Within the center of the City of Scholars, a majestic building sits upon the branches of the divine tree. With pathways that were built to navigate through the tree's large branches, it connected the lower part of the city towards the most prestigious learning institution in all of Teyvat, renowned for their collection of texts regarding the arcane arts and historical records.
The Sumeru Akademiya.
While functioning as an educational institute, it is also responsible for the overall governance of Sumeru. Much of the city's day-to-day affairs are managed by the Akademiya through the use of the Akasha System, which manages knowledge as a form of resource that would be distributed towards the populace which they can access via their own Akasha Terminal.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the Akasha System is the vein in which the lifeblood of the city, knowledge, runs through. It is because of that fact that it's to no one's surprise how heavily regulated the information within the system is.
Such a marvelous system, created by none other than the former Dendro Archon Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. Nowadays, such a divine piece of technology has become a necessity for the people of Sumeru. Take a walk down the streets of the city and you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who is not wearing their Akasha Terminal.
On a certain pathway located on the eastern side of the Akademiya is a place called Razan Garden, a place many students and researchers gather to wind down, a place to relax, forgetting for a moment the mountain of study materials and research paper that they would inevitably return to.
In front of a pond filled with lotuses of all kinds, are two students leaning against the railing, looking towards the horizon. One of them who currently has his head down, is a student of the Rtawahist school, indicated by the blue color of the emblem attached to his cap. The other one, the one who has his hand on top of the Rtawahist student's shoulder, belongs to the school of Amurta, indicated by the green emblem pinned on the cap he's currently holding in his right hand.
"I want to die."
"Mhm. You say that every time and I've yet to see you act on it. Not that I'm encouraging you or anything." Realizing how bad his words can be interpreted, the Amurta student cleared his throat. "But seriously, what is it this time Irfaan?"
"I was caught sleeping in the middle of the lecture."
"So? It happens to all of us, hardly a matter worth dying over."
"...it was Grand Sage Azar's lecture, Nawaar."
"...oh."
Getting caught falling asleep can be bad enough on its own depending on the lecturer, but Azar? With how much of a stuck-up he can be, Nawaar can only pray for his friend's continued existence. Though even that might not be enough.
"Must be harsh."
"Harsh doesn't even begin to explain what I had to go through."
"What did he do?" Wrapping an arm around his friend's shoulders, Nawaar tried his best to give him some semblance of comfort. "I've heard of his rather… infamous behavior, but surely, he wouldn't do anything too horrible, right?"
"He'd constantly single me out for the rest of the lecture, any part of the lecture that required demonstration was done by me, and now I have an 'exclusive' assignment that would probably take me weeks to complete!"
Nawaar couldn't help but flinch. Those things were bad enough on their own, but combined with Azar's personality? He can see why his dear friend is so spent.
"Yikes. On the bright side though, aren't you pretty good at operating an astrolabe? The demonstration part shouldn't be much of an issue for you, no?"
Despite his friend's unremarkable appearance and his tendency to complain, Irfaan Pahlavi is actually quite the smart student compared to the others within the Rtawahist school. Hell, he'd go as far to say that he's just shy of being called a genius. Though Irfaan would vehemently deny his claim if he were to ever hear of it.
"He made me use an armillary sphere, the old model at that. You know, the one that us students never learn to use and the professors never bothered to teach us how to use? It's a relic, for archon's sake!" Slamming his hands onto the railing, Nawaar can see how frustrated his friend is. "He's messing with me, I know he is! I can practically hear his annoying laughter from the end of the classroom! I just want to finish the day off and go home to see Aisha, is that too much to ask?!"
At this point, Nawaar had learned that, from his friend's previous tirades, that it's better for his friend and his own sake that he remain quiet.
He ended up having to listen to his ravings for a good hour before he calmed down.
"...you okay?"
"Haah… haah… yeah. I think that's everything."
"Good. Because you might want to hurry back. It's getting quite late, you don't want to keep your wife waiting."
"She's not my wife. Not yet, at least."
"As far as I'm concerned, it's only a matter of time."
Letting out a sigh for the umpteenth time, Irfaan straightened his body and fixed his somewhat disheveled clothing before turning towards his best friend. "Thanks for putting up with me, Nawaar."
