@dhahabibi liked to a fatui!kaveh starter.
the light of cast by the light of kshahrewar has dimmed since his death.
a terrible fate for a young man who had been so consumed by creating an enduring legacy he drove himself to bankruptcy. though most would never mention it in polite company, as it is in poor taste to speak ill of the dead, behind closed doors his name is little more than a joke or a curt insult. though they will often remark on the beauty of his works, the damage his reputation suffered had never fully recovered.
scam artist. charlatan. fraud.
that he was murdered is known, but by who is never spoken of. they assume debt collectors. a grisly and deserved fate... not a message to all those who wished to oppose the wishes of the sages, for all those who dared to love the godling that was kept for them.
few know the truth. the role the sages played in the man's death. how his good intentions were twisted back upon him. fewer still witnessed those final moments, the grainy wireframe and crackling audio recorded by his most beloved creation. mehrak determined to clear kaveh's name, to prove that it was not the debt that he shouldered without stumbling.
you can blame the grand sage and your false god for your fate.
few knew that in those final moments he remained resolute. fighting with everything he had - unbreakable even as they destroyed his hands, his eyes, his mind.
fewer still knew that there had been no body to place in the ground. that it had disappeared in the aftermath, stolen by the man who would later hold the very nation hostage. once or twice the stone denoting his empty grave has been defaced, the accusations of stealing in lesser lord kusanali's name carrying far further from the truth. worsening now that the love for her had begun to swell, as though those who had scorned their efforts had a right to be angry.
it would anger him, if the man himself remembered any of this. though he could not say he cared much for sumeru, the loneliness this land was a bone deep ache.
you can blame the grand sage and your false god for your fate.
whether that was the current one or the former was hard to say. so much of his early recovery was a blur. il dottore had painstakingly pieced him back together, breathing new life into a cold corpse... or so he was told. the machine at his temple kept his autonomic nervous system functioning, his heart beating, his lungs breathing. it carried the load that his mind could no longer handle, and in exchange, his mind carried all the recorded knowledge of this land.
the least he could do was carry out the tsaritsa's will.
with all that had occurred within fontaine, it felt wise to return to the land of dendro to see what secrets its archon was hiding. if one god was lying to her people (to herself) then it felt inevitable that others were too... and where better to begin his investigation than the ruins of their fallen gods?
aaru village is little more than a dot on the map, but it's a good first stop before he sets out to his intended destination - king deshret's ruins. the people barely glance at the mask or hood, chocking his attire up to an overprepared scholar out to face the wilds for the first time. they're friendly enough that he doesn't mind stopping to chat, asking if anything is needed in the desert. his mount is packed and he is ready to go when he hears the crowd begin to grow restless.
the grand sage is visiting, someone says, and he feels his blood run cold in his veins.
you can blame the grand sage and your false god for your fate.
he stops, pulling his foot from the stirrup and turning towards the entrance of the village. to the long, winding path that leads from its humble bridge to the mountain pass.
