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Layla holds that yes, there was indeed a direct correlation between the termination of the Akasha system services and the start of the gossip mill in Sumeru City that later spread throughout the region.

The entire populace had thus far lived lives in which every piece of information they acquired was by design true, tried, and proved. Strategic misinformation and fraudulent investigations aside, the fact of the matter was that, for the common folk, there had never been a need to doubt anything. Gossip was not a word in their day-to-day vocabulary – merely a ‘heinous, base, and unintelligent activity that people from outside of the blessed lands of the God of Wisdom partook in out of their ignorance’, as the Akademiya liked to put it. And who were the common citizens to debate that? It wasn’t as though they cared, either way. It did not impact their lives.

As far as they knew, everything the Akasha told them was true. There were, thus, no ‘rumors’ as they existed in other nations. There was no ‘misinformation’. 

And there was certainly no gossip. At least not in a blatant, evident way. Even if there was a form of it, it was so small and unimportant that it didn’t quite register as such in the minds of the people. Your neighbor telling you about how their sister’s daughter was ostensibly dating an Eremite Mercenary was simply small talk about their day-to-day life, and not some rumor they’d overheard somewhere, much less gossip.

But with the shutting down of the Akasha terminal, things changed.

Suddenly, the people of Sumeru were left without their source of true, reliable information. They were like a boat, unanchored and drifting into unknown, new waters. The first few days, there was a reluctance to believe much of anything. How could you prove what you knew was true, if the Akasha wasn’t there to determine it? Where would you get your information?

It was like watching a child learn how to walk. The people discovered that they could go to each other for information. If you wanted to grow Padisarahs and could no longer ask the Akasha how much water they needed or what type of soil they preferred, you could simply go to the guy down the street who had been growing Padisarahs for the past couple of decades. If you had no idea when the next departure of boats for Dornman Port, Mondstadt, would be and you couldn’t check the schedules in the Akasha, you could simply go ask the sailors at Port Ormos. Or the merchants who traveled with them, if you didn’t want to or couldn’t leave the city.

Knowing that this was the way in which things had functioned for eons in other nations made it almost embarrassing to look at and even partake in. But that was how things were.

The people didn’t grow out of using the Akasha terminals in a couple of days, but they did make quick progress on it. And with a now open market for information, it didn’t take long for things to get complicated. Layla had only heard rumors (and what a novelty that was!) about the headache-inducing efforts it took the Mahamata to set up campaigns and seminars on how to not fall for scams. Truly, the Liberation Team had saved Lesser Lord Kusanali, but the Mahamata had saved the now clueless people of Sumeru. With their persistence and iron fist, it was a miracle how quickly the common folk adapted to the necessary shrewdness to keep themselves from being seen as naive prey to those with less than savory goals.

(Layla had no clue how the Scribe had managed to juggle his growing duties, the duties of the imprisoned Sages, the efforts of the Mahamata, and the general chaos of the Akademiya all at once, and all after taking part in the lovingly nicknamed Liberation Team.

Layla had never interacted much with the Scribe, and with each day that passed, she kind of wouldn’t mind if things stayed that way.)

That is all to say, that it wasn’t long after the termination of the Akasha system services that a particular piece of gossip – of hot tea, as Dunya from the Vahumana liked to put it – began circulating through the city. Surprisingly (or… maybe not), it began from within the Akademiya. And rather than the common gossip which consisted of half-baked information that could only be believed half the time, this one came in the form of a statement, followed by a question.

Layla figures a question would be the thing to catch all the researchers by the throat and transform them into nothing more than gossip-dealers. If there was one thing people like them loved more than gossip, it was stating their opinions and thoughts on said gossip. And gossip with questions? It just begged to be spread around.

The original poser of the question is still at large, and to this day nobody has had the balls to step forward and claim to be the one; mostly because it’s likely more than one instance of this question being posed for the first time in isolated contexts exists. Nonetheless, regardless of who brought up the topic first, it spread in a similar fashion throughout the Akademiya, whispered from ear to ear, an innocent-sounding comment followed by the question itself.

The igniting phrase went more or less like this,

“You’ve seen the Scribe and Mister Kaveh from the Kshahrewar argue before, right? Don’t you think they sound like an old married couple?”

This phrase circulated the Akademiya for a couple of days, Layla herself overhearing it once or twice in hushed whispers in the House of Daena. In and of itself, it didn’t cause much of a revolt. But it was the budding prelude to something far, far greater.

The next step in this Waverider crash came when Sasani from the Kshahrewar, upon being on the receiving end of The Phrase, replied with,

“Well- Are they not roommates? Maybe it’s because of a personality clash.”

Which was news to most of the alumni.

Now, the fact that not only did they argue ‘like a married couple’ (and going by the general consensus around The Phrase, most people agreed to that interpretation of the verbal fights), but they also lived together,

It was fuel to the slowly but steadily growing fire.

It didn’t take long before this revelation had circulated throughout the entire Akademiya, and thus someone (again, no clear first individual) had asked the impending question as a reply,

“Do you think they’re dating, then?”

It was like the eyes of all alumni in the Akademiya were opened to a new, vast world of possibilities.

With the question on the table, numerous small debates began cropping up, with people arguing why ‘it’s a valid question, actually’. Reasons as to why it was even valid to ask such a question ranged from good to self-indulgent, but the one used the most and the one that ultimately became the flagship Explanation for why this whole thing got started in the first place was that,

If they argued so much, why were they still living together? 

No amount of economical problems would still keep two clashing personalities together for this long; mainly because both of them could easily find someone else to live with should they want to move out of that house. For free.

Key word being ‘want’.

Because for them to seemingly hate each other as infamously as they did (it was a bit of an open secret within the Akademiya, as shown in the original Phrase that started all of this), they sure showed no signs of splitting from the household.

Thus, they had other reasons to stick together. Hence the proposal that it wasn’t economical problems or other types of impossibilities what kept them in the same household, but rather, an emotional link.

Which is how the question was prompted.

Are they dating? Because surely, according to the Explanation, they had a reason beyond an economical situation to stick together; a reason widely agreed upon to be emotional.

Which would mean they liked each other. Or were in love. Or something along those lines.

The proposition that the Scribe and Mister Kaveh could be in love with each other seemed to run like a smooth river through the Akademiya, accepted immediately by everyone who came into contact with it – further proving the point that it was a sensible observation and assumption to make, if so many people also saw it that way.

So with that baseline established came the question itself.

Are they dating?

That they had feelings for each other was not up for debate – the entire gossip mill was working under the near universally unanimous assumption that it was indeed the case.

It explained why they still lived together: they loved each other. Of course. If they did, then obviously neither would want to move out, no matter how much they fought. Nobody in the Akademiya truly knew if their fights were serious serious, after all. For all they knew, that could simply be their way of joking around.

So the Scribe and Mister Kaveh liked each other.

Were they dating, though? Living together in what they later discovered to be the Scribe’s house that Mister Kaveh was crashing at – which was a huge revelation, given everyone knew the Scribe to be the type of straightforward man who wouldn’t hesitate to kick out a roommate they didn’t agree with – were they only roommates?

Or was there something else there?

When faced with a question and no answer, the growing investigation team split into two categories: those who poured their efforts into trying to unravel the truth, and those who placed bets on the result.

As time went on, it became less of two sides of an operation, and more of a… a ‘most who place bets also investigate, but not all those who investigate place bets’ sort of deal. It turned into a Venn diagram of sorts, with most of the Akademiya falling right in the junction.

(When the situation was resolved, Layla would’ve estimated that about sixty percent were only betting, thirty five percent were betting and investigating, and only a mease five percent were only in it for the thrill of knowing the truth.)

Thus, with a question and a group of raging gossipy Akademiya alumni looking for any excuse to distract their minds from the agonizing process of their actual research, ‘Operation Omni-Darshan Fathers’ came into effect.

Yes.

Omni-Darshan Fathers.

Allegedly, the name of the operation came about in a horribly unfortunate series of events that was nothing short of a domino effect of stars aligning against them. If witness accounts were to be believed (and Layla kind of didn’t want to, but any other alternative was worse), the blooming operation traveled with the recovering Haypasia from the Rtawahist to the Avidya Forest, wherein the Forest Watcher came to know of it, who then shared it with Trainee Forest Ranger Collei, who prodded Haypasia for further details, and then let the whole thing slip to, and this was the kicker,

General Mahamatra.

The General Mahamatra. 

