Alhaitham was a smart man. Everybody knew that. He was a graduate from the Akademia, after all. He could probably solve every question you may have. He could probably end or start wars with the correct wording at the correct time. People praised him for his thinking and for his unmovable self, since he seemed to be the very perfect image of professionalism.

And yet... Alhaitham didn't feel smart enough.

Sure, he could read between the lines and give a simple answer to complicated questions. He could finish a tower of thick books in one free afternoon, and then write a ten-page-long essay on each of them, and whip out a connection between each and every book. But he didn't feel smart enough. There were so many things he had failed at. He often failed at understanding others, he failed to see his own harm, and he failed to read between his own lines. He sometimes lacked tact and empathy, and that led him into trouble.

Like losing the only person who meant the world to him, because of his own pride.