house, again.

            There was a small, wooden box, containing several elemental dice for Genius Invokation TCG.  The dice were clearly custom-made; they were a bit larger than standard mass-produced dice, and a bit heavier than the difference in size alone would account for.  They were also made from wood, rather than metal.  The colors had been applied using dyes, rather than being painted on – aside from the elemental symbols on each side, which were carved directly into the wood, and colored in with what appeared to be a very thin layer of silver paint.

            The dice were slightly too large to be practical for actual gameplay, but he couldn’t deny their maker’s craftsmanship.  There was also a set of… accessories… for the dice – a miniature version of Cyno’s headdress; a green, leaf-like cape with a pair of long, black fox ears; and a red cape, with a turquoise quill on one side.  He wasn’t sure if these accessories were meant to serve any functional purpose, but they were certainly nice to look at.

            The other items were… less elaborate.  There was a card from Mondstadt, signed by his senior, Lisa, and a surprising number of her coworkers; Cyno didn’t even recognize half of their names.  Collei’s friend, Amber, had also sent a box of those strange, spiky berries that only grew in the lands of the Wolf of the North.  There was a small bundle of Padisarahs in a glass jar – far more practical than most temporary decorations, since the flowers could be dried and stored for use as a cooking ingredient.  A set of recipe cards for various desert dishes, including modified versions of Aaru Mixed Rice and Gilded Tajine.  A limited-edition box set of the first volume of King of Invokations, that had only been available in Inazuma – he’d wanted to go purchase one of those himself, but hadn’t been able to find the time, given how much work he’d had recently.

            … he hadn’t realized until now, just how much he missed doing anything that wasn’t in some way related to his work.

            Tighnari’s voice came from the other side of the table.  “Are you starting to remember more, now?”

            Cyno paused.  “… yes.  I… I’m sorry, to have worried all of you.”

            He wasn’t lying.  It was somewhat frightening, thinking back now, and realizing just how close he’d been to losing himself for good.

            “Well, we’re glad you managed to make it back, at least,” Tighnari said.  “We honestly didn’t know if you would.”

            Cyno nodded.

            I’m surprised I did, after so long.

            (You were lucky, this time.)

            He slowly inhaled, then exhaled.

            I was.

            Tighnari’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.  “Well, in that case, are you finally ready to talk about what’s been going on with you these last few months?”

            Cyno blinked, and looked up.  “I… what?”

            The Forest Watcher gave him a flat look.  “Don’t look so surprised.  Did you really think nobody would realize anything after this whole mess?  Admittedly, I should have said something sooner – I’ll accept the blame for letting you convince me that you’ve just been really busy since the ex-Sages were overthrown – but you’re not fooling me now.”

            Cyno stared.

            “… I’m really going to have to spell this out to you, aren’t I?  Fine.  You’ve been stress-working for months, Cyno.  I noticed it.  Collei noticed it, even if she didn’t really understand.  Heck, Kaveh noticed it – in fact, I suspect he’s the reason someone actually got to you in time.  Again, I should have said something way sooner, but it seemed plausible enough that you really were just that busy.  Even then, I probably still would have stopped you, if I’d known you were overusing the divine spirit so much.”

            Cyno opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out.

            He… wasn’t sure what to say, really.

            “You’re not normally so careless with the spirit’s power,” Tighnari said, more gently.  “Something must have been bothering you for a while, for things to have gotten so bad.”

            Cyno hesitated.  Normally, he tried to avoid conversations like this.  A small part of him wanted to avoid this conversation, too.

            And yet…

            He shifted in his seat.  Something bumped against his chest.

            He looked down at his Vision, hanging from the collar of his cloak, gold and violet shining against black fabric.

            Electro seemed to pulse inside him.

            (Talk.)

            Cyno paused, then opened his mouth again.

            He talked.

***

            The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky a brilliant shade of orange, as Tighnari stepped through the front doors of the Akademiya.  He made his way through the main hall and the House of Daena, nodding a quick greeting to a few familiar faces along the way, to the elevator to the Grand Sage’s office.

            The Matra standing guard glanced at him, raised a hand to her Akasha Terminal for a few seconds, then nodded, and motioned for him to step onto the platform.

            Tighnari slowly inhaled, then exhaled, as the platform rose.

            He couldn’t say he wasn’t nervous, given who he was about to speak with… but they needed to have this conversation, sooner or later.

            It’ll be fine.  He can’t be too unreasonable, considering how he and Cyno came to know each other in the first place… and considering Cyno still has his job, after all this time.

            He took another deep breath, as the elevator stopped, and stepped forward to stand before the Grand Sage’s desk – or perhaps, more accurately, the Acting Grand Sage’s desk.

            Said Acting Grand Sage looked up, green-and-red eyes meeting Tighnari’s own.  “Forest Watcher Tighnari.”

            “Good evening, Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham.  I’m here to report on the status of General Mahamatra Cyno.”

            A nod.  “Very well.  Go on.”

            Tighnari paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking.  “The General Mahamatra has… regained consciousness… as of about ten thirty this morning.  His memories were somewhat spotty, at first, but have mostly returned over the course of the day.  Though it’s still a little too early to say for certain, it does appear, for now, that he will make a full recovery from… his previous condition.”

            Alhaitham watched him for a moment, before nodding again.  “I see; that is good news.  Judging from your tone, though, I take it that’s not your full report.”

            “Right.”  He paused again.  “Just to check, has anyone actually told you… what caused Cy – the General Mahamatra’s condition, in the first place?”

            “… I’ve heard it was… something of a personal matter.  Go ahead and explain, so we can be sure that I have the relevant details straight.”

            … Cyno wasn’t kidding about his precision with words.  I know he knows, from speaking with Cyrus at the Bimarstan, but without already knowing that…

            “Alright, then.  So, as you’re most likely aware, the General Mahamatra draws a… not-insignificant amount of power, from a divine spirit that inhabits his body.  This is the source of his ability to take on the… beast-like… form that he is known for.  What is less well-known, however, is that this power uses the host’s soul as fuel.  The soul regenerates over time, but the damage can become permanent if it’s too extensive.”

            The Acting Grand Sage nodded again, more slowly this time, as if he was processing the information he’d just received.  “I see.  I can see how that would cause the exhibited symptoms; I imagine damage to the soul would also have a substantial effect on the mind.”

            “Right.  The symptoms also worsen more quickly as damage accumulates, while the rate of regeneration decreases.  In other words, the more the spirit’s power is used, the more quickly the host’s mental state deteriorates, and the longer it takes to recover from the damage.  As you might imagine, this can be… something of a slippery slope.”

            “… indeed.  And I assume you are explaining this to me because the General Mahamatra is not ready to return to work, yet?”

            Tighnari blinked.  “Uh… yes, that’s correct.”

            It was one thing, to know of the Acting Grand Sage’s intelligence and bluntness; it was another to actually speak with him, and suddenly be prompted to skip a significant portion of a planned explanation.

            “I am aware that you and Cyno are quite well-acquainted – or at the very least, you know him far better than I do.  You also have more medical training and knowledge than I do, so I will trust your judgment on this matter.  Though… first, are you able to confirm that Cyno does, in fact, intend to return as General Mahamatra, once he is sufficiently recovered?”

            “Y – yes.  He does.”

            Another nod.  “Then, do you have an estimate of how long he will be away?”

            “Uh…”  Tighnari floundered a little.  Knowing of the Acting Grand Sage was definitely not the same thing as actually speaking with him.  “It’s… hard to say for certain.  There’s not a lot of prior literature regarding this sort of thing.  But between the actual damage to the soul, and the underlying factors that led to the present circumstances… maybe a month?”

            That’s… probably something of a high estimate.  He’s probably going to negotiate down, though, so –

            “I see.  Granted.”

            Tighnari blinked again.  “Wait – that’s – really?”

            “Well, there’s paperwork involved, obviously.  Here’s the required form.”  Alhaitham pulled some papers from a nearby file folder, having apparently already expected that they would be needed.  He flipped through the document, filling in a few pieces of information, then held it out to Tighnari.  “Get those filled out and sent back as soon as possible.”

            “Uh… right.  Thank you.”  Tighnari took the stack of papers, still a little thrown by how quickly the conversation had proceeded.  It hadn’t gone badly, by any stretch of the imagination, but it was still… surprising.

            This is… surprisingly good timing, though.  Collei’s been wanting to visit her friends in Mondstadt since her Eleazar was cured, and the Windblume Festival’s coming up.  And wasn’t there some artist Cyno talked about wanting to commission something from…?

            The Acting Grand Sage’s voice cut into his thoughts.  “Right, then.  Was there anything else you needed to report today?”

            Tighnari blinked, again.  “I… no, that should be all, for now.”

            “Good.  In that case – ”

            “Ah, wait!  There’s… well, not something else to report, but… there is one other thing.”

            “… alright.  Go on, then.”

            “Uh…”  Tighnari fumbled for a second.  He could see how the Acting Grand Sage had gotten his reputation, even if he was clearly not a bad person.  “I… I wanted to say thank you, as well.  For… for helping my friend.”

            “… I assume you mean Cyno.  There’s no need for that; I’m merely taking the logical steps to correct a problem that has arisen.  The last thing I need is for this incident to repeat itself because the General Mahamatra returned to work too soon, and again, I trust your judgment with regards to his current condition.”

            “Ah, no, that’s not what I was talking about.  I was talking about… finding him.”

            A pause.  “I see; there’s no need to thank me for that, either.  The General Mahamatra’s sudden extreme increase in work activity was concerning, so I ensured that the individuals who could most efficiently deal with the matter were properly informed.  Again, merely taking the logical steps to correct a problem I had observed.”

            … he really is good at saying only what he wants people to know, while still telling the truth.  I guess… I’ll have to be more direct.

            Tighnari took a deep breath.  “That’s not what I meant, either.  What I mean is… thank you for bringing him back.”  He paused.  “Lord Idris.”

            Silence.

            Tighnari paused again, then blinked.

            Alhaitham suddenly looked very, very tired.

            “How did you find out?”

            Tighnari blinked again.  “Uh… well, I recognized your voice.  On Coronation Day, and… at the Bimarstan.”

            “… I see.  And I imagine our mutual acquaintances have had plenty to say about me.”

            “Uh, that’s – ”  It suddenly occurred to Tighnari that someone as intelligent as the Acting Grand Sage would obviously be well aware of their own reputation – especially with how vocal certain people could be.

            It also occurred to him that their aforementioned mutual acquaintances… both had far better relationships with him, than they did with Alhaitham.

            The Acting Grand Sage smiled wryly, evidently already seeing Tighnari’s thoughts from his expression.  “It’s fine.  I don’t care what anyone thinks of me.  Keep that piece of information to yourself, though; I have enough work as it is, without the unnecessary attention.”

            “Uh… right.  I understand.”

            Being Archon of Sumeru hasn’t exactly been an easy job these past few centuries, has it?

            “Good.  Well then, I still have several things to take care of before leaving for the day; if that’s everything, then I would like to get back to work.”

            “Ah… right.”  Another pause.  “Though… if I may…”

            Alhaitham had turned back to whatever it was that he’d been working on before Tighnari had entered his office, but now he looked up again.  “Yes?”

            Tighnari paused, again.  “For what it’s worth, I meant what I said just now.  Thank you for finding Cyno, and bringing him back.  And Cyno knows what you did for him, too.”

            He paused, one more time.

            “Thank you, Alhaitham.”

            Alhaitham blinked.

            More silence.

            Then, a faint smile.

            “You’re welcome.”

Chapter Text

            It started with an emergency commission from the Bimarstan.

            The commission came in just as Lumine and Paimon were reporting to Katheryne for the day.  The Bimarstan had apparently been hit by a sudden surge of cases requiring Harra Fruit and Padisarahs, and was in urgent need of a resupply; they were just about to run out, and the regular deliveries weren’t due in until the end of the week.

            Lumine didn’t think much of this, at first.  It was hardly uncommon for the Adventurers’ Guild to get supply requests of this nature; it wasn’t even the first time Lumine had taken one specifically from the Bimarstan, even just in recent memory.  That the previous supply request had also been for Harra Fruit and Padisarahs was probably just an odd coincidence.

            That thought died, as soon as the Bimarstan came into view – and with it, the crowd that seemed to have gathered outside its front doors.

            “What’s with all these people?” Paimon wondered, as they squeezed their way through the crowd.  “It doesn’t seem like they’re patients; do you think something weird happened?”

            Lumine frowned.  “I don’t know.  Maybe the staff can tell us something.”

            As instructed in the commission details, they reported to the Bimarstan’s receptionist, who let out a frazzled-sounding sigh of relief as they informed her that they were there with the requested supplies.  She thanked them repeatedly for the prompt delivery, and assured them that their payment would be sent to the Adventurers’ Guild by the next day; they’d shown up much sooner than expected, apparently, and the Bimarstan’s staff hadn’t yet had time to prepare their compensation, for which she apologized profusely.

            Lumine glanced around the front lobby as the receptionist called for someone to collect the delivered materials.  The Bimarstan was clearly extremely busy; there were staff everywhere, all seemingly hurrying to get to someplace or another.  She wondered what was going on.

            A tug on her scarf pulled her out of her thoughts.  She turned to see Paimon pointing at something further inside the building.

            “Whatever’s going on must be a pretty big deal,” the fairy said.  “Look!”

            Lumine did – and blinked, as her eyes fell on the hooded, cloaked figure standing in a corner, talking to Doctor Zakariya.

            Alhaitham.

            Lord Idris.

***

            Lumine had not actually expected to be told much about what was happening, at least not by the Bimarstan’s staff.  From her experience, medical facilities didn’t just give out information outside of official channels.  She didn’t know what policies Sumeru had on that matter, but she hadn’t seen anything to indicate that it was an exception to the trend, either.

            The Bimarstan seemed desperate for any possible source of help or information, though.  Doctor Zakariya talked readily when she and Paimon approached to ask about the situation, only pausing briefly to check with his Archon that doing so would be alright.

            As it turned out, the cause of the chaos was a sudden outbreak of what appeared to be some kind of extreme hypersomnia.  People were falling asleep, seemingly at random, and not waking up.  There didn’t seem to be anything actually wrong with any of the patients, as far as the Bimarstan’s staff had observed; none of them appeared to be sick or injured in any way.  They just… couldn’t stop sleeping.

            This was, apparently, the latest in a series of increasingly concerning sleep-related issues that many of these patients had been having over the course of the last couple of months.  Most of the people who were now stuck in this strange, unending sleep had first come in complaining of abnormal drowsiness, then of increasing difficulty waking up.

            Eventually, many of these people had stopped coming in, at which point the Bimarstan’s staff had assumed that their problems had been resolved… until those same patients had started being brought in by distressed friends and family members, or sometimes even strangers.  Some had simply gone to bed, or lain down for a nap, and failed to wake up; others had outright fallen asleep out of nowhere, sometimes without anyone even noticing for some time.

            The first cases of this endless slumber had appeared about a week ago; since then, the number of patients being brought in with the same condition had exploded.  The Bimarstan was now overflowing with people who could not wake up, for no apparent reason.

            Lumine could see how this matter had drawn the attention of Sumeru’s Archon.

            Doctor Zakariya led them down the Bimarstan’s halls, past room after room filled with endlessly-sleeping patients and their anxious family members.  Lumine shuddered as two staff members walked past, carrying a stretcher covered by a sheet.

            Zakariya glanced at her, and sighed as he saw what she was looking at.  “We’re already losing patients with weaker constitutions,” he said quietly.  “Their bodies are giving out from the constant mental fatigue.”

            Dendro-green eyes turned to the doctor for a moment.  “Mental fatigue?”

            “Uh, yes, that’s right.  The patients coming in with this… condition… are consistently showing high levels of brain activity, despite their unconsciousness.  We suspect they might be dreaming.  Sleepwalking is also common, immediately after losing consciousness, and most patients continue to talk in their sleep…”

            Lumine blinked.  “Wait, dreaming?”  It took her a second to realize why that seemed so familiar.  “Is it possible that this is something like what happened on the Sabzeruz Festival?”

            “Well… yes, we did consider that possibility.  We’ve already removed all of the patients’ Akasha Terminals, though, so that doesn’t seem to be the cause…”

            Alhaitham’s eyes narrowed a little, as if he was frowning.  He stopped, looked into the room they’d been walking past, then glanced back at Zakariya – who paused, then slowly nodded – before stepping inside.

            Lumine and Paimon glanced at each other, then slowly followed as the doctor entered the room as well.

            The patient in this room was a man.  A young girl wearing a medical eyepatch sat next to his bed.  She appeared to have been crying.

            The girl looked up, visible eye widening as she seemed to recognize the tall, cloaked individual now standing at the foot of the bed, reading the patient’s medical chart – but quickly looked away again, when the Dendro-green eyes glanced in her direction.

            Alhaitham seemed to ignore this reaction.  “So this is Ilman?”

            “Uh, yes,” Zakariya replied.  “He’s… one of the first patients to have been brought in.  Some Matra responded to a disturbance call near Vimara Village, found him and his daughter, Haydar – ”  The doctor paused to nod at the girl.  “ – being attacked by monsters, and brought them back to the city.”

            “I see.”  A pause.  “One moment, please.”

            Haydar looked up again, as Alhaitham’s eyes seemed to flicker through a few different shades of green.  She stared at him for a moment, then turned to Doctor Zakariya.  “Is… is Dad going to die…?”

            The doctor quietly shushed her.  “It’s alright.  The Archon’s just here to try and figure out what’s wrong, that’s all.”

            Haydar paused, then turned away again, whimpering.  “… I want my dad…”

            Zakariya looked like he was about to say something else, but Alhaitham suddenly spoke again.  “The Traveler is correct.  It appears that someone is using the Akasha to induce a never-ending dream, similar to the Sabzeruz Samsara.”

            Zakariya looked up at him and blinked.  “Really?  But… the patients’ Akasha Terminals have already been removed.  How are they still connected?”

            “It would seem that the patients are connected to the Akasha by… some kind of signaling device, somewhere on their persons.  I am not sure as to the exact nature of this device; have any of the patients had any… unusual items, in their possession?”

            “Er… no, not that I’m aware of.  I can ask some staff to check…”

            “That would be a good idea.”  Alhaitham paused, seeming to frown again.  “Interesting.  That would explain a few things.”

            “Huh?”

            “It’s nothing you need be concerned with.  Just something I’ve been trying to figure out for some time.”  Another pause.  “In any case, dealing with this matter should be… reasonably straightforward.  Let’s not discuss the details here, though.”  His eyes flicked briefly to Haydar.

            “Ah… yes, sir.  Would the hallway be alright?  I can try to find an empty room…”

            “The hallway should be fine.”  Alhaitham paused again.  “Though… one more moment, first.  While we’re here, I think this particular individual has slept long enough.”

            Haydar looked up at him, and blinked.

            Dendro-green eyes flickered again.

            A few seconds passed.

            Ilman stirred.

            Doctor Zakariya blinked.  “Wait – what?  What did you…?”

            “It was nothing complicated.  I merely cut off his signaling device’s connection to the Akasha, thus terminating the forced dream.  He’ll be waking up shortly.”

            As if on cue, Ilman opened his eyes, and blinked.  “… Maynar…?”

            “Ah!”  Zakariya quickly moved to the side of the bed, opposite of Haydar.  “Mr. Ilman, a – are you awake?  Can you hear me?”

            Ilman blinked again.  His eyes suddenly went wide.  “Maynar?”

            “Uh, no, sir.  I’m – ”

            “Maynar!”

            Zakariya jumped back a little, startled, as his patient abruptly sat bolt upright.  “Mr. Ilman, sir!  Please don’t move so suddenly, you’ve been asleep for – !”

            Ilman seemed to ignore him.  “No, no, no… why?  Why did I wake up?  Why have I…?”

            He paused, suddenly, as his eyes locked on to the white-cloaked figure standing a short ways away.  He blinked, again.

            “… Lord Idris?”

            Alhaitham raised an eyebrow.  “Good morning.”

            Another blink.  “I… huh – what?  Why are…?”

            “Uh, let me explain,” Zakariya interjected.  “Good morning, Mr. Ilman.  You are in the Bimarstan; you’ve been asleep for… approximately one hundred and eighty hours, due to, uh, a dream induced by the Akasha.  Can you tell me what you remember from – ”

            “Wait, the Akasha?”  Ilman turned to the doctor.  “You said… my dream was caused by the Akasha?”

            “Uh… yes, sir, that would appear to be the case.  Fortunately, Lord Idris was able to – ”

            Something seemed to flash behind Ilman’s eyes.

            Alhaitham’s eyes suddenly flickered – differently, from before.

            Lumine froze, as the air started to buzz with Dendro.

            “‘Fortunately’?”  Ilman turned back to – or, perhaps, on – his Archon, his expression twisting in rage.  “You – you woke me up?!  Why?!”

            “Er, Mr. Ilman?  As I was saying, you’ve been asleep for – ”

            “I know I was asleep, shut up!”

            Lumine instinctively took a step back; she felt Paimon ducking behind her.  Her eyes flicked to Alhaitham – who now seemed to have gone very still.

            Alhaitham slowly inhaled, then exhaled.  “Ilman,” he said, his voice even.  “As the doctor has stated, you were asleep for about one hundred and eighty hours.  That’s a little more than one week.  Furthermore, you were being forced to dream during that entire time; that kind of mental strain can be very dangerous.”

            Ilman glowered, seemingly unbothered by this piece of information.  “And that’s why you dragged me away from my wife, Archon?”

            A pause.  “… I think I may be missing a few details.  Your wife is…?”

            Ilman hesitated for a moment at that, some of the anger seeming to drain from his face.  “… my wife’s name was Maynar.  She… passed away, some time ago.”

            “I see.  And you saw her in your dream?”

            “… yes.  Or… maybe I should say, I’ve been seeing her in my dreams.”

            “This has been going on for a while?”

            “Yes.  About… two months, now.”  Ilman paused again.  His expression shifted again, this time to a soft smile.  “It’s been… wonderful.  Almost like…”

            “… I see.”  Alhaitham paused for a moment, his eyes shifting downwards, as if he were thinking.  “I can understand, now, why you would wish to continue dreaming.  However, the fact remains that you could not do so indefinitely.  The mental strain from the induced dream would eventually have killed you.”

            Ilman’s expression turned cold again.  “Is that – ”

            “Furthermore, you should know that you were found unconscious, out in the wilderness.  I am sure you can see how that might be problematic.”

            Ilman blinked.  “… oh.  Right.  I… forgot that I’d gone to that place again…”

            “… ‘that place again’?”

            “Oh, uh, yes.  There was a place where Maynar and I would meet up regularly, in my dreams.  I eventually decided to go there while awake, about… a few weeks ago.  When I did, I immediately had another dream about Maynar.  Unfortunately, the adventurers who escorted me there woke me up pretty quickly – I almost sleepwalked off a cliff, apparently – and I couldn’t find anyone to take me there again… so I went on my own, this time.”

            Alhaitham was silent, for a moment.  “Let me make sure I understand this correctly,” he finally said, slowly.  “You went to a place you’d seen in your dreams, which caused you to fall asleep without warning, and nearly walk off of a cliff.  You then returned to this location alone, when you could not find an escort for your second trip.”

            “Well… not exactly alone, actually.  I went with my daughter; I… wanted her to see her mother again, even if it would only be in a dream.”

            “… let me amend my previous statement, then.  You returned to this location, alone with your young daughter, because you could not find anyone to escort you.”  He paused, as Ilman nodded to confirm that this was correct.  “I see.  Ilman, you need to listen very carefully.  Do not return to that location, under any circumstances, until the cause of these forced dreams has been identified and neutralized.  It is extremely dangerous; there is no guarantee you will return safely again.  Do you understand?”

            “Wait – but – ”

            “I am not exaggerating, Ilman.  You cannot return to that place; you have spontaneously fallen asleep there twice now, and required rescue both times.  Even if this is a coincidence – ”

            “You understand nothing!”

            Alhaitham’s eyes flickered again.

            Ilman glared, and kept talking, ignoring Doctor Zakariya’s attempt to interject.  “You’re Lesser Lord Kusanali’s successor, aren’t you?  She must be disappointed, that the new ‘Archon’ is someone so utterly clueless.  You know nothing of humans, or our feelings, or our grief.  All I want is to see my wife again; is that really so hard to understand?”

            Lumine shifted uncomfortably at the sheer venom in Ilman’s voice.  The temperature in the room almost seemed to be rising, with the amount of elemental energy that was pouring out of the Gnosis, into the air.

            She could only imagine how much pain the Gnosis’s host was in.

            Alhaitham, for his part, was showing surprisingly little reaction, though the visible sweat and slight shudder in his breath betrayed his discomfort.  His voice remained impressively even as he spoke.  “It is a fact of life that we cannot always have the things we want.  And sometimes we can, but only at a cost too steep to accept.  This is the reality all people must eventually face, mortals and gods alike.”

            “Please, spare me your ‘wisdom’, ‘Archon’.  You don’t understand any – ”

            “You mentioned your daughter, earlier.  Haydar, correct?”

            Ilman paused.  “… yes.  How did you…?”

            “Know her name?  Doctor Zakariya told me.”  Dendro-green eyes glanced pointedly to one side.  “She’s been waiting for her father to wake up.”

            Ilman looked in the direction his Archon had indicated… and went very still, as his eyes fell on the girl still sitting silently at his bedside.

            “As for your plan to take her to see her mother…”  Alhaitham paused.  “Doctor Zakariya, did Haydar display or report any symptoms of her father’s condition?”

            The doctor blinked.  “Uh… no, sir.  None at all.”

            “I see.  I think we can assume, then, that she did not experience the induced dream.”

            “Wait… but…”  Ilman’s voice shook, as his expression changed to one of horror.  “How can that be?  She was with me in…”

            “In your dream?”

            Ilman didn’t respond.