Who had just- happened to be there. Because apparently the General Mahamatra and the Forest Watcher shared occasional dinners. Layla had been living happier without that knowledge.

The Rtawahist students unlucky enough to have been in the general common room that day said they were met with the General Mahamatra, who had been directed to seek them out by Haypasia as her source of the intel. Once the general had scared the entire ordeal out of the students, he'd then asked who was handling the betting pools.

Thinking the general was about to arrest someone, apparently the students refused to say anything at first. But eventually, Ashk came to the rescue of his fellow Darshan companions and declared himself the one running the bets.

Again, if witness accounts are to be believed, not only did the General Mahamatra not arrest anyone on the spot, but he instead made the first official bet on the case, declaring that – and surely this was heavily paraphrased – “Alhaitham has balls but not that many”; and that he subscribed to the idea that they were not, in fact, dating yet.

Yet.

Layla has heard that it was that strange unspoken admission of the general that he, too, coincided with their ideas on this situation what kept the students awake and alive for the hour and a half that followed of horrid pun after horrid pun that resulted in the general himself declaring the official name for the operation, explaining it for another half hour, and then leaving.

Apparently the shortened explanation was that… it was an evolution of several tepid puns and bad jokes and student call-outs that included one too many dead-serious uses of the words ‘daddy’ and ‘parentless’? Layla didn’t know nor did she want to know.

So, since everyone knew better than to raise objections against the General Mahamatra, the name ‘Operation Omni-Darshan Fathers’ became the official title under which they all banded together, solidifying this dumb gossip mill into something else.

(Even if that was the official name, Layla is pretty sure she only ever heard it mentioned by the whole title when in the presence of General Mahamatra. The rest of the time, everyone simply referred to it as ‘the Operation’, since it was the only thing of its kind happening at that moment.)

With Ashk having accidentally landed himself in the position of official bet-keeper (you’d be stupid to lie to the General Mahamatra, so he had no choice but to commit to the bit), Layla was somehow dragged into this mess by his puppy eyes and the scared faces of the other students who had claimed that day to have nothing to do with the bets. And since she couldn’t abandon her fellow Darshan companion, Layla ended up as the bet-keeping assistant.

This ended up solidifying the Rtawahist as the neutral Darshan of the six, acting as the mediators who would keep track of all the bets. With most Amurta students out of the city, it became almost second-nature to rope their Darshan with them and have them both be the ones who would be in charge of fact-checking all incoming information and keeping an unbiased outlook. Rtawahist and Amurta students were therefore banned from partaking in the betting, and with the near to non-existent complaints from either side, the operation gained itself some semblance of a structure.

Layla had never been prouder of her Darshan.

With a neutral faction established, however, it became inevitable that the rest of the Darshans would take their own stances. The question ‘Are they dating?’ prompted the Operation to split into two answering stances and their branches that each subscribed to at their own discretion.

The first and the most prevalent theory was that no, they were not dating yet.

The ‘Not Dating’ side of the Operation was composed mostly of students from the Spantamad and Haravatat Darshans, along with a few outsiders and faculty members who had started to get in on the whole ordeal. This stance was held up by multiple theories that explained why they were not dating yet, among which stood the primary ones:

1. They’re Friends with Benefits, but are catching feelings.
2. They’re oblivious. Like straight up cannot notice the feelings under the weird rivalry they have.
3. They’re in denial. One or both know they’re catching feelings, but can’t accept they’re catching feelings for the other.
4. It’s a forbidden love. Something beyond themselves keeps them from confessing.

Conversely, the other stance was, obviously, that yes, they are dating.

The ‘Married’ side of the operation was composed mostly of students from the Kshahrewar and Vahumana (forever opposing the Haravatat) Darshans, again along with outsiders and faculty. Contrary to the name of this stance, not all the theories suggested them to be married, per se, but it was the more direct name and an homage to the original Phrase, and so it was the one chosen. Their primary theories were:

1. They’re dating. As in, they’re boyfriends. This is just How They Are.
2. They’re married. A variant of the boyfriends theory.
3. They’re dating or married and this is not how they are, and it’s all falling apart.
4. They’re dating or married and this is just an act so people don’t find out.

There was, of course, the ever elusive third stance that was ‘what are you all on, they hate each other’; but it was difficult to find someone who lasted long with that stance upon being given the rundown on why people were all up in their houses with this conspiracy-level theorizing. If someone truly subscribed to this stance, they simply kept their mouths shut and watched the mayhem from afar. Free entertainment.

Layla personally never really knew which stance to subscribe to. And since she was the bet-keeper assistant and from the neutral Rtawahist, she kind of had been expected to not subscribe to either stance, so all the better for her.

With the Operation fully fleshed out, then, their work started in true. A core team of select investigators was established, picked from the Rtawahist, Amurta, Haravatat, and Kshahrewar Darshans; the first two for neutrality and, in the case of the Amurta, coverage, and the second two for being both the representatives of each stance and the Darshans their subjects in question had belonged to: the Scribe had graduated from the Haravatat, while Mister Kaveh had graduated from the Kshahrewar.

(Layla, forever haunted by the memory of her Rtawahist companions’ retelling of the encounter with the General Mahamatra, couldn’t help but notice how Mister Kaveh’s juniors believed they must be either dating or married, while the Scribe’s juniors held that they weren’t an item yet.

Which implied the people who knew the Scribe – even if only a degree more than others – all seemed to agree that-

Alhaitham has balls but not that many.

Which was not a thought that Layla liked to have, like, at all. Like- What did that even mean? Archons, she wanted to sleep for a solid year.)

The first order of business was setting up what they landed on calling an ‘observation network’: a set of select people who carried out their day-to-day lives in places where they would be likely to catch glimpses of (or even interact with) their subjects. The goal being, of course, to gather information on them in the hopes that something might bring about a breakthrough for their investigation.

Spies. They were spies. Layla knew they didn’t like calling them that, but that’s what they were.

Most of the first spies came from within the Darshans associated with their subjects: students from both Haravatat and Kshahrewar volunteered to put forth their own knowledge on their seniors and gather any and all accounts they could from other current and past members of their Darshans. Those from the Mahamata also volunteered a similar input, as they were the ones who actively worked with one of them – that being the Scribe. 

The morning following the Mahamata’s declaration of active cooperation and the Operation’s doubt on how to gather contemporary information on Mister Kaveh, Layla woke up on her desk with three sheets of parchment under her upon which all the previous customers from the architect were noted down.

Layla figured that explained the sore heels of her feet and the ink in her hands, and quietly submitted the index.

What came to be known within the Operation as the Architect Index provided interesting results. Students from the Amurta were dispatched to search for the names in the index that were not found in Sumeru City or Port Ormos, while the rest of them went about asking for any thoughts anyone might share on Mister Kaveh as a professional. The replies ranged from stuff they already knew, to things that fell in line with their own assumptions, to an actual revelation.

It came in the form of Lord Sangemah Bay’s account of their business with the architect. According to them, it wasn’t long after completing the Palace of Alcazarzaray that Mister Kaveh came to live with the Scribe. Intrigued by the development, apparently Lord Sangemah Bay themselves had asked around, and found that Mister Kaveh had reached an agreement with the Scribe by recommendation of the Forest Watcher, of all people. Which.

Was not. Someone anyone thought would end up involved in this? Not after the whole… General Mahamatra incident.

So more Amurta students were dispatched to Gandharva Ville to question the Forest Watcher on this. 

While they were waiting for word to get back on that front, the Operation expanded. The main and most active core group was still the two leading Darshans and their mediators, along with Akademiya staff and Mahamata members; but they grew to include the general public within Sumeru City. Nobody was entirely sure for a while how the Akademiya connected with non-students, or how word of the Operation got out; but it did. It (seemingly) began in the Grand Bazaar, with students from the Kshahrewar recruiting the vendors and the cast of the Zubayr Theater. As it turned out, the Scribe made an occasional trip to the Grand Bazaar whenever Nilou was present in a performance, and in more than one occasion would Mister Kaveh be sighted catching up to him while perusing the spice stalls.

According to Jut, the Scribe made routine stops by his stall to purchase cooking spices as the final leg of his grocery trips. This was not news, and not particularly interesting information for the Operation. But what caught their attention, and the reason why Jut’s word reached them to begin with, was because on more than one occasion had Mister Kaveh cornered the Scribe at the stall to demand keys. To the house. That he also lived in.

