[ yuu, the young man says. kaveh thinks, they are being granted something that neither of them perhaps deserves. a key to a lock. a piece of a soul. kaveh's heart aches. it's this city, the way it takes everything sacred to one another, and drags it out in the open. the mortifying ordeal of being known, but one that has been forced open by the dredges of acceptability. kaveh won't accept it. he cannot. but this is a name that has been offered, and kaveh thinks -

it's a lovely name.

kaveh lowers his head. he says, in turn: ]

You were as much love as we could create with our hands, and your journey has prepared you to hold it in your hands. If the last thing I can do is offer my heart for your love, then I'll give it to you.

[ kaveh looks to the knife. he looks to alhaitham, and then to the wanderer.

the briefest, rueful tug of his lips: ] ... may I ask for help in that regard, however? I ask one of you to take on the most bitter of tasks. I am sorry.