Chapter Text
“I think I've killed a man.”
Jamil said to himself.
Well—not just any man, but the son of the King, the heir to the Asim fortune, the sun around which his entire universe had been forced to orbit. As he stood before the roaring furnace in the belly of the estate, the heat became a physical weight, pressing against his skin like the years of servitude he could no longer endure. The fire crackled—a hungry, mindless thing—devouring the paper trail of a life lived in the shadows of another.
He was feeding the flames. One by one, the letters disappeared into the fire—slowly, almost carefully, as if destruction itself required respect. Kalim’s letters. Words that should no longer exist, written by a man who no longer had the right to speak at all.
They spoke of ordinary things, of warmth stretched across distance, of a habit Kalim never seemed to abandon no matter how far apart they were. Small, careless kindnesses. The kind that pretended distance could not rot what it touched.
But Kalim was dead, and no other man is guilty of such an act but him.
And there was no purpose in preserving echoes for someone who could no longer answer them.
The first parchment curls, the ink dancing before it vanishes:
Jamil Viper
123 Land of Scalding Sands
Wherever you may be :)
Kalim Al-Asim
Please open
Dear Jamil,
I was looking for you again today. You seem to have disappeared!, and no one could tell me where you went. I even asked the kitchen staff, but they just smiled like they knew something I didn’t. You always do that, you know? Slip away so quietly that it feels like the room changes without me noticing. It’s strange, because everything feels… different when you’re not there. Louder, somehow. Messier. I don’t like it very much.
You should have seen the courtyard this afternoon—the sun was so bright it almost hurt to look at, and the tiles were warm enough that I thought they might burn through my shoes. I wanted to show you how the light hit the fountains, the way it made the water look like it was made of glass. It reminded me of something you once said about how light bends, though I didn’t really understand it at the time. I still don’t, actually. You always explain things better when you’re there. It’s easier when you’re the one telling me.
I tried to practice on my own again, like you told me to. The steps, the forms, the things you’ve repeated so many times I should know them by now. But I kept getting them wrong. I know you say it’s fine, that I’ll get it eventually, but it doesn’t feel fine when you’re not there to correct me. It just feels… incomplete. Like I’m doing everything almost right, but not quite. I think I rely on you too much for that, don’t I?
Sincerly,
Kalim!
Haha! I'm not done writing actually.
I find it very odd not being able to see you today. It’s funny, I was thinking earlier about how long you’ve been with me. I can’t actually remember a time when you weren’t there, standing just behind me, fixing things before I even realize they’re wrong.
Sometimes I wonder what I’d do if you weren’t there at all. Not just for a day, but really gone. The thought feels wrong, like trying to imagine the sun not rising. Everything would just… stop, wouldn’t it? ... Well nevermind. You don’t have to answer that. I don’t like thinking about it either.
Anyway, you should come find me later. I’ll be on the balcony tonight. The sky’s supposed to be clear, and I remember you pointing out the constellations last time. I didn’t memorize them properly, so you’ll have to show me again. You always get that look when you’re explaining things—like you forget everything else for a moment. I like that. Come up when you’re done with whatever you’re doing. Don’t take too long, alright? I’ll be waiting.
Finally,
Kalim Al-Asim
.
Jamil Viper
Night Raven College
Scarabia Dormitory
Kalim Al-Asim
Please open
Dear Jamil,
WOW. I only just heard actually LIKE A LITERAL DAY AFTER! I can’t believe I didn’t hear it sooner!! That you’ve gone to Night Raven College. Why didn’t you tell me? I was so confused when you suddenly disappeared, I thought something had happened to you. I even had people looking for you because I was worried, and then Father told me you were sent away for your studies.
I feel relieved now, but also kind of silly for not knowing. I should’ve realized that if you were gone so suddenly, it must’ve been something important like this. I sometimes wonder why you'd always do that, you know? Like you take everything so seriously that you forget other people might also care about what happens to you. I wish you would’ve told me yourself instead of me finding out like this, but… I’m glad. I’m really glad for you.
Night Raven College sounds amazing. Father said it’s one of the best schools for magic, and honestly, that makes sense—you’ve always been incredible at everything you do. I knew you’d end up somewhere like that someday. Still, it feels strange knowing you’re not here in the palace anymore. Things are a little quieter without you. Not bad quiet, just… different. I hope you’re settling in well. I hope you’re eating properly too—you always forget that part when you’re busy. Write back when you can, okay? I want to hear everything.
Sincerly,
Kalim Al-Asim
Dear Jamil,
A month since you started studying there, what's it like in NRC? It’s been a while since your last reply, but I’m going to keep writing anyway. I know you’re busy there, so I don’t want to bother you too much—but I also don’t want to just stop talking to you. That would feel strange. Like losing you twice.