Jut’s witness account brought about some revelations. One, for whatever reason, Mister Kaveh either did not have an actual key set of his own to access the house, or the Scribe had a tendency to take both sets and lock the other out. Given their general interactions within the Akademiya, the latter seemed to be the most likely option.

Two, given nobody had managed to get their hands on any merchant’s accounts of Mister Kaveh making any sort of grocery trips (and they had tried), it seemed as though the Scribe was the one in charge of food supply for the house. Which was… strange, but not for obvious reasons. It was strange because their first and main suspicion as to why Mister Kaveh had ended up with the Scribe to begin with (not why he stayed, that was, as was established, love) was because of a financial situation. Nobody knew how exactly Mister Kaveh provided for the shared household, but nobody could fit in their heads that they… shared funds. So if the Scribe was the one paying for all the groceries-

Then what was Mister Kaveh even providing? House upkeep? Nobody knew if he even cooked, and since he was more often than not out of the city for a job for most of the day, nobody could confidently say he was in charge of cleaning or maintaining the house. At least not regularly. 

Did he even pay rent at all? They lacked so much information at that stage, that it was impossible to draw clear conclusions. But the fact that the Scribe was the one apparently in charge of buying groceries did nudge their suspicions closer to the ‘financial problem’ theory for why they ended up together.

That aside, there was one other thing that Jut’s account brought forth. According to the Vahumana student that interviewed him, he began his report with,

“So Nilou told me how they’re roommates, right? And it got me thinking, I’ve seen-”

Nilou told me.

Nilou. From the Zubayr Theater. 

As soon as the core team had realized what that meant, a group of Rtawahist students had been dispatched to ask her how she found out the Scribe and Mister Kaveh were roommates, as that had been something nobody in the Akademiya but a few Kshahrewar had been aware of.

The student’s findings from Nilou’s account had been eye-opening.

The Operation’s leak to the outside of the Akademiya had happened through the Scribe himself.

Which.

What?

If the Rtawahist group that interviewed her were to be believed (and it didn’t sound real, but there was also no other explanation; not to mention this was Nilou. They wouldn’t lie about Nilou), then apparently the Scribe was… good friends with Nilou? After the liberation of Lesser Lord Kusanali, the two of them had just… kept in touch. It added up with witness accounts from the Grand Bazaar who all agreed that yes the Scribe would drop by whenever Nilou was performing, and he had been seen conversing with her afterwards for a couple of minutes on occasion. Someone from the Spantamand even added that Enteka (from the Puspa Café) had told them that yeah, the Scribe and Nilou sometimes dropped by and had a drink together in the evenings.

But while that was all very surprising (nobody had known the Scribe had… friends? At all??), it wasn’t the real meat and potatoes of the Nilou Report, as it was dubbed. No, Nilou had explained that the Scribe had commented to her how it seemed as though the students at the Akademiya had started a betting committee. Betting wasn’t strictly allowed within Akademiya grounds (hence Rtawahist students having feared the General Mahamatra would arrest them that day), so he suspected that they might be taking it somewhere else, likely the Grand Bazaar. Nilou had then told him that while she hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary, that she’d keep an eye out for it. 

Reportedly, Nilou had then said that the Scribe had told her that no, he didn’t particularly care to stop them if they wanted to bet on whatever. The problem was that the Mahamata disallowed things like betting and gambling, and as the technical head of the division, he kind of couldn’t allow anything of the sort to happen on Akademiya grounds, even if he didn’t care either way. But that if they were fooling around in the Bazaar, then it was technically not his problem anymore.

The report continued that Nilou, curious by this new development, had asked the Scribe if he knew what they were even betting on. The Scribe had said he didn’t know nor did he care to know (and the sigh of relief that had flowed through the core team’s gathering room at that), but that if he had to take a wild guess, it was probably something to do with Mister Kaveh, as-

As, somehow, Layla herself had appeared in the dead of night at the House of Daena to confirm with him that it had indeed been Mister Kaveh the one in charge of the Palace of Alcazarzaray. According to the Scribe, given she’d never shown any interest in that and hadn’t thought to go to the Kshahrewar for that info, then perhaps the Kshahrewar had gotten into another one of their overzealous streaks and were betting on accomplishments within their members. Or even between Darshans. 

Which was a sensible assumption to make, and Layla felt like she could breathe again when all eyes on the gathering room left her upon determining she hadn’t jeopardized the entire Operation overnight and had instead merely nudged it forward, only in a weird direction.

So, under the impression that the Akademiya was holding a little dick-meassuring contest between their laureates, Nilou had gone around and asked non-core members of the Operation what it was all about. Thankfully they hadn’t leaked the entire thing, but they had clarified to her that no, that wasn’t what was happening, and that they were instead intrigued by why Mister Kaveh and the Scribe were even roommates at all, given their infamously clashing personalities.

Which wasn’t exactly their objective, but it was a good cover. They did also want to know that, after all.

According to the report, Nilou had caught on that the Scribe was unaware of the true nature of the situation, and had decided it was far too interesting to let it slip to him, so she had instead begun her own little investigation around the Grand Bazaar. Which was how Jut had come to know that the Scribe and Mister Kaveh were roommates, and how he’d even thought of bringing forth his share of information.

So the Operation formally invited Nilou to the core team and let her in on the secret, to which she eagerly agreed to cooperate.

With a new ally secured – and ostensibly the only friend of the Scribe at that! – the Operation was stronger and better than ever.

It was shortly after Nilou’s recruitment that word got back from the Amurta students dispatched to Gandharva Ville to interrogate the Forest Watcher.

Jaleh and Ashshab’s trip to Gandharva Ville under the pretense of consulting the Forest Watcher about their own research at Pardis Dhyai brought back interesting results. 

Very interesting results.

So it turned out that Mister Kaveh was a regular at Gandharva Ville – or, as regular as anyone who didn’t live there could be. While the Palace of Alcazarzaray had been under construction, he had frequented the Forest Watcher for his input on the flora that could be used for the final product. After it had been completed and once his financial situation had reportedly become dire, he had supposedly gone back to the Avidya Forest for a breather and to clear his mind to better tackle his now difficult situation. 

The interesting part was that it had been the Forest Watcher himself the one who had pointed out that the Scribe had an available room in his house. Because Sumeru was a godforsaken napkin, it turned out that the Forest Watcher had once stayed there when he had been coerced into assisting with a particular course in the Akademiya for Amurta students heading to Pardis Dhyai. If Jaleh and Ashshab were to be believed, the Forest Watcher had told Mister Kaveh that if he really had no options, he could try his luck with the Scribe. Not entirely surprising, given this was the Forest Watcher, he had predicted they likely wouldn’t get along and tried to warn Mister Kaveh that this option had its drawbacks.

And yet, Mister Kaveh was now roommates with the Scribe. So not only had he chosen this option despite the already evident difficulties that would arise, but he had also stuck around.

It seemed their theory of financial problems bringing Mister Kaveh to the Scribe had been correct. Obviously he had stayed out of love, that was not up for debate. Mister Kaveh’s debt could be big, but he reportedly received a stipend from the Akademiya, not to mention occasionally teaching courses for the Kshahrewar. He wasn’t neither poor nor unemployed.

Either way, Jaleh and Ashshab’s report came with even more surprises. Apparently (and this the core team still couldn’t quite draw a mental timeline for) the General Mahamatra was not only acquainted with Mister Kaveh but had even brought him along for one dinner with the Forest Watcher.

This Jaleh and Ashshab found out from Trainee Forest Ranger Collei, who also attended these dinners (for… whatever reason?), and who so far had been their wildest card in the operation, accidentally unleashing the General Mahamatra upon the Rtawahist students and now providing the most in-depth account of the workings at Gandharva Ville.

Because during the dinner Mister Kaveh was there, post Palace of Alcazarzaray, he reportedly did nothing but complain about the Scribe. If Trainee Forest Ranger Collei was to be believed, that had been ages ago. And still. Mister Kaveh was there. Still living with the Scribe.

Unbelievable. Layla weighted the options of breaking into that house one night and then playing it off as another sleepwalking situation.

(She didn’t. Obviously.)

After the Gandharva Ville report and Nilou’s recruitment, progress on the Operation sort of… stagnated. They continued to compile reports of the usual verbal fights between their subjects, but nothing out of the ordinary. By then, all they really had was a couple of loose theories and a collection of scathing arguments penned like they were stage play scripts.

They needed something more concise.