            “For what it’s worth, the fact that she didn’t enter the dream with you is very much a good thing.  You, an adult, were able to withstand the mental strain of spending an entire week in the forced dream, but I cannot say if a child would have survived that long.  Fortunately, we have not had to learn the answer to that question… at least, not from Haydar.”

            Silence.

            “Again, I advise you not to return to that location from your dreams – especially not with your child – until the cause of the induced dreams has been dealt with.  There may not be anyone to rescue you, next time.”  Alhaitham paused again, and turned back to Doctor Zakariya.  “I think that will be all, here.”

            Zakariya blinked again.  “Oh, uh – yes, sir.  Let me… let me get these two settled; I’ll join you in the hall when I’m done.”

            “Of course.”

            And with that, Alhaitham turned, and left the room.

            Lumine and Paimon glanced at each other, then followed, closing the door behind them.

***

            They found a quiet corner to speak in.

            Lumine watched, uneasily, as Alhaitham slumped a little against the wall, eyes shut in obvious pain.  “Are you okay?”

            He took a deep breath before responding.  “I’m fine.”  A cough.  “That was… not pleasant.  I’ll be alright, though.”

            “… alright.  If you say so.”  She paused, trying to think of something that might work as a distraction.  “So… what exactly was going on in the Akasha, anyway?  And you said… there was something you’ve been trying to figure out…?”

            “… right.”  Another deep breath.  “Back when I first reactivated the Akasha System, I noticed something… odd.  As you are aware, I disabled the Akasha’s ability to harvest dreams, thus cutting off its supply of Jnana Energy – or at least, that was the intent.”

            “Oh yeah, Paimon remembers!  You had us test that for you!”  Paimon paused, and frowned.  “But… from the way you said that…”

            Alhaitham nodded.  “A few days after the full reactivation, Jnana Energy started coming in again, with no apparent explanation.  There were no reports of anyone having issues dreaming as a result of sleeping with an Akasha Terminal on, nor could I find where the incoming energy was coming from.  The signaling devices being used to spread this forced dream, however…”

            “Oh, Paimon gets it.  Someone’s using some other thing to make people dream and keep collecting Jnana Energy, right?”

            “That appears to be the case, yes.”

            “Huh.  Well, it’s good that we know what was causing that, now.  But ugh, is someone really doing this dream-stealing thing again?  You’d think people would know better, after all the stuff with the old Sages…”

            “Unfortunately, some people can be very foolish, very desperate… or some combination thereof.  I can only speculate as to the culprit’s motivations for now, of course, but… you’d be surprised, what lengths some individuals will go to, to justify actions that are obviously stupid or unacceptable.”

            Lumine frowned.  “Yeah… So, uh, you said this whole thing should be straightforward to resolve, right?  Is this like the Samsara, where there was a ‘host’ sustaining a shared dream, and waking the host woke everyone else as well?”

            Alhaitham paused.  “I don’t know for certain, with regards to the actual mechanics of the dream.  I saw that there was a dream connected to the Akasha, and that Jnana Energy was being collected from multiple individuals, but I was unable to actually enter the dream, or see inside it.  I do know of a way to stop the dream, though, regardless of the details.”

            “Oh, that’s good!” Paimon said.  “So, what do we do?”

            Alhaitham looked like he was about to respond, but another voice interrupted him.  “Lord Idris, Traveler, there you are.  I was wondering where you’d gone.”

            They turned, to see Doctor Zakariya walking up to them.  Lumine noticed Alhaitham straightening his posture, from the corner of her eye, as the doctor approached; she also heard him inhale sharply, then make a noise like he was stifling another cough.

            The Gnosis must really have hurt him a lot, just now.

            Zakariya’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.  “Sorry for the wait; a few extra questions came up while going through the usual procedures, you know how it is… so, uh, anyway.  Lord Idris, you said you know how to wake everyone from the forced dream?  Er, well, you obviously woke Mr. Ilman just now, but…”

            “I was speaking of resolving this matter entirely,” Alhaitham clarified, “not just waking everyone.  Simply waking everyone currently in the induced dream would be pointless, after all, if they’d all just fall back into it as soon as they go back to sleep.”

            “Ah… yes, that’s an excellent point.  What should we do, then?”

            “We should first attempt to gather as much information about the origins of this dream as possible.  From what I was able to observe, everyone who is currently unable to wake up is now inside a single mass dream, created by the Akasha.  Given the noted similarities to the Sabzeruz Samsara, it’s possible that this dream also has a ‘host’ maintaining its existence, while everyone else is merely… a ‘guest’, of sorts; we should start by attempting to locate the host, to determine how this dream was created in the first place.  Even if the host is not actually responsible for the problem, they may have some insight as to how this all started.”

            Zakariya nodded, slowly.  “I see.  That does make sense.  So how do we find the host?”

            “Well, logically, the dream’s host must have been the first person inside the dream, since they are the one who generated it to begin with.  As such, we should look for the first people who fell asleep, particularly any who may have done so under… unusual circumstances.”

            Another nod.  “Right.  Well, I mentioned that Mr. Ilman was one of the earliest cases, but he’s obviously already awake… uh… Sorry, I think I’d better go look at our records.  There’ve been so many patients being brought in, they’re all starting to blur together…”

            “Not a problem.  We’ll waste more time running around like a flock of headless chickens, than by taking the time to properly think things through.”

            “Yes, of course.  Let’s head to the…”

            Alhaitham glanced at Zakariya as the doctor’s voice suddenly trailed off.  “Is something the matter, Doctor?”

            Zakariya blinked.  “Actually, it just occurred to me that… there was a patient who was brought in under very strange circumstances, a much longer time ago than everyone else.  He’s been asleep for… five or six months, now.  I wonder if…”

            Alhaitham seemed to frown.  “That’s… a very long time.  I’m surprised this person is still alive, after so long.”

            “Well, his symptoms are… quite a bit different, from the others.  I’m not entirely sure if his case is actually related to this matter, honestly.  But he is someone who fell asleep, and has since been unable to wake up…”

            “… I see.  Let’s go ahead and take a look; it shouldn’t be too much of a waste of time.”

            “Right, then.  His room should be over this way…”

***

            Doctor Zakariya led them to a room deep within the Bimarstan, in the hall reserved for extreme-long-term patients.

            “This is Beynuni,” Zakariya said, indicating the man occupying the room’s bed.  “He’s a scholar from the Kshahrewar; as previously stated, he was brought in about five or six months ago.  I believe his colleagues said… he’d been experimenting with the Akasha…”

            Alhaitham looked at the doctor for a moment before entering the room.  “Interesting.”  He picked up the patient chart hanging at the foot of the bed.  “Extremely low brain activity, no sleepwalking or sleep talking… very interesting.  Let me see if I can find him.”

            Lumine slowly walked up to the bed, Paimon following close behind her, as Alhaitham’s eyes started flashing through various shades of green again.  She suppressed the urge to shudder as she saw the patient; he was extremely thin, barely more than skin and bones.  Admittedly, that wasn’t actually surprising; it made sense that a person wouldn’t have much in the way of muscle mass, after not eating or even moving in so long.

            It was still unsettling, though.

            Alhaitham spoke again after about a minute.  “Well, what do you know.  I believe we’ve found our host.”  He paused, looking down at the sleeping man.  “I have to say, whatever he was trying to accomplish with this, he’s certainly… dedicated, to his research.”

            Zakariya blinked as he joined them beside the bed.  “What do you mean by that, sir?”

            “Well, it does indeed appear that he is inside the shared dream, with everyone else who is unable to wake up.  That’s what the Akasha is telling me, at least; I’m unable to actually see him.  He doesn’t appear to be… connected, by anything.”

            Lumine and Paimon blinked, now, as well.  “He’s not?” Paimon asked.  “How exactly is he in there, then?”

            “An excellent question.  While I can’t say for certain, I think I have a decent hypothesis.  If you recall, the Akademiya has developed technology for extracting Canned Knowledge from people’s brains, which can then be uploaded to the Akasha System.”

            “Um… yeah, Paimon remembers.”  Paimon shuddered a little.  “Paimon still thinks that’s kind of scary, though…”

            Alhaitham seemed to ignore that last part.  “Well, one thing that was also tested, was the possibility of uploading a person’s entire consciousness to the Akasha.”

            Everyone else blinked again.  “A person’s… consciousness?” Zakariya said, his voice taking on a slight tinge of horror.  “Is… is that even possible…?”

            “Apparently, yes.  There are records of successful experiments in the Akasha… and what would appear to be living proof, here in this room.  For some definition of ‘living’, at least.”

            “Living…”  Paimon grabbed onto Lumine’s arm, her face turning pale.  “Nope!  That’s way too scary!  Paimon doesn’t want to think about it!”

            Lumine took a deep breath to steady herself before speaking.  “So, do you think someone uploaded Beynuni’s consciousness…”  She paused, suddenly remembering Alhaitham’s previous words.  “… wait.  You said he was… Hold on, are you saying that Beynuni might have uploaded himself to the Akasha?”

            “Oh?  Very impressive; I wasn’t expecting anyone to put that together so quickly.”

            Paimon’s grip on Lumine’s arm tightened.  “He uploaded – waahh!  That’s so scary!  W-why would anyone do that?!”

            “Well, there are certain… advantages, to such a thing.  For example, the ability to more directly interface with the system, similar to what I can do with my ability to physically enter the Akasha – though probably not to the same extent.”  He paused.  “There’s also the fact that, with the consciousness fully disconnected from the body, the body becomes unable to wake up – until the consciousness returns, at least.  Perhaps you can see where I’m going with this.”

            Lumine blinked, again.  “The body becomes unable to wake up… so if the person whose consciousness was uploaded is the host of a shared dream…”

            “Very good.  A shared dream collapses, if its host wakes up – thus, if the goal is to keep the dream going for as long as possible, then the ideal host is someone who cannot wake up.  If Doctor Zakariya is correct, and Beynuni here wound up in this state as a result of experimenting with the Akasha… then I’d say there’s a fairly obvious conclusion.”

            “… he uploaded himself, then constructed the mass dream – using himself as the host, so it would never end.”

            “Correct.  Though, again, I can only guess as to what he hoped to accomplish with this.  Perhaps he was simply curious as to whether or not it could be done; perhaps there was a more… practical… motive.  That’s not really our concern for now, though; we’ll leave that for the Matra to figure out, once our host here is back in his body.”

            Doctor Zakariya blinked.  “I, uh – the Matra?  And… you can return him to his body?”

            “Yes, and probably.  With regards to your first question, this patient is currently our most likely suspect, as far as creating this induced dream that people have been falling into; the Matra will likely want to ask him some questions, at the very least.  Even if it turns out that he is not the one actually responsible, there is a fair chance that he will have useful information.”

            Alhaitham paused.  “As for your second question… the shared dream was created using the Akasha.  Based on… prior research, the dream is at least partially sustained by the Akasha’s basic functions; if the power required for said functions is cut off, the dream should collapse, as if the host had woken up, thus releasing its current… ‘occupants’.  Its guests should then wake up, while Beynuni will most likely be ejected into the Akasha proper.  Since his consciousness has been uploaded, it is now simply data; I should be able to extract it into a Knowledge Capsule, once he is no longer hidden within his dream, at which point it can be downloaded back into his body via an Akasha Terminal.”

            Zakariya paused, then slowly nodded.  “I… see.  I’ll admit, this isn’t really my area of expertise, but… what you’re saying does make sense.  Uh, not to suggest that I don’t trust your judgment, sir.”

            “No offense taken.  This solution is, admittedly, somewhat experimental, simply due to the nature of the situation; there isn’t exactly a lot of prior literature available on this subject.”

            “Understood.  Uh… so how will this go, exactly?”

            Alhaitham paused again.  “I will call for a Matra to come handle Beynuni, and speak with you regarding his… accommodations.  Based on his appearance, I have to assume that he will be remaining here for some time, rather than going straight to Matra headquarters.  In the meantime, you should prepare some staff to deal with the other patients who will be waking up… especially those with nobody waiting for them.”

            Doctor Zakariya blinked.  “Ah – yes, that’s an excellent suggestion, sir.  I’ll get started on that right away.  Though, uh… would the three of you mind stepping out into the hall, for now?  I’m afraid there can’t be so many people in here without a qualified staff member present…”

            “Not a problem.”

            They all exited the room, Doctor Zakariya quietly closing the door before hurrying off to prepare the Bimarstan’s staff for what was about to happen.  Lumine watched as he disappeared down the hall.

            “A Matra is on the way,” Alhaitham said, his eyes seeming to glow faintly.  “We’ll get started once they’re here, and the doctor has returned.”

            “Right.”  Lumine paused.  “By the way… do you think… any of the other patients might be like Ilman…?”

            “It’s highly likely.  Based on what we know about the progression of this matter – how patients reported various other sleep-related issues for some time, eventually stopped coming in, then suddenly showed up unconscious and unable to wake – it seems probable that many of them have been having some very pleasant dreams, which they may have intentionally sought out after the first few instances, and might prefer not to wake up from.”

            Paimon blinked.  “Um – wait, but – in that case, won’t they be…?”

            “They will probably be rather displeased with me, yes.”

            “What?!  You’re way too calm about this!  Um, hang on, maybe there’s… oh!  Right!  Lumine, we need to go catch up with Doctor Zakariya, and have him tell everyone not to tell the patients that A – Lord Idris woke them up!  That should – ”

            “Don’t waste your time with that,” Alhaitham cut in, tonelessly.  “Completely shutting off power to the dream won’t exactly be subtle; people will figure it out soon enough.  It makes little difference whether they find out now or later, so we might as well ensure the actual facts are known.  Misinformation and speculation will only make things worse.”

            “Um… okay, yeah, that makes sense.  Then… maybe you could wake people up a few at a time, and not all at once?  That way…”

            “I considered that approach, but there are multiple drawbacks to doing things that way.  First, keep in mind that many patients have been in the induced dream for quite some time at this point; the mental strain is already taking its toll on the weaker individuals.  The longer it takes to wake everyone, the more casualties there will be.”

            “Oh… yeah, that’s true…”

            “Furthermore, to wake people in smaller numbers, I would have to manually disconnect each ‘guest’ from the Akasha, before finally collapsing the dream to extract Beynuni; this would increase the likelihood of Beynuni realizing what is going on, and possibly finding some way to escape capture.  This method would also deprioritize guests whose locations may not be known – it’s possible that some guests are currently asleep somewhere outside the city, as Ilman was, and may be in more immediate danger.  They should not be left dreaming longer than necessary.”

            “… that’s true, too…”

            “Finally, dragging things out wouldn’t actually help much in the end, anyway.  For one thing, I have too much other work to spend all day here, waking everyone who’s asleep a few at a time.  And for another… it’s unlikely that everyone who will be upset about being woken up will calm down as quickly as Ilman did; it would also likely be impractical to wait for them to calm down before moving on to other patients.  It’ll be better to set off the explosion and leave, than to spend all day standing in a steadily-growing fire.”

            Paimon stared at him, looking as if she wanted to argue, but had nothing to say.

            “It’s fine.  I imagine one of the others would have said something by now, if there could be any… more permanent… consequences.”

            “… what if they don’t know…?”

            “… well.  I guess that would be bad luck for me.”

            They were all silent, after that.

            A Matra showed up about ten minutes later, and bowed to his Archon.  “Lord Idris, sir.  We received your briefing on the situation; what are your orders?”

            “Matra Aarav.  You’ve already reviewed the plan?”  Alhaitham waited for the other man to nod before continuing.  “Very good.  We are currently waiting for Doctor Zakariya to return from informing the Bimarstan’s other staff of what is going to be done.  Once he has done so, I will terminate the shared dream and extract the suspect’s consciousness, as described; you will then be given custody of the resulting Knowledge Capsule, to be downloaded into the suspect’s body once the appropriate arrangements have been made.  As stated, I will trust you and Doctor Zakariya to deal with that matter as necessary.”

            “Understood, sir.”

            Doctor Zakariya returned about twenty minutes after that.  He glanced at the Matra, standing to one side, then turned back to his Archon.  “We’ve prepared the best we can, with the staff we have available.  Are we ready to proceed?”

            A slight nod.  “If both of you are.”

            Zakariya nodded back, then opened the door to let everyone in.

            Alhaitham closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them again.  “I will now isolate the section of the Akasha that the dream is connected to, thus cutting off power to that area.  The dream should collapse shortly thereafter.”

            Dendro-green eyes glowed.

            Several seconds passed.

            Then, there was a flash of green light.

            Dendro coalesced, solidifying into a perfectly ordinary-looking Knowledge Capsule.

            The capsule floated in the air for a moment, then fell into the Archon’s waiting hand.

            “It’s done.”

            The Matra nodded as his Archon turned and handed him the Knowledge Capsule.  “This is the suspect’s consciousness, then?”

            “Yes.  Deal with this matter as we discussed previously.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            Alhaitham turned, eyes flicking briefly to Lumine and Paimon, and left.

            They followed.

            The air was already starting to buzz.

***

            He’d known that dealing with this matter would be… unpleasant.  He’d known he’d have to leave quickly, before the pain became too overwhelming, and planned accordingly.

            Unfortunately, no plan was foolproof.

            Ideally, he’d have just left in light form.  That would have gotten him to a… safer… distance, quickly and mostly unnoticed.  Unfortunately, his control was still hardly perfect, and navigating tight spaces – for instance, a crowded medical facility – at such high speed was still too difficult to be practical.  He had no choice but to leave the Bimarstan on foot.

            By the time he reached the front door, where there was enough space to navigate easily, he could no longer even maintain the flow of Dendro required to stay in light form – much less properly control his movements.

            (It hurt so much.)

            He was vaguely aware of Lumine and Paimon following behind him as he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other, making his way towards the path leading to the Akademiya – to the Sanctuary of Surasthana.  It was fortunate that he was familiar enough with Sumeru City’s streets to navigate more or less subconsciously; his vision was already beginning to cloud over, enough that it was becoming difficult to see more than a meter or two ahead of him.

            He needed to get as far from the Bimarstan as he could, as quickly as possible.  He just hoped most of the affected people had been gathered there; he knew some were likely in their (or their friends’ or families’) homes, whether by preference or simply due to the Bimarstan growing too full.  Hopefully the people who’d been in that shared dream weren’t too scattered around the city; that would make things… far more difficult.

            (His breath was so hot.  He almost wondered if he was actually on fire.)

            Voices seemed to trail behind him as he walked.

            “Is that Lord Idris?  What’s he doing here?”

            “Don’t look!  I hear he can see all your secrets by looking into your eyes…”

            “I miss Lesser Lord Kusanali…”

            He ignored them.  He didn’t care what people thought of him, anyway.

            (The Gnosis burned.)

            The burning had faded, just a little, by the time he made it up to the Akademiya.  It still hurt, more than anything he could remember, but it was at least getting easier to keep walking.  He briefly thought that maybe the last bit of the walk to the Sanctuary would be… not pleasant, exactly, but maybe something close to merely uncomfortable.

            That thought died the moment he stepped through the Akademiya’s front doors – and was promptly reminded that certain policies… were still unpopular.

            The whispers echoed, unnaturally loud, as he made his way through the halls, Dendro burning hotter still.

            (He wished he had his headphones.  He didn’t care what anyone said of him, but hearing their words behind his back was hardly pleasant.)

            Razan Garden was mercifully empty when he got there; he paused briefly under one of the gazebos, allowing himself a moment to try and catch his breath.  He knew he couldn’t stay long, though – his vision was getting foggier, and it was getting harder to remain standing with all the pain.  He had to get to the Sanctuary before his body gave out on him.

            One knee twitched dangerously as he started walking again.  He couldn’t keep going much longer.  He had… to keep moving…

            Fwooh.

            Someone tugged on his cloak.

            “Hey, be careful!  You’re going to fall!”

            He blinked, and looked down.  He could barely see more than an arm’s length ahead of him now, but he could just make out the edge of the walkway, amidst the indistinct blur of colors the world had become.

            (That would have been embarrassing.)

            He turned in the direction he thought the path was in, and tried to keep walking.  There was another tug on his cloak – stronger, this time.

            “Whoa, not that way, either!  Maybe you’d better follow Paimon; we’re pretty high up, and you seem really out of it…”

            He paused, then slowly nodded.

            She pulled on his cloak again.  He followed the floating, pink-and-white blur forward.

            (Footsteps behind him.  He didn’t have the energy to check who it was – not that he could likely see far enough, anyway – but he suspected he already knew.)

            The remaining walk to the Sanctuary seemed to stretch on for hours – though he knew it couldn’t be more than fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, even with the reduced walking speed his present state required.  It felt like he was breathing fire.  The pain did seem to be fading a little, again, but that didn’t mean a whole lot; it was still taking everything he had just to keep moving, to remain conscious through the intermittent pulses of Dendro.

            Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached the end of Razan Garden.  He could barely see anything at this point – the fog clouding his vision was starting to turn dark – but the feeling of sunlight on his face told him that they were no longer under the garden’s shade.

            They were almost to the top of the Divine Tree.  Almost to the Sanctuary.  He just had to keep walking… a little bit further…

            (Pain.)

            He heard the double doors opening, and saw his surroundings turn faintly green.  His vision cleared, just a little – just enough for him to make out the edges of the central walkway.

            He staggered forward.

            (Pain.)

            Everything burned.

            It hurt so much.

            (Pain.)

            He heard the doors close.

            (Pain.)

            His legs buckled.

            He felt the Dendro aura he’d been maintaining dissipate, and knew his hair and eyes and clothes were reverting to their true colors.

            He reached forward as he fell – and just barely managed to catch himself on the edge of the central pedestal, with one hand.

            He reached up, clumsily, with his other hand, and pulled down his hood.

            Alhaitham took a deep breath, then slowly pulled himself up, just enough for him to turn around and sit down on the central platform.

            Two blurs of white – one larger, one smaller, and floating – stopped in front of him.

            He could see just enough to recognize that the smaller one was talking.

            “Are you okay?”

            Alhaitham nodded, and tried to take another breath, only to choke as Dendro seemed to clog his throat.  He coughed, painfully; it felt like he’d tried to swallow molten steel.

            (He hoped he’d never have to do that again.)

            There was a dull thump, then the sound of someone digging through supplies.  The noise stopped after several seconds – and then something was being pressed into a shaking hand.

            His vision had cleared a bit more – enough that he could… mostly… see what the object was, if he squinted.  A glass bottle, already open, containing some kind of green liquid.

            Lumine’s voice came from in front of him.  “It’s a Dendrocide Potion.  I don’t know if it’ll help, but…”

            (… it was worth trying.  It wouldn’t hurt him any worse, at least.)

            Alhaitham had just enough presence of mind to realize that his cloak’s high collar was in the way, before attempting to drink.  He paused, de-summoned the cloak to the dedicated storage space hidden in the underside of his bed, then drained the bottle, forcing himself to ignore the taste.  Dendrocide Potions were far from the worst, but alchemical products in general were not pleasant to consume.  That was likely by design, to be fair; even products that were intended to be ingested often had undesirable effects if misused.

            For what it was worth, the potion did at least help with his… current problem.  The pain didn’t fully fade – the Gnosis was somehow still pouring Dendro, even all the way up here – but it was dulled enough that he didn’t feel like he was actually burning anymore.  Enough that he could probably still focus on his work, if the Gnosis took too long to fully cool down.  Elemental resistance potions’ effects generally lasted several hours; that would get him through the rest of the workday, at least.

            (The irony of needing to protect himself from his own element was not lost on him.)

            Alhaitham coughed again.  “Thank you,” he managed to say; his voice was rough from the false heat of excess Dendro, but he somehow doubted the others would care.

            “You’re welcome.”  Lumine took the empty bottle from him, replaced its cap, and put it back in her bag.  “Do you need to stay here, today?”

            Another cough.  “Just for… a little while.  I’ll – ”  He coughed, again.  “ – I’ll be alright in time for… for my next meeting.”

            (His throat still burned.  He’d have to avoid talking – which he usually did anyway, but at least today he’d have an excuse… though he’d have to figure out an explanation, first.)

            Paimon folded her arms and frowned; he could see clearly enough to distinguish facial expressions now, which was good.  “Are you sure?  Paimon knows you have lots of paperwork and stuff, but if the Gnosis is still hurting you this much…”

            “I’ll be fine.”  He winced as Dendro pulsed again – faintly, dampened by the effect of the potion he’d just consumed, but still hot.  “I just need enough strength… to get back to my office.  That shouldn’t take… too much longer…”

            “… okay.  Paimon still isn’t really sure, but if you say so…”

            “I’ll be fine,” he repeated.  “I’ll live.”

            (He didn’t get the impression that the gods of Celestia were so kind as to let one of their chosen die from something like this, from what little he knew of them.  The joke was on them, though – he wanted to live, and not merely out of spite.)

            Paimon still didn’t look particularly convinced, but she didn’t argue further.

            Meanwhile, Lumine had pulled something else out of her bag – a box, containing several identical-looking items wrapped in paper.  She held one of the smaller packages out to him; he realized, from the smell, that it was food.

            “You should eat something,” she said.  “I know you don’t need to anymore, but… still.”

            Alhaitham paused, then took the item from her.  “… thank you.”

            (Food did sound good, admittedly.  It occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten yet that day; he’d gotten up early to finish off some paperwork he’d had left over from the previous night, and the situation at the Bimarstan had come up right as he’d been about to take a break.)

            Lumine took out two more of the wrapped packages, handed one to Paimon, then closed the box and put it away.

            Alhaitham watched for a moment as the others started unwrapping their food, then slowly did the same.  He couldn’t remember, at the moment, if there were any rules against eating in the Sanctuary of Surasthana… but then again, he was the Archon, so it probably didn’t matter.  Lord Kusanali didn’t sound like the type to be particularly concerned with such things, either; anyone else who wanted to complain could go take a hike.

            (He glanced up at his still-dormant predecessor, for a moment.  His sight still hadn’t fully cleared, yet, but he thought there seemed to be less Dendro energy flowing out than before.)

