sic semper tyrannis

manibus date lilia plenis

And prosper Cyno did.

Thankfully, Alhaitham didn't have to see him in person. The Sages eagerly accepted any declaration from King Kaveh, not even stopping to question if it had truly been uttered from his lips or approved by his signature. They simply nodded along and scurried off to go save their struggling army.

But Cyno did well, Alhaitham would see it in the news that came in. He'd see it in territory reclaimed, the desert pushed back, and, although Caravan Ribat wasn't taken back yet, they were getting close.

Close enough for Kaveh to grow curious of the war effort despite all of Alhaitham's insistence he didn't need to see it.

The carriage was set up despite his wishes and, this time, their ride in it was quiet. Kaveh didn't look out the windows nor did he even attempt to make conversation—nothing like how he'd been when he was a few years younger. The ride was solemn, and the driver had them quietly exit before a hill that would lead up to the sight of the latest conflict.

Kaveh exited without a word to Alhaitham, though he politely thanked the driver, then set up the hill. He followed after, of course, trailing behind despite the steepness and, more than once, he reached out to attempt to help Kaveh when he stumbled.

Each time, Kaveh glared back at him. "I don't need help," he snapped the first time. Every subsequent time he nearly fell, he said nothing at all.

Alhaitham wasn't sure when this silence had made its way between them, but he could practically feel the hostility falling off Kaveh in waves, so he did nothing to deter it.

When they arrived at the top of the hill, it became hard to even say a thing at all, so he supposed it didn't matter. Kaveh stopped, going motionless at the top as they took it all in. The grass around them was stained bloody in uneven patches, weapons lay discarded all along the earth, and much of the hill had been churned up by cannons.

"You detest me," Alhaitham said quietly, breaking the silence. It was hard to finish with that, hard to form the words when there was so much more at hand than just how they may have felt toward each other. After all, they stood in a literal hell, the flames still flickering and smoldering out.

The bodies still lay bloody around them.

Kaveh stared. Not at him, but at the hill surrounding them. He took it in, everything in its brevity, and let out a slow breath. Then he turned back to Alhaitham with no light behind those ruby eyes, with all the pale coldness of a man he'd once killed. He smiled and repeated, knowing his line by heart. "I detest you the way the sun detests the moon. You cannot have one without the other, but they chase each other away all the same."

"You said it correctly this time."

Kaveh laughed at that. It was cruel and short-lived. "What worth would there be in changing it? It's true now, I suppose. You don't love me, so we might as well relish in the mutual hatred for all eternity. You've made it very clear it isn't going anywhere."

"Kaveh, I don't hate you." Alhaitham reached toward his arm, wrapping fingers around his slim wrist until his thumb and middle finger touched. "I hate that you seem convinced I do."

"You don't love me," Kaveh hissed, pulling his wrist back. He stumbled backward, red eyes narrowing in suspicion, and he brought his arm up to his chest, nursing his wrist with his other hand. "You don't love me, but you don't hate me. Just pick one or the other. It's not hard and you don't have to confuse me like this. It's a constant false hope and it's—"

Kaveh cut himself off with a soft sob that wrenched itself from his throat unwillingly. He lurched forward, barely catching himself with uneven steps as his head came to dip low. The gold band hanging around his head fell, bouncing once and then laying pretty on the grass. The hand at his chest held firm while his other one reached out into the air for balance, fingers extended like he was reaching for something, but there was nothing there. Nothing remained there but air and the scent of blood and flames and hell; it was a hell of Kaveh's own making.