They quickly realized that their biggest problem was the fact that inquiring about anything that happened between those two beyond their well-known fights was next to impossible. The Scribe was inscrutable – his only friend seemed to be Nilou, and she hadn’t known he even had a roommate to begin with. On the other hand, Mister Kaveh made digging beneath the surface a horrifying challenge: he was the more vocal of the two about his apparent dissatisfaction with his housemate, so if you even thought of bringing the conversation topic anywhere near that, all you would get would be two hours straight of hilarious complaining.

But nothing to go off on.

Defeated, it almost seemed like they had hit an impasse. Someone proposed they ask around whether anyone knew if either were single or not, but the idea didn’t receive as much support as it would’ve: what would the answer do for them, anyway? If it turned out the people of Sumeru City all coincided that they were single, what did that mean? Yes, that could support the ‘not dating’ stance, but it could also fall into the ‘married but hiding it’ theory on the other stance. And if it turned out that one or both was not, somehow, single; it still wouldn’t tell them much. At best, it would confirm the ‘married’ stance. At worst, it could either dismantle the entire Operation should one of them be seeing someone else, or turn it into a sordid affair investigation.

A handful of Vahumana students went out and asked around, anyway. 

Two nights after the idea was gently shut down, Layla once again woke up at her desk. This time, she’d been laying atop a single sheet of paper. A list- no, a tally.

Mortified, she submitted it to the core team anyway.

The mission ‘The Great Popularity Poll’ took off immediately. Somehow, Layla had managed to go around and ask a handful of test individuals at Port Ormos (which explained the conspicuous amount of Mora she’d lost – enough to hire a Sumpter Beast ride down to port) about who they thought was the most desirable bachelor and bachelorette of the nation.

The results, although small, proved to the Operation that this could work. If they included both sides of the spectrum, it would be less likely anyone would suspect this to be anything but pointless (if a bit shameless) fun. Or a Vahumana research project. Which ended up being the cover.

So the Poll was launched as an experiment in social conduct by the Vahumana in Sumeru City and Port Ormos, with Amurta students sent to collect data from Caravan Ribat, Aaru Village, Gandharva Ville, and Vimara Village. The idea was that, with the question posed, they would be able to either get more interesting information out of the people, or with any luck, cause a domino effect that would result in a breakthrough.

Two days after the Poll was launched, Vahumana students gathered at their common hall with Rtawahist witnesses to prevent any skewed results and went over the tallies, compiling the data and making an official list.

The results were- something.

The bachelorette’s poll didn’t particularly interest them for their purposes, but the Vahumana students made sure to give it as much attention to keep up the facade. With the experiment already carried out, they decided to keep it so that some of them could use it for further sociological investigations.

Layla tried not to think too much about the bachelorette poll. The ‘#7’ preceding her name would haunt her forever.

The bachelor’s poll was the interesting one. Somehow, there had been a three way tie for first place, and it was between the Scribe, Mister Kaveh, and Lambad. Which. Was a clear demonstration of the sheer diversity of people’s tastes in this city, both for looks and personality. And also that Aaru Village was far too small, thus the results were obviously heavily skewed towards this side of the Wall of Samiel. At least the Vahumana students made sure to point that out in their conclusions.

Layla was almost grateful the bachelor’s poll caused such an uproar between the alumni, with Darshans getting into a competitive streak over who had the most people of their Darshans higher up in the list. Haravatat and Kshahrewar students took it with surprising sportsmanship, an illusion that was ruined as soon as they all admitted that of course their seniors would be first, have you seen them? 

The poll’s results did kind of monopolize their Amurta students on the field, as they spent the following couple of days all traveling to Gandharva Ville to congratulate (read: bully) the Forest Watcher for landing himself on fifth place, two spots below the General Mahamatra. They were all reportedly kicked out of the Avidya Forest for causing a disturbance.

At least all the ruckus over that half of the poll meant Layla managed to forget about the other one. For the most part.

With the Poll circulating Sumeru in a flash (and reportedly starting a similar poll in neighboring Liyue and Inazuma??), it didn’t take long before they got some crumbs of information for their efforts. Following one of their meetings at the Puspa Café, Nilou reported that the Scribe had not denied the fact that he was indeed a bachelor. And while he was never known to speak about Mister Kaveh, like, at all; he likewise made no comment on his status – given the Scribe’s penchant for setting records straight and given Nilou was so far the only person he had uttered Mister Kaveh’s name for; it seemed telling.

So either they were both single and therefore not dating, or they were both perfectly hiding the fact they were an item. The increase of bets for the ‘not dating’ stance spoke for themselves, however.

The real jackpot from this whole ordeal arrived a week after The Poll’s results had been made public, in the form of Haypasia, of all people.

Upon her brief return to the Akademiya to pick up some papers, she got some of her fellow Rtawahist students into their general room and began updating them on her share of information.

According to her, the General Mahamatra had been over at Gandharva Ville for his occasional dinner with the Forest Watcher and Trainee Forest Ranger Collei about a day after The Poll's results had reached the Avidya Forest. Because Haypasia had gotten Collei invested in the Operation, and Collei in turn had been the one to accidentally rope the general in as well, it seemed as though literally everyone at Gandharva Ville was now in on the secret.

So when General Mahamatra showed up, Trainee Forest Ranger Collei asked him excitedly if he'd seen The Poll's results and the fact he'd come in third.

The General Mahamatra had not, actually, heard of The Poll's results yet as he'd been traveling from Aaru Village to the Avidya Forest while that was happening. According to Haypasia (who'd been told all of this by Trainee Forest Ranger Collei), the general then mentioned how that explained a lot, actually. 

Because apparently he'd met with Mister Kaveh on the way through Caravan Ribat the day before yesterday, and the man had done nothing but complain about his housemate again. But unlike the usual rants, this one had sounded more... purposeful, as the general had put it.

If Haypasia's recount of Collei's recount of the General Mahamatra's account of his conversation with Mister Kaveh was to be believed (so you can see the problem there), then Mister Kaveh had gone on a rant on why the Scribe was not a desirable bachelor, the reasons reportedly being that,

1. "His order on where he puts things is far too strict and far too ludicrous to even be called an 'order', and he will get all up in arms if I so much as scoot anything aside! He will even call my own order into question, and then say that if only my room was tidier then maybe I wouldn't be 'running around like a headless chicken' whenever I can't find anything! Like he doesn’t know damn well he's the one who purposely displaces all my stuff! How else could he possibly know where everything is when even I, who lives in that room, cannot find it? I swear he only does it so I’ll have no choice but to ask him if he’s seen the thing I'm looking for, all so he can give me that damned disappointed look that makes me feel like I'm disgracing my own mother!"
2. "He'll take the clothes off the chair in my room and pile them directly outside my door on laundry days. I know it’s laundry day! He doesn’t have to keep doing that like I'm some sort of teenager that will procrastinate on washing his clothes! Just because I forgot one time doesn’t mean he has to constantly do it every single chance he gets! And the worst part is it actually saves me time! So I have to thank him! For breaking into my room when I'm not there and tossing my clothes outside my door for me to find when I come back and immediately move to the laundry room! Archons, and the look he gives me when he catches me picking up the pile! Why is he like this?! I'm not fifteen, I am going to do my laundry even if he doesn't tell me to!"
3. "He puts way too much spice into the food! Our food, that I'm also going to have to eat! It has to be on purpose, right? It has to be, there’s no way he can actually handle that much spice. He only does it to make me look bad! Because what am I supposed to do? Tell him it’s too spicy? And forfeit my pride as a man of Sumeru?! He knows damn well I'm not going to cave in and tell him to put less spice in it. He has to know. He always stares at me with that blank, expectant look in his eyes like he’s waiting for me to crack. I'm not going to! And he knows! So he keeps doing it! Thank the Archons he's only in charge of dinners. But you know what the worst part is? It’s actually really good! It’s delicious! Why is he so good at cooking if he's going to put so much spice in it?! I'd gladly eat whatever he makes for the rest of my life if I could actually feel my tongue after it!"
4. "He leaves way too early in the mornings. Who does that? Who gets out of the house and ready for work at six in the morning?! But that’s not the problem- The problem is that, since I'm the sane one who doesn’t leave so early for work, he put me in charge of breakfast. But since he leaves at six, he has no time to sit down and actually eat with me – I'm not going to wake up any earlier to get cooking! So I have to make him a lunchbox! A lunchbox! Of breakfast! Like I'm his housewife! And he knows it looks like that because of that stupid little face he makes like he's trying not to give me that cocky smile of his' when he walks by the kitchen to pick up the food. He even thanks me! Don't thank me! I'm not doing it because I want to!"
5. "He won’t let me get a dog. Says that neither of us is home enough to take care of it. I'm not going to leave it in the house with you, are you mad?! I know that! It’s going to be my dog and it’s going to come along with me when I work! Keep me company, you know? But no! He also says that the house isn’t big enough for one, that it’s going to get all over his books and papers. Get a bigger house, you ass! It's already not big enough for the two of us! It’s not like he doesn’t have the money for it, and I would happily design it! But no! He said he doesn’t want a bigger house! That if we were to ever get a pet, it'd be a cat, because they can function on their own without constant vigilance, are tidier, and won’t slobber all over his papers. But I can't take a cat out to work, what would I even do with it?! And I'm not at the house enough to cuddle it like I know he would! Bastard. I want a traveling dog companion and he wants a cat. If he had a bigger house, we could just have both! It’s that simple! I know he can afford it!"