            The food turned out to be Pita Pockets.  Paimon’s food vanished with impressive speed, considering it was nearly the size of her head, and the fairy proceeded to start chatting to Lumine about what they should eat for dinner.  From what Alhaitham had seen, he was starting to think Paimon’s stomach might actually be some kind of pocket dimension.

            Dendro flared again as he ate, but the pain was less sharp, now.  He wasn’t sure if that was because he was eating, or if the Gnosis was actually burning less, but he decided not to think about it too much.

            He’d have plenty to think about later, when he got back to work.  When he needed to be the Acting Grand Sage and Archon’s proxy again.

            For now, though, he didn’t need to be any of those things.

            For now, he could rest.

            Even if only for a short time.

Chapter Text

            It was a quiet morning when Cyno returned to Matra headquarters.

            Aarav was speaking with the junior Matra on front desk duty for that morning as Cyno stepped through the doors.  They both turned at the sound of footsteps, and immediately stood up straighter as they saw who had arrived.

            “General Mahamatra Cyno,” Aarav greeted him.  “We’re glad you’re back.  How was your time off?”

            Cyno nodded a greeting back to both of his fellow Matra.  “Very good, thank you.  And how have things been here, in my absence?”

            He’d been away much longer than he would have liked.  It had been necessary, of course – seemingly everyone he knew had been drilling that into his head for the past month, any time he so much as mentioned anything even remotely work-related.  And Cyno couldn’t blame them, really; considering the circumstances that had led to his sudden ordered vacation, he’d probably be doing much the same thing, had he been in their position.

            That didn’t change the fact that he’d been away from work for a month, while Sumeru’s government – including the Matra – was desperately short on hands.  There was work to catch up on, no doubt; he was certain to be very busy for the next couple of weeks.

            He would be careful not to overdo it again, of course.  Tighnari had made him swear that on pain of… pain.  Or at least more forced rest.

            In any case, Aarav nodded back at the question.  “Things have been… well, busy, of course.  We’re still working on getting staff numbers back up, and the newer members trained.  It’s been going slowly, since we’re so short-handed, but things are progressing smoothly, all things considered.”

            “Good.  I’ll take a look at the training plans in a bit.  Any cases of note?”

            “Well… not that many, actually.  Things have been surprisingly quiet these last few weeks; we’ve been busy, but it’s mostly just been routine work, outside of training.  There was one big case, though – ”

            Aarav was suddenly interrupted by another voice from the door.  “Suspect in transit, please stand aside.”

            Cyno turned, and stepped aside as requested, as two Matra – Nabil and Nayab – entered the building, escorting a man who looked like he’d seen much better days.  The man’s face was gaunt, as if he hadn’t eaten in a very long time, and Cyno noted the brightly-colored ring around the ankle, used to mark suspects being held at the Bimarstan.

            Cyno also noticed the looks his fellow Matra were giving the man.

            This was clearly no ordinary suspect.

            “Who was that?” Cyno asked, after the suspect and his escorts had passed.

            “Oh, that was Beynuni,” Aarav replied.  He turned back to Cyno.  “He’s the suspect in that one big case I just mentioned, coincidentally enough.  His trial is today.”

            “I see.  What was the case?”

            “Well, do you remember the Sabzeruz Samsara?”  Aarav waited for Cyno to nod before continuing.  “It was something similar to that; there was a mass dream in the Akasha that people were being lured into, so their Jnana Energy could be harvested.”

            Cyno blinked.  “Jnana Energy?  But the Archon disabled the Akasha’s dream-harvesting capabilities when…”

            “Yes, well, Beynuni had set up… a backdoor of sorts, I suppose you could call it.  He’d implanted signaling devices into a large number of people, connecting them to a network within the Akasha.  He claimed to be testing for mental illnesses.”

            Cyno’s eyes narrowed at that.  “I see.  That’s… rather disturbing.”

            Aarav nodded.  “I agree.  Fortunately, it seems he only went for adults… for however much that’s worth.”

            “It’s good that he drew a line somewhere, at least.  So what was the purpose of all this?”

            “Well, apparently his girlfriend died a while back.  Eleazar.  He couldn’t handle the grief, so he decided to… recreate her, using the Akasha’s modeling capabilities.  The original model wasn’t realistic enough for him, though, so he was using the signaling devices to gather thoughts and memories from others who’d lost friends or loved ones to make the model more lifelike.  Or that was the original plan, at least.  Things changed when the Akasha went down.”

            “… right, I can see how that might affect his operations.  I assume that’s when he started harvesting Jnana Energy?”

            “Correct.  He’d already created the dream in the Akasha, at this point, using himself as the host – he’d uploaded his consciousness, by the way, so that he couldn’t wake up.  That’s why he looks the way he does; he’d been comatose for nearly six months.  But then the Akasha went down, so he needed a new power source to keep things running.  He realized that the network his victims were connected to via the signaling implants still existed, so he started using the implants to make said victims dream of their deceased loved ones.  People obviously liked those induced dreams; eventually, the victims started liking them so much that they just… stopped waking up.  They couldn’t bear to face the real world anymore.”

            Cyno sighed.  That was… less surprising than he would like to admit.  “I see.  I imagine that was quite the mess to sort out.”

            “Actually, we got lucky.  Beynuni got greedy.”

            Cyno blinked.  “Greedy?  How so?”

            “Well, he was actually still in the… early testing phases, of this whole mass dream setup, when the Akasha reactivated.  That actually made the mass dream unnecessary; the Akasha was obviously much weaker, now that its dream-harvesting function had been disabled, but it still had more than enough power to spare, if all Beynuni wanted was to maintain his own endless dream.  But he’d apparently gotten far enough that he felt it’d be a waste to just throw out his new plans, and then he got the idea to use the Akasha’s power to make the mass dream even more vivid and realistic, so people would be more likely to come back, stay longer, and keep contributing their Jnana Energy to keep this… dream society… running.”

            “That… makes far too much sense.”  Cyno was starting to feel a little sick, hearing how far this whole mess had gotten.  “But this turned out to be a mistake?”

            “Fortunately, yes.  As you might imagine, people suddenly falling asleep and not waking up for no apparent reason drew a lot of attention – especially since Beynuni wasn’t just sending dreams out while his victims were already sleeping.  People were dropping in broad daylight, or out in the wilderness… and of course, all these people were getting sent to the Bimarstan, so the Bimarstan was getting swamped with endlessly sleeping patients.  After about a week, things got bad enough that Lord Idris caught wind of it, and went to investigate in person.”

            Cyno blinked again.

            Well, that can’t have been a pleasant surprise.

            “So anyway, because the dream was using the Akasha’s power, it was directly connected to the Akasha – whereas if Beynuni had just used his victims’ Jnana Energy, it would have been separate.  So when Lord Idris looked in the Akasha and saw what was going on, he just… cut off the dream’s power, at which point the whole thing collapsed.  All the victims were released, and Beynuni was forced back out into the Akasha – at which point Lord Idris caught him and put his consciousness into a Knowledge Capsule, which we downloaded back into his body.  Problem solved.  Everything after that was pretty straightforward, honestly; Beynuni isn’t that great of a liar, so it wasn’t too hard to get everything he knew out of him.  He also didn’t bother to hide any of his equipment, since it was originally just going to be him in the dream, he hadn’t planned to leave, and the whole thing would probably have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t dragged anyone else into it.  Everything else was easy enough to figure out from there.  All that’s left now is the trial, sentencing, then figuring out what to do with all the evidence.”

            “I see.  That’s good to hear.”  Cyno wasn’t just saying that to be polite; from what Aarav had just explained, it sounded like this case could have gotten a lot messier than it did.  It was fortunate that the culprit had made the classic error of biting off more than he could chew… and that their Archon had been able to put things down quickly.  “It sounds like the trial should be pretty straightforward, then.”

            “Yes, thankfully.  That part, at least, should be easily taken care of… it’s going to be a real headache to deal with all the equipment Beynuni left behind, though.  Especially figuring out what to do about those signaling devices…”

            “Are you two talking about the mass dream case?” a female voice asked, behind them.  Cyno turned to see Shohre, one of the Matra regularly assigned to watch the House of Daena, coming through the front doors.

            “Oh, good morning, Shohre.  Yes, I was just filling the General Mahamatra in on what’s been going on these past few weeks.”

            “I see.  Oh, and welcome back, General Mahamatra Cyno.”  She paused and nodded to him before continuing.  “So that case should be wrapping up soon, right?  Beynuni’s trial is…”

            “Today,” Aarav confirmed with a nod.  “He was just brought in from the Bimarstan; that should be taken care of pretty quickly, with all the evidence and information we have.  Dealing with the evidence afterward will take longer, but…”

            Shohre nodded again.  “It’ll be good to have the actual case closed, at least.”  She paused, and frowned.  “I hope Beynuni doesn’t get let off lightly for this; tricking his victims into getting those implants was bad enough, but then the forced dream… people died from that.  And for him to have gone through with it even after the Samsara…”

            “I believe he was actually unaware of the Samsara,” Aarav noted, “since he was already living in his original dream when that happened.  But that doesn’t really make it much better, given everything else he did.”

            “True… well anyway, it’s good that things are finally getting wrapped up.  I… I think the Acting Grand Sage has been pretty stressed because of this case, too.  It’s probably given him a lot of extra work…”

            Cyno glanced at her for a moment.  “The Acting Grand Sage?”

            Did something happen?  He did have to deal with the problem personally…

            Shohre nodded.  “Yes, he’s seemed… very tired, since the mass dream was discovered.  Especially the first week or so; there were a few days where it almost seemed like he was going to pass out.  Of course, I only really see the Acting Grand Sage when he’s coming in and out of his office, but…”

            Cyno paused, then nodded, slowly.  “I… see.”

            He was… not sure, but something told him there was something more to this than just extra paperwork.  Gods didn’t need sleep, after all, and he wasn’t sure that mental exhaustion alone could make someone as tired as Shohre was describing.

            … there was, though, that strange problem that had started shortly after Coronation Day.  The one that caused Alhaitham intense pain, and seemed to flare up in response to Cyno’s anger, for some reason.  Now that Cyno wasn’t lost in the mental fog induced by overuse of his divine spirit, that trend seemed… very obvious.  Or was it just hindsight?

            Aarav had said that Beynuni’s victims had grown very attached to their induced dreams – so much so, that they had stopped waking up.  It stood to reason that some of those people might have been… unhappy, to be forcibly returned to the real world.  And Cyno couldn’t imagine that the Archon’s involvement in such a matter would have remained a secret for long…

            I’ll need to speak with him later, anyway… especially with how things were before I left.  I should see if he’s willing to explain what that problem actually was.

            “Well, anyway,” Shohre said, pulling Cyno from his thoughts, “I’m just here to drop off my things before heading to my usual post.  I’ll let you two get back to your conversation; let me know how things – ”

            She was suddenly interrupted by a loud BANG, as a nearby door swung open.  They all jumped, and turned to see what had happened.

            Nabil appeared in the doorway, eyes wide with panic.

            “General Mahamatra Cyno,” he said, breathing heavily.  “I’m glad you’re still here.  The… the suspect…”

            Cyno felt his blood run cold, as the other Matra swallowed, then finished his sentence.

            “The suspect has escaped!”

***

             Nabil explained what had happened as he, Cyno, Aarav, and Shohre raced through the halls of Matra headquarters, towards where Beynuni had last been seen.

            Apparently, as Nabil and Nayab had been leading Beynuni into a holding room, to await the start of his trial, someone had come up behind them, and knocked Nayab out with a blow to the head.  Beynuni had then managed to slip out of his wrist restraints – despite the Bimarstan’s best efforts to get him back into something resembling a healthy condition, he’d been unusually slow to regain weight – and fled with the unknown attacker.  Nabil had left Nayab with another Matra who’d been passing by, then attempted to give chase, only for the two suspects to escape behind a locked door – which strangely did not open for Nabil’s Matra ID badge, though he was sure he had sufficient clearance to open said door.

            There was clearly some form of sabotage involved; that much became evident, when their group reached the door… and it failed to open for Cyno’s badge.

            Cyno bit back a curse as he pushed on the door, only for it to stubbornly refuse to budge.

            This was not how he’d expected his first day back on duty to go.

            Hermanubis responded readily when Cyno called upon its power, this time – the first time he’d attempted to do so, since the Archon had brought his near-empty body back from the desert more than a month ago.  The door opened to a single swing of a massive, clawed hand.

            The halls were strangely empty as they continued forward.  Cyno had alerted all the other Matra currently on duty to the situation through the Akasha, so reinforcements should have been coming, but it seemed as though there had been no one in this general area, somehow.

            Together with the obvious sabotage of that locked door, that was suggesting… some very unpleasant things, about the identity of Beynuni’s still-unknown accomplice.

            Fortunately, some other Matra did finally catch up to them, just as their group reached an intersection in the halls.  They split up to cover all the paths forward – Cyno, Aarav, and Shohre going down one hall, while Nabil and the other Matra who’d joined them took the other two.

            It was as they were about to pass the evidence room that Shohre suddenly stopped.  She looked at the closed door, and gave it a shove.  It didn’t open.

            “I think I heard someone inside,” she said, as Cyno and Aarav turned back to see what was going on.  “And I’m pretty sure I have clearance…”

            Cyno only hesitated for a second – and only for the possibility of accidentally damaging some evidence by breaking down the door.  They couldn’t waste too much more time, though; it had been too long since Beynuni had last been seen as it was.

            Claws scythed.  The door flew open.

            They burst in just in time to see Beynuni slump lifelessly to the ground.  He was wearing some kind of device on his head.  A man wearing a Matra badge jumped and turned to them with wide eyes; his hand fell on… some kind of control panel.  Cyno thought it vaguely resembled the console used to enter information into the Akasha on Jnagarbha Day.

            There was a garbled series of beeping noises, as a variety of unknown buttons were evidently pressed.

            A screen, above the control panel, flickered.

            A single word appeared, in large, flashing text.

            ERROR.

            Aarav swore, and tackled the obvious traitor to the floor.  “That thing’s Beynuni’s!” he shouted as he pinned the other man down.  “It’s what he used to upload himself to the Akasha – we took it apart when we brought it in, but this guy must have secretly reassembled it!”

            Cyno cursed as well, and ran up to the console as Shohre went to check on Beynuni.  The controls were utterly indecipherable; nothing seemed to be labeled.  There was no knowing what any of the buttons would do, or what the machine was already doing.

            Things had clearly gone very, very wrong.

***

            No plan was ever foolproof.

            Beynuni’s plan, assembled in collaboration with some of his more stubborn “guests” – including a Matra whose old mentor had been killed and replaced by the Fatui – had been very simple.  Regain access to his equipment, reupload his consciousness to the Akasha, and restart the shared dream.

            They would all be captured, of course, in the real world; there would be no escaping, once their minds had entered the dream.  But that meant little to a group of people who had no plans to return to reality, anyway.

            Setbacks had appeared quickly, naturally.  Finding Beynuni’s equipment in the Matra’s evidence room had been easy enough, but the console he’d built and used to upload himself had been disassembled when it was initially confiscated, in order to get it out of Beynuni’s house.  It had thus been necessary to reassemble the machine, before it could be used again.

            Scholars working on personal projects all too often neglected to properly record the steps they took to obtain their final result; it was generally assumed that no one else would need this information, and these personal projects were also commonly of the sort one would rather avoid leaving a paper trail for.  This often made things difficult, on the occasion that someone else did need the original procedures for whatever reason – for instance, to reassemble a machine that had been unexpectedly taken apart.

            There was also the matter of actually executing the plan.  Given the nature of what was being done, there had been no opportunity to practice; furthermore, it had been some time since Beynuni had last performed the actions necessary to transfer his consciousness to the Akasha, and he had only ever done so once.  He now had to repeat those precise actions, on a very strict, uncertain time limit – it went without saying that, if he got captured before he could finish, the entire plan would be for nothing.  Needless to say, when finally it came time for him to do so, he was working under quite a bit of pressure.

            Perhaps unsurprisingly, errors were made.

            And that was all before the string of unknown, unexpected commands that was suddenly entered into the console.

            Within the Akasha, the artificial dream had just started to form.  It was already starting to seek out those Beynuni had given access to his personal network, preparing to draw them in with promises of happiness seemingly unachievable in the real world.

            The dream choked and sputtered, as it was suddenly fed a sequence of incomprehensible orders.  As previously-unnoticed imperfections in its structure now grew, and spread, until the construct built of false happiness and buried pain could no longer bear its own weight.

            The dream collapsed, as all lies inevitably do.

            And yet, it did not die.

            The dream heaved, in a final, desperate, and ultimately futile attempt to continue carrying out its creator’s orders.  Corrupted data spilled from within its depths, pouring into the Akasha – a dying parasite’s final curse upon its unwilling host.

            At the same time, the dream – now slowly, inexorably, twisting into a nightmare of truly monstrous proportions – continued to seek out those guests who would have sustained it, had its life not been abruptly cut short.  But the beast had been robbed of its senses, and could no longer tell that which it should consume from that which it should not – and so it ate indiscriminately, with no regard for any attempts to control its ever-growing appetite.

            The nightmare’s poison spread.  Monsters rose, and multiplied, from the meaningless nonsense, flooding the forest of knowledge and wisdom with their corruption as the great beast dragged in unsuspecting souls to be their prey.

            Somewhere, the forest’s heart burned, as the beast fed upon its power, bringing forth an endless tide of monstrous progeny.

            But as they say, one should not cry wolf.

            For of what note is fire, to one who lives in a furnace?

***

            Alhaitham had just started sorting through his work for the day, when the Gnosis pulsed.

            He paused, then sighed.

            (Not again.)

            He double-checked that he had a Dendrocide Potion in his belt pouch – he hadn’t been in enough pain to need one in a couple of weeks, at this point, but it was better to be prepared than not – then turned back to the new stack of paperwork that had found its way onto his desk in the hours since he’d left his office the previous night.

            (At least it didn’t hurt much, yet.)

***

            Cyno realized just how badly things were going, when his vision began to blur, and a familiar voice echoed in his ears.

            “Hello, Cyno.  It’s been some time since I’ve seen you last.”

            He swore, as the familiar face flickered before his eyes.

            Beynuni’s dream lured people in with their dead friends and loved ones.

            He ground his teeth together, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it of the obvious hallucination.  The world only seemed to blur faster.

            “I trust you are doing well?”

            He vaguely registered the traitor going limp, and Aarav holding his head, as if in pain.  There was a soft thump; he turned to see Shohre unconscious on the floor.

            There was another voice – also familiar, and clearer, now.

            “I’m disappointed.”

            Suddenly, just seeing illusions of his dead friends didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

            “I had thought you’d be better than to condemn someone on mere assumptions.”

            Cyno forced himself to ignore the voices in his head, to focus on what was actually in front of him.  He looked down at the console’s controls, desperately searching for something that would put a stop to this.

            Nothing was labeled.  He had no idea what to do.

            Everything blurred.

            No.  I have to stay awake.

            Familiar eyes stared at him.

            I have to…

            Something purple flashed in the lower edge of his vision.  He looked down, at his hands – except they weren’t his hands.

            He stared down at the massive, Electro-laced claws.

            But they weren’t his claws, either.

            No.  This is wrong.

            He looked up again.  There was suddenly a mirror in front of him.

            He stared into empty red eyes, a gaping maw full of jagged, black teeth.  A black-and-purple mane, beneath the familiar headdress – but the headpiece was chipped, and cracked, and covered in enormous claw marks.  As if its wearer had been trying to take it off, but couldn’t.

            This isn’t real.

            The black claws that weren’t his came into view again.  He pressed them to his face, except it wasn’t his face.

            He tried to scream.  The only sound that came out was a monstrous howl.

            I need to wake up.

            The voices echoed again.

            “What are you implying, General Mahamatra?”

            There was blood on his claws, now.  On his fangs.

            “The way I see it, every person will end up like me, sooner or later.”

            He clawed at his face, at the mirror.

            Nothing happened.

            Wake up.

            Blood.  Blood everywhere.

            Wake up!

            On the floor.  In his mane.

            On a broken spear.

            On shattered green glass.

            On –

            (NO.)

            Cyno started, as Electro seemed to surge through his mind.  He felt a hand move on its own, clutching at the side of his head.  No, his ear?  Wait –

            The dream was created using the Akasha.

            The realization hit him like a thunderbolt.  He grabbed his Akasha Terminal, and yanked it out of his ear.

            His mind instantly cleared.  The device slipped from his hand, deactivating automatically, and clattered to the ground.

            Cyno took a deep breath to steady himself, then glanced around, thinking quickly.  He dropped to the floor, and tore out Aarav and Shohre’s Terminals as well.

            He left the traitor’s Terminal in.  No sense creating unnecessary trouble, right now.

            Aarav blinked and shook his head, instantly awake.

            Shohre didn’t respond.

            Cyno suppressed the urge to swear again as he glanced back over at Shohre’s unmoving form.  He had to focus on the problem at hand; everyone currently connected to the Akasha was now possibly in danger.  “Aarav.  Stay here, with Shohre and the suspects; leave the traitor’s Akasha Terminal in, for now.  I will send someone to help you keep watch.”

            Aarav only hesitated for an instant before nodding in acknowledgement of the order.

            Cyno left the evidence room, pausing only to retrieve his Akasha Terminal – just in case – and ran back the way their group had originally come.  His mind raced, searching frantically through memories for something, anything, he could do to control the situation.  There had to be something he could –

            Wait.  It’s the Akasha.  The Archon controls the Akasha.

            The appropriate course of action was suddenly incredibly clear.

            Right at that moment, Nabil staggered out from around a corner, clutching at his head.  His Akasha Terminal was still in; Cyno quickly ran over and pulled it out.

            He waited just long enough for Nabil’s eyes to focus on him.  “Nabil, go to the evidence room.  Beynuni and his accomplice are there, with Aarav and Shohre – all unconscious, except Aarav.  Go back him up; he’ll explain what happened.”

            Nabil blinked, then nodded.  “Yes, sir!”

            He then promptly took off in the direction of the evidence room.

            Cyno took another deep breath, then continued forward, towards Matra headquarters’ front entrance – towards the rest of the Akademiya.

            He hoped Alhaitham wasn’t having that strange problem again, right now.

***

            “Ugh, that’s really messed up.  Some people just don’t know when to give up, huh?”

            Dunyarzad nodded.  “It’s… pretty hard to believe, that something like this happened again so soon, after the Sabzeruz Festival.  And while Lord Idris was able to deal with the shared dream itself, a lot of related problems were left behind.  Apparently a lot of the people who were in the dream were actually not very happy to be woken up; I hear some of them are still resisting the idea of having to live in the real world again…”

            “Seriously?”  Dehya rolled her eyes.  “I bet that’s been fun for everyone else to deal with.  Some people…”  She paused.  “Oh, uh, by the way… Nilou, have you… seen Alhaitham, lately?  You said he’s the Acting Grand Sage now?”

            Nilou nodded.  “Yeah.  And no, not in a while.  I hear he’s been really busy, lately.”  She paused, and frowned.  “The last time I saw him was a few weeks ago, but we didn’t actually talk or anything; I just saw him passing through the Grand Bazaar for something.  And… I don’t think he was feeling very well, that day.”

            Dehya blinked.  She managed to stop herself from voicing the thoughts that immediately went through her head.  “Really?”

            Gods don’t need to sleep; just how busy has he been?  Or… maybe he was sick?  Can gods even get sick?

            Nilou fidgeted a little.  “Well… I’m not sure.  But he looked really, really tired.  Um… it was right after that shared dream incident, so maybe that had something to do with it…”

            Dehya frowned, glancing briefly at Dunyarzad.  She could tell there was something Nilou wasn’t saying.

            Right.  The Archon had to fix that whole mess; that’s probably what tired him out.  And he probably hasn’t been getting any breaks, either, considering he’s the Archon and the Acting Grand Sage now.  Plus Cyno has been out for that thing with his soul; even if they still weren’t getting along, the General Mahamatra being away can’t have been helpful…

            Nilou’s voice pulled Dehya from her thoughts.  “Um, but actually, Zubayr Theater’s having a show tonight; Lumine and Paimon said they were going to come, and I know they see him a lot, since they, um, do commissions for the Akademiya, and stuff.  So I was thinking I’d ask them how he’s been – ”

            Dehya blinked, as Nilou suddenly stopped talking.  “Nilou?  Is everything – ”

            Nilou was staring, wide-eyed, into the distance, her eyes strangely unfocused.  She slowly raised a hand to her head and blinked, swaying slightly on her feet.

            Dunyarzad abruptly shuddered and made a strange sound, then slumped forward, eyes rolling backwards into her head.

            “Dunyarzad?!”  Dehya just barely managed to grab the other woman before she toppled over.  “Dunyarzad, what happened?!  And Nilou, are you – ”

            “Dehya?”

            Dehya blinked again, at the sudden familiar voice in her head.  “Huh?”

            “Hey there, Dehya!  How’s my little girl today?”

            She turned, towards where the voice seemed to be coming from… and blinked, again, at the familiar, smiling face.

            … Dad?

            She vaguely heard Nilou saying something, but her voice was strangely distant, all of a sudden – as if she was on the other side of the room, and not less than a meter away.  Dunyarzad suddenly felt weirdly light in Dehya’s arms.

            Her father grinned, exactly the same way she remembered him doing when she was a little girl.  He reached out with one hand; she felt him ruffling her hair.

            “So, what’s going on?”

            Dehya stared.  Her arms… were suddenly empty.  She was… in the desert, somewhere.  There was something off in the distance; an Eremite camp?  Her father… her father was…

            “… Dad.  I – ”

            “… what are you talking about?”

            Huh?

            “… you finally found out about that, did you?”

            She blinked, again.  What was he talking about, all of a sudden?  And why did his words seem… so familiar…

            “I guess there’s no point trying to hide it anymore, huh?”

            She suddenly got a very bad feeling, as she finally recognized the memory.

            Wait, why are we having – this conversation again –

            Everything seemed to happen at once.