"Hey, that's what friends are for." Patting his back for the last time, Nawaar picks up the bag that was tied to one of the nearby lamps before bidding his friend goodbye. "See you tomorrow, Irfaan. Try not to piss off the Grand Sage again, yeah?"
"Fuck off."
"I'll take that as a yes."
Waving his hand in return, Irfaan watched as his friend's back got further and further away. Leaning once more towards the railing, the once bright sky has started to turn orange, with nightfall coming not long after.
After making sure that he had calmed down enough, he grabbed his own bag tied to the railings, and, after making sure the papers and astrolabe were in order, slung it over his shoulder and started making his way back home.
It's been four years since he joined the Akademiya and the image he once had of this institution has changed a lot. After experiencing first hand how difficult it was and how terribly monotonous his life is, it's safe to say that the rose-tinted glasses he once wore were practically shattered to pieces.
Walking amidst the gathering of other students from all sorts of Darshan, their loud chatter has practically been present for the entirety of the four years of his daily commute.
Amurta students discussing their latest discovery of marine life form, students of the Spantamad Darshan discussing about the ley line activity within Sumeru, and a group of Harvatat students talking about a certain researcher of theirs that somehow have more contribution for the Kshahrewar school than their own. Curious.
Making his way down towards Treasures Street, Irfaan stopped in front of a house just next to the path leading down towards the market area, the sound of clashing steel can be heard coming from the headquarters of the Corps of Thirty behind him.
The house was a mixture of wood and stone, with a distinct roof shaped like an upside down flower that the majority of the houses in Sumeru has. Knocking thrice on the door as he always does, he waited for the person he's been wanting to meet all day to open it.
"Coming!"
With a slight rattle, the door was unlocked and what greeted him was the familiar white hair of his beloved.
"Ah, finally! I thought you were going to spend the night in the Akademiya library, again."
Aisha Jazani.
It's not an exaggeration to say that she's practically the opposite of Irfaan. Long straight white hair reaching all the way to her back, as opposed to his short messy black hair; her thin frame that makes her look sickly despite being the picture of health, as opposed to his rather stocky body; and her gentle demeanor, always kind and a smile on her face, as opposed to his eternally unchanging expression with the occasional outburst here and there.
Though that last one is specially reserved for people he finds particularly annoying. Azar being a prime example of that.
"When will you stop reminding me of that? It only happened once."
"And that's already one too many."
Taking off his shoes, Irfaan proceeded to hug Aisha, practically melting into her with how much mental fatigue he has.
"Tired?"
"You have no idea."
"Want to talk about it?"
"No, Nawaar already volunteered himself for that."
"Haha!" Letting go of Irfaan, Aisha led him inside and pulled him into the dining room before pulling a chair for him to sit. "It's a mystery to me how he still stuck by you with how troublesome you can be."
"And why are you still here then?"
"Because, despite everything, I find you quite the charming person."
"There. See? Mystery solved."
"Hmph, damn narcissist."
As Aisha makes her way to the kitchen, Irfaan places his bag on the chair next to him, gently taking out his astrolabe before putting some of the documents on the table. One in particular fills him with so much anger, he wouldn't mind giving the Grand Sage an early retirement.
"Alright, wipe that frown off your face, it's time for your favorite."
Carrying a plate of Samosa and a juice made out of Zaytun Peach, Irfaan couldn't help but wonder what he did to deserve someone like her.
"Thanks, Aisha."
"Fufu, no need to thank me for something like this, dear."
With a smile on his face, Irfaan dug in and finished them in record time, much to Aisha's delight.
Despite his tedious life within the Akademiya, returning to this warm place with the one person he loved the most is the one thing that keeps Irfaan Pahlavi going.
Something simple like this is enough to combat the monotony of his life.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Maybe monotony isn't so bad after all…."
Currently, Irfaan is seated on one of the sofas in his living room, waiting impatiently for the birth of his first child.
When he noticed her wife starting to feel sick in the mornings, he wanted to bring her to a doctor straight away, but Aisha shrugged him off, claiming it was nothing and simply went about her day. Though skeptical, seeing his wife out and about, he decided that he was simply being paranoid.
When it starts to persist for weeks on end? Even Aisha has to admit that something was going on.
When the visit to the doctor was over, Irfaan was on a full blown panic, constantly fretting over every single thing, whether it's his wife's morning sickness, him constantly trying to get his wife to move about less, or searching through the entirety of the Akademiya's library for medical advice.