…

So that was a lot to unpack.

Actual underlying reasons aside, Haypasia had obviously brought this to them for the sheer amount of information that was packed into it if they were to look at it a little deeper.

Firstly, The Phrase was once again strengthened: they acted like a married couple. There was no denying it now. Whether they were actually married or not was yet to be decided.

Second, it was the Scribe the one that cooked dinner, while Mister Kaveh was the one in charge of breakfast. And apparently, the Scribe was… a really good cook? Whether the spice ordeal was on purpose or not, Mister Kaveh himself had said the food was delicious.

On the other hand, this revelation made everyone in the Mahamata look like absolute blind fools. It turned out, everyone knew the Scribe had at some point started to consistently bring packed breakfast to his office when he clocked in for the day. Nobody had really stopped to ponder about it, but with the benefit of hindsight, it would’ve made no sense for the Scribe himself to make the food. Why would he pack it if he had time to prepare it? If he had time to cook in the mornings, he likely had time to eat as well. As he used to do before.

So it turned out that he didn’t. All those packed breakfasts the Scribe would wolf down in the mornings with gusto were apparently made by Mister Kaveh.

Taking the other parts of the rant into account, it also seemed to explain to the Mahamata why the Scribe would always frown slightly when he began eating. Apparently someone curious and brave enough who’d happened to be delivering something over had asked about it once, and they’d gotten a simple “it’s not spicy enough” in response.

The particular Mahamata in the gathering room had looked like they felt like an idiot. Layla guessed they had assumed back then that the Scribe had simply messed up while cooking, but that wouldn’t make much sense. Everything the Scribe did was premeditated and calculated, he rarely if ever made mistakes. For him to mess up his food (consistently, at that) would be unthinkable.

(So did that mean that the Scribe genuinely took that much spice, if Mister Kaveh’s breakfasts were ‘not spicy enough’ for him? That Mister Kaveh was wrong in his assumption that the food was spiced up to make him suffer? Did the Scribe have a good spice tolerance, or was Mister Kaveh the one with slightly lower than average? The latter didn’t sound likely, but the former was… a hard pill to swallow. She was so confused.)

Lastly, from the way Mister Kaveh spoke, it didn’t sound like… at least he had no plans to move out. He’d spoken as though the Scribe getting a bigger house would imply he’d continue to live with him regardless. Like he’d just move along with him. Together. And with a cat and a dog.

Which was. Interesting, to say the least.

The only problem to all of this was that it gave them nothing conclusive. One of the theories on the ‘married’ stance proposed that those two were simply Like That, and there was another that suggested it was an act. Either could work perfectly with what they had, just as the ‘not dating’ stance continued strong as usual.

They were at a standstill once again. Their information network continued to report back the usual. Their subjects did nothing to disrupt their routine, giving them nothing to work with. Whatever those two had, it was so solidly established that they couldn’t pry it apart and dissect it. If it turned out that it was all an act, then Layla wouldn’t hesitate to call them the best actors of Sumeru – there was not a single slip, not a single break of character.

With the Operation on hold, Layla gave herself time to participate in the Fungal experiment in Port Ormos. This proved to be rather fruitful for the Operation in the end, as once the week of battling rounds and training had gone by, the fabled Traveler (and what an honor to finally meet them!) remained in Sumeru for a couple of extra days. Knowing this was the only other person who could possibly help them, Layla took the liberty of letting them in on the secret.

It was probably her biggest waking contribution to the cause.

Upon hearing the whole story, the ‘Paimon’ was immediately hooked on the case, prodding and begging the Traveler to join in. The Traveler apparently had something they wanted to report to the General Mahamatra, of all people, who had left the Avidya Forest and had been sighted around Port Ormos over the duration of the Fungal experiment.

So there were no immediate benefits to this. 

(She didn’t even get to take back Twirly Whirly with her yet.)

But a couple of days after speaking with the Traveler, General Mahamatra once again appeared at the Akademiya, herding the Matra to and fro on an important mission.

Despite all of that, he managed to track Layla down to tell her the Traveler was looking for her.

It turned out, the Traveler had given the Operation some thought the past couple of days since they’d parted ways. If they were to be believed, then the Dendro Archon (whom the Traveler was acquainted with after taking part in her liberation) was capable of something they called ‘divining the hearts of the people’. Layla didn’t quite catch it, and from the way the Traveler beat around the bush trying to explain it, it was clear they couldn’t exactly tell it to her in full detail.

Layla felt like she didn’t actually want to know, either way, so she went along with the half-assed explanation.

The point was, Lesser Lord Kusanali could divine the hearts of their subjects.

Essentially granting them an answer once and for all.

Layla couldn’t believe her ears.

The Traveler did say Lesser Lord Kusanali preferred to avoid using this ability of hers, as she sensed it was a breach of privacy. But given the situation, the ‘Paimon’ insisted that she could surely make an exception and give them a vague hint and a nudge in the correct direction.

They promised Layla that they would speak to Lesser Lord Kusanali about this, and Layla almost didn’t sleep that night.

It felt almost like cheating, for this to be the solution. But if it was true that the Dendro Archon would likely not give them a straight answer, then maybe this could be their big break. As things were, they were getting nowhere.

Layla didn’t inform the Operation of this yet, fearing that there would be immense disappointment should the plan fall through.

But Lesser Lord Kusanali was somehow convinced by the Traveler to ‘peer into the consciousness of both men and divine their true feelings’, or something. Half of the Operation reacted to the revelation by praising the almighty powers of their beloved Archon for being capable of such a feat, while the other half was elated at the prospect of finally, finally having concrete answers. If Lesser Lord Kusanali could see into their hearts and find out what they truly felt, then the truth would finally reveal itself!

Obviously word of this spread like wildfire through the streets. The only reason why it didn’t get to their subjects was because Mister Kaveh had been away on a job in Caravan Ribat, and the Scribe had been far too busy with the organizational and bureaucratic half of whatever important investigation the General Mahamatra had mobilized all those Matra for a couple of days prior.

A select group from the Operation, accompanied by the recently recruited Traveler and Paimon and Lesser Lord Kusanali herself, embarked on a covert mission to set up… whatever it was that the Archon needed to peer into their hearts.

The public didn’t know the details, but they didn’t particularly care either way. All they wanted was the results.

They would not get the results.

Upon interrogating the Traveler two days later, they confessed that Lesser Lord Kusanali did, in fact, perform the divine ritual to unearth the men’s feelings. When such an admission obviously stirred the public’s interest and demands started being thrown around to know the result, the Traveler admitted that,

They weren’t privy to the results either.

According to them, once Lesser Lord Kusanali had ‘divined their hearts’, the Archon made a face the Traveler could not accurately describe. If Paimon’s interpretation was to be believed, then Lesser Lord Kusanali had winced deeply, her expression one split between deep-rooted confusion, annoyance, consternation, and embarrassment.

Lesser Lord Kusanali thus refused to share her findings with neither the Traveler and their companion nor the rest of the nation, stating that she had already broken her moral code enough by even peering into their subconscious to begin with, and that divulging what she had found would be an act of further invasion of privacy that she was unwilling to perform.

And while the public had no choice but to admit that yeah, fair enough; they could also not deny that they were disappointed. Lesser Lord Kusanali’s heart divination had been their closest shot at finally unearthing the truth and putting an end to this case once and for all! And now, that door was seemingly forever closed, locked behind a wince and a small apology.

Layla would be remiss not to note, however, that the day after this divination had allegedly taken place, both the Traveler and Paimon placed their bets on the ‘not dating’ stance. Moreover, there was an anonymous tip brought forth by none other than Lord Sangemah Bay themselves which stated that,

The subjects are in denial. Drastic measures might have to be taken. Two magnets won’t stick to each other from across a room, but they won’t separate if you push them close enough.