I heard from Najma that you’re doing really well there. I’m not surprised at all. You were always the type to adapt quickly, even when things were difficult. I’m proud of you. I hope you’re proud of yourself too, even if you don’t say it out loud.
Things here are the same as always. A little too quiet sometimes. I keep thinking I hear you giving instructions somewhere nearby, but then I turn around and remember you’re not here. It’s funny how quickly I got used to your presence without realizing it. I guess I took that for granted. Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m still here. So write when you can, okay? Even if it’s rare. Even if it’s short. I’ll read everything.
Finally,
Kalim Al-Asim
.
Jamil Viper
Night Raven College
Scarabia Dormitory
Kalim Al-Asim
Please open
Dear Jamil,
I got it!! I finally got my letter of invitation to Night Raven College! I’m so happy I think I read it like ten times just to make sure it was real. I even ran to show Father right away and I almost dropped it on the way because I was too excited to hold it properly. I can’t believe it! I’m actually going to the same school as you!
It’s funny though… I thought it would’ve come earlier? Enrollment was 2 months ago and a lot of the other students already seemed to know about their acceptance prior to that, so I was a little confused when mine didn’t arrive. I asked Father about it and he said something about delays in the process, so I guess that makes sense. Still, it feels a little strange, but I’m not really worried about it now since it finally came. You didn’t reply to my last letter, so I was a little worried again at first… but I told myself you’re probably just really busy with your studies. You always get so focused that you forget to write back sometimes. I get it! Still, I hope you’re doing okay. I keep writing anyway because it feels weird not to talk to you.
I’m really excited, Jamil. I keep thinking about it—what it’ll be like there, what classes will be like, what kind of people we’ll meet! Isn't it so exciting? We'll be together again! It's really like fate... Haha, it seems that you'll always be there for me and I'll be there for you so we won’t feel lost in life... that makes me feel better. I’ll try to find you as soon as I arrive, okay? Wait for me!
Sincerly,
Kalim Al-Asim
The fire turned the letters into grey flakes, drifting upward into the flue until even their shape could no longer be recognized. It was strange how easily a life reduced itself to carbon, how something once held, read, and answered could become weightless ash in less than a moment.
For years, Jamil had been the architect of Kalim safety, the silent guardian of his joy. He curated Kalim’s world so perfectly that Kalim never once had to recognize it as confinement—for Jamil, it had always been the cage. He had been the shadow that made Kalim’s light appear brighter, and yet shadows had a way of deepening when the sun refused to set.
He found himself thinking about freedom, not as a word but as a condition. Was it simply the ability to walk away, or was it the silence that followed when one no longer had to anticipate another person’s heartbeat? Society spoke of liberty as a right, but for a servant it became something more unstable—almost metaphysical. To be free was to become unclaimed. To be free was to exist without someone waiting to be caught when they fell. And so, in a way that felt disturbingly rational, what he had done was not born of hatred, but of a desperate, violent need to exist in a vacuum. To see whether he remained when Kalim did not.
The heat of the furnace pressed closer now, turning the room into something almost sanctified. A sanctuary of reduction. A place where the version of him who had moved the hand, who had watched the aftermath with a detached, clinical clarity, and the version standing here now could finally collapse into the same point—no longer divided by guilt or justification, but unified by absence.
The heavy oak door at the top of the stairs groaned, then shuddered under a massive blow. The sound echoed through the stone chamber, shattering the silence left behind by burning letters.
Jamil did not move. He did not reach for a weapon.
The door was forced open with a violent crash. Light from the hallway spilled in—cold, clinical, alien against the furnace’s amber glow. Royal guards, clad in the crimson and gold of the Asim crest, flooded the threshold. Spears leveled. Faces set in rigid, righteous fury.
“Jamil Viper!” the captain shouted, his voice striking the walls and rebounding through the chamber. “By order of the Crown, you are under arrest for the murder of the High Heir!”
Jamil turned slowly. His hands remained empty. His expression did not shift.
There was sweat on their brows. A faint tremor in their grip. Fear—subtle but present. Not of a weapon, but of him. Of what he represented: the servant who had stopped saying yes.
“Do not even think of running again,” the captain warned, stepping forward as the shackles clinked at his belt. “The first time was a fluke of the desert winds. Now the entire nation is awake. Every gate is barred. Every oasis guarded. There is nowhere left in this world for a ghost to hide.”
Jamil’s gaze drifted back to the furnace. The last ember flickered, then died, collapsing into ash.
He looked back at them.
“I won't be running,” he said quietly.
A pause.
“After all, I led you here.”