Though Aisha was happy seeing him care for her like this, she wished that he would be a lot less intense about it.
It took both of their parent's visit for Irfaan to finally calm down.
"Calm down, son. You're not going to make it any easier for yourself if you keep acting like that."
"I can't help it. What if something goes wrong?"
"Well, all you can do at this point is pray that they don't."
"Very helpful, father."
Sitting next to him is a man approaching his fifties, with some strands of gray that had started to grow among his shoulder-length black hair. His clean shaven face combined with his looks and his elegant ankle-length gray robe exudes a natural charm that he takes full advantage of as the head of a merchant company.
He is Zaryab Pahlavi, father to Irfaan Pahlavi, and head of the Daria Company, one of the more famous merchant companies in Sumeru, with multiple caravans to his name, delivering a wide range of goods from Port Ormos all the way to Caravan Ribat.
"Well, I was as anxious as you are when I was waiting for you to come out, so who am I to judge?"
"Sigh, you're not really helping my nerves, father."
"Irfaan, it's going to be fine. Your mother knows what she's doing. Besides, the Homayani Family is kind enough to lend one of their personal doctors, so calm down a little."
"I know, I know."
Being the head of a merchant company allowed Zaryab to have connections to the numerous wealthy families within his clientele. One that stands out in particular is the Homayani Family, which is known for being one of if not the wealthiest family in the entirety of Sumeru.
And to have the Homayanis supply one of their doctors for the birth of Irfaan's child speaks volume of how good of a relation the merchant head has with them.
"It's a shame that father-in-law wasn't able to come."
"Quite. Poor Abbas must be sweating buckets with all the problems cropping up in the desert right now."
Aisha's father, Abbas Jazani, is a veteran member of the Corps of Thirty stationed in Caravan Ribat, though sometimes he would visit whenever he was on a mission close to Sumeru.
Currently, with the rampant weapon smuggling towards the Eremites beyond the Wall of Samiel, Abbas is busy trying to track them down and bring back the stolen goods. Though they have a suspicion that the culprits are from the Ayn Al-Ahmar, so far no evidence has been found that would indicate such a thing.
"Look at the bright side, at least Fareena is here to accompany little Aisha." Patting his son's head, Zaryab gently ruffle Irfaan's hair like he would when he was a child. "Two mothers, a couple of midwives, and an experienced doctor. She'll be fine, Irfaan."
Suddenly, a muffled scream was heard coming from the room where Aisha is.
Before Irfaan could stand up, he was grabbed by his father and was pulled back down onto the sofa. "It's starting. You shouldn't disturb them."
Not trusting himself to speak, Irfaan merely nodded in response.
Trying his best to alleviate some of his son's nervousness, Zaryab decided to strike another conversation. Hopefully, it will take his mind off of Aisha's condition. "So. How was the Akademiya? It's been, what, seven years? Are you any closer to graduating?"
"...I wish." Despite his father's blatant attempt at distracting him, Irfaan doesn't mind. He'd take anything that could make him forget the situation he's in. "All I have right now is a pile of rejected manuscripts. Even so, I'm already better off than some of the other students. The stress is getting to some of them and… well, they have their own ways to cope, I suppose."
"Well." Ignoring some of the shouts coming from the nearby room, Zaryab gave his son a side hug. "Just remember, if it ever gets too much, the company will always welcome you. I understand that astrology is your passion, but if it's gotten to the point where your health starts to deteriorate, then it's not worth it, okay?"
"I'll keep that in mind, father."
The two of them continued to chat about Irfaan's time at the Akademiya, whether it was his research, his colleagues, or the one time Nawaar got lost in the forest and had to be rescued by the forest rangers. He could stand to be more aware of his surroundings, Irfaan thought.
Of course, throughout the conversation, the two of them tried their best to ignore the intermittent screaming in the background.
Finally, after hours of excruciating wait, the door to the room was opened.
"You can see her now, Mr. Irfaan."
The moment he was given the go-ahead, Irfaan practically sprints inside the room, accidentally shoving the midwife to the side.
Seeing his son's antics, Zaryab could only sigh. Standing up from the sofa, he calmly makes his way to the midwife before helping her steady herself. "I apologize for my son's behavior. He's very nervous as you can see."
"Haha, it's fine Mr. Pahlavi. It's nothing I haven't seen before."