            The world seemed to twist and blur all around her.  People were suddenly shouting.  Her father.  Herself.  Others, in the distance; some of their voices were familiar.

            Her body suddenly moved on its own.

            The next thing she knew, there was fire everywhere.  She was on the ground, holding something down, punching it repeatedly.  The voices were screaming, now.

            What’s going on?  What am I doing?  Why can’t I stop?

            She finally managed to make herself stop.

            She forced herself to stand – and stared, in horror, at the familiar faces all around her.

            On the ground.  Burning.

            This never happened.  When did this happen?

            Some instinct caused her to look at her hand – but it wasn’t her hand, anymore.

            Her horror grew, as she stared down at what appeared to be massive stone gauntlets, and enormous hands that clearly did not belong to any human.

            She grabbed at her face.  There was something in the way – a mask, of some sort?  She tried to pull it off, but couldn’t.

            She grabbed at the rest of her head, feeling for some kind of strap, holding the mask on.  She didn’t find one, but there were two massive, hard protrusions sticking out of her forehead, one on each side.  Her hair suddenly felt like it was made of rocks.

            What – what happened – how did this –

            Dull, lifeless eyes looked up at her.

            “I’m sorry, Dehya.”

            Her stomach lurched.  She tried to scream.  Her voice was strangely distorted, even accounting for the strange mask muffling the sound.

            This isn’t happening.  This can’t be happening. This is –

            She stopped, and blinked.

            This is impossible.  Dad died a long time ago.

            A memory from just a few minutes before crashed through her mind like a tidal wave.

            There was another mass dream spread by the Akasha.  People were drawn in with their dead friends and family.

            It was like being doused in ice water.

            This is fake.  I need to –

            Her surroundings blurred, turning back into the inside of the Grand Bazaar.

            Dehya reached up with one hand – her real hand.  Her fingers closed on a piece of metal, inside her left ear.

            She ripped it out.

            The desert, and the flames, and her father… vanished.

            She was in the Grand Bazaar again, still supporting Dunyarzad with her other arm.

            Dehya looked up – just in time to see Nilou’s eyes starting to close.

***

            It was the Sabzeruz Festival.

            She was on Zubayr Theater’s stage, dancing.

            It was… wonderful.

            She closed her eyes as she twirled across the stage.

            This was everything she’d hoped it would –

            There was a loud crash.

            Her eyes flew open.

            All around her, people screamed.

            Some fell to the ground, shaking and clutching their heads.

            They screamed again, as they suddenly dissolved into darkness.

            The darkness spilled across the floor.

            Monsters rose.

            She stared in horror.

            What’s happening?

            The monsters roared, and howled, as they chased after the people who remained.

            She stood frozen on the stage.

            Why is this happening?

            There was someone coming up the steps, suddenly.

            A person?

            No, not a person.

            A monster, in black robes and armor.

            The monster kicked aside a display of purple Padisarahs as it walked up to her.

            She stared, unable to move.

            I’m going to die.

            The monster’s arms glowed with Hydro.

            The energy formed into blades.

            This is the end.

            The monster drew back one arm.      

            This is –

            She suddenly paused, and blinked.

            The monster froze, its blade only centimeters from her face.

            She looked at the Padisarahs it had knocked over again.

            The purple Padisarahs.

            Purple Padisarahs don’t exist anymore.

            That thought was… strangely familiar…

            She blinked again.

            This is a dream.

            Nilou stumbled as she woke.

            The world seemed… blurry.  As if she wasn’t quite awake just yet.

            What just happened?

            A voice broke into her thoughts.

            “Nilou!  Take off your Akasha Terminal!”

            She blinked, again – this time for real.

            The Akasha was making people dream.

            She reached up with both hands, as the world seemed to blur again, and grabbed at the sides of her head.

            One hand touched something metal.  She grabbed the object and pulled it out of her ear.

            The world stopped blurring.

            She was standing in the middle of the Grand Bazaar, with Dehya, who was holding two Akasha Terminals in one hand, and Dunyarzad, who appeared to have just woken up as well.

            The Bazaar was suddenly very quiet.

            Nilou looked around.

            Sheikh Zubayr was standing near Zubayr Theater’s stage, eyes closed, head drooping.  He appeared to have been talking to Inayah, who was now collapsed on the ground.

            Hushang had slumped over on the counter of his toy stand, head resting on his arms.  Farhad was leaning against a nearby wall.

            Jut and Afshin were also collapsed at their respective stalls.  Fortunately, Jut’s oven and stove didn’t appear to be lit.

            All throughout the rest of the Grand Bazaar… everyone else was also silent.

            Asleep.

            Nilou was suddenly very, very scared… but not because of her dream.

            Dreams weren’t real.

            This was.

***

            Lumine blinked as she and Paimon appeared next to the Teleport Waypoint outside Lambad’s Tavern.

            Her left hand, holding her Akasha Terminal, stopped halfway to her ear, as her eyes fell on the various people scattered about the city’s streets.

            Slumped over on benches and chairs, or against walls.

            Collapsed on outdoor tables, on the counters of market stalls, or simply on the ground.

            Unmoving.

            Unconscious.

            She caught Paimon’s arm with her free hand – somehow already knowing, deep in the pit of her stomach, what was going on.

            “Don’t put on your Akasha Terminal.  Something’s wrong.”

***

            The Akademiya was ominously silent as Cyno raced through its halls, years of experience automatically directing him down the path to the closest stairway to the Grand Sage’s office.  He slammed his way through the hidden wall panel, letting out a sigh of relief as it turned; his Matra ID was evidently still working here, at least.

            It wouldn’t have been the end of the world, if his badge hadn’t worked; he could easily break down a wall or two, or even scale the elevator shaft in the House of Daena, if necessary.  That would take extra time, though, and it had already been far too long.

            He took the steps two at a time, pouring Electro into his legs to gain speed.  He really wished he could have just sent a message through the Akasha, but it was far too dangerous to even be connected, at the moment – there was no guarantee he’d even remain conscious long enough, once he’d put his Akasha Terminal in.

            The stairs seemed to go on forever.

            The only sounds were his own breaths and footsteps.

            The silence was deafening.

            I’m almost there.  Just a little bit further.

            Finally, finally, he reached the end.

            He slammed his full weight into the false wall at the top, nearly falling flat on his face as it swung away to reveal the Grand Sage’s office.

            Green-and-red eyes looked up at him and blinked, surprised.

            “General Mahamatra?”

            Thank Celestia.  He’s not having that problem right now.

            “Alhaitham,” Cyno said, gasping for breath, not caring that he should probably be using one of the other man’s titles right now.  “There’s… there’s a problem in the Akasha.  Beynuni got away from his escorts – there was a traitor in the Matra, helping him.  He… he managed to reupload himself, something went wrong, everyone wearing an Akasha Terminal is…”

            Alhaitham went very still.

            He stood.

            “I see.”  A pause.  “I’m going to the Sanctuary of Surasthana.  Meet me there.”

            There was a flash of green light – and then, Cyno was alone.

***

            Alhaitham bit back a curse as he flew out the nearest window, into Chinvat Ravine, and through the hole the Shouki no Kami had blasted in the ground during its final stand against Lord Kusanali and her First Sage.  He followed the now-familiar path through the metal-lined halls of the ex-Sages’ abandoned workshop, to the cordoned-off – but still not fully closed – doorway to the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

            (That path was surprisingly useful to him – or perhaps not-so-surprisingly, given that the Sanctuary had no windows.)

            He cut off the flow of Dendro, feet only sliding a little as he landed in front of the central pedestal.  It only took a few seconds to de-summon his cape, headphones, sash, and belt, replace them with the Archon’s white cloak, and apply the color-changing aura.

            He called up the Akasha, and looked inside.

            What he saw… was not pleasant.

            The inside of the Akasha was… a disaster, to put it lightly.  There was corrupted data everywhere, and more still being generated, from some yet-unknown source.  The bad data was also somehow turning into monsters; he wasn’t sure how that worked, exactly, but those details weren’t as important as the facts of what was happening, right now.

            He swore, as he traced the stream of corrupted and corrupting data to its origin – a huge, black cloud sprouting from the Akasha’s “floor”, with a massive, swirling hole in the center, and an absolutely ridiculous number of connections flowing into it.  He cursed again as flowing trails of yellow-green energy flickered on the cloud’s surface – disturbingly numerous, and far too thick and bright.

            (Of course the Gnosis had actually been trying to alert him to something important, after close to a month of burning him nearly non-stop for doing his job.  He wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that he’d started only putting his Akasha Terminal in after sorting his physical paperwork for the day, so as to avoid being distracted by all the messages that inevitably flooded his Akasha inbox each morning; he probably would have noticed this mess sooner, had his Terminal been in, but he also wasn’t sure that he himself wouldn’t have been dragged into… whatever this was.)

            On the bright side, he already knew how to take this thing apart… and it hadn’t been up for nearly as long as that idiot Beynuni’s first “project”.

            Hopefully, that meant this one would be less painful to deal with.

            … just in case, he re-summoned his belt for a moment – just long enough to retrieve his Dendrocide Potion, and transfer the bottle to one of the concealed pockets inside his cloak.

            He took a deep breath, and got to work.

            (First, damage control.)

            [Disable all data output? (Yes/No)]

            [Yes]

            [Disconnect all non-administrators? (Yes/No)]

            [Yes]

            [Deny all connection requests? (Yes/No)]

            [Yes]

            The malfunctioning dream shuddered, as most of the connections flowing into its body were promptly severed.  Jnana Energy sputtered and flashed; the trails of light rippling across the cloud’s surface quickly thinned.

            (That should have released everyone connected by an Akasha Terminal, and stopped the dream from pulling more people in.  Now to deal with everyone else.)

            He reached into the Akasha, channeling Dendro into a bubble surrounding the ominous, black cloud, and the section of the “floor” it was rooted in.  With another pulse of Dendro, the bubble solidified, cutting off the flow of the Gnosis’s power into the dream.

            The cloud shuddered again, then heaved.  The remaining connections – people connected by Beynuni’s implanted signaling devices, presumably – flickered, then broke.

            After another moment, the already-dying dream heaved, again… then deflated, spewing out one last burst of corrupted data before collapsing entirely.

            He waited, as the dream dissolved.

            Finally, just as the last traces of the black cloud were fading away, a tiny, green orb of clean data drifted from its remnants.

            He shrank the Dendro bubble around the orb, trapping it, and pulled it out of the Akasha.

            A Knowledge Capsule materialized in front of him, and fell into his hand.

            He gave it a flat look, letting out an annoyed huff.

            “Hello again, Beynuni.  You won’t be needing this lesson a third time, I hope?”

***

            Nilou breathed a sigh of relief, as the people passed out around the Grand Bazaar slowly began to stir.

            “Thank the Archons,” Dunyarzad said, beside her.  “That was… terrifying.”

            “No kidding,” Dehya agreed.  “I wonder what exactly happened just now…”

            “I’m not sure.  Though it probably had something to do with that – ”

            She was suddenly cut off by a shout from nearby.

            “Inayah?  Inayah, wake up!”

            Nilou blinked, as did the others.  They all turned in the direction of the voice, to see Sheikh Zubayr kneeling beside Inayah, shaking her gently by the shoulders.  When she didn’t stir, he shook a little harder.

            No response.

            Another voice came from one side.  “Hushang isn’t waking up, either!”  Nilou turned to see Farhad attempting to sit Hushang up in his chair.  The toy seller flopped limply back onto his stall’s counter as soon as Farhad let go of him.

            Dehya swore, quietly.  “I don’t think this is over yet, ladies.”

            Nilou swallowed, and nodded.

            Something told her their problems had only just begun.

***

            This was not how he’d expected this morning to go.

            Though to be fair, this was not how he’d expect any morning to go.

            (The Gnosis hadn’t started burning again yet, at least.  Hopefully that meant things had gone… reasonably alright.)

            Setting the Knowledge Capsule containing Beynuni’s consciousness aside, he looked back into the Akasha.  It was… less of a mess, now that the obvious problem had been removed.  There was still the matter of all the monsters the corrupted data had somehow spawned, though; those would obviously all have to be eliminated before he could reenable data output and allow anyone to reconnect.

            He sighed.  Cleaning this up was going to be… a huge bother, to say the least.  Scouring the Akasha for every last trace of bad data was going to take the rest of the day, if not longer; he was going to have so much paperwork to catch up on tomorrow, unless he wanted to take a page out of a certain someone’s book and pull an all-nighter.  Which… wasn’t such a bad idea, really.  It wasn’t as if he hadn’t essentially done it before, given the Gnosis’s habit of waking him up at ridiculous hours of the night.  Not needing to sleep was… convenient, if nothing else.

            Of course, that didn’t mean he had to like it.

            Sighing again, he reached back into the Akasha… and paused.

            He frowned, as he suddenly noticed a… rather large… number of orbs of clean data drifting among the monsters.

            (What were those?  Where had they come from?)

            He tried to find an orb he could isolate and pull out of the Akasha, to see what it was.  Unfortunately, everything was too clustered together; his control from outside the Akasha wasn’t precise enough to get any of the orbs by themselves, and it was never a good idea to simply fill a Knowledge Capsule with random data, without knowing what that data was.  To say nothing of the mess that might result from putting one of those monsters in a Knowledge Capsule…

            (Wait.  The monsters…)

            He paused again.

            Were the monsters… chasing the clean data?

            He watched for a few more seconds… then swore.

            They were.

            The packets of loose data… were people’s consciousnesses.

            (What had Beynuni done?)

            He thought quickly.  He couldn’t reasonably clean this up from outside, now; not when good and bad data were all so closely packed together, and actual people were at risk, if he made even the slightest mistake.

            (How many people were even in there?  There were too many to count.  Especially with them all running around, obviously fleeing from the monsters…)

            Well, if cleaning up manually from outside wasn’t feasible, then what else could he do?  He could reenable data output, and send out an order for anyone who still hadn’t woken up to be reconnected; that would allow those people to return to their bodies on their own.  That would be rather dangerous, though; there was no knowing what bad data might also get through someone’s Akasha Terminal, even if he put restrictions on what data the Akasha was allowed to output.  Corrupted data wasn’t exactly known for following rules, after all.

            He could just leave things as they were, and wait it out.  The Akasha did actually have an automated data-cleaning function; it would take a while, given the ridiculous amount of bad data that had been generated, but the Akasha would eventually manage to clear out all the monsters on its own.  He didn’t know exactly how long that would take, though, or what would happen to everyone who was trapped in the meantime… or if Sumeru even had the resources to keep their bodies alive long enough, in the real world.

            So if those options wouldn’t work, then that left…

            He cursed, again.

            (All this, because one man just didn’t know when to quit.)

            He focused, weaving Dendro into another Knowledge Capsule – this one made not from anything contained within the Akasha, but from the contents of his own mind.

            When the capsule was complete, he set it down on the Sanctuary’s central platform, next to the one serving as Beynuni’s temporary prison.

            (He really hoped that man wouldn’t need to be taught this lesson again.)

            He took a deep breath, and summoned his swords to his hands.

            Dendro flickered, as he vanished into the Akasha.

***

            …

            …?

            … who’s there…?

            …

***

            The Sanctuary of Surasthana was strangely empty, when Cyno arrived.

            He paused, wondering if something had gone wrong, before slowly making his way down the central walkway.

            There were two Knowledge Capsules on the central pedestal.  One in the standard shade of Dendro green, the other darker.

            Cyno paused again, then carefully picked up the darker green capsule.

            There was… some text, etched into one side of the base.

            To General Mahamatra Cyno.

            He paused, again, then slowly put his Akasha Terminal back on.

            [Error.  Connection to the Akasha System denied.]

            He… wasn’t sure if that was good, or bad.

            It doesn’t matter.  Knowledge Capsules don’t need the Akasha to be used.

            Cyno took a deep breath, then raised the dark green capsule to his Akasha Terminal.

            [Source detected.  Download? (Yes/No)]

            [Yes]

***

            Hello.  I am… Lord Idris.  The Second Dendro Archon.

            You may know me as someone else… but that’s not important, right now.

            The purpose of this Knowledge Capsule is to serve as a record of what has happened, today, and of my orders for handling the present situation in my absence.

            I will assume that you are this capsule’s intended recipient, and not waste time reviewing information you already know.  I will also assume you already know of last month’s mass dream case, or have the means to acquire the relevant information.

            After we last spoke, I discovered a malfunctioning mass dream within the Akasha System.  I can only assume that something went wrong during the dream’s creation; it had drawn in an extremely large number of “guests”, not limited to those Beynuni had selected to be targeted for his original plans.  The dream had also partially collapsed, and was generating large quantities of corrupted data, which was then forming into monsters.  I do not know the precise cause of this phenomenon, but that is also unimportant, for the time being.

            In order to limit the damage caused by the malfunctioning dream, I have disabled the Akasha’s ability to output data.  I also forcibly disconnected everyone connected to the Akasha by an Akasha Terminal, and set the Akasha to deny all connection requests.  I then terminated the dream using the same method as in last month’s mass dream case.  From what I was able to observe, everyone who was caught in the mass dream has now been safely released; I have also recaptured Beynuni’s consciousness, which is now stored within the Knowledge Capsule that was next to this one in the Sanctuary of Surasthana.  I will trust you to deal with the suspect as appropriate, and ensure that he does not escape again.

            Unfortunately, this matter has still not been fully resolved.  Upon checking the Akasha again, I found that it now contained not only the monsters the mass dream had generated, but also a large quantity of loose clean data – which I have determined to in fact be various other people’s consciousnesses.

            I’m sure you can see the problem, here.

            As for actually dealing with this problem…

***

            There was a scream, from nearby.

            He turned, to see a woman and two young children backed against a wall of ice.  Four Abyss Mages – one of each element – were blocking their escape.

            The Cryo Mage raised its staff, shrill laughter echoing – only to be interrupted by a blade of Dendro slicing its shield clean in half.

            The Hydro and Electro Mages fell first, their elemental barriers all but evaporating under a rain of Dendro.  The Mages themselves didn’t last much longer, their bodies disintegrating into rapidly-dispersing motes of dark energy as the falling energy blades tore them apart.  The Cryo Mage, already stunned from having its shield destroyed, went down shortly thereafter, impaled by three Dendro mirrors.

            The Pyro Mage took somewhat longer to dispatch.  Shields made of Pyro resisted Dendro far better than those made of Hydro or Electro, and were not solid enough to be simply cut apart, unlike shields woven out of Cryo.

            He put a sword through the Pyro Mage’s barrier, instead – and his second sword through the Mage itself.

            He watched the black energy particles drift away.

            (The Akasha would clear those out soon enough.  These tiny fragments of corrupted data would be far easier for the automated cleaning function to handle, than the much larger packets that had taken on the form of monsters.)

            He gave the woman and children a moment to calm down before speaking to them.

            “Head that way.”  He pointed in the direction he’d come from.  “There’s a safe zone set up not too far from here.  I will send a signal when it is safe to leave.”

            The woman stared at him for a moment, then slowly nodded.  “Y – yes, sir.”  She paused to take each of the children by a hand, before looking back up at him.  “Thank you.  Lord Idris.”

            He watched them leave.

            Then, he turned back around, checking his progress on his mental map of the Akasha System.  He’d set it to track which areas he’d already cleared, and which areas he hadn’t.

            (Zero point one eight percent complete.  Ninety-nine point eight two percent remaining.)

            He slowly inhaled, then exhaled.

            (It was going to be… a very, very long day.)

***

            Until I return, your orders are as follows.

            Go around the city, and wake everyone you can.  Place an Akasha Terminal on anyone who is alive but unable to wake, so they can reconnect and return to their bodies as soon as connection requests can be accepted again.

            No one else should put on an Akasha Terminal until further notice, barring some dire emergency.  You, as well, should remove your Terminal as soon as you’ve reached the end of this message.  While it should not be possible for any data to be unintentionally transferred in or out of the Akasha at this time, now that all output channels are sealed and connection requests are being blocked, I would rather not take unnecessary risks, in this situation.

            Keep things running to the best of your ability.  From the reports I’ve been getting, things should be… better, than they were the last time the Akasha went down without warning, though it has obviously not been long enough for the city and Port Ormos to maintain anything close to normal operations.  Do what you can, with what you have available.

            Finally, if there is anyone available to do so, attempt to determine if there was anyone else involved in this incident, other than Beynuni and his already-known accomplice.  Detain any suspects you can reasonably hold, given the present circumstances.  If you are too busy with the previous orders, then ignore this one; the investigation can wait, if necessary.

            Those are all of your orders, for now.  I will deal with this matter as quickly as I can.

            This is the end of this message.

            Please remove your Akasha Terminal.

Chapter Text

            It had been five days.

            Things were going… about as well as could be expected, all things considered.

            Sumeru City had more or less shut down, unsurprisingly, in the wake of the Akasha being effectively sealed off to contain the fallout of the corrupted mass dream.  Port Ormos was doing slightly better, thanks to its larger foreign population, but Sumeru’s local literacy and numeracy rates were still just too low to sustain normal operations without the Akasha.

            For what it was worth, things were, at least, noticeably better than they’d been during the first Akasha shutdown.  The planned literacy and math courses had finally gotten underway just over three weeks ago; while that wasn’t nearly long enough to fully cover even basic literacy and numeracy skills, it was enough to have made something of an impact.

            It helped that most people in this first wave of students were actually relatively motivated to learn, and to make use of their new skills.  There was certainly no shortage of opportunities to practice, either, under the present circumstances.

            It wasn’t much… but people were willing to take what they could get, right now.

            Especially with the other obvious problem.

            It had taken most of the first day to find all the people whose consciousnesses were now trapped within the Akasha, and get them moved to safe locations.  The Bimarstan obviously did not have enough space for all of them, even with the staff clearing out meeting rooms and other such spaces to use as temporary wards, and setting up blankets and sleeping mats anywhere they would fit.  The Akademiya had suspended all non-critical operations due to the crisis, allowing its classrooms to be opened up to overflow patients as well, but there was an obvious limit to how much space could be made.  Furniture still had to be put somewhere, after all.

            And of course, there was the matter of finding people to actually care for all the patients.  No small task, given that official counts indicated that some thirty percent of Sumeru City and Port Ormos’s combined population had been incapacitated by this incident.

            There had been no choice but to ask those who were still conscious to take in their now-comatose friends and family members, if at all possible.

            Thankfully, people were at least being… reasonably understanding, about the situation.  There was a lot of anger and frustration, of course, but most of it was being directed at those who’d actually caused the problem.

            There were clear benefits, to having obvious – and available – villains to blame.

            That said, the present circumstances could clearly not be maintained indefinitely.  There was only so much the available population could do to keep things running, given the combined impact of losing the Akasha and a significant chunk of Sumeru’s workforce on zero notice.  The Adventurers’ Guild and Corps of Thirty had called in members and contacts from across Teyvat to provide desperately-needed manpower… but even that wasn’t truly enough.

            Lumine forced herself to smile as she handed over yet another delivery of supplies to the Bimarstan’s receptionist, waving off the young woman’s profuse, fumbling words of thanks, and apologies for the reduced pay the current situation required.  She’d heard more than a few people complaining about that second matter, but it couldn’t be helped; it was pointless to make a fuss about it, especially to someone who clearly had no control over things.

            It had been five days.

            Sumeru was slowly, but surely, sinking.

            There had been no news from the nation’s Archon.

***

            With most of their normal duties rendered temporarily unnecessary, the Akademiya’s two remaining Sages had taken responsibility for managing Sumeru’s day-to-day operations in their Archon and Acting Grand Sage’s absence.

            They had also refused the order to remove their Akasha Terminals for their own safety, just in case the Archon needed to send a message back.  It was their responsibility as Sages, they had said, to take that risk for him, and for their nation.

            They were clearly not interested in repeating past mistakes.

            It was as Lumine and Paimon were dropping off that morning’s report on the situation in the Bimarstan that Cyno, Dehya, and Nilou also showed up in the Grand Sage’s office.  Lumine blinked as she turned at the sound of the elevator arriving, and saw the others stepping off of the circular platform.

            Cyno nodded slightly in greeting as he approached.  “Good morning, Lumine, Paimon.”  He turned to the Sages.  “Sage Naphis, Sage Zaman.  Here is the Matra’s report on what we’ve been able to learn about this incident thus far.”

            Naphis nodded as he accepted the stack of papers the General Mahamatra held out to him.  “Thank you, General Mahamatra.  What are the key points?”

            “There isn’t much for now, unfortunately; as you’re aware, quite a few Matra have been incapacitated as well, and most of those remaining have been busy maintaining order around the city and keeping up with necessary routine tasks.  We have, however, managed to complete an initial interrogation of Beynuni.  He’s been more tight-lipped than he apparently was last month, but we were able to get several suspects’ names out of him; we should have a better picture of things, once we get around to questioning all of them.”

            “Good.  Keep us – or the Archon, after he returns – informed.”  Naphis paused, turning to the other two people who’d just arrived.  “And you are… Nilou and Dehya, correct?”

            Dehya nodded.  “Good morning, Sage.”  She held up a set of papers as well.  “I’m here for the Corps of Thirty; Asfand sent me with their daily report.  Nothing unusual today, just the typical stuff – expenses, statistics…”

            “And, um, I have some reports from around the city,” Nilou said.  “A lot of people all showed up at once, and we didn’t think you’d want everyone crowding in here, so…”

            “The thought is greatly appreciated,” Zaman said with a nod.  “Thank you all for your help during this time; would you mind staying a moment while we read through these, in case there are any questions?”

            Lumine stepped away from the desk, Paimon following her, as the others nodded.  She knew that question hadn’t been intended for her; the Sages had already gone through the report from the Bimarstan before everyone else had arrived, so she was just waiting for Naphis – the Sage of Amurta, which ran the Bimarstan – to write out his response for her to take back.