With an unknown-source tip (and an analogy included!) vouched for and brought forth by the Lord Sangemah Bay cropping up right after the secret divination, most of the public realized that it was very likely the more correct stance was ‘not dating’. What was more, of the many theories behind this particular stance, the one that suggested they were simply in denial seemed to be the case, as stated by the anonymous tip.

With the heart divination having given them no clues, the Operation turned their eyes to the anonymous tip. The mission ‘Pushing Magnets’ was established, and the group got together to try and figure out a way to carry out drastic measures befitting of the situation.

By the time the new mission had been established and the information network was rife with ideas from dumb to illegal, whatever investigation the General Mahamatra had been carrying out was wrapped up, and he once again scared the latest news on the Operation out of the closest students he found.

With the Scribe also back to full vigilance and Mister Kaveh’s job all but finished (having been reportedly sighted finally departing from Caravan Ribat), the information network managed to hush down enough not to attract further attention, and their report to the general was made a day later at a less conspicuous location than the middle of the Spantamad general room in the Akademiya.

If the students who briefed the general were to be believed, then the General Mahamatra had just huffed, suggested they ‘lock them in a cage together’, and left to tend to the final details of the Matra’s investigation.

But following the briefing, security was raised in the Akademiya. The only explanation given came in the form of the Scribe informing them that someone had been assassinated, that it involved the Fatui, and that everyone was obligated to stay vigilant and stay safe.

Which was. Terrible timing, and Layla couldn’t help but remember Elchingen’s involvement with the Fatui during the Fungal experiment in Port Ormos. Surely that was not it, right? Elchingen was in prison now.

(Right?)

Either way, it was not her business. She already had one too many things to worry about.

A couple of days passed. With the security slightly strengthened, the Operation limited themselves to quietly thinking through a plan on how to deal with their own little problem. No interesting news reached them for a bit, and word on the street remained the same: Mister Kaveh is away on a job, and the Scribe hasn’t changed his routine.

No, the first sign that things were beginning to move again came in the form of Kshahrewar students reporting that the Scribe had stopped by their Darshan to inquire about constructions or potential known clients located in the route Caravan Ribat – Sumeru City. Upon being given a small list, the Scribe had simply nodded and departed. The students said they would’ve normally not thought much of this, as the Scribe’s job was to literally keep track of all the comings and goings in the Akademiya (including Kshahrewar students and affiliates undertaking projects), but.

But. Mister Kaveh had gone on a job to Caravan Ribat and reportedly began his return to Sumeru City a couple of days prior.

It did not take that long to make such a trip, and Mister Kaveh was known to move fast from place to place.

For the Scribe to inquire about happenings in the route Mister Kaveh was taking,

Did he suspect the architect had been held up by another job he hadn’t been informed of? 

It meant Mister Kaveh had indeed been meant to have arrived already, yet he hadn’t. With the security strengthened and the recent problem between the Akademiya and the Fatui…

Nilou coming in to report that the Scribe had briefly mentioned he wondered what was holding Mister Kaveh up for so long during one of their chats at Puspa Café all but confirmed their suspicions. She added that, while he had said it as mere curiosity and even added a small and exasperated “what did he get tangled in this time…” at the end, she was certain she had seen him look worried for a moment.

And if the Scribe was worried, it meant the entire alumni body was panicking.

The core team immediately jumped to the worst case scenario: Mister Kaveh was dead. He was fucking dead, he’d been taken off the road by a Fatui spy on his way back to Sumeru City, and his body had been buried somewhere in the wilderness.

But that didn’t make much sense, and thankfully, they were all researchers, for the Archon’s sake. They were better than that.

In the end, they surmised that it would make no sense for Mister Kaveh to be lethally targeted. What would anyone gain from that? No, it was more likely that he had been kidnapped, taken somewhere else, snatched off the road. With the most recent conflict and the current situation, it seemed like too much of a coincidence. If there was anyone who would be targeting the Akademiya at the moment, it would be the Fatui. Mister Kaveh was known to travel alone, after all, and while he was supposedly quite adept at the manipulation of Dendro thanks to his Vision, there was no way he would be able to fend for himself on his own if an entire squad of Fatui soldiers descended upon him at once.

So he had been kidnapped. Now what?

A day passed. The unease was now identifiable in the Scribe, at least according to Haravatat students – anyone else didn’t know him nearly enough to notice the difference. But Nilou seemed to agree with them, insisting that something was definitely wrong.

The Traveler had departed Sumeru for Inazuma. The alumni turned their sights on the General Mahamatra. Amurta students in Pardis Dhyai and near the Avidya forest were dispatched to find the Forest Watcher and inquire about his whereabouts, while the Mahamata kept an eye out for the general.

It didn’t take the combined Operation long to track the head of the Matra down in Vimara Village. He was informed of the situation and updated on the fears of the core team, and departed immediately for the city, where the Scribe had apparently decided he had given Miser Kaveh long enough to show up and had started a small investigation with the Mahamata stationed at Caravan Ribat.

With the General Mahamatra and the Matra combing the route on one end and the Mahamata ensuring nothing had gone past the Wall of Samiel and gathering intel from eyewitness accounts, it didn’t take them all that long to catch trail of the Fatui’s activities.

The Mahamata remaining in the city were put on temporary charge of the Akademiya’s security and the faculty staff and active Sages in charge of management as the Scribe personally departed with a select group of Spantamad students specializing in elemental control. The core team caught them before leaving, and the students promised to report what they’d see as soon as they could.

There was a single day of quiet stress in the Akademiya. The Scribe was away, most of the Mahamata were still at Caravan Ribat to block the escape route towards the desert, and the general had taken most of the Matra with him as well. 

It was quiet as the students went about their classes, by then the entire alumni having found out about the possible and likely kidnapping of Mister Kaveh.

It was a testament to the strenght of the Operation’s network just how quickly the news traveled down the chain. From the Spantamad students with the Scribe, to the General Mahamatra, to their allies within the Mahamata, to Amurta students stationed at Pardis Dhyai, and along with with the Forest Watcher, of all people – because apparently the General Mahamatra had used the network to send a message through to him.

Thus the core team was the first to receive the news via the Forest Watcher making one of his rare appearances at the city.

Layla had never felt a relief as strong as the one that flooded through her when, gathered in the Amurta’s general room, the Forest Watcher told them that Mister Kaveh was safe and sound and that the perpetrators of the kidnapping had been taken care of. To the faculty with them, the Forest Watcher also explained more or less what had happened, although most of the Operation didn’t pay attention beyond that point.

If it mattered, Layla was pretty sure she overheard something about the Fatui having wanted Mister Kaveh to tinker with the Ruin Golems for them, as well as a few apparatuses related to some recent cases the Matra had dealt with. Little did they know that while yes, Mister Kaveh had belonged to the Kshahrewar, he wasn’t a man who knew about machines.

At least, not that Layla was aware.

According to the report from the Spantamad students who were sent back ahead of the Scribe and the general, Mister Kaveh had only received minor injuries and was in no real danger now that the Fatui had been taken care of. If anything, he was mostly outraged that the Fatui had confused his architectural and design prowess that he was famous for with technological know-how. He reportedly got started on a rant from the moment he was extracted from captivity all the way to the Bimarstan branch in the nearby Caravan Ribat, to which the Scribe did nothing but just nod and drag him along with the help of the Mahamata.

Not to make light of the situation, but with the relief of everything having turned out fine, the Operation homed in on the detail that apparently the Scribe spent the night on a chair by Mister Kaveh’s bedside at the Bimarstan branch. If the students were to be believed, as the Scribe was sending them off ahead, the first thing he did upon Mister Kaveh waking up was talk him down and scold him.

Again, if the students were to be believed, as they were departing, they overheard Mister Kaveh retort that well, actually, if he had a dog accompanying him, maybe none of that would’ve happened.

It wasn’t long after The Incident that a trial was finally held for the Sages imprisoned product of the liberation of Lesser Lord Kusanali. There was a small poll and debate held within the Akademiya (that had nothing to do with the Operation, mind you), on who would be the ones participating. The Scribe and the remaining Sages were a given, of course; along with the General Mahamatra and Lesser Lord Kusanali herself. Regrettably, the Traveler wasn’t in Sumeru to participate, so the Mahamata turned their sights on the faculty and alumni in search for someone else.

