The Paradisaea and the Vultur

12

The halls of the manor are dark. A few beams of moonlight slip through the cracks between the closed curtain, and the gray half-light casts a haunted look over the marble pillars. There are no lit candles since all the servants have been given an extended vacation. An old grandfather clock sits against the far wall of the foyer, a golden pendulum swinging inside its case in time with the muted ticking like a mechanical heartbeat. A single pair of footsteps accompanies the ticking, and the irregular pace echoes throughout the foyer. With how silent the manor is, it would not be a stretch to say the footsteps echo throughout the entire building, growing as loud as an army's drum guiding the soldiers' march.

The footsteps momentarily stop as a figure stands in the vestibule. He sets a suitcase on the ground beside his feet as he leans down to pull a pair of shoes on. As the shoes are being tugged on, a second pair of footsteps fills the manor. The figure in the vestibule sighs to himself, but the noise is quickly swallowed by the nauseating silence all around them. When Kaveh stands up, he glances out of the corner of his eyes. Al-Haitham is standing in the middle of the foyer. The large window behind him creates a silver outline around his body, and the shadows cover his face as thickly as a mask. Kaveh looks away. He reaches out to grab his coat. As he unhooks the cloth, there is a hand on his wrist. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving," Kaveh answers curtly, not a trace of amusement in his tone even when he was given an opportunity to tease Al-Haitham. Kaveh tugs his wrist out of Al-Haitham's hold. Al-Haitham lifts his fingers, allowing Kaveh freedom without moving his own hand away. Kaveh reaches around to throw the coat over his shoulders. Kaveh reaches up to button his coat up, knowing that the world is still cool with how far off dawn is from the present moment.

"Where are you going?" Al-Haitham's voice is quiet. Each word is said with the same tempo as the grandfather clock that quietly clicks against the silence like a small hammer striking glass. The cracks are growing larger, and the danger of being mutilated by the broken glass is ever-present. Kaveh keeps his eyes off of Al-Haitham, but he feels the warmth of a body right next to him, encroaching into his personal space.

"I am going to finish a project outside of the city," Kaveh answers honestly, seeing no reason why he should keep it a secret. The truth will come out eventually, so he might as well divulge what he can at the moment. It will certainly make this conversation move along more easily.

"Why are your belongings no longer in your room?" Al-Haitham continues prodding. Before anything else, he is a scholar with thousands of questions swirling around in his mind that he sees no problem in voicing when he is eager for an answer. Kaveh has the answers he's looking for, so he stares at Kaveh with narrowed eyes, refraining from physical touch or more aggressive tactics, perhaps from some lingering affection for the man in front of him, for the man that has always been in front of him— just out of reach.

"Because it is no longer my room. I am moving out. When I return to Sumeru City, I will be moving into my own accommodations," Kaveh explains simply, letting the rest of the truth come unspooling from his lips. Kaveh has finished buttoning his coat, his hands lingering on the buttons that warm underneath his chilly hands. Along with being mostly dim and silent, the manor is particularly cold tonight. It is as if someone has spilled the night mists into the building, letting winter and darkness claim the interior. In other situations, Kaveh might have turned to drinking to warm his extremities and letting Al-Haitham hold him to warm his core, but for now, he settles for the cloak that hangs as heavily as a king's robe on his shoulders.