            Paimon fidgeted a little as they waited.  “What do you think…”  She paused, and glanced around at the others.  “What do you think Alhaitham’s doing right now?  Paimon knows he said he was getting rid of all the monsters that came out of the dream, but… you don’t think he’s been fighting them this whole time, do you?”

            Lumine shrugged.  “I don’t know.  It did sound like there were a lot of them…”

            “Yeah, and there’s all the people still stuck in the Akasha, too… Paimon hopes things are going okay, at least…”

            Another voice came from nearby.  “You guys talking about Mr. Archon?”

            Lumine looked up to see Dehya approaching them.  “Oh, hi, Dehya.  You’re done talking to the Sages?”

            “Yeah, there wasn’t much to say, for me.  Like I said, it was just the usual stuff.”  Dehya paused.  “So anyway, what were you two talking about just now?  The stuff in the Akasha?”

            Paimon fidgeted some more before responding.  “Yeah, Paimon’s getting kind of worried about it.  It’s been a really long time, and nobody’s heard anything…”

            “I feel you, there.  I mean, I know Mr. Archon was strong even before, and he doesn’t tell people stuff if they don’t need to know, but… it does feel like it’s been way too quiet.”  Another pause.  “By the way… Nilou said you guys had been doing a lot of stuff around here, and that… he’d seemed really tired, lately.  You two know what was up with that?”

            Lumine blinked.  “That’s… well, he’s had a lot of work.  And… there’ve been a lot of people complaining about him.  He doesn’t care what they think, but…”

            The Gnosis does.  But he wouldn’t like us telling people that.

            Dehya made a face.  “Yeah, I can see what you’re getting at.  Just hearing that kind of thing is exhausting, especially when people are saying it behind your back.”

            Lumine nodded absently.

            She couldn’t talk about it right now, with everyone else around… but she was worried.  And it was obvious that Paimon was, too.

            To most people, that would probably seem rather silly.  This was a god they were talking about, after all.  An Archon, no less.  And what Dehya had said was true – Alhaitham had been strong even as a human.  He was nowhere near the level of the other Archons, of course – the age difference alone made sure of that – but… Lumine had heard about the assassin from a little over a month ago, and a few bits and pieces of what had happened with Cyno a few days later.

            A weak god was still, nonetheless, a god.

            But…

            Alhaitham was very, very good at hiding things he didn’t want people to see – especially things about himself.  Lumine had picked up on some of his more commonly-used tricks over the last few months, but she knew there was likely plenty of information still slipping past her.  This was clearly a skill he’d developed over the course of a very long time.

            But some things were much harder to hide than others.

            Lumine had noticed many things, in the last month.  The shaky handwriting.  The potion bottles, that always seemed to disappear, right as she entered the room.  The stacks of paperwork, which had been gradually shrinking before, but were slowly starting to grow again.

            Lumine had long learned better than to believe that the gods were invincible.  There were things that would bring down an Archon as surely as any mortal – poison, time, grief…

            … or even, it seemed, their own people.

            Alhaitham had been badly weakened by the mass dream incident.  He had not had time to recover – not fully, at least.

            Lumine was very worried.

            Dehya’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.  The mercenary seemed to have been talking to Paimon.  “I mean, I’m sure he’s alright.  And it’s probably not a great idea to try sending back news if it’s not that important right now, since the Akasha’s such a mess.  But… yeah, five days is kind of a long time to go without hearing anything, especially in a situation like this.”

            Paimon nodded.  “Paimon just wishes there was some way to check on things.  Paimon feels like things could be going really badly, and there’s no way we would know…”

            “Yeah, I get that.  But the Akasha’s pretty much sealed off right now; no one’s allowed to connect, and nothing can be sent back out, either…”

            Lumine frowned.  Was there really nothing they could do?  For some reason… something about the situation seemed familiar.  Something about… the Akasha being sealed…

            Wait.  The Akasha is sealed… something’s sealed in the Akasha…

            She blinked, as she suddenly remembered.

            Nahida.

            Paimon turned, and blinked, as Lumine summoned her bag and started searching through it.  “Lumine?  What are you looking for?”

            Lumine didn’t respond.  She kept searching, until she finally found the item in question – an earpiece, outwardly indistinguishable from the standard model used throughout Sumeru, aside from a tiny, barely-visible “L” etched into one side.

            Paimon blinked again.  “Your Akasha Terminal?  Was there really so much other stuff on top of that already?”

            Lumine paused.  “This isn’t the one I normally use,” she said, slowly.  “This is… the one Alhaitham had modified, for Jnagarbha Day.”

            Dehya blinked, now, as well.  “Jnagarbha Day?  You used that to… right, to wake Lord Kusanali.  Since she’d – sealed her consciousness… in the Akasha…”

            “Wait,” Paimon said, “but… that was Nahida.  Would it even… still work…?”

            “I don’t know,” Lumine admitted.  “I have no idea how it even works; he only explained how to use it.  But… the function is more or less what we want…”

            It’s designed to locate and directly contact the Dendro Archon’s consciousness within the Akasha, bypassing most protections.  How he came up with that, I have no idea, but we know it worked before…

            “Hang on,” Dehya cut in.  “Are you sure about this?  The Akasha’s full of junk data and monsters right now, it could be…”

            Lumine hesitated, for just a moment.  “I… I have to try.  It’s the only thing we can really do, right now.”  Another pause.  “And… I’m resistant to most forms of corruption.  I don’t know if that includes corrupted data, but… it’s probably safer for me, than for anyone else.”

            “… that’s… a fair point…”

            Paimon looked at her, nervously, visibly resisting the urge to fidget.  “Um… Paimon isn’t really sure about this, but… but Paimon’s worried, too.  Just… be careful, okay…?”

            Lumine nodded, then slowly put the earpiece on.

            [Error.  Connection to the Akasha System denied.]

            [Override? (Yes/No)]

            [Yes]

            [Connecting…]

            [Connection successful.]

            [Locating administrator…]

***

            The Mitachurl roared, as it swung its axe over its head.

            He dodged, forcing himself to ignore the sting of hot metal grazing his shoulder, and drove a sword into the monster’s back.  He didn’t wait for the resulting swirl of corrupted data to fully disperse; there was already a second Mitachurl charging at him, this one’s axe glowing with Electro.  He ducked under its wild swing, and dispatched it with a whirling blade of Dendro.

            When no more monsters followed, he allowed himself a moment to catch his breath, then checked his mental map.

            (Eighty-nine point three six percent complete.  Ten point six four percent remaining.)

            He slowly inhaled, then exhaled, wincing at the strain on healing ribs, on the claw wounds in his side that still hadn’t stopped bleeding.  He took a moment to check the shoulder that first Mitachurl had clipped, just now; the skin was red, obviously burned, but it didn’t hurt too much to move.  It would heal soon enough; he could ignore it.

            He looked around, double-checking that there were no people who needed directions to the nearest safe zone, before moving on.  There weren’t too many left at this point; word of his presence had spread, apparently, and people had started fleeing in his direction.  That, at least, had made things easier.

            His leg protested as he continued forward – walking, for the moment.  It hurt too much to run; the Ruin Guard he’d fought a short time ago had gotten a fairly solid hit.  He was pretty sure he’d heard a crack, but he hadn’t been able to give it any attention, at the time – there’d been too many other monsters around, for that – and it was probably mostly healed, by now.

            The floor suddenly seemed to shake beneath him.  He looked down to see a faint, blue glow around his feet.

            He jumped clear just in time to avoid the Cryo Whopperflower’s surprise attack, wincing again as pain lanced through his injured leg, forcing him to one knee.  The Whopperflower went down quickly, at least; it fell to a single slash of Dendro, data breaking apart and drifting away before its head and body had even hit the ground.

            He took another deep breath before dragging himself back to his feet.  His leg objected again – more sharply, this time.  He’d clearly landed badly, just now.

            (He was so tired.)

            He started to resume walking – and paused, as Dendro suddenly pulsed inside him.

            He blinked.

            (That was… much fainter, than it normally was.)

            He suddenly became aware of… a voice, in the back of his mind.

            “… hello…?”

            He blinked, again.

            “… Alhaitham?  Can you hear me?”

            (… that was…)

            “… Traveler?”

            The voice let out a sigh of relief.

            “Yeah, it’s me.  Are… are you okay?”

            He paused.  “Traveler.  How are we talking, exactly?”

            “Oh, uh… I’m using the Akasha Terminal from Jnagarbha Day.  The one you modified to let me connect to Nahida.”

            (… he’d… forgotten about that.  Jnagarbha Day seemed… so long ago, now.)

            “You shouldn’t be connected right now.  The Akasha isn’t clear, yet.”

            “I… I know, but… we were getting worried about you.  It’s been five days… have you been fighting this entire time?”

            (… had it really been that long?  He hadn’t thought to keep track.)

            He forced himself to start walking again.  “There’s no need for that.  I’m – ”  Pain in his side.  He didn’t quite manage to silence his reaction.  “ – I’m fine.”

            “… you’re hurt.”

            “I’m fine,” he repeated, even as lingering cuts and bruises complained.  “I should be back by the end of the day.  There’s no need for – ”

            “Alhaitham, no.  I – I can see you.  You’re bleeding.  And I can hear your breath shaking, that never happens when you’re – ”

            “Traveler.  You should disconnect now.  This is not safe.”

            “But – ”

            “As I’ve said, I’m fine.  I will be back soon.  Please remove your Akasha Terminal.”

            “Alhaitham, you’re – Alhaitham, look out!”

            He blinked, as his mind suddenly registered the large, gray mass flying in his direction.  He just barely reacted in time to dodge the unexpected projectile – a Geo Slime, he realized, as it splattered on the floor.

            There was a deafening roar, right before an enormous shadow suddenly flew across the ground.  He looked up, just in time to see the Stonehide Lawachurl plummeting towards him.

            He moved quickly enough to avoid getting flattened by the titanic monster’s landing, but not quickly enough to avoid the shockwave that followed.  He managed to roll as he himself hit the ground, reducing the impact; it still hurt, though.

            He vaguely registered Lumine’s voice calling his name – then abruptly cutting off, as her connection was apparently disrupted.

            The Lawachurl came charging at him again, before he could get up.  He barely managed to channel Dendro in time to get himself out of the way of its punch.  He skidded to a halt a few meters away, still-healing ribs aching at the memory of the punch he hadn’t managed to dodge, some time ago now.

            He channeled more Dendro, mirror-lined walls forming up around the Lawachurl before it could finish preparing its next attack.  The monster roared, again, as the subsequent barrage of lasers reduced it to a diffuse cloud of black particles.

            He took a moment to catch his breath as the data fragments dispersed.

            Then, he continued onward.

            He wasn’t done, yet.

            (He was… so tired…)

***

            Lumine gasped, as she suddenly found herself in the Grand Sage’s office again.

            Several sets of eyes stared back at her.

            “Oh!  You’re back!”  Paimon flew up and grabbed onto her shoulder.  “Are you okay?  The monsters didn’t hurt you, did they?  Does your head feel funny?”

            Lumine blinked, then shook her head.  “No, I… I’m fine.”  She paused for a moment, to take a look around; it seemed like… everyone… was now gathered around her.  “I… sorry.  Was I gone for a long time?”

            “Not that long,” Cyno said.  “Ten minutes, at most.  We’ve finished giving our reports, though, and Paimon and Dehya explained what you were doing, so we were waiting to see if you got any results.”

            “Yeah, sorry if we surprised you on your way back,” Dehya said.  “So, any luck?”

            Lumine paused, then nodded.  “I found him.  It wasn’t quite the same as last time – it wasn’t like I was physically there – but… we were able to talk, a little.”

            “Oh, that’s good,” Nilou said.  “Was he… doing okay?”

            Another pause.  “Well…”

***

            “That… doesn’t sound good.  You got interrupted by what, now?”

            “A Lawachurl.  It didn’t land on him, thank goodness, but he got thrown pretty far…”

            Dehya cursed under her breath.  “That’s definitely not good.  I mean, yeah, Lawachurls can really jump, but they’re not that fast; for it to be that close…”

            “He’s slowing down,” Cyno said with a grim nod.  “And likely not as alert as he would normally be.  Also, I strongly suspect he’s far more injured than he appeared; between the cloak, and the amount of information he actively hides…”

             “Right.  Okay, so clearly we need to do something about this.  Whatever anyone thinks of the guy, he is the Archon; we can’t just sit around while he gets himself killed cleaning up some idiot’s mess.”

            “But what can we do?” Paimon asked, fidgeting slightly.  “Even if the Akasha wasn’t all closed off…”

            “There has to be something,” Dehya muttered.  “We know it’s possible; Lumine was able to get through with that fancy Akasha Terminal, just now.  There has to be…”

            “Well, let’s start with what we can’t do,” Lumine suggested.  “He said what he actually did in the message he left behind, right?”

            “A reasonable suggestion,” Cyno said, nodding again.  “Let me think… right.  He said he disabled the Akasha’s ability to output data, disconnected everyone with an Akasha Terminal, and set the Akasha to automatically reject all connection requests.  The method by which he shut down the mass dream would also have disconnected anyone who was connected by other means.  That… should be everything that’s relevant, for this.”

            “Well, we know Lumine’s Akasha Terminal can still connect,” Nilou put in.  “But… I don’t know if that really helps, since she could only talk to him…”

            “Right,” Dehya mused, looking up at the ceiling.  “The ‘no output’ part… I’m not sure if there’s anything we can do with that…”

            “Actually,” Cyno noted, “it does suggest that input is still allowed.  Of course, we’d still have to figure out how to get something in…”

            Dehya nodded.  “Okay, let’s start with that, then.  Lumine’s special Akasha Terminal can still connect, but as far as we can tell, the only thing she can do with it is talk to Mr. Archon.  I guess we could share information with him that way, but… that doesn’t seem like it’d really help much, right now.”

            “Um, actually,” Nilou said, “now that I’m thinking about it… Lumine, didn’t you say that special Akasha Terminal did something different the last time you used it?  Something like… you were actually there?”

            Lumine blinked.  “… right.  When I used it on Jnagarbha Day, to contact Nahida… it sent me into her realm of consciousness.  That’s… well, uh, it’s a little hard to explain, but…”

            “But you were able to physically interact with that space, correct?”  Cyno looked down at the floor, seemingly thinking.  “That seems like it could be useful.”

            “Hold on a second,” Dehya suddenly cut in.  “Consciousness… doesn’t this whole mess have something to do with that?  Like, isn’t the reason all those people still can’t wake up…”

            Cyno looked up again, eyes widening.  “Because their consciousnesses are trapped inside the Akasha.  And… the mass dream.  Beynuni kept it running by uploading his consciousness, so he could host it indefinitely.”

            “That’s it!” Paimon exclaimed.  “Lumine, when you used the Akasha Terminal last time, your body stayed out in the real world with Paimon – your consciousness must be what actually went to talk with Nahida!  So if you were able to do stuff like that…”

            Lumine’s eyes widened as well, as realization dawned.  “… then putting someone’s consciousness into the Akasha would probably let them do things in there.  And now that I think about it… Alhaitham actually said something about that, when he was explaining why Beynuni would upload himself, a month ago.  Something like, it would let him interact more directly with the Akasha, similar to how Alhaitham can physically go inside…”

            Dehya’s eyes lit up at that.  “Okay, yes, we can work with that!  Alright, so how can we get someone’s consciousness into the Akasha, right now?  I mean, I assume we probably don’t want to use mass-dream-guy’s tech for this…”

            “That would probably not be the best idea,” Cyno agreed.  “This mess started because his equipment malfunctioned, and we don’t know how any of it works, anyway.  I know there have been previous successful experiments, but… I’m not sure how quickly we can replicate those…”

            “Actually,” another voice suddenly cut in, “you can do it right now.”

            They all blinked, and turned towards the voice.

            Naphis, standing a few meters away, pointed at something off to one side.  “The first successful experiment was performed using the Jnagarbha Day console.  Data flow through the console is one-way – input only – so the block on output shouldn’t affect it.  And it’s directly linked to the Akasha, so it can’t be disconnected.”

            Everyone was silent, for a moment.

            Cyno was the first to speak again.  “One question.  The people who were uploaded using this method, were they safely returned to their bodies?”

            “Yes.  They returned through their Akasha Terminals.  They had some difficulty figuring out how to do so, given that it had never been done before… but they did return safely.”

            Cyno paused, then slowly nodded, before turning back to the others.  “He’s telling the truth.  The Matra should have a copy of the experimental records, I’ll go look for – ”

            “Actually,” Dehya noted with a slight smirk, “that information is probably in the Akasha somewhere, right?”

            “… yes, though I don’t know if direct Akasha access is still allowed.  It may have already been locked as part of the reforms…”

            “Some people are still allowed full access though, right?”

            “… yes.  That’s correct.”

            “Well, you’re the General Mahamatra.  Those two are the Sages.  One of you is probably high up enough to still have access.  Also, Mr. Archon definitely still has access.  Not to mention, he probably already knows a thing or two about the topic, anyway.”

            Cyno stared for a moment, then slowly returned Dehya’s smirk.  “Those are all… very good points.”

            “Wait,” Paimon cut in, “so… are – are we doing it, then?  Um, not that Paimon doesn’t want to help, but… are we really sure it’s safe…?”

            “As sure as we can be, on such short notice,” Cyno admitted.  “There’s… likely not a lot of experimental data, either, given the nature of the subject.  But given the circumstances…”

            “We’ll have to accept that there is some risk,” Lumine agreed.  “Though, to be safe, we shouldn’t upload any more of us than absolutely necessary.”

            Paimon blinked, then suddenly went wide-eyed.  “Wait – Lumine – but – ”

            Lumine paused, for a moment.  “It’ll be alright, Paimon.  I’ll be careful.”

            “But – but – ”

            “Paimon.  Someone needs to be able to explain what happened, if things do go wrong.  There are… there are people who’ll want to know.”

            People I can’t talk about here, in front of everyone else.

            Paimon stared at her for a moment… then, slowly, nodded.  “… okay.  Paimon… Paimon understands.”  The fairy paused, still seeming somewhat uncertain.  “But… promise Paimon that you’ll be extra careful!  If you don’t come back, Paimon will…”

            “I know.  I promise.”

            Silence.

            Lumine paused, then held out her arms.

            Paimon stared for another moment, before flying into the offered hug.

            “You better come back,” the fairy said quietly.  “If… if you disappear again…”

            “I know.”

            Paimon held onto her for a few more seconds, before reluctantly pulling away.

            Cyno’s voice came from one side.  “The Sages will remain here, to monitor the situation from outside; they’ve gone to retrieve the necessary equipment.  We will begin preparations as soon as they return.”

            Lumine turned to him, and nodded.  “Right.  So… four of us are going, then?”

            “Um, actually…”  Nilou looked away, fidgeting slightly.  “I… I think I should probably stay, too.  I – I mean… I want to help, too, but… I don’t really fight that much, and my Vision… doesn’t work right, for some reason, when I’m with people who use elements other than Hydro or Dendro.  So I’d probably just get in the way…”

            “Hey, don’t talk like that.”  Dehya reached over and put a hand on the dancer’s shoulder.  “I’m sure you’re plenty strong!  And your Vision might just have weird rules; some are just like that.”  She paused for a moment before continuing.  “That said, you don’t have to go, if you’re not comfortable with it.  There’s still lots of stuff that needs to be done around the city, after all – you can keep helping out there, if you’d rather do that.”

            Nilou paused, then nodded.  “Yeah.  I think I’ll do that.”  She paused again, and smiled, somewhat hesitantly.  “Thank you, Dehya.  And… everyone else.  I’m really sorry I can’t…”

            Cyno shook his head.  “There’s nothing to apologize for.  Different people have different talents and skills, and are suited for different tasks.  If you’d rather stay here, then focus on what you can do here; what you can do matters more than what you could be doing.”

            “… you’re right.  Thank you, Cyno.”

            “Not a problem.”

            The Sages returned about ten minutes later, with a cart carrying a large box.  Cyno and Naphis went to start setting up the Jnagarbha Day console, while everyone else started unloading the box’s contents – a few headsets for extracting Canned Knowledge, and some other pieces of equipment, which Lumine couldn’t identify.

            “We brought multiple extraction devices so we’d have backups on hand, in case of any problems,” Zaman explained.  “But since this isn’t a procedure that’s been carried out very often, we think it would be best if you go one at a time.”

            “Makes sense,” Dehya agreed.  “Any volunteers to go first?”

            Lumine paused, then picked up a headset.  “I can go first.  I’ve used these before.”

            Paimon fidgeted some more, but didn’t argue.

            “The console is ready,” Cyno called from nearby.  “Are we ready to proceed?”

            Lumine paused again, then nodded, and put the headset on.

            “Yeah.  Let’s do this.”

***

            Nilou watched, as Lumine fell unconscious.

            Cyno laid her body out on the floor, a short distance away, as Sage Naphis inserted the Knowledge Capsule the strange headset had produced into the enormous machine the others had said was used to upload information to the Akasha.  The Sage pressed a few buttons – and then the Knowledge Capsule slowly disappeared, green energy particles drifting silently away.

            A screen flickered… then displayed two words, in small, green text.

            Upload successful.

            “I’m afraid that’s as much feedback as we can get,” Sage Naphis admitted.  “Looking her up with an Akasha Terminal runs the risk of downloading her – and Akasha output is blocked at the moment, anyway.”

            “Unfortunate,” Cyno noted, “but not unexpected.  Continue.”

            Nilou watched as Dehya put on the headset.  As Paimon covered Lumine with a blanket, then hovered nearby, anxiously.

            Nilou swallowed, resisting the urge to play with her hair.

            It was… hard, watching the others do something so obviously dangerous.  Feeling like she should go with them, even with Cyno and Dehya’s assurances that it was okay if she didn’t, but also feeling that going along would be unhelpful.

            She watched, as Dehya also went limp.

            I should be doing something.  I shouldn’t just… stand here.

            But what could she do, though?

            Dehya had said there was a lot of work still left around the city, and that was true.  There were tasks that were normally handled by the Akasha, that needed people to deal with them now that the Akasha was down again.  There were businesses that needed extra hands, because they’d lost too many employees to… the incident.  There were all the people who were unconscious, who needed to be taken care of.

            Nilou could help with all of these things.

            But… it didn’t feel like enough.

            Cyno was putting on the headset, now.

            Nilou watched as he, too, lost consciousness.  As his Knowledge Capsule also went into the machine, and disappeared.

            She looked around at her friends’ bodies, lying unnaturally still on the floor.

            Like Inayah.

            Like Hushang.

            Like –

            … wait.

            Words, from about a month and a half ago, echoed in her mind.

            “The new Archon’s got good ideas, and I’m sure he’s real smart and all…”

            Her own words echoed back.

            “I think that’s a little unfair.”

            She blinked, and looked at the device Sage Zaman was now carefully removing from Cyno’s head.

            At the similar devices sitting on the Grand Sage’s desk.

            … maybe… there’s something else I can do.

***

            (Ninety-one point five eight percent complete.  Eight point four two percent remaining.)

            He forced himself to breathe, to ignore the stab of pain that speared through his chest, as the horde of assorted Slimes and Specters he’d just wiped out disintegrated, dark energy particles swirling in the vortex an Anemo Specter had left behind.  His leg protested again, even more sharply than before, as he forced himself to keep walking; he ignored that, too.

            (The monsters seemed to be coming in larger numbers now, for some reason.  Had they attempted to flee from him, and wound up gathered in these last few areas he hadn’t cleared yet as a result?  Slimes and Specters were hardly major threats, but there had been so many of them, in that last group, that it had been virtually impossible to not take multiple hits in the process of dealing with them.)

            He squinted as more monsters appeared in the distance, to try and identify them from as far away as he could – then groaned, as he registered the floating, fragmented bodies.

            Rifthounds.

            An entire horde of them.

            (Calling this group a “pack” wouldn’t really be accurate.  He’d never heard of Rifthounds forming packs numbering in the dozens.)

            He glanced around, looking for anything nearby that might help thin the crowd, or at least keep some of the Abyssal wolves busy for a while.  There was nothing, which wasn’t surprising; the Akasha wasn’t exactly known for its landscapes.

            It was still unfortunate, though.

            (There was only the straightforward approach, it seemed.)

            He stopped walking, far enough away that the wolves would be unlikely to notice him, as long as he didn’t make any sudden movements.  He waited a few moments, letting the pain from his assorted injuries subside, a little, then focused, channeling Dendro.

            (He could give himself one advantage, at least.)

            The Akasha blurred around him.  He dropped down right in the middle of the horde, and immediately redirected the Dendro he’d been channeling into the familiar octagonal formation of walls and mirrors.  The Rifthounds shrieked, and howled, as lasers tore through them, reducing several to their component data in an instant.  Several more disintegrated as he summoned more mirrors, drowning them in a storm of falling Dendro blades.

            That wasn’t even close to all of the monsters, though – and his ambush had mostly taken out Whelps, with only one or two full-sized Rifthounds falling to the surprise attack.

            He was immediately surrounded by obsidian claws and fangs.

            He dodged, mostly on instinct, as the wolves descended upon him, doing his best to thin their numbers where he could.  The good thing about having so many enemies crowded into such a small space was that it allowed the Dendro blades from his mirrors to hit more targets at a time; he was taking wolves out in twos and threes, without really even trying.

            The bad thing about there being so many enemies in such a small space, was that it was all but impossible to not take hits in return.

            A skeletal tail lashed by, the sharp end cutting a painful gash into his side, opposite the claw wounds that still hadn’t fully healed.  A Whelp snapped at his back; it fell to a shot from a mirror, but not before he felt the sting of fangs in his shoulder.  Another wolf clawed him down one side of his face, even as the rest of its body was already breaking apart.

            Slowly, painfully, he fought his way through the rest of the horde, until only two large Rifthounds – one of each element – remained.

            The Rockfond Rifthound came at him in a flurry of claws, then whipped its tail at him when its first attack missed.  He dodged that, too, and put a sword through the wolf’s head.  He yanked the sword free, rather than waiting for the monster it was lodged in to disappear, and turned to the last wolf.