Somehow, the General Mahamatra suggested Mister Kaveh participate. Who wasn’t even present for that meeting – the only reason the core team found out was because one of the faculty members who attended was in on the secret with them.

By the time the polls came out for the alumni to decide who should be the spokesperson of those who had been more or less collateral damage from the whole ordeal, Mister Kaveh was front and center as one of the options.

Layla was pretty sure it was a mix between curiosity and actual conviction on the part of the alumni what got the man elected. To be fair, the Kshahrewar vouched for his oratory abilities. But, also to be fair, the Kshahrewar had a tendency to just be Like That when it came to Mister Kaveh. The more time went on, the more Layla hated how the General Mahamatra had been oddly on-point with his name for the Operation.

So Mister Kaveh got elected, without him even knowing. Reportedly, the Scribe made a face like he had no idea what to do with the situation, but agreed to let him know when the trial would take place.

Five days went by in a flash. As an advanced student, Layla was allowed to attend the trial along with fellow Akademiya alumni and a sizable group of citizens.

There was nothing remarkable about the first half of the trial. Each person that went up to speak did so quickly and concisely, and the ex-Sages would always talk back with an excuse or two. Rather standard practice when it came to dealing with them, but it was a bit nerve-wracking to watch the trial essentially run in circles. Ultimately they all knew that, should Lesser Lord Kusanali simply say so, the ex-Sages would be officially imprisoned without further ado.

So it was clear the point of the trial was not to decide on if they should be punished or not. Rather, it seemed like a public exposition of their crimes, and like they were being forced to reckon with what they had done and what the people affected had to say about it.

Until the Scribe called Mister Kaveh up to the witness stand. Everyone from the Operation in the public (which were plenty) held back exasperated sighs at the stink eye Mister Kaveh shot the Scribe as he walked up to the podium.

Layla sometimes wished she could forget what followed. 

It was evident something was about to befall them when, from his spot to the side of the tribunes, the General Mahamatra smirked in anticipation. The unease such a sight unearthed in the public was doubled when the first thing Mister Kaveh did upon reaching the witness stand was to give the ex-Sages an annoyed look.

Seeing Mister Kaveh looking annoyed was nothing new. It was basically his default expression, to an extent, whenever it came to dealing with the Scribe. Which meant it was the face he usually wore whenever he was in Akademiya grounds.

So everyone from the alumni wing of the public was plenty familiar with what ‘annoyance’ looked like on Mister Kaveh.

Hence why such a look caught them so off-guard. It was annoyance, yes, but it was different.

It was cold. Dispassionate. 

Strange. It looked like it belonged far more on the Scribe’s face than it did on Mister Kaveh’s.

What followed was the most bone-chilling lecture Layla had ever heard from the man. She had heard Kshahrewar students who had taken courses with him say that he could be terrifying if he wanted to, but had never really given much thought to such claims.

Looking at the Kshahrewar students seated with her among the public, however, made it evident that whatever had qualified as ‘terrifying’ before was nothing like what they were seeing now. Or at least, not to such an extent.

From then on, the trial all but turned into one giant lecture by Mister Kaveh, both public, defense, prosecution, and judge rendered silent as the chosen witness just went off from the stand for almost twenty minutes straight. He talked the sages down like they were absolute idiots and not a group of men who had controlled an entire nation for generations.

What was worse, Lesser Lord Kusanali smiled quietly from the defense wing throughout the entire rant. Like she was… proud. It didn’t help that the General Mahamatra also looked amused by the blatant display of disgust from Mister Kaveh’s part.

The man held back no punches. He called them out on absolutely everything, running them through their own plan like deaf toddlers and explaining each and every step where they’d failed, or where they’d messed up, or where they’d committed a crime. Which was basically the whole way through, and he kept no details to himself, laying it all out for everyone to see. The public grew increasingly disturbed, some of the things being exposed having been kept quiet until then to save them the metal toll.

Twenty minutes in, and when Layla had started to question how Mister Kaveh knew so much, considering he hadn’t even been in Sumeru when it all happened; the ex-Sages began to try and fight back just like they had done with all the others.

But this time, they weren’t even given a chance. Everything they tried to bring up was immediately shut down before they could even formulate their argument.

The most horrifying thing was that, as soon as they started talking back, it wasn’t Mister Kaveh the one who interrupted them to finish their phrase and shut it down,

It was the Scribe.

Sitting ever-so-calmly and confident from his spot by Lesser Lord Kusanali, the Scribe hadn’t spoken as an actual witness throughout the entire trial until that moment, limiting himself to moving the proceedings along and quietly observing.

But as soon as Azar tried to argue back to Mister Kaveh, the Scribe cut in, finished his whole phrase in his place, and immediately rebuked it with a watertight argument.

To which Mister Kaveh then just nodded, agreeing with the Scribe, and continued along with his lecture like nothing was out of the ordinary.

And then it happened again. And again the Scribe shot the ex-Sage down, provided a perfect counter-argument, and let Mister Kaveh continue barrelling on.

One by one, Layla and the alumni began turning their attention with a mixture of horror and shock towards the General Mahamatra.

Who was looking at them with an expression that said ‘see? I told you.’

Omni-Darshan Fathers, scolding the ex-Sages like they were actual children.  

When Mister Kaveh finally left the witness stand with a small disappointed huff and his chin up, he had been up there for a whole hour. A whole horrifying hour, after which the public was left just shy of picking up pitchforks and lynching the ex-Sages on the spot.

Layla sat there, wondering what the prior hour of the trial had even been for if this was put at the end. It had been like- like poking your opponent with your finger a handful of times before decking them in the face, killing them instantly.

The day after the trial and after Azar and company had been officially sentenced for their crimes against Sumeru and its Archon, Nilou tracked down a Rtawahist student from the core team and gave an urgent report.

According to the student, Nilou and the Scribe had met for a drink at the Puspa Café after the trial had wrapped up and the Mahamata had changed shifts, clocking the Scribe out. Nilou had supposedly suggested they get something nice to eat so that the Scribe may relax after the headache that must’ve been managing the logistical nightmare of the trial and its now official aftermath, but the Scribe had declined, saying he had to go home and get dinner started anyway. Nilou had then inquired about Mister Kaveh, half to know how he was doing after The Incident and half to see if she could get something interesting out of it.

The Scribe had then reportedly sighed, visibly tired, and told Nilou not to mention it, that he was already dreading it.

After prodding some more, Nilou somehow got out of the Scribe that the latter half of the trial (Mister Kaveh’s lecture) had been planned in advance.

It wasn’t that Mister Kaveh had been reading off a script, no. Apparently, everyone who would have been partaking in the trial had been aware it would take a giant punch to the face for the ex-Sages to really be put out of commission. So the original plan had been to have everyone say their pieces first, and then put the Scribe’s long exposition of their crimes step by step at the end. But they had quickly realized that having the Scribe be the one to deliver the final blow would only work against them, as the Scribe had been directly involved in the liberation and thus the ex-Sages not only expected him to come for their throats but would also play the “well you’re emotionally invested from your participation therefore your argument is invalid” card.

Hence the poll they ran, on who would be the spokesperson for those who hadn’t been directly involved but were nonetheless affected.

And when Mister Kaveh was chosen, it left the Scribe with no choice but to plead with him to agree to the plan. The reason why Mister Kaveh had known practically everything despite not having been present was because the Scribe had told him everything. Mister Kaveh had then made his speech on his own, but not before reportedly taking ‘far too long’ to be convinced of even participating.

Apparently, the Scribe had ultimately gotten Mister Kaveh to agree to participate by giving in on the pet ordeal and conceding to the architect’s demand to get him a dog.

Which.

Explained the Scribe’s look of dread that morning, at least.

And as if Nilou’s word needed any confirming, the Operation quickly got word from their network of Mister Kaveh being sighted with a forest-patrol hound on his way out to a job by Vimara Village.

After everything had finally settled down, the Kshahrewar students from the Operation called for a meeting in the Rtawahist general room. They informed the team that they had an upcoming academic trip led by Mister Kaveh on architecture based on nature’s design or something, Layla couldn’t quite remember. Point being, they were going to leave the city for about a week, going down to the Avidya forest and then up towards Mawtiyima Forest before returning to the Akademiya. Apparently they would be accompanied by the Forest Watcher for the first leg of their trip, but once they left Gandharva Ville for the north they would be alone with Mister Kaveh. 

Which was not ideal, given the faculty staff and the Matra were not yet entirely too comfortable with leaving their herd unprotected.

