The whole house was quiet. The dishes were washed after dinner, the lights were off. It was the perfect routine for the Grand Scribe. He was off to bed every night at 10 p.m., after cleaning up the whole house. Everything was quiet and dark.
Except one room, where a weak light was still flickering over the scribbled blueprints. Grunts of frustration would be heard from that room from time to time.
Another sleepless night.
Kaveh was leaning over his desk, working. Again. When was the last time he slept the normal amount? He would love to turn the lights off, and go to bed. But he can't. Not now.
He is frustrated. Why does everything go wrong these days? Why did the ink spilled on the first blueprint, and had to start over? Why did he messed up the second one?
And, worst of all, why no line looks right on this one?
He sighed, and gripped the pen tighter in frustration. He looked over at the sketches. The client said it was perfect, but needed more "extravagance"... What did he mean by that? Wasn't it fancy enough?
He leaned back on his chair, defeated. It was no point in drawing today, he wasn't in shape at all. He put the pen down, near to a photo frame.
It was the last photo he had of his parents ... His mom wasn't dead, but she left him and his dad to remarry is Fontaine. Kaveh can't even remember how many times he asked his dad "Why did she leave us? Was I not good enough?"... He hated that, he hated seeing his dad suffer for what he thought it was his fault.
If only he hadn't asked his dad to participate in the competition...
He hates the photo, it reminds him of how his young days were... But he can't throw it away, no matter what he does. He wants to keep it close... As close as he can.
Would things be different, if he had won the crown and estate? Would he, Kaveh, be there, in Al Haithams house, working countless nights to pay off debts?
Would had everything go downhill if this never happened?
No. He can't blame his mom for his actions. It is his fault, for spending all his money of the Palace of Alcarazay. His fault for spending so much on drinks and charity. His fault for not being able to make back the money he spends. His fault for making his dad participate in the competition... leading to his change in attitude and... death.
What if... he never spoke to his now roommate in the first place...? What if now, he would be living at Tighnari... or Faruzan? Would have he even had to pay rent as well?
Would he feel unappreciated somewhere else? Unwanted?
What... happened? Between those two. Not even they know... The fight was years ago, but still both of them hold a grudge against eachother... Maybe that's why they are always bickering, they feel like they haven't got over it... Like there is still something that needed to be said.
But neither of then can find that thing.
But.. both of them hoped that everything was a misunderstanding, that they can be friends again.
Was it Kaveh's jealousy against his friends success? Or Al Haitham's direct thinking, when he says what he has on his mind, not realizing this might hurt the other...
Kaveh slightly banged his head against the table... His thoughts were trailing off again. He shouldn't care about that fight anymore, he has important things to focus on. Or he will be never able to get things back on how they were...
He tried to grab the pen again, but his fingers were heavy, as well as his eyelids.
Maybe he should rest.
He didn't even got to his bed. He let his head fall on the table, falling asleep immediately, the pen still under his hand...