            (Wounds caused by Rifthounds bled heavily, and were unnaturally slow to heal.  He had to finish this quickly, without taking more hits, if he didn’t want to have to stop and rest.)

            Pain lanced through his chest and side as he moved, as he breathed.  He could feel blood running down his face and neck.  His leg had started to hurt again.

            (He… was so tired…)

            The last Rifthound roared, Electro flaring all around it.

            He tried to run forward, to attack – but his legs wouldn’t move, all of a sudden.

            He tried summoning mirrors instead… only for Dendro to sputter and die, as his swords fell from shaking hands.

            (He was…)

            He felt the Gnosis let out a shuddering pulse.

            It didn’t burn… but something told him it was bad news, regardless.

            (… so tired…)

            He forced himself to take a step forward.

            His legs gave out beneath him.

            He fell.

            The Rifthound roared again.

            The sound… was strangely distant.

            There was another flare of Electro.  Closer, this time.

            (He couldn’t move.)

            A howl.

            More Electro, even closer than before.

            He forced himself to open his eyes.

            He wasn’t facing the right way to see anything… except a shadow, looming over him.

            (He couldn’t move at all.)

            The shadow flickered with violet sparks.

            He could just make out the shape of enormous claws.

            The claws… descended.

            (… fate… was probably still laughing…)

            “Alhaitham!”

            There was another flare of Electro.

            Another shadow, somehow familiar, slammed into the first one.

            There was another howl.

            He closed his eyes again, waiting for the claws to reach him…

            … but they never did.

            The first shadow… vanished.

            There was a voice.

            “Hey!  Are you alright?!”

            (… that was…)

            Something pulled on the back of his cloak collar.

            “Geez, Mr. Archon, you’re really heavy… well, I guess you are the only actual person in here, huh?  The rest of us are just data, heh.”

            (… Dehya?)

            “Alright, enough lying around… hrrgh!”

            She hauled him off the ground, to his feet.

            His legs immediately buckled again – but there was suddenly something under his arm, keeping him from falling.  An arm around his back, holding him up.  Something pressed into his wounded side; he didn’t quite manage to suppress the instinctive hiss of pain.

            “Oh, uh, sorry about that.  Geez, you’re bleeding everywhere…”

            He forced his eyes open again.  Blue eyes, with slit yellow pupils, stared back at him.

            “… Dehya.  How…?”

            (His throat burned.  He probably sounded awful.)

            She smirked at him.  “You’re not the only one allowed to have crazy ideas, you know.  We couldn’t let you have all the fun to yourself, could we?”

            (… we?)

            He managed to find the strength to lift his head, just enough to see in front of him.

            Two more pairs of eyes met his.  Gold, and red.

            “… Lumine.  Cyno.  How did… how did all of you…”

            “The Sages uploaded us,” Cyno said, completely straight-faced, as if that were an entirely normal and everyday thing to have happened.  “Lumine told us you were… having some trouble, cleaning up this mess on your own.  We decided to help out.”

            (… right.  He hadn’t blocked data input, only output.  He wasn’t sure what input channel they’d used, when all connection requests were being denied, but…)

            “That – ”  He coughed, and winced, as more pain speared through him.  “… that was…”

            “Stupid?”  Dehya grinned even more widely.  “Crazy?”

            “… something like that.”  He tried to stand up, to maybe look a little less useless, but his body still wouldn’t move.  “Though… that’s probably to my benefit… right now…”

            “Yeah, probably.  What was it you said, that one time?  Something about a little madness being a good thing?”

            (… he had said something like that, hadn’t he?  That seemed like… so long ago…)

            “In any case,” Cyno said, “you should rest, for now.  You’re clearly not in any condition to fight… but I’ve been told you’re a ‘stubborn blockhead’, so I assume you won’t agree to leave until this has been dealt with.  Tell us which way to go.”

            It took him a minute to fully process what was happening.

            He’d… understood, before, but… he hadn’t really registered that this was real.

            That the others… really were here, inside the Akasha.

            (That they had come for him.)

            “… alright.”  He coughed again.  “I’ll… show you the map.  It’ll be faster than – ”

            There was a faint flash of light, in the distance.

            He blinked, and looked up.  The others did the same, following the direction of his gaze.

            After a moment, a single bright streak flew across the Akasha’s “sky”.

            Then, there was another voice.

            Hello?  Am I… am I doing this right?

            Dehya blinked again.  “Wait.  Was that…?”

            Okay, um… I don’t know if you can hear me, but…

            (… Nilou?)

***

            Hello, A – um… Lord Idris.

            It’s me.  Nilou.

            Um… I don’t know if you’ll hear this, but… I figured it was worth a try.  The others all went to try and help you – though, um, you probably already know that, by now – and… and I wanted to help out, too.

            I just thought it might help you to know… that people know what you’re doing, right now.  That people know you’re in the Akasha, fighting all the monsters, so everyone can wake up.  So that… everyone can come home.

            Everyone knows you’re trying to fix this.

            Everyone wants you to be okay.

            Um, so if this works… you’ll probably hear from a lot of other people, too.  Like I said, everyone knows what you’re doing.  And they want their friends and family to come back soon… so they want you to come back soon, too.

            Thank you… Lord Idris.

            Please be safe.  Please come back to Sumeru.  To everyone.

            We believe in you!

***

            “Hi everyone, I’m back!”

            Paimon looked up from the box of Knowledge Capsules she’d been helping Sage Zaman unload as Nilou stepped off the elevator to the Grand Sage’s office.  “Hi Nilou!  How are things going in the city?”

            “Pretty good!”  Nilou took a moment to set down the three boxes she’d brought with her, also filled with Knowledge Capsules, before continuing.  “That should be everything from the Grand Bazaar; I’ll be going to help Farhad at the Bimarstan next, since so many people are there.  Has anyone else been here, yet?”

            “We just received two boxes from Lambad’s Tavern,” Sage Zaman reported, “and one from Puspa Café.  The rest of these boxes are from around the Akademiya, and I believe some people from the Adventurers’ Guild have been stopping by with smaller batches, which are being added to and brought up with the larger deliveries.”

            “This was a really good idea!” Paimon said.  She handed a capsule to Sage Naphis to be uploaded.  “Everyone seems really excited to help out this way!”

            Nilou nodded, smiling.  “I’m glad we’re getting such a good response.  I’ll be heading back down, then – Farhad said the Bimarstan had a bunch of boxes full, when I passed by earlier, so there’ll be lots more coming soon!”

            Paimon waved to her, as she stepped back onto the elevator.

            Nilou took a deep breath, as the elevator descended again.

            They had no way of knowing if her idea was working, of course… but everyone seemed happy to at least be doing something, to try and help.

            If nothing else, we can at least say we tried.  And even if there’s no actual effect, or he doesn’t actually hear anyone’s messages until later… at least he’ll know people finally see that he’s trying, too.

***

            A few people looked down at the strange headset, as Nilou finished explaining her idea.

            Their expressions seemed… doubtful.

            “You said that thing’s used… to make Canned Knowledge?” Afshin asked, slowly.  “And that it works by pulling information out of people’s brains?”

            Nilou nodded.  “Yeah.  And, um… I know that sounds kind of scary, but… Lumine said she’s used one of these before.  And that it’s safe, as long as the person giving their memories is okay with it.  I… I haven’t tried it yet, myself, but…”

            Jut frowned.  “Lumine is… your blonde-haired friend, right?  The Traveler?  She seems trustworthy enough…”

            “But she’s the Traveler,” Afshin said.  “She fought a god, something like this is probably nothing to her.  We’re just a bunch of normal people, here.”

            Nilou resisted the urge to fidget.  She’d known people would be unsure about this, but…

            We shouldn’t just be sitting around, waiting.  Not when there’s more that can be done.  Not when others are trying so hard.

            “I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” Farhad put in.  The large man looked thoughtful.  “The Akademiya’s got some… strange… technology, but… it’s not unusual for there to be both good and bad ways to use something.  This is something people can do pretty quickly and easily, and we know it can be safe…”

            “Why take the risk, though?” someone asked, from the small crowd that had gathered.  “Everyone knows the kinds of things the Akademiya’s gotten up to before; this whole mess we’re in right now started because of one of them.  That idiot scholar even messed up the Akasha, this time.  We should be staying out of the way while the Archon deals with all this, not getting up to all sorts of crazy experiments.”

            “The Archon has been taking a while, though,” someone else said.  “It probably would be a good idea to help him out, if we can.  I mean, I’m not entirely sure about this, either, but…”

            “Are you out of your mind?  This is the Archon we’re talking about.  It’s his job to deal with this stuff, not ours.  And really, it’s about time he did something useful…”

            Nilou paused, for a moment.

            She suddenly felt…

            “That’s not fair.”

            The person who’d just been speaking looked at her, and blinked.  “Huh?”

            “That’s not fair.”  Nilou kept talking, before anyone could interrupt.  “It’s not fair, for us to just… stand here, waiting, while the Archon fixes all of our problems for us.  Even if – even if it’s his job to protect Sumeru, and he can do a lot of things way better than we can… that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do what we can, too.”

            We shouldn’t make things harder than they need to be, just to do things ourselves… but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do anything at all, either.

            “Well… I guess, but – ”

            “You said that Lord Idris should do something useful, just now.  Has he not already done a lot of things for us, since he became the Archon?”

            “Uh… I mean, I guess making everyone learn to read and stuff turned out to be kind of useful, with the Akasha having to be shut down again…”

            “Right, and I think everyone can see that now – but what was everyone saying before all this happened?  Remember when Lord Idris first said we needed to be able to do all those things without the Akasha, and people all got upset and said there was no point?”

            Nilou decided not to say anything about what people had done beyond just saying there was no point.  From the looks on everyone’s faces, they were already thinking about it.

            “And last month, the first time people were falling asleep and not waking up.  Lord Idris woke everyone up as soon as he knew what was wrong, and how to fix it, didn’t he?”

            She saw a man look away, uncomfortably.  She recognized him, though she didn’t know his name; he was a regular at the Grand Bazaar, but mostly avoided talking to anyone more than he needed to.  She remembered noticing that he hadn’t been around for a couple of weeks, about a month ago, and that he’d seemed strangely tired for a while before that.

            “And… everything else he’s been doing, since – since all the stuff that happened, before.  Since he became Archon in the first place.  He didn’t ask for that.  He didn’t ask to… to suddenly be in charge of a nation, after everything that happened, after what happened to Lord Kusanali.”  She paused.  “He didn’t have to do anything, either.  He could have just told us to figure things out ourselves.  He could have just… gone into the Akasha, and never come out.”

            Everyone was… very quiet, now.

            “But… he didn’t.  He stayed, even when everyone kept saying he wasn’t doing anything, when he was really doing everything.  He was getting rid of the laws against the arts, and trying to make things better for the desert.  He was keeping the Akademiya running, after the old Sages and everyone who’d been working for them were removed, and making sure all those bad things that happened wouldn’t happen again.  He fixed the Akasha, so it couldn’t steal people’s dreams, or make people spy on their friends, or put everyone into another Samsara.  He could have just… never turned the Akasha back on at all.  But he didn’t do that, because we still need the Akasha, and he knew it would take a long time to change that.”

            He went to Coronation Day, even though he didn’t really want to.  He stopped Inayah’s father from shutting down Zubayr Theater, even after we gave him a bunch of extra work by not telling him about it right away.  He went into the Akasha to save everyone, even though all this happened because people didn’t listen when he said not to make more shared dreams.

            Silence.

            He’s still in the Akasha now, even though he’s already hurt.

            “So… it’s not fair, for us to stand here and do nothing, and say that the Archon will fix everything.  It’s not fair, for people to say that, and also complain that he’s not doing anything, and that he won’t do anything.”  She stopped talking, for a moment, to catch her breath.  “It’s not fair for us to make him do everything by himself, and do nothing to even help.”

            More silence.

            Nilou started to open her mouth again, but stopped.

            She didn’t know what else she could say.

            Finally, someone else spoke.

            “Nilou has made a lot of excellent points,” Sheikh Zubayr said.  “I think most of us are likely aware that the gods gain power from their people’s faith; this is certainly a scenario that would likely call for some extra power, and it will cost us little to try and help our Archon in the suggested manner.”  He paused.  “And… if nothing else, it’s something we can do for all of our friends and loved ones who are still sleeping.”

            Nilou blinked.  She hadn’t thought of that last point.

            Not everyone will really care about the Archon… but there’s hardly anyone who doesn’t know at least one person who’s asleep.

            Another voice came from the crowd.  “So… what, then?  Are we… doing this, or not?”

            “I think Nilou’s idea is a good one,” Sheikh Zubayr said with a nod.  “Is anyone else willing to help?”

            More silence.

            Then, slowly, people began to nod, and talk again, and raise their hands.

            Nilou could suddenly feel hope bubbling inside her.

            This is going to work.

***

            Ever since that first visit to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, four months ago, there’d been… one question in particular, he’d been turning over in his mind.

            Who was he?

            On the surface, that was a stupid question.  He obviously knew who he was.  He knew his own name, the things he liked and disliked.  The things he was good at, and the things he wasn’t.  He knew what his goals in life were, and what he was willing – and not willing – to do to achieve those goals.  He knew what he was and wasn’t willing to do in general.

            And yet… he still wasn’t sure of the answer.

            He hadn’t been sure of many things, since the Gnosis had chosen him to be its new host.

            The question hadn’t bothered him too much, at first.  Being Archon was… very different, from being a relatively ordinary human, living a relatively mundane life… but in the end, he was still, ultimately, himself.

            But then… he’d created “Lord Idris”.

            It had been necessary, of course.  He didn’t regret making the choice to hide his identity behind a name pulled more or less by random out of a book, behind the Archon’s eyes and cloak.  He still wanted to go back to living a mostly-ordinary life at some point, after all, and that would be significantly more difficult if everyone knew who – or, perhaps, what – he was.  But it hadn’t been reasonable to keep the Archon completely hidden from the public, either; not with the mess he’d inherited with his unwanted ascension.

            And so, he’d hidden himself.

            And then the Gnosis had started giving him… feedback.

            In some ways, he and the Gnosis were… in agreement.  He’d figured out, fairly quickly, that the Gnosis did not care what people thought of him.  That had been rather obvious, really; he was fully aware of his own reputation, and the Gnosis would definitely have revealed a certain function far sooner if the aforementioned reputation had been any of its concern.  It also seemed unbothered by the many people who were undoubtedly displeased by the Acting Grand Sage’s… comments… on their work, and by a certain Snezhnayan scholar taking… particular exception… to certain foreign policies.

            Unfortunately, the Gnosis definitely cared what people thought of the Archon.

            The Gnosis cared a lot about those opinions.

            It had become a silent reminder of… what… he now was.  One that had come more and more frequently, over the months, even as he worked harder and harder – partly in an attempt to stop the pain, partly so he could hopefully leave the throne just a little bit sooner.

            Some days, he could almost hear the unspoken words.

            “You are Lord Idris, the Second Dendro Archon.”

            He didn’t want to be the Archon.

            He wanted to be himself.

            But… one could not always have everything they wanted.

            And yet, even knowing that… he’d still fought the seemingly inevitable.

            (Was it not part of being human, to want what one could not have?)

            Some days had been harder than others.  It had been especially hard, any time he’d had to wear the Archon’s cloak.  He’d sometimes wondered if, perhaps, the particular way in which his elemental powers manifested was not some cruel divine joke.  If Celestia wasn’t laughing, every time he saw the eyes that weren’t his reflected in the mirrors he himself created.

            And so, the question remained.

            Who was he?

            (He didn’t want to be Lord Idris… but it wasn’t his own reflection in the mirror, either.  So if he was neither Lord Idris, nor himself, then who was he?)

            He still wasn’t sure.

            Yet…

            He listened, as Nilou’s voice drifted down from the Akasha’s “sky”, in the wake of that bright streak that had flown by.

            He watched, as another bright streak fell.

            And then another.

            And another.

            There was another voice.  Then another, and another, as more and more of those strange lights descended.  He didn’t recognize most of the voices, and with so many at once, it was hard to pick out the words… but he still had a decent idea of what they were saying, from the tone in which they all seemed to be speaking, from the words that seemed to repeat.

            The voices were… thanking someone.

            Expressing belief in that someone.

            He had a guess as to who that someone was, based on what Nilou’s voice had said… but it wasn’t until the Gnosis pulsed, that he really considered that his guess might be correct.

            (It didn’t burn.  There didn’t seem to be anything else wrong, either…)

            He suddenly realized… he wasn’t in as much pain, anymore.

            He looked down, to see Dendro pouring into wounds that had stubbornly refused to close, sealing them over.  Washing away old bruises, burning away dried and drying bloodstains.

            His body moved when he instructed it to, this time.  Dehya glanced over at him, blinked, then shifted under his weight, helping him stand.  His legs held.

            “I appear to have spoken too soon,” Cyno noted, raising an eyebrow.  “This does make things easier, though.”

            He looked at the General Mahamatra for a moment, then up at the sky, at the falling lights.  He listened, as more and more voices spoke.

            He… wasn’t entirely sure how to feel, about this.

            On the one hand, that this was happening now was… undoubtedly a good thing.  There was still a fair amount of the Akasha to clear; dealing with that would be much easier, without so many lingering injuries slowing him down.  He was noticeably less tired than before, too, and he could feel the Gnosis generating more elemental energy.  Energy that was going straight into his reserves, rather than turning the Gnosis into his personal internal incinerator.

            But… the Gnosis didn’t care about him.

            The Gnosis… only cared about the Dendro Archon.

            (He was…)

            A voice cut into his thoughts.  “So, Mr. Archon, which way are we going?”

            He looked back down, at the others.

            They looked back at him, evidently waiting.

            “… one moment.”  He paused, checking his mental map.  “We should… head in that direction, first.”  He paused again, pointing.  “We will probably encounter more monsters before long.  Fair warning, they’re likely to have formed… rather large… groups.”

            “Noted,” Cyno said with a nod.  “Are there more trapped consciousnesses we need to watch out for?”

            “Aside from, well, ourselves,” Dehya snarked.

            He paused, again, while the Akasha ran a quick search.  “… there… does not appear to be anyone else.  We should be the only people in here, who are not in an established safe zone.”

            “Good to hear.”  Cyno paused.  “And in that case… I suppose there’s no need to continue dancing around the obvious.”

            “… ‘the obvious’?”

            Dehya laughed.  “He means you, genius.”

            He blinked.

            Cyno smirked at him.  “We all know who you are, so there’s no longer any need to avoid the subject… or related subjects.  Unless you’d rather we continue doing so, of course.”

            He blinked again, as he finally processed what they were talking about.

            As he finally processed the way they were speaking – the way they’d been speaking, this entire time.  The casual language, the relaxed tones.

            He looked over at the last member of their group, who still hadn’t said anything, yet.

            (Who’d always spoken to him exactly the same way she had the first time they’d met, in Port Ormos.  The same way she seemed to speak to everyone, even… the others.)

            Lumine just smiled, still saying nothing.

            (… he was…)

            Alhaitham paused, then slowly smiled as well.

***

            Is it recording now?

            Okay.  Ah…

            Hello, Lord Idris.  I’m… well, you probably don’t know who I am.  But that’s alright; you probably haven’t had time to meet most of us yet, with how much has happened in these last few months.  I imagine you haven’t had time for much of anything, outside of running Sumeru.

            Now that I’m thinking about it… do gods even have such a thing as “free time”?  I hope you do; doing nothing but work all the time sounds like it would be exhausting.

            Anyway, I don’t really have anything specific to say, but… I still wanted to send you one of these messages.  Nilou said it might help you, and… I want to do what I can.

            I wasn’t able to do much for Lord Kusanali, when she was the Archon.  There’s so much I wish I could repay her for… but there’s not much anybody can do about that, now.  And you’ve already done so much for Sumeru, so I just think… it’s important for us to do what we can, while we can.  To show our thanks now, rather than putting it off until later.

            So… thank you.  Thank you for all the work you’ve done, these last few months.  I know you didn’t ask to be the new Archon – Nilou said that, and really, I can’t imagine anyone would be too excited about suddenly having to fix so many problems.  I can’t imagine that running an entire nation is easy, either, even when there aren’t so many problems to fix.

            And if I might say… I think a lot of people appreciate you more than they realize.  Not because they don’t know how much you’ve been doing, exactly, but because they haven’t stopped to think about how much the things you’ve done really matter.

            So thank you, again.  Thank you for everything.

            Please come back safely!

***

            “Monsters, straight ahead!”

            Dehya increased her pace even as she was still calling out the alert to the others, running ahead to lead the attack, as they’d agreed she would in the plan they’d made.  She narrowed her eyes, zeroing in on the group of Ruin Machines they’d encountered – a large number of assorted Sentinels, some Guards, a few Hunters and Drakes, and a single Grader in the far back.

            It was an impressive array, to be sure… but she wasn’t worried.

            These piles of junk won’t even know what hit them.

            She felt Dendro flare, above and slightly behind her; a moment later, a storm of lasers and energy blades rained down upon the horde of automatons, a few Sentinels going down on the spot as their cores were ripped apart.  The rest turned in the direction the sudden attack had come from, seeming confused – or as confused as a bunch of robots could be, really.

            Dehya didn’t give them any extra time to process the situation.  She leaped at the nearest enemy – a Defender – slamming a Pyro-wreathed fist into the ground in front of it.  The Dendro energy clinging to the machine’s frame immediately caught fire.

            The flames spread quickly, swiftly engulfing the remainder of the horde.

            An enormous boulder crashed into the ground nearby, reducing the hapless Ruin Scout in its way to a scattered heap of rapidly-disintegrating parts.  A pair of glowing, red-orange crystals appeared as Geo pulsed through the surrounding flames.

            An instant later, massive, Electro-laced claws smashed through one of the crystals, as Cyno raced past her.  The crystal broke apart, the elemental energy it had contained re-forming into a translucent bubble around the General Mahamatra as he dove into the crowd.  His claws scythed through a burning Guard; there was a loud crack as one of the machine’s arms was blown clean off, as Electro reacted with Pyro and Dendro.

            “Stay inside the ring!” she reminded him, even as she swung her claymore through two Cruisers attempting to attack.  He didn’t respond, but a brief pause in the sound of explosions going off told her that he had heard.

            A Ruin Hunter came crashing down a short distance away, a sword jammed in its “eye”.  A blur of white and gold followed, plunging into the fallen machine with a massive burst of Geo.  The golden energy pulsed outwards, forming into jagged walls – conveniently right on the outer edges of Dehya’s Pyro field.

            Dehya smirked as another boulder fell, this one bringing down a Skywatch Drake.  It was somewhat odd, to see the slightly-built, Visionless girl… and to remember that she wielded four elements, and was quite possibly still the strongest out of any of them.

            The Archon was definitely giving her a run for her money, though.

            Dehya threw her weapon ahead of her before charging forward, Pyro blazing.  Dendro poured down in front of her as she ran, downing flying enemies and shattering mechanical joints and cores, marking the survivors for her to light ablaze.

            There was a flicker of Geo and Pyro, somewhere nearby, shortly followed by a twinge of pain as Pyro flared on her side.  She glanced in the direction the continuing sound of explosions was coming from, to confirm that Cyno was still in range of her Vision’s protection; she briefly caught sight of a gleaming green diamond – slightly difficult to see, in a place where everything was green – flying at a Ruin Destroyer trying to ambush the General Mahamatra, slicing through its “stem” without so much as slowing down.

            It was… honestly a little terrifying, how much power was being casually thrown around, if she thought about it too much.

            She decided not to think about it too much.

            Dehya lunged at the next closest enemy, another Defender, channeling the Pyro that now engulfed most of her side, as well as the opposite shoulder, down into her fists – and paused, as Dendro fell not on this enemy, but on an Earthguard Drake some distance away.

            She hesitated for another fraction of a second, before changing course to target the Drake instead.  Alhaitham wasn’t stupid; he probably had a good reason for –

            Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a series of explosions, alarmingly close.  She glanced in the direction of the noise, just in time to see the last of what seemed to have been several missiles crashing down, right where the Ruin Defender had been.  She couldn’t tell if the robot was still there; it had been completely consumed by billowing clouds of smoke.

            I didn’t even see those coming.  That could’ve been bad.

            Some ways away, light flared from the Ruin Grader’s eye.  An enormous laser shot from the glowing core, sweeping towards Cyno, who was busy tearing apart another Drake – only to be suddenly cut off, as a blade of Dendro abruptly embedded itself in the Grader’s eye.  A white blur came flying out of a flash of green light, slamming into the Grader with such force that the enormous automaton was sent toppling over backwards.

            Dehya decided not to think too much about that, either.

            The lights continued to fall.

***

            … whoa.  Can’t see much while wearing this thing, heh.

            Oh, is it already on?

            Alright.  Well…

            Hey.  Uh… Lord Idris, right?  Sorry, I’m not around these parts much.  Haven’t been in the city in… a few months, actually.  And that was when we were cleaning out those Fatui rats… so I wasn’t actually in the city much then, either.

            To be honest… I don’t know if I really even count as one of yours.  Not that I’d mind; you seem like a decent guy, from what I’ve heard.  The desert and rainforest have a lot of… history… though… but maybe we’ll be able to leave all that behind, someday.

            Anyway, we heard from our city friends that you all were having some trouble, here, so we figured we’d come lend a hand.  I don’t really get what’s going on, but… something about some too-smart guy poking around in stuff he shouldn’t have, making a big mess, and putting a bunch of people to sleep?  Those scholarly types sure do get up to some strange things… though I probably don’t need to tell you that, hah.  I’m sure you’ve seen way more strange things than I have, by this point.

            But hey, come back to your city safely, you got that?  You’ve got people who are worried about you, from what I can tell.  And you’ve got people who like you in the desert, too.  Candace and Miss Setaria weren’t able to come, but they’ve both said good things about how things have been changing, these last few months.  And we might not see as much of what you’ve been doing, outside of Aaru Village, but… we can tell things are better now than they were before, when the old “Sages” were running things.