"Thank you for your understanding."
"No problem. Go ahead, then. I'm sure you yourself are quite eager to see your grandchild, no?"
"Haha, you got me there."
After making sure she's fine, Zaryab makes his way inside the room only to be greeted by the strong smell of herbs.
The other midwife and the Homayani Family doctor are standing close to Aisha's side, with the midwife busying herself with cleaning the dirty sheets, while the doctor is questioning Aisha about her condition.
In one corner of the room is a separate section with a table full of alchemical tools alongside several herbs neatly organized into different types, with the small burner next to them still radiating some heat even after it's used.
Spotting the two women he was looking for, Zaryab makes his way close to them.
"I see that he's still as anxious as he was when the pregnancy was first announced, huh?"
"If I wasn't outside together with him, who knows what would've happened."
The black-haired woman crossed her hands and chuckled in amusement, the side bun her hair is styled to bobbing up and down. "Fufu, you're one to talk."
"No need to remind me, Ayla." Rolling her eyes at her wife's remark, he turns toward the other person leaning against the wall, content with watching their little exchange. "How's little Aisha doing, Fareena?"
"She's fine. The delivery went very well, no complications whatsoever." Pushing herself off the wall, Fareena Davani straightened her white skirt, the long white sleeve of hers fluttering alongside her motion, exposing the black inner clothing covering her entire arm. "Quite the miracle, I'd say. Not that I'm complaining."
"Thank the archons."
While the three of them were conversing, the doctor, after giving Aisha her final dose of medication, told her to take plenty of rest, and proceeded to pack her equipment.
"How is my daughter, doctor?"
Pushing her glasses with her index finger, the doctor carefully wraps the assortments of herbs before gently placing each of her alchemical equipment back into its case. "You have no need to worry, Mrs. Davani, I've given her the medicine she needs and as long as she doesn't unnecessarily push herself, she should be fine."
"I see. Thank you, doctor."
"Just doing my job." With a click, she lifted up her case and attached the herbal wrap to one of the straps before bidding her goodbye. "I've left some additional medication on the table. Make sure she only takes them when she starts to feel pain in her abdominal area."
"Of course, doctor."
Nodding her head, she walks towards the door before stopping. "Oh, one more thing." Looking back towards the three, she turns towards Zaryab before giving him a smile. "The family head sends his regards, Mr. Pahlavi. He hopes that you'll visit alongside your grandson in the future."
"Of course. Please convey my gratitude to him for lending me such a skilled doctor. I heard that the Homayani heir is currently expecting his own firstborn, no?"
"Ahaha, you heard correctly. The family head is busy fretting over it all day. But no need to worry, my absence hardly makes that much of a difference."
"With how wealthy he is, I would imagine so. No offense, doctor."
"None taken. Have a nice day, Mr. Pahlavi."
With a final farewell, the doctor left the house. The midwives, after carefully removing the sheets placed on top of the original one, left the room to dispose of it, leaving only five people inside.
Hearing the cry of the baby starting to die down, the three parents approached the side of the bed.
"Look how cute he is."
"Hmm, hmm. I'm sure he'll one day grow to be just as handsome as I am."
"Alright, Zaryab, stop tooting your own horn."
"What? It's true! Tell her, Ayla!"
"You two better stop this before the baby starts crying again."
Looking at their parents quarrel, Irfaan and Aisha could only shake their heads in exasperation.
Sitting next to her wife, Irfaan gently caressed his son, the simple action filling his body with endless amounts of warmth. "Our son… our precious little son…."
"Mhm." Giving him a weak nod, Aisha leans towards her husband's shoulder, the fatigue of giving birth starting to take its toll on her. "Congratulations on being a father, Irfaan."
"Haha, I could say the same to you. How's it like knowing you're now a mother?"
"It's scary." Lifting her head up, she looked straight into her beloved's eyes. "But with you by my side? There's nothing for me to be afraid of."
Kissing the top of Aisha's head, Irfaan couldn't help the wide smile forming on his face.
"Irfaan. Aisha."
Hearing their names called, the two of them turned towards their parents.
"Have you thought of a name?"
"Of course. We've been brainstorming for quite some time."
Looking at her son reaching his little hands forward, she extended her finger, which he grasped with all his might, eliciting a cute giggle from the baby.
"We've got just the name for our little angel."