So the students were planning on asking Mister Kaveh to bring someone else with them.

Obviously, the Scribe. But they would disguise it as a poll, and everyone would anonymously submit their pick.

If this worked, they promised to continuously report back via Amurta students stationed in the neighboring areas.

Literally nobody opposed this plan, and so ‘Mission School Trip’ was a go.

Somehow, they managed to get Mister Kaveh to convince the Scribe to come with them, which was not how anyone had expected this would play out. Apparently, the Scribe had been inundated with work post-trial that had only now cleared up, and Mister Kaveh jumped on the opportunity to mess with him by saying they were going to take him on a ‘relaxation trip’ knowing damn well they were going to chaperone a bunch of first-grade Kshahrewar students.

The Scribe must’ve been either really tired or truly exhausted, because he agreed to come along.

What followed was a testament of the levels of desperation the core team was reaching.

Akademiya students worked hard, but Kshahrewar first-graders worked harder.

They got to work immediately. Their day one report confirmed Mister Kaveh now owned a dog – not only that, but the dog answered to both him and the Scribe. They also noted that while the subjects continued to be as insufferable as always with each other, there were plenty of instances of them once again agreeing and tag-teaming on the students.

The Amurta student that brought back that report added that the team looked like they hated literally everything about Mister Kaveh and the Scribe ganging up on them, calling it embarrassing and humiliating and frustrating and “truly, a strict-parents experience”; but that they would power through it for the sake of the Operation.

Layla wouldn’t forget their sacrifice.

Their day two report noted that, while Mister Kaveh had enlisted the help of the Forest Watcher for the day and thus the class was carried out between the two of them; the Scribe trailing behind them was sighted teaching discipline tricks to the dog. 

They also acquired the dog’s name.

It was Princess.

Several students reported feeling ashamed of themselves by their own reactions to hearing the Scribe continuously murmur that word throughout the day behind the group as he trained the dog.

They didn’t get who named the dog, and they noted that honestly, they kind of didn’t want to.

Day three saw no report, as it came together with day four due to a lack of Amurta students on the leg between Gandharva Ville and Mawtiyima Forest. Day four was brought to the city instead by an assistant of Lord Sangemah Bay who had crossed paths with the class on their way to the city from the Palace of Alcazarzaray nearby and agreed to deliver the letters.

Day three and four, then, reported that someone somehow managed to get two of their tents torn by rishboland tigers, which forced everyone to re-organize,

Which in turn resulted in the students managing to spread themselves out through the remaining tents with enough precision to leave only one for their chaperones.

It came at the cost of getting lectured by Mister Kaveh on being more careful with their stuff when traveling and the Scribe giving them ‘not mad just disappointed’ stares as he served them their food, but they reported it being worth it.

Kind of. Most of them were unable to eat much of anything, given it seemed as though the Scribe added extra spice to spite them. Even Mister Kaveh refused to eat, glaring daggers at the other man.

One particular student reported that being chaperoned by those two felt like they were being adopted against their will, whatever that was supposed to mean.

Day five was the big day, and it did come from an Amurta student this time. It was so big it was prefaced by indications to gather the core team before reading the rest of the report.

So, feeling like she wanted to go back to sleep, Layla sat in the Rtawahist general room with the rest of the core team as Ashk read aloud to them.

They’d done it.

Someone, somehow, had gotten an answer out of one of them.

Supposedly, they convinced their chaperones to stay out late to stargaze, and so they split them up by having a group take the Scribe off to a nearby cliff to stargaze (for supervision, of course) while the few rest remained with Mister Kaveh by the campfire.

There, someone had the brilliant idea of starting a little fake gossip round. Between the students only at first but with Mister Kaveh very much there, someone started with news of an actual pair of students from Spantamad who’d started dating not too long ago. Carrying on with the topic, the students began asking each other and gossiping about those things, before deciding they had made the conversation look natural enough and dragged their subjects into it.

They first asked if he knew if the Scribe had someone like that, if he was dating someone. Predictably, Mister Kaveh first scoffed, before revealing that no, of course not. That man was married to his work. He wasn’t sure he even had any friends other than maybe Nilou, and had never seen him with anyone else. He also said to trust him, he’d know, he had to put up with him constantly.

Riding on the wave of their excitement of getting an actual answer and completely forgetting most of them had subscribed to the theory that they were married, they asked if he had anyone of the sort, if he was dating someone. Some girl with balls of steel even went ahead and said he must, since everyone knows Mister Kaveh is handsome and very smart, and not as married to his work as the Scribe is.

Mister Kaveh had then laughed, said his looks were for himself only, then mellowed out to answer that no, he was also single; before expertly dodging all possible subsequent questions by then turning to the dog and saying that it didn’t matter, anyway, because he had Princess.

The Kshahrewar students stressed in their reports that nobody had felt as though Mister Kaveh had been lying. They’d know. The man was a terrible liar (even if he was good at misdirection and acting, somehow). So that this was it. That was the truth. They weren’t dating.

So the silence that settled over the Rtawahist general room after Ashk had finished reading was… something.

It didn’t last long.

Everyone present broke into cheers, jumping off their seating spots (those who’d been sat) and turning to hug each other, causing a general ruckus. Layla remained in her seat and tried to avoid people bumping into her, inwardly sighing with relief that maybe this was finally over.

They broke the news through the Operation’s network immediately, stating that they had confirmed their subjects were, in fact, not dating.

With the answer now in their hands and the truth revealed, the Rtawahist students began their tallying of the bets and figuring out the logistics to distribute the money. As the bet-keeping assistant, Layla saw herself swamped with ‘work’ for the following couple of days before the class trip returned.

She really should’ve seen this coming. Sleepwalker Layla didn’t even come for her rescue on this one.

Sumeru City thrived with quiet celebration for a couple of days, managing to tone things down by the time the class trip and the subjects in question returned.

After that, things went back to normal. The General Mahamatra dropped by to claim his share of the bet, giving them the weirdest ‘good work’ any student had ever gotten in their lives, and then leaving. The Scribe returned to his duties of administering the Mahamata, and Mister Kaveh was scheduled to teach another course, to the delight of the Kshahrewar.

But something continued to nag at the back of Layla’s head. 

With Mister Kaveh coming in and out of Akademiya grounds for the next months that lasted his course, Layla quietly observed from the side. She observed the Scribe. Observed their usual spats, and how they felt… different. Less scathing. More… like it was routine now. There was a lot more ‘Mister Kaveh being cocky’ and ‘the Scribe being a little shit’ now than just two guys arguing down the hall. Now you’d even hear students giggling quietly whenever they caught sight of another scene.

She caught them more often having genuine debates in the House of Daena. Like. Civil discussions now. Which were hard to follow, as Layla didn’t understand much of what they talked about, but still.

Now. If Layla had been asked The Phrase now, and not all those weeks ago;

Now she would’ve told you yes. They do argue like an old married couple. Now she could absolutely see it. Not only did they argue like one, they behaved like an old married couple. Both between themselves and towards the students as well. 

The reason why you’d hear distant giggling whenever they argued was because you’d be dead to get caught in the middle. Nobody wanted to face what the Kshahrewar students had reportedly faced after genuinely accidentally trapping them inside their (circumstantially forcefully) shared tent for three hours on the last day of their trip.

…

Layla wondered if something had happened then.

She didn’t follow that line of thinking for too long. Or at least tried not to.

But it haunted her.

It haunted her where she continued to observe them from a distance. Where she began noticing things. Like how the Scribe had… cat hairs, stuck at the heels of boots and on some spots in his cape. Like how Mister Kaveh also had cat hairs on his pants. 

Like how the Scribe no longer looked miffed whenever he had his lunchbox breakfast.

Like how she once saw Mister Kaveh walk up to the Scribe in the Grand Bazaar and not begin desperately demanding keys, instead leaning over the spices as well in contemplation. They did get into an argument over them, though. But it was quiet. The dog was there, sitting between them, patiently waiting like a perfectly trained dog would.

Then one morning, Layla woke up sideways on her bed, still in her day clothes, with her Kamera laid next to her.

Already dreading whatever she was going to find in the contents of the device, she printed out the pictures.

Stared at them.

And then slowly, scared, put them in the hearth.

The image taken from outside a window of Mister Kaveh sitting at a paper-strewn table with a cat atop a pile of books and the Scribe leaning down and kissing him where he stood by his side slowly crumpled into cinders between her firewood.

Layla slept in for the day.