            … you seem like one of those quiet, efficient types, from what I’ve heard.  Some people seem to wish you were more… friendly, I guess?  But I don’t think you necessarily have to worry about that.  I think this place really needed someone who just gets things done.

            So… yeah.  Good luck with… whatever’s going on.  Like I said, I don’t really get it.  But you seem to know what you’re doing, so that’s alright.

            Uh… do I just take this off, now…?

***

            “Excuse me, passing through!”

            Tighnari looked up and nodded, pulling his chair closer to his workbench to give the woman coming in his direction, carrying a heavy-looking box, more room to pass.  There was a muffled clank from inside the box as she walked by – Knowledge Capsules, he knew.

            He wasn’t entirely sure exactly how the current situation had come about… but things seemed to be better than they had been, these past few days, at least.

            The last few days had been… something of a blur, Tighnari would admit.  He still wasn’t entirely sure what exactly had happened, to apparently incapacitate nearly a third of Sumeru City and Port Ormos’s population, prompting an urgent message requesting his help at the Bimarstan; he’d gotten a general summary of the incident when he’d first arrived, but there hadn’t been time for a more detailed explanation.  His understanding of things was that some idiot had gotten too carried away experimenting with the Akasha’s ability to create dreams, made a critical error, and wound up setting off some kind of… uncontrolled mass mind-uploading event.

            That was not a set of words Tighnari had ever expected to see strung together.

            He wondered how much people had really learned, since the events of a few months ago.

            In any case, the days that followed had been… exhausting.  There had obviously been the sheer workload those still conscious had suddenly been burdened with; there hadn’t been nearly enough hands available to reasonably keep up with everything that needed to be done, but they’d had no choice but to try.  That had meant working long hours with few breaks, and juggling far too many tasks at once, just to stay on top of the usual to-do lists.  Naturally, this was incredibly physically draining.

            Worse, however, had been the mental and emotional drain.

            Tighnari had never realized just how unsettling it was to walk through entire rooms and halls full of people who could not wake.  From the looks on the other staff members’ faces, they had never seen anything quite like this, either.  They’d mentioned that there had been a similar incident about a month ago, that had also become rather overwhelming, but that had apparently not been on nearly the same scale as… this.  There had been all the anxious friends and family members to deal with.  There’d been the fact that they were doing all this without the Akasha, a scenario Sumeru was still woefully ill-equipped for.

            There’d been the total lack of news regarding how long this would go on for, and the looming possibility that… there simply wouldn’t be an end.  That the Archon might not make it back in time, if he even made it back at all.

            There’d been the knowledge that there was really nothing more they could do, but keep everyone alive and wait.

            Needless to say, morale had gotten… low.

            And then, suddenly… there had been more they could do.

            Tighnari couldn’t say he hadn’t had… doubts… about using the Akademiya’s Canned Knowledge extraction devices.  Cyno had told him about how the ex-Sages had used them; that sort of thing was hard to forget, even knowing that the technology had been used safely, in the past, and that its misuse was really something of an outlier.

            But it was something they could do, to at least try and improve the situation.  The morale boost that would give, alone, was enough to make the idea worth considering.

            And Tighnari was not afraid to admit that… he really did owe the Archon a pretty big favor, given what the latter had done for Cyno.  The Archon could very easily have ignored the signs of trouble, and pretended to have known nothing.

            That he hadn’t, was reason enough for Tighnari to give his faith in return.

            That the Archon himself was apparently not even the one asking for his people’s faith, after five days fighting alone in the Akasha… only made the choice easier.

            Tighnari hadn’t been the only one to readily offer their help, either.  The response from those gathered in the Bimarstan, at least, had been overwhelmingly positive.  Everyone – staff members, friends and relatives of those who were unconscious, even various people who’d been in and out over the course of the last few days, delivering supplies and running errands for those who couldn’t leave – had been very happy to have something they could do, other than sitting around waiting for news that might never come.

            The Bimarstan was… very busy, now.  There were people making Knowledge Capsules – speaking wasn’t actually necessary, but many people found it easier to compose their thoughts if they voiced them out loud – and volunteers packing finished capsules into boxes.  Volunteers moving filled boxes to the front lobby, so the people transporting them to the Akademiya would have an easier time collecting them.

            It was getting rather noisy – but Tighnari found that he didn’t actually mind, despite his sensitivity to sound.  The background noise was actually making it easier for him to focus on his tasks; sorting and preparing herbs and other ingredients was fairly mindless work, but it had been hard to focus on much of anything, these past few days, with the heavy silence that had filled the Bimarstan’s halls.

            He did pause for just a moment, though, as he happened to hear someone talking nearby.

            “Hey, so are we allowed to record more than one of these things?”

            “Well… I don’t see why not,” somebody else replied.  “Though maybe we should check that there aren’t any safety concerns…”

            Tighnari forced himself to stifle a laugh, as he recognized the first voice.

            Does he know…?

***

            Hello.  Lord Idris.

            You… probably don’t know who I am.  Or… perhaps you do, actually, if only through the words of others.

            I imagine your proxy has had… some rather negative things, to say about me.

            To be fair, I can’t say I didn’t deserve his criticism.  I did… some rather foolish things.  It took me longer than I’d like to admit to see that… but I’ve had a lot of time to think, recently.

            I’m recording this now, because… because of my daughter.  She’s one of those currently trapped in the Akasha System.

            I… I miss her.

            I want her to… to come back.

            She most likely won’t come home.  Not to me, at least.  I don’t know if your proxy said anything about why I was doing… certain things… but… my daughter and I… have not been on good terms, for a while.  She ran away, in fact.

            But… she’s still my daughter.

            I’ll admit, I still don’t quite… understand… what it is she sees in the arts.  I don’t know if I’ll ever understand; maybe I’m too old and set in my ways, at this point.

            But it was… impressive, what she and her friends were willing to do, to oppose me.

            If the arts can inspire that kind of resolve… perhaps that alone makes them worthwhile.

            I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me.  But I’d like to apologize to her, regardless.

            Of course, an apology is meaningless, if there is no one to hear it.

            I’ve never prayed to a god, for any reason, before.  This may be… presumptuous… of me, to pray only when I have something to ask for, but…

            Please save my daughter.

            It would be foolish of me to say that I won’t ever ask for anything again, or anything to that effect, so I won’t.  I don’t imagine you’d appreciate empty promises of that sort.

            And I don’t know if this message will truly help you with the present situation… but the possibility alone makes this worth the attempt.

            In any case, regardless of what happens…

            Thank you for listening to me.

            Thank you for your leadership.

***

            A Consecrated Beast was never an enemy to be taken lightly.

            Two or three Consecrated Beasts, in a group, were a threat even experienced warriors would hesitate to take on, if they had any sense.

            Five Consecrated Beasts, all of different elements… was not something Cyno had ever considered facing.

            Not willingly, at least.

            Of course, his past considerations had also not accounted for… potential allies.

            Flames erupted from the ground as he slammed a massive, clawed hand down on the Consecrated Horned Crocodile’s head, Pyro and Electro reacting with a loud bang.  He didn’t flinch at the expected shockwave, which he barely felt, courtesy of the bubble of elemental energy that surrounded him.

            A short distance away, Lumine leaped up and grabbed the Flying Serpent by one of the bony protrusions on its neck, swinging herself up onto its back.  Dehya blocked a rain of burning feathers with her claymore as she charged at the Red Vulture, pausing only to shatter the glowing energy crystal the monster had generated along the way.

            Cyno’s attention was suddenly drawn by a faint hiss to his left.  He quickly turned in the direction of the sound, to see the Consecrated Scorpion already practically on top of him, tail and pincers already raised.  He started to move to swat the mutated arachnid away, but the Horned Crocodile suddenly thrashed beneath him, forcing him to hold it down with both hands.

            He immediately remembered why nobody liked Consecrated Beasts.

            Thankfully, he could already see Dendro flashing in the corners of his eyes.

            Two mirrors came flying in, jamming themselves into the Scorpion’s pincers, wedging them open.  Several more mirrors lodged themselves between the segments of the monster’s tail, keeping the appendage from bending properly.

            Cyno exhaled, as he finally managed to get the crocodile still enough to safely divert his attention from it again, and quickly threw the scorpion away with one hand.  The latter beast fell on its back, flailing as it attempted to get up – something of a tall order, with so many joints still partially immobilized by sharp-edged shards of crystallized Dendro.

            Somewhere a bit further away, the Consecrated Fanged Beast screeched.  The sound cut off abruptly, replaced by a muffled gurgling noise, which also went silent a few seconds later.

            The Horned Crocodile thrashed again, Hydro splashing all around it.  Cyno grunted as he wrestled with the beast, pouring Electro through his hands.  Geo and Pyro flickered as his shield broke; sharp bones and spines dug into his skin.  He ignored them; he could feel Pyro rising from the ground beneath him, quickly dulling the sting of shallow cuts with its faint heat.

            Finally, the crocodile seemed to tire again.  Cyno quickly took the opportunity to slam its head into the ground again; another wave of Pyro flared up beneath them, reacting with Hydro and Electro with a very satisfying CRACK.

            Cyno took a moment to catch his breath as the crocodile finally fell still, then dissolved back into its component data.  He turned as the black energy particles drifted away, focusing his attention back onto the Consecrated Scorpion; the arachnid was just managing to work the last few fragments of Dendro out of its tail and pincers.

            He started to charge, Electro flaring from his claws – and paused, at the strange heat that suddenly seemed to pulse through his veins.

            He suddenly became aware of a voice, calling his name.

            He turned, to see Alhaitham standing a few meters away, in a defensive stance.  Dehya was behind him, on one knee, bracing herself on her claymore – and almost completely engulfed in her own flames.

            Cyno froze, as his stomach lurched… then exhaled, as he saw the flickers of gold amidst the characteristic red-orange glow of Pyro.

            Good.  I stopped in time.

            He’d gotten careless, though.  He was still too used to fighting alone… and to being the one protecting those around him, rather than the other way around.

            He still wasn’t used to sharing his burdens.

            He’d do his best to learn, though.

            Cyno quickly pulled away as the Consecrated Scorpion started to get back up, allowing the divine spirit’s power to fade.  Fortunately, things seemed to be going well enough, otherwise.  The Fanged Beast was gone, as expected from the sounds he’d heard earlier.  The Red Vulture was still up, but clearly weak; most of its armor had been broken off, and one wing was dragging on the ground.  A bit further away, there was a massive burst of Anemo – right before the Flying Serpent came plummeting out of the sky, a blade of Electro in its neck, its body already breaking apart into fragments of data.

            The vulture screeched, and started to lunge forward, only to be cut off by a shower of mirrors.  Pyro flared beneath the massive bird’s feet, lighting it on fire – and not in the controlled manner it would use to augment its own attacks.

            A moment later, Lumine came running from where the Consecrated Flying Serpent had fallen, the assorted gems on her clothes changing color from violet back to gold – and then one of the now-familiar boulders was falling on the Red Vulture, driving it to the ground.

            Lumine grabbed one of the Geo-and-Pyro crystals that appeared, and threw it to Cyno.  He broke it open with a quick burst of Electro, and waited for the expected shield to form before calling upon Hermanubis’s power and racing forward again.

            The vulture screeched again, and attempted to get up, but was swiftly silenced by a white blur dropping down on top of it, slamming a glowing green blade through its head.

            That just left the scorpion.

            The arachnid hissed furiously as Cyno seized it by the tail, just below the stinger, and threw it to the ground.  It tried to snap at him with its pincers, but then Dehya was suddenly there – no longer burning in her own Pyro – shoving her weapon into one of the enormous claws, then grabbing the other, holding it open with her bare hands.

            More lights fell, more voices spoke, as the Consecrated Scorpion was promptly skewered on two swords – shortly followed by a third, just for good measure.

***

            Hi Lord Idris!

            So, um, Miss Nilou and her friends have been going around the city, saying you’ve been fighting monsters in the Akasha so everyone who’s asleep can wake up.  And that there’s a lot of monsters, so you need people to help out by sending our prayers.

            And, um, I don’t really understand how that helps… but you helped me and my dad a lot before, so I wanted to help you, too.

            Um… I really hope this actually works.  The grown-ups didn’t know if it would be safe for me to wear the funny hat, so… Miss Nilou’s wearing the funny hat right now, and I’m talking to her.  One of the super-smart grown-ups said the hat listens to people’s thoughts, and it should hear Miss Nilou thinking about what I say…

            Is it listening?

            Yeah, it’s listening.  Keep going!

            Okay!

            So, um… I wanted to say, thanks for helping my dad when he couldn’t wake up, before.  And, um, sorry that he got really mad at you.  I thought I should say that, too… Dad’s not sure if he wants to talk to you, yet.  He’s scared that you’re still mad at him for being dumb, and yelling at you after you woke him up.

            He’s making a funny face right now, hehe.

            Oh, and, Dad said he was sorry to me, too.  For taking me with him to the scary place, and not waking up for so long.  And for saying he wanted to stay in the dream, and not realizing I wasn’t really there with him.

            I’m still a little mad that he couldn’t tell it was a fake me, but… I still love him, even if he did something dumb.

            So yeah, thanks for helping us.

            Good luck fighting the monsters!

***

            Lumine had fought many, many Hilichurls, over the course of her travels in Teyvat.  She had also seen many, many different Hilichurl settlements.

            Most of those settlements were of a size best described as a “camp”.  A few were maybe large enough to be considered a “village”.

            This group of Hilichurls was large enough to fill an entire Hilichurl city.

            “For crying – gah!”  Dehya swore, loudly, as she bashed a Hilichurl Berserker over the head with her claymore.  “For crying out loud, this is way too many ‘churls!”

            Lumine had to agree with that assessment of their present circumstances.  There was an absolutely ridiculous number of Hilichurls, in every variety imaginable, running around the area, all swinging fists and weapons and generally looking and sounding incredibly displeased.  There were Hilichurl archers, Hilichurls throwing Slimes, Hilichurls with shields of all different kinds.  There were Samachurls of every different element, Mitachurls with axes and shields, Stonehide and Frostarm and Thunderhelm Lawachurls…

            She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard so many voices shouting “YAH!” before.

            This called for some serious crowd control.

            Fortunately, with so many enemies crowded into such a small space, it was easy for Pyro to spread.  Basically every monster in sight was already on fire, and Alhaitham was raining down mirrors and energy blades and lasers everywhere, making sure things stayed on fire.

            Noticing water starting to ripple at her feet, Lumine quickly channeled Dendro, slamming a palmful of elemental energy into the ground.  The energy quickly coalesced, taking on the form of a lamp-like flower, which promptly expanded as Hydro erupted beneath it.

            She quickly located the Hydro Samachurl responsible for the attack, and sent it – and the two other Samachurls beside it – flying with a burst of Anemo, before it could start summoning rain.  It managed to whack her with its staff before getting blasted away, but the resulting bruise quickly faded as residual Anemo swirled around her, black particles drifting on the breeze.

            Electro flared nearby.  Lumine looked up just in time to see Cyno vaulting off of one of her meteors, claws flashing.  He came down on a burning Frostarm Lawachurl with a deafening CRACK, Pyro and Cryo spraying in all directions as Electro reacted with Dendro, Pyro, and the Lawachurl’s own Cryo aura.

            Slightly further away, Dehya set a Hilichurl’s wooden shield ablaze with a fiery punch, then lit the Hilichurl itself on fire with a second punch as it frantically swung the burning shield around.  The monster promptly dropped the disintegrating chunk of wood, and proceeded to run off in a panic; Lumine sprayed it with Dendro as it passed by, to hopefully let the Pyro spread a little bit further.

            The fight continued.  It was chaos.  There were Hilichurls running everywhere, Slimes and arrows and rocks flying, Samachurls conjuring all manner of annoying elemental constructs.  A Mitachurl that had evidently been relieved of its shield came charging by; Lumine dropped a meteorite in its path as she dodged, leaving the monster to barrel face-first into the unexpected obstacle as she turned to deal with the Berserker at her back.

            Or… the ten Berserkers at her back.

            Where did all of you come from?!

            She backpedaled as quickly as she could manage, as flaming clubs swung at her from seemingly every direction at once.  More Hilichurls were already running in from further away, and she noticed a Thunderhelm Lawachurl starting to lumber towards her as well.

            Things had suddenly gotten very, very bad.

            She glanced around, only for her stomach to drop as she saw that Cyno and Dehya were both occupied – the former with a group of Hilichurl Shooters, the latter with three Mitachurls.  Lumine didn’t see Alhaitham anywhere, but three Lawachurls were crowded around something a bit further away.  Judging from the amount of Dendro being released in that general area, they’d decided to gang up on the most obvious threat; they didn’t actually seem to be doing so well, in that regard, but Alhaitham likely didn’t have much attention to spare at the moment, either, based on the relative lack of Dendro anywhere else.

            Lumine’s attention was suddenly drawn by a splash of water on her face.  She looked up to see another Hydro Samachurl dancing in the distance, and a raincloud forming above her.

            That was… not the worst thing that could be happening right now, actually.

            She threw a hand forward, spraying Dendro on as many of the enemies around her as she could.  A few caught fire as a Berserker’s club passed a little too close.

            She quickly channeled Anemo, drawing in the Pyro, just as rain began to fall.

            She braced herself.

            This is going to hurt… but it could be worse.

            Hydro and Dendro reacted.

            There was a thunderous BANG, as the faintly-glowing, fruit-like cores that formed ignited – and immediately exploded.

            Lumine jumped away as quickly as she could, before the still-approaching enemies could surround her again.  Residual Dendro burned, but the chain reaction had done what she’d needed it to; the large, smoke-like cloud rising from where she’d been standing a moment ago told her the explosion had done far more damage to the mob than to her.

            Thankfully, the others seemed to have already taken care of their problems, too.  Dehya was now fighting the Electro Lawachurl Lumine had seen earlier, while Cyno was dealing with various other monsters that were around.  There was Dendro flying everywhere.

            Lumine started to take a step forward, to rejoin the fight, only to stumble as pain flared.  That explosion had hurt her worse than she’d thought, apparently.

            A voice suddenly drew her attention.  “Lumine!”

            She turned, to see a Hilichurl flying in her direction – unarmed, and already starting to shed black particles.

            Somehow, she instinctively knew what she was being told to do.

            She caught the Hilichurl in a swirl of Anemo, the spiraling vortex reducing the monster to fragmented data in an instant.

            The voice spoke again, behind her, as the pain faded, the lingering breeze carrying away the Dendro that had still clung to her.  “Are you alright?”

            She took a deep breath, turned, and nodded.  “Yeah.  Thanks.”

            “No need.”

            The lights were still falling.  Voices continued to speak, as each light crossed the “sky”, and vanished.  Most of the voices were unfamiliar, but Lumine recognized a few.

            One familiar voice began to talk.

            And talk.

            And talk.

***

            Uh… so do I just talk, now…?

            Alright, got it.  Uh…

            Hello, Lord Idris.  I’m… well, I guess this isn’t really the time for introductions.  You’ve probably got way more important things to focus on right now, hah.

            Anyway, uh… I don’t really have anything too specific to say, I guess.  But it didn’t feel right to just… say nothing, either, with what’s been going on these past few days.  And with how much of a mess you’ve had to clean up, these past few months.

            So I guess I’ll just say… good luck, with everything that’s going on right now.  And take care of yourself.  There are a lot of people waiting for you back here, you know.

            So come back safely, alright?

***

            … ready?

            Hello, it’s me again.  So, uh, I figured, since it doesn’t seem like there’s really a limit on how many of these things we can make, it couldn’t hurt for me to send an extra.  I don’t know if one person sending two messages will make a difference, but…

            … ah, I guess this was a bit silly of me.  I already didn’t have much of anything to say the first time; figures I wouldn’t have anything new to say so soon after that, huh?

            Well, that’s okay.  Again, I doubt this will hurt anyone, either.

            Anyway, take care!

***

            Hey, so uh… yeah.  I’m back, again.  But, uh, this time I’m talking for someone else!  Their friend said they’d probably really like to send you one of these messages, if they could, but… they’re asleep.  Kind of an obvious problem there, hah.

            I mean… I don’t actually know that this will count for anything, but… it can’t hurt, right?

            Anyway, uh…

            Is there anything specific…?

            Uh, well, guess this is just going to be more of the same.  Though… the idea here is that gods gain power from their people’s faith, right?  So our feelings are probably more important than anything we actually say.

            Huh.  In that case, maybe this is actually kind of helpful.

            So anyway, good luck, and stay safe!

***

            Hey.  It’s me.  Again.  I hope you’re not getting tired of hearing me talk, heh…

            So, uh, I’m talking for someone else this time, again.  They’re not in the city right now, apparently; they’re away for work.

            It’s kind of funny, actually.  I was away for work myself, until just a few days ago; missed the whole, uh… whatever it was that happened, as a result.  Something about someone trying to set up another dream in the Akasha?  You’d think people would learn, at some point…

            Also, this seems to keep happening, for some reason.  Every time I leave town for work, something else seems to go wrong…

            Anyway, not much to say this time, either.  Not much new, at least.

            Again, take care of yourself.  Everyone’s still waiting for you.

***

            Alright, so… one last message from me, haha.  It kind of just occurred to me that I should probably let someone else use this thing…

            Eh… sorry about that.  Hopefully I didn’t make things harder for you…

            Well anyway, I’ll keep this one short, so someone else can have a turn to talk.  There was just one other person I wanted to send a message for.  My roommate seems to respect you quite a bit, but that stubborn blockhead seems to have gone missing these past few days…

***

            Alhaitham barely managed not to fall flat on his face as the familiar voice trailed off.

            Behind him, Cyno made a noise like he was choking on laughter.  Lumine was making a strange face as well; she seemed to shake a little, even as she dropped another meteorite on some nearby Samachurls.

            Dehya looked up from a now-disintegrating Lawachurl, and glanced between them, seeming confused.  “What’s so funny?”

            Huh?  What are you laughing at, Tighnari?  Did I say something strange?

            Are you sure?

            Alright, if you say so…

            Alhaitham didn’t respond to Dehya’s question.  That was partly because he was too busy putting a mirror through a Hilichurl Shooter that had been aiming at him… and partly because he was too busy shaking with his own barely-suppressed laughter.

            Dehya made an even more confused-looking expression, which only made his laughter harder to contain.  “Guys, what are you all laughing at?  Is there something on my face?”

            Lumine put a hand on the mercenary’s shoulder, still shaking.  “No, don’t worry about it.  Someone will explain… eventually.  Probably.”

            (… Kaveh had never been good at keeping that particular secret, anyway.)

***

            “… and that’s the last one!”

            Nilou watched Sage Naphis take the last Knowledge Capsule from Paimon, and insert it into the machine.  He pressed a few buttons, then waited; a few seconds later, the now-familiar message appeared on the screen.

            Upload successful.

            The Sage removed the capsule from its slot and set it in the nearby box labeled “Used”, then took a deep breath.  “And now, we wait,” he said, quietly.

            Nilou nodded, forcing down the urge to fidget with her hair.

            They’d done what they could, for now.

            The rest was up to those in the Akasha.

            Please come back.  Please be safe.

            The final words of her own message echoed in her mind.

            We believe in you.

***

            (Ninety-nine point nine nine percent complete.  Zero point zero one percent remaining.)

            The air around them swirled as Lumine spun, then kicked a spiraling column of Anemo at a nearby Hydro Abyss Mage, and the flood of other Abyss Mages that seemed to be pouring out of this last uncleared section of the Akasha behind it.  The tornado quickly turned blue as it drew in elemental energy from the Hydro Mage’s shield.

             Alhaitham waited a few seconds, as the cyclone tore its way through the horde, before conjuring several mirrors to start spreading Dendro through the monsters that remained.

            (There was no sense wasting time and energy on enemies that would have gone down to the tornado anyway.)

            Pyro, Hydro, and Electro Mages started dropping like flies, as Hydro and Dendro ripped their shields apart.  Glowing green cores began to appear as residual elemental energy coalesced.

            Dehya flew by, leaping into the crowd, then away again as Pyro flared from the ground.  The flames spread quickly; the air was soon filled with the sounds of explosions, as cores caught fire and detonated – then more explosions, as Cyno charged in, Electro blazing.

            Alhaitham glanced around, scanning the crowd for any Mages still in their shields.  There weren’t many; basically all of the Hydro and Electro Mages were already down, and Cryo Mages were dropping quickly now, too, courtesy of Dehya’s Pyro.  Some Pyro Mages that hadn’t been caught by Lumine’s improvised waterspout were still up, but Cyno was already busy with them; Lumine dropped a meteorite onto a burning Mage, threw the General Mahamatra one of the Geo-and-Pyro crystals that formed, then started helping him with his task, the glowing jewels on her clothing shifting from gold to violet.

            Seeing that the Mages were just about dealt with, Alhaitham turned his attention on the other remaining problem, near back of the mob – four tall, vaguely human-like monsters, in dark robes and armor.

            Abyss Heralds and Lectors.

            The stronger Abyss monsters had already taken a fair amount of damage, it seemed; the Heralds had already conjured their elemental barriers, and the Lectors were beginning to do the same.  Being surrounded by fire and explosions was clearly doing a number on them.

            The Hydro Herald summoned its energy blades, and prepared to attack – but Alhaitham didn’t give it the chance.  He sped behind it and impaled it on a glowing sword, Dendro cutting through its shield like a hot knife through butter.  The Electro Lector didn’t last much longer; a barrage of lasers tore its barrier to shreds, before it could even react.

            The other two… were somewhat less cooperative.

            Alhaitham pulled back as the Cryo Herald slashed at him.  He knew Dendro would have little effect on its barrier, as well as that of the Pyro Lector; he could eventually take them down with brute force – he’d already dealt with a few others of their kind in that manner, simply out of necessity – but that would require no small amount of effort, and the monsters were certainly not going to just stand there and take it.

            Fortunately, he had other options, now.

            Alhaitham launched several mirrors at the Lector as a distraction – even with its shield, getting stabbed by one of those would hurt – before generating three more mirrors to rain energy blades upon the Herald.  The barrage didn’t do much damage, but Dendro clung to the monster’s body as projectiles splashed against its shield.

            He could already see the telltale glow of fire, not far away, as he dodged another slash.

            Pyro flashed, as Dehya crashed into the Herald with a flying kick.  Dendro ignited.

            The monster was swiftly engulfed in flames.

            A short distance away, the Pyro Lector staggered as two massive clawed hands slammed into it from behind, grabbing onto its shoulders.  There was another burst of Electro, a bit further away, and then lightning bolts were raining down on both remaining enemies.

            The Cryo Herald stood, and turned to face the one who’d kicked it – only for a spinning violet blade to suddenly plant itself in the monster’s chest.  There was a loud BANG as Electro, Cryo, Pyro, and Dendro reacted.

            The Herald shuddered, then toppled over backwards.  Its body never hit the ground.

            Meanwhile, Cyno was still wrestling with the Pyro Lector.  Continuous explosions roared as he poured Electro into the monster’s barrier; fortunately, he had a shield of his own to protect against the backlash.

            Finally, he raised one clawed hand, and brought it down, hard, on the back of the Lector’s head.  A lightning bolt struck the monster an instant later.

            There was a CRACK, and a massive shockwave.  A flicker of Geo and Pyro, as Cyno’s shield cracked, then broke.

            The Lector fell to its knees.

            Cyno released his grip on the monster, as it dissolved into data.

            Silence.

            [One hundred percent complete.  Zero percent remaining.]

            [Scanning…]

            [Scan complete.  No errors found.]

***

            Nilou looked up, as she suddenly heard a quiet beep.

            The Sages were each holding a hand to their Akasha Terminals, looking surprised.

            Finally, after a few seconds, Sage Naphis looked up as well.

            “That was the Archon.  The Akasha is clear.”

***

            [Reenable data output? (Yes/No)]

            [Yes]

            [Stop auto-denying connection requests? (Yes/No)]

            [Yes]

            [Prompt active users to connect? (Yes/No)]

            [Yes]

            Alhaitham watched, as connection requests started flowing in.

            He waited, as the Akasha started processing said requests.

            Then, when the stream of requests finally started to slow down, he called up the Akasha’s communications function.

            [Send message to: All users]

            [System clear.  Will initiate data recall shortly.]

            [Return unfiled data to source users? (Yes/No)]

            [Yes]

            He watched, as packets of loose data started flowing back out of the Akasha.

            Seeing no problems, he dismissed the Akasha’s holographic display, and looked back up at… the others.

            The others, who weren’t returning yet, because their consciousnesses weren’t associated with any “source users”, right now.  Because they hadn’t come through their Akasha Terminals.

            Because their Akasha Terminals hadn’t been able to connect… but they’d gone and found a way in, regardless.

            Dehya grinned at him.  “So, is everything good, now?”

            Alhaitham paused, then nodded.  “Yes.  All of the consciousnesses that were… forcibly uploaded… are now being returned to their bodies.”

            “‘Forcibly’,” Cyno noted.

            “… yes.  That does not include the three of you, who consented to being uploaded.”

            Cyno smirked at that.  “I see.  I suppose we’ll just have to return on our own, then.”

            Alhaitham paused again, calling the hologram back up for a second, before responding.  “I will make sure you all return properly, in a moment.  You are all connected, so there should be no problems with actually returning, but I would rather not have to deal with anyone accidentally returning to the wrong body.”

            “A reasonable concern.  We’ll leave that to you, then.”

            Dehya snickered.  “Yeah, it’d be bad if we got switched around, huh?  It’d probably be pretty confusing…”

            Alhaitham gave them both a flat look.

            (They were being far too casual about this.)

            Dehya laughed as she saw his expression.  “Oh, lighten up.  We knew it’d be okay… and don’t act like you wouldn’t have come up with something equally crazy, Mr. Strategist.”

            “… you’re all idiots.”

            “Oh, please.  Didn’t I just say you’d have – ”

            “I didn’t deny anything.”

            Dehya blinked.  She opened her mouth as if to respond, paused, then closed it again.

            Cyno didn’t quite turn away in time to hide the amused look on his face.

            Alhaitham took the opportunity that had presented itself.

            [Locating users…]

            [Users found.]

            [Initiating data transfer.]

            Cyno paused, then turned back around, as he and Dehya began to turn transparent.  “I suppose that’s the end of this conversation, then.”

            “I see no need to discuss this further.  No need urgent enough to require delaying your return, anyway.”

            “Alright, we get it,” Dehya said with another laugh.  “See you in the real world!”

            “… alright.  See ya.”

            A moment later, they both vanished.

            Alhaitham turned to the only other person still remaining in the Akasha.

            “To be honest, I’m not sure why I was surprised that you managed to find a way in.  You seem to have… a talent… for getting in and out of… strange situations.”

            Lumine seemed to stifle a laugh.  “I think… that might actually be an understatement.”  She paused.  “I wouldn’t say it’s a bad thing, though.  And I don’t think I’d really try to stay out of things, if this all happened again… even if it does get a little tiring, sometimes.”

            (… he didn’t know if he could say the same… but this certainly wasn’t the worst possible outcome, all things considered.  So maybe he would do it again, too.)

            “Anyway, I’m glad we were able to help you.  And… I’m glad you’re doing better, now, after… everything.”

            (… he was glad, too.)

            [Locating user…]

            [User found.]

            [Initiating data transfer.]

            Slowly, Lumine began to fade, as well.

            She smiled as she slowly disappeared.  “See you back outside, Alhaitham.”

            Alhaitham paused, then nodded.  “See ya.”

            She vanished, glowing green particles drifting silently away.

            Finally, the Akasha was empty, except for him.

            As it should be.

            Alhaitham took a deep breath, then ran a quick search, double-checking that there really was no one else left inside.

            Finding no one, he looked up, at the Akasha’s “sky”.  It was still, now; the falling lights, and the voices that had accompanied them, had evidently stopped, at some point.

            The Akasha was silent.

            (He was finally done.)

            [Exit? (Yes/No)]

            [Yes]

***

            Alhaitham blinked, as he found himself back in the Sanctuary of Surasthana, once again standing before the central pedestal.

            It was… still a little hard to believe, that it had been five days, since he’d last been here.

            He paused, then called up the Akasha again, just to be sure.

            There was no more loose data floating around, corrupted or otherwise.

            A few messages had started to trickle in, from the Sages.  Status updates, it looked like; nothing seemed to be urgent, so he could probably leave those for later.

            (For now…)

            He was… tired, again, suddenly.  That… wasn’t too surprising, actually; he had just spent five days fighting his way through a seemingly-endless flood of monsters, after all.

            He checked the time.  It was a little past three in the afternoon.

            It had been most of a week.  He probably had a ridiculous amount of paperwork to catch up on, especially with what had been going on these past few days.  The day wasn’t over, yet.

            (He should probably… get back to work…)

            Alhaitham vaguely registered his legs trying to give way, beneath him.

            He let them.

            The world slowly went dark, as he fell.

            (He was… finally done.)

Chapter Text

            …

            … wake up…

            …

***

            Alhaitham opened his eyes to the familiar green ceiling.

            It took him a few moments to remember where he was, and what he’d been doing.

            (How long had he been asleep?  He wasn’t sure.)

            Alhaitham blinked a few times, then raised a hand to wipe the sleep from his eyes.  He was feeling… well, actually.  Though he no longer needed regular sleep, it had been some time since he’d felt properly rested, between the amount of work he’d been keeping up with, and the problems he’d been having with the Gnosis.

            Speaking of which, he was surprised the Gnosis hadn’t woken him up.  It was… almost strange, to be awake, and not feel the phantom heat of Dendro radiating from his –

            His thoughts abruptly stopped in their tracks, as he suddenly registered the color of the fabric covering his hand.

            Black.

            (He was still wearing the Archon’s cloak.)

            Alhaitham sat bolt upright, the fog of sleep clearing from his mind in an instant.

            He looked around… and exhaled, as he saw that he was on the far side of the Sanctuary of Surasthana’s central pedestal from the doors.

            (Good.  No one casually looking into the Sanctuary from the doors would have seen him.  Though… how had he gotten to this side…?)

            Alhaitham paused, blinking again, as he caught a flash of something white in the corner of his eye – a sharp contrast, from all the green.  He turned, to see a folded sheet of paper sitting on the central platform.

            A note.

Alhaitham,

            Good morning!  Or… whatever time it is, when you see this.  We hope you slept well.

            This note is being written approximately three hours after you unsealed the Akasha.  We assume you’ll probably want to know a few things, when you wake up.

            You were last seen as yourself in the Grand Sage’s office, when Cyno informed you of the situation in the Akasha.  No one who doesn’t already know has been in there since.

            As of this note’s writing, there have been no urgent problems with anyone returning from the Akasha, or the Akasha itself.  You will receive a full report later.

            The Sages have been keeping things running while you’ve been out.  Call for them when you’re ready to receive their reports.

            We will update/replace this note if anything else comes up while you’re still asleep.

            See you later!

Lumine, Paimon, Cyno, Dehya, Nilou

            Alhaitham exhaled again as he finished reading.

            (The others must have come looking for him, when he didn’t show up after everyone had left the Akasha.  They must also have moved him out of sight.)

            He stood up, stretching, and frowned as he caught sight of his clothes.  The Archon’s cloak would need to be cleaned and repaired… assuming that was even possible at this point, of course.  There were some bloodstains that might very well have already set, and the fabric had been ripped and torn in several places.

            (He’d also have to figure out where to deal with those things.  Maybe he’d ask where Lumine had gotten the cloak altered, originally…)

            His other clothing… well, he’d have to change out of everything, that much was certain.  His shirt and gloves were probably not worth the effort to try and salvage, though everything else just needed to be cleaned.  He had spares of everything, fortunately.

            Of course, that meant he’d have to get home unseen.  Hopefully Kaveh was out…

            Alhaitham sighed.

            Being Archon sure was a pain.

            (Well, there was no point standing around grumbling about it.  His to-do list wasn’t going to clear itself.)

            With another sigh, Alhaitham de-summoned the Archon’s cloak, then sped out the still-unsealed entrance to the ex-Sages’ deserted workshop in a flash of Dendro.

            (At least the logistics of keeping his “mortal” identity secret were less troublesome than idiot scholars sticking their fingers where they didn’t belong.)

***

            Fortunately, Kaveh was indeed out of the house.  Also fortunately, Alhaitham had gotten in the habit of leaving his bedroom’s curtains open when he himself left the house, just in case.  That, at least, made it easier to return home unnoticed.

            The house remained silent, thankfully, as he washed, changed into a clean set of clothes, and retrieved the various personal effects he’d dismissed for his Archon disguise.  He considered stopping by the kitchen for something to eat, but thought better of it; the last thing he needed was to get caught unawares by his roommate returning unexpectedly.

            Upon returning to the Grand Sage’s office, Alhaitham found that someone had closed the security shutters on the office’s windows; the skylight, however, remained helpfully uncovered.  He dropped through the colored glass, into the mostly-darkened room.

            He took a moment to open the shutters – he seemed to have developed a preference for natural light at some point since his ascension, which he was beginning to suspect had something to do with the associated changes to his powers – before checking his desk for all the paperwork that had undoubtedly piled up in his absence.

            Surprisingly… there was actually a lot less work waiting for him than he’d expected.

            (He recalled the others’ note, and their mention of the Sages keeping things running in his place.  Had they been handling the paperwork, too?)

            There were a few… unusual items, apparently waiting for him, though.  An empty mug, a bottle of water, what appeared to be… some kind of portable stove?  And a small jar, containing a very familiar brown powder.

            (He wasn’t sure how useful it was to him, now… but he did still like the taste and smell.)

            Alhaitham set up the stove – it floated, somehow, which was convenient – off to one side of his desk, far enough away that it wouldn’t set anything on fire, and left the water to boil while he started flipping through the single stack of paperwork that had been left for him to deal with.  The first document on the pile was, conveniently, a summary of what he’d missed while he was in the Akasha, then asleep; from the listed dates, he’d been away for eight days, in total.

            (He’d slept for three days, then.  That was… not surprising, exactly, in light of everything that had happened… but it was still a little hard to believe, that he hadn’t been woken up sooner.)

            It was… quiet, as he read.  He could hear some birds singing outside, and, very faintly, the rustling of leaves, but other than that, the only sounds were of the water being heated nearby, and the paper in his hands.

            Aside from the stove, the only source of heat – real or otherwise – was the sun, shining through stained glass.

            (It was almost like just being the Scribe again.)

***

            The next few days passed uneventfully.

            Lumine and Paimon showed up at the usual time, the day after he woke up, to report on a few minor events that had occurred in the days since he’d last seen them.  There was nothing of too much significance – someone had found a Whopperflower hiding in their rose fields; there’d been an incident of academic dishonesty involving a traveling student, her mentor, and a number of foreigners; and there were signs of some odd goings-on in the northern parts of the desert, but those matters really just needed an eye kept on them, for now.

            (Lumine also took the Archon’s cloak with her when she and Paimon left, and returned it the next day.  He’d have to figure out how to handle cleaning and repairs on his own eventually – it’d be easier, if not for a certain architect – but the help was appreciated, for now.)

            A junior Matra dropped off that week’s regular Matra activity report; the higher-ranking members and officers, including Cyno, were apparently still busy hunting down all of Beynuni’s co-conspirators, which was understandable.  Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be any other cases of particular note, at least for now.

            Not everything was so simple, of course.  There was obviously a lot of cleanup work to be done, in the wake of the corrupted dream incident – and not only for the Matra.  The number of casualties was thankfully low – the final count was looking to be somewhere in the low-to-mid double digits – but not zero, and there was obviously the question of how to prevent such incidents from happening again in the future.  There was also the ongoing matter of dealing with all the… evidence, that remained… in circulation; a few ideas had been suggested, with regards to that topic, but nothing had been decided, yet.

            (Unethical human experimentation was always a pain to clean up after, even when there weren’t long-term consequences to deal with.  However this ultimately got dealt with, Beynuni was absolutely going to pay for it.)

            There were other things on the horizon, now, too.  The selection process for new Sages was finally approaching its end, nearly two months after it had begun; the new – permanent – Grand Sage would then have to be chosen, once that was finally settled.  The literacy and math skills courses were picking up steam, in the wake of the second Akasha shutdown; enrollment rates had shot up in the last couple of days, and still seemed to be increasing.  This was a good thing, of course, but the situation would need to be monitored, in case more classes – and, by extension, staff – were needed to keep up with the growing number of students.

            The Akademiya Extravaganza – which included the Interdarshan Championship, this year – was coming up in a couple of months.  Fortunately, there was a dedicated planning committee for that event, which had already made most of the necessary preparations on its own.  The event would likely not even be delayed by all the recent chaos, which was greatly appreciated.

            (The fewer things he had to explain to the public, the better.)

            Other than that, though, things were… quiet.  There really wasn’t all that much going on, for the moment.

            Alhaitham was… almost unsure what to make of the situation, after everything.  After the events that had led to his sudden, unwanted ascension, the general chaos of the first two months, and everything that had happened since Coronation Day…

            It was… strange, for things to be so calm.

            But not in a bad way.

            The days passed quietly.  He was still working much longer hours than he would like – though there wasn’t much news, there was still more than enough mundane work to keep up with – but it wasn’t nearly as exhausting, now, as it was before.  Meetings came and went; paperwork flowed in and out.  He went home at night, argued with Kaveh, slept (he’d almost forgotten what it was like, to not fear sleep), and returned in the morning, to start the cycle over again.

            The Gnosis remained silent.

***

            One week after the corrupted dream incident had been resolved, Lumine and Paimon brought an… unusual item, with their usual daily report.  An invitation to… a celebration of some sort, in the Grand Bazaar.

            “Nilou asked us to give this to you!” Paimon said, cheerfully.  “She said she sent one a few days ago, but it doesn’t seem like you ever got it; Paimon guesses it must’ve gotten lost in the mail, or something…”

            (… it might have been sent to his old office, depending on how it had been addressed; he cleared the submissions rack every morning, but generally only checked the mailbox once every few days, given the very obvious sign over the mail slot indicating that the office was not in use.  Some people seemed oddly determined to ignore that sign, though… and to keep forgetting what his current title was, if it wasn’t written out on whatever was being sent to him.)

            “Anyway,” Paimon continued, “everyone’s getting together to celebrate everyone finally coming back from the Akasha safely, now that things are starting to look okay again.  Cyno and Dehya are coming, Nilou and some of her friends are putting on a show, and there’s going to be lots of tasty food!  The party’s tonight, so don’t forget!”

            Alhaitham paused, looking back down at the invitation.  He was… a little surprised, that Nilou had apparently gone out of her way to resend the message – through a channel that was all but guaranteed to reach him – when her first attempt had gotten no response.

            Most people… would probably not have bothered.

            (He probably did actually have time, that night.  He didn’t really have any urgent matters to deal with, and he’d actually been mostly keeping up with the endless flow of paperwork, these past few days.  But…)

            He stared at the invitation for another moment before responding.

            “I’ll think about it.”

***

            “Hi everyone, sorry we’re late!”

            Nilou looked up, smiling brightly as she saw them approaching.  “Hello Lumine, Paimon!  You’re actually right on time – the food just arrived!”

            Paimon’s eyes lit up, at that piece of information.  “Really?  Great!  Paimon’s starving!”

            Lumine stifled a laugh as the fairy immediately made a beeline for the table where all the food had been set out, before turning to the others.  “Hello Nilou, Cyno, Dehya.  How have all of you been, these past few days?”

            “Busy, but well,” Cyno said with a nod.  “The Matra have finally managed to track down everyone involved in the recent incident; interrogations are proceeding slowly, since we’re still understaffed, but we’re making steady progress.”

            “Of course you’d immediately talk about work,” Dehya said with a laugh.  “Though, that whole mess was a pretty big deal, so I can’t really blame you too much for thinking about it…”

            “It’s occupied most of my time since I returned to Sumeru,” Cyno admitted.  “I’m afraid there hasn’t been much else on my mind, as a result.”

            “Yeah, that’s fair.  But hey, speaking of returning to Sumeru, how was Mondstadt?  You were there for some kind of festival, right?”

            “The Windblume Festival, yes, and also to visit some friends.  I also met a famous artist, and commissioned…”

            Lumine smiled, then turned back to Nilou as Cyno continued talking; she had stopped by Mondstadt a few times herself, while he had been there with Tighnari and Collei, so she already knew what he was now telling Dehya about.  “How about you, Nilou?  You mentioned a few of your friends had been trapped in the Akasha…”

            Nilou nodded.  “Yeah, Hushang and Inayah.  But they both made it back okay!  They’re not here right now – Hushang’s busy with some stuff, and Inayah’s working on some props – but they’ll both be here for the show, later!”

            “That’s good.  And you’re doing alright, too?”

            “Yeah.  All my friends are safe, we’ve got a great show planned, the party’s going well… so everything’s great, for me!”

            Lumine smiled again.  “That’s good to hear.”  She paused, looking around for a moment.  “Though, speaking of the party… has Alhaitham…?”

            Nilou’s face fell, just a little.  “No, he hasn’t shown up yet.  Maybe he’s too busy…”

            “Maybe… He did only get the invitation today.  He might not have been able to fit this into his schedule, on such short notice…”

            “Yeah…”  Nilou’s expression brightened again, after a moment.  “That’s okay, though.  His work is really important… and, well, I know he also doesn’t like crowds very much.  I’ll just bring him some food tomorrow, if he doesn’t come tonight.”

            “Good idea.  So, when does the show begin…?”

            The next hour or so went by quickly.  Everyone was in high spirits; though Sumeru was still cleaning up the aftermath of the recent incident, and the incident itself had not been without casualties, the general consensus was that things could have gone far worse than they ultimately had.  Nilou and Dehya were also quite interested to hear about Cyno’s still-recent vacation, and Paimon was of course very interested in the food.

            It had been a long time, since they’d all been able to… relax, to this extent.  Since there hadn’t been some problem or other that urgently needed to be dealt with, or cleaned up after, in the fallout of… everything, that had happened.  Of the sudden power transition, all that had led to it, and all that had followed.

            Lumine smiled as she poured herself another glass of fruit juice – there was wine, but she didn’t feel like starting that argument right now, even if enough of those present did know how old she really was.  She stifled some more laughter as Cyno launched into another explanation of Genius Invokation TCG deckbuilding theory; he’d pulled out his deck at some point, to show off the custom card backs he’d commissioned from Albedo, one topic had led to another, and he was now attempting to teach Dehya how to play.  The mercenary was having an… unusual… amount of trouble keeping the rules and mechanics straight, though; judging from the look of amusement that briefly flashed across her face – which Cyno missed, busy as he was explaining the concept of dice fixing – she was most likely just messing with him, at this point.  Nilou was also covering her mouth, and shaking a little, suggesting she’d come to a similar conclusion.

            Lumine smiled again as Dehya asked to be reminded how to read a card’s dice cost, then glanced over the food table, to make sure Paimon wasn’t eating literally everything.  Seeing the fairy flying away, with a not-unreasonably-full plate, Lumine started to turn back – but stopped, as she caught a flash of something gray in the corner of her eye.

            She turned in the direction of that something… and blinked, as her eyes fell on the tall figure standing by the wall, several meters away, barely visible in the shadows of the somewhat dimly-lit Grand Bazaar.

            Alhaitham.

            Lumine paused, wondering if she should maybe say something… then blinked again, as the unusual eyes seemed to focus on her.

            A voice suddenly spoke in her mind.

            [Don’t mind me.]

            Lumine blinked, again.  Was that…?

            Alhaitham seemed to pause, as if he’d heard her silent question.  His eyes flicked to the ground, briefly, and then he held up a hand for a moment, before lowering it again.

            His voice spoke again.

            [I’m alright.  Don’t let me disturb you.]

            Lumine hesitated for a moment, before waving back, silently.

            He does dislike attention, and crowds.  He’s… probably more comfortable watching from a distance, than he would be standing any closer.

            … it made her a little sad, to see the Archon standing alone in a corner, after everything that had happened… but she would respect his decision.

            She turned back around, and started walking over to the others, to join their conversation.

            Nilou turned to her as she approached, and smiled.  “Hi Lumine!  Are you still – ”

            Bright blue eyes flicked upwards for a moment… then blinked, and looked up again.

            “… wait, is that…?”

            Lumine blinked, as she realized what the dancer had just seen.  “Ah – Nilou, hang on – ”

            It was too late.  Nilou ran past her, blue eyes shining like water in the sun.

***

            Alhaitham hadn’t actually planned to go to the Grand Bazaar that night.

            That wasn’t to say he hadn’t wanted to go, exactly.  It was more that… he wasn’t sure if he really should.

            While Nilou didn’t seem like the kind of person who would send him an invitation just to be polite, and Lumine and Paimon probably considered him a friend at this point… it was hard to say how much any of the other guests would appreciate his presence.

            (Cyno and Dehya had followed him into the Akasha, too, but he couldn’t be sure if that hadn’t been a “group project” sort of situation; if they hadn’t helped him simply out of necessity.  He didn’t know what Nilou’s friends thought of him, either… but he did have a reputation, so he probably had a pretty good guess.)

            He’d decided not to go, just to be safe.  Nilou would probably be disappointed, but he could apologize to her later.

            There was no need to bring down everybody’s mood with an unwanted guest.

            He didn’t care what anybody thought of him, of course… but that didn’t mean he liked being around people who thought negatively of him.

            (There was also the matter of the Gnosis – his Archon identity wouldn’t protect him from those who already knew who he was.)

            And so, he’d put the invitation out of his mind.  There was no need to dwell on a question he’d already answered, after all; he had more than enough other things requiring his attention.

            Soon enough, he’d forgotten all about the celebration.

            The day had gone by uneventfully, just like every other day since he’d woken up after the corrupted dream incident.  He’d taken reports, sat through meetings, and processed an absolutely ridiculous amount of paperwork.

            The hours had ticked by, until finally, the Akademiya’s day was over.

            Technically, that didn’t mean Alhaitham’s day was over.  The (Acting) Grand Sage didn’t really have set hours, and the Archon’s day never ended.  There wouldn’t be any more meetings or new reports until the next morning, of course, but there was always more paperwork – project proposals and event plans to review, spending reports to analyze, a thousand different major and minor documents to be filed and archived…

            Alhaitham had stared at the seemingly-endless mountains of paper covering his desk for a few minutes… and finally decided that he’d had enough for the day.

            He didn’t mind the quiet monotony of working a desk job, and (physical) exhaustion was no more a danger to him now than it had ever been, since his ascension… but there was only so much any person – mortal or otherwise – could take.

            (That being said, endless paperwork was at least preferable to dealing with the nonsense idiot scholars got up to when they were bored or desperate – or worse, both.)

            Alhaitham had figured it wasn’t a bad night to unwind, a little.  It had been a while since he’d been able to do much of anything after work; with the long hours he’d been working since the… sudden change in administration, four months ago, he simply hadn’t had time for anything beyond necessary errands.  And with the near-constant pain and exhaustion of the last month, he hadn’t had the energy to spare, either.  It probably wouldn’t be long before he was too busy to do anything again, so he’d figured he’d make the most of his free time, while he still had some.

            Life had clearly had other plans, though.

            It seemed that everyone had apparently decided to celebrate some thing or another, that night.  Lambad’s Tavern had seemed like it was going to explode, between the sheer number of people crowded inside, and the amount of noise they were making; Alhaitham hadn’t even been able to get through the door… not that he’d really wanted to, with how unbelievably loud it was.  Puspa Café hadn’t been much better, despite its evening clientele normally consisting mostly of students studying and working on projects, and every other place he’d checked had been just as crowded, if not worse.

            Fate had definitely been laughing at him.