Chapter Text
About a month before graduation, Jamil received a sudden text from his parents- his mother specifically.
He felt a pit in his stomach form as he saw her name appear on his phone.
He had thoroughly enjoyed his last semester at NRC, he got to see more of the world outside of campus, and it was because of those experiences that he confidently shared with his sister where he wanted to visit first once he was finally free.
He meant it when he said ‘finally free,’ he had the whole plan laid out. He’d leave Kalim a binder of crucial instructions, cut all contact momentarily, and backpack around Twisted Wonderland for however long he saw fit.
This was a desire he shared with very few people, namely Najma.
It was about nine at night when he got the text. He spent a good ten minutes debating whether he should open it to read the whole thing, and he regretted it the moment he did.
‘Jamil-
Najma told us what you were planning to do after graduation. You are under no circumstances allowed to abandon us or your work.
Master Asim has told us his plans for you and Kalim once you graduate. You are expected to serve here as head of inventory, primary servant, and advisor. All of this will greatly increase your pay as well, and all four of us can continue to live in comfort and safety.
If you do not do this, you put all of us in grave danger, out of work, and out of a place to live.
The Asims have been very giving, and it saddens me that you seem to have no respect for that.
It hurts me that you would so carelessly plan to desert us. We will talk about this more at graduation.
Mom’
With just a few hurtful words, that little bit of hope he managed to hold onto for himself was utterly squandered.
It was almost poetic at this point, the way his chances at freedom were continuously stolen away from him. He didn’t have it as a child, nor as an NRC student, and not even now did he seem to have any in his future.
So, with no choice but to choose between relinquishing himself to a life of servitude or facing the abysmal unknown…Jamil chose the latter.
It was morbid, but he thought of his death a lot.
Death constantly surrounded him. He always knew he was going to die younger than most, most likely through protecting Kalim, but he hadn’t expected it to come so soon and by his own hand.
He grappled with which ways to do it; what would give him the least likely chance of getting saved? He’d have to act fast and within the night to avoid being noticed.
He wrote just two notes, one for Najma and one for Kalim.
Kalim’s note took…Longer than expected.
As he wrote down recipes, helpful tips, and whole instructions on how to function in one’s everyday life, one page turned into two and then two into four. He jammed ten pages for Kalim into an envelope and placed it right next to his letter for Najma on his bed.
About an hour and a half later, he was ready.
He chose poison because he knew it well enough. He knew which kind he was going to use too. It was one he learned in his years of acting as a servant and also a taste-tester for Kalim. In fact, it was a variant of the same poison that almost killed him all those years ago.
He remembered how it made him feel, and that was a lack of any feeling. He was told the poisoning was horrific and painful, but he truly couldn’t remember a single thing from the incident.
As sure as it was going to be painful, he couldn’t remember a thing, even leading to death.
He snuck into the potion’s lab to create it with materials he stole from the locked cabinets and greenhouse. Once the poison was brewed he didn’t drink it immediately, there was one last thing he wanted to do before he faced his end…
He cooked in the kitchen, creating a dish that he loved so dearly and yearned for so frequently. This curry he made would surely be his last, and he wasn’t going to spoil it with poison.
He took one bite, then another and another, savoring all of it as the last time he would taste his own cooking or any cooking at all.
It made him a bit sad that he would ruin the taste of curry with a foul-tasting poison, so he savored what he could.
Jamil had wanted to live a happier life, he truly did. This would surely dishonor the Vipers but at this point, he hardly cared. Though concern for his sister poked through his apathy, a sad yearning to live a life he never got to creeped into his heavy heart. But it would be far sadder to live a life where he could never escape and never be free.
There was no one around to hear any last words, so he didn’t speak any.
He drank the poison and, with his last sentient thought, reminisced on how the bitterness was almost familiar, and with that, he thought no more…
“Kalim, you need to wake up this instant!” A voice pulled him out of a dream, followed by a snappy whack against his back.
Kalim shot out of bed, arms up in a defensive position. Thankfully, the person who stood by his bedside was Professor Crewel.
Kalim rubbed his eyes, was he still dreaming? For his professor to be in his bedroom so early in the morning…
“There’s an emergency and I need you to follow me,” Crewel said with a firm but wavering voice.
Kalim didn’t question it. He stood out of bed in his night clothes and threw on a sweater and shoes, following Crewel whose presence was already drawing other dorm members out of their rooms.
Jamil’s door was left wide open…And there were unknown men opening drawers, removing the blankets from his bed, and prodding all of his personal belongings.
Kalim came to a slow stop, eyes fixed on the sight…Crewel grabbed his arm and forced him to keep moving.
Panic was finally starting to settle. No words needed to be exchanged for Kalim to start to understand what was going on.
He had seen this situation so many times before, he had been in it before. What was running rampant in his mind now was concerns over where Jamil was. Was he okay? What happened? Why did it happen?
He bargained in his mind, hoping what he feared wasn’t true, denying his previous anxieties and calling them ridiculous. There’s no way there’d be an assassin at their school. There was no way Jamil would be in danger; he was so certain of that until now.
When Crewel brought him onto campus, then into the main building, and finally the infirmary. Kalim no longer struggled to walk. He ran straight into a crowd of people- Headmage, ghosts, and doctors alike.
Practically everyone in charge of in infirmary and then some were present. Even Ruggie stood anxiously at the side, fiddling with his oversized sleeves.
Kalim was bound to have plenty of questions, but none came to mind just yet. His mind was focused on one thing entirely- and when he saw Jamil lying in that infirmary bed, Kalim heard and saw nothing else.
Something was horribly wrong; that much was evident in how deathly ill Jamil looked. The color drained from his skin…Before, Kalim had seen him fight against a never-ending fever; now, it seemed Jamil was too cold and unmoving.
The first thing Kalim did without even thinking was check for Jamil’s pulse and his breathing. It was weak and slow, but it was there.
Normally this would be the part when Kalim burst into tears. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, and he was always prone to strong displays of emotions.
Even though inside he was terrified, he had to put on a brave face…Because this has happened before and he wanted answers.
“Who did this to him?” Was the first thing he asked.
“That’s…A complicated matter,” The college doctor said, “We’ve investigated the scene, and the only culprit…Is Jamil himself.”
Those were words Kalim wasn’t expecting to hear. He wanted to hear the name of the assassin, he wanted them apprehended so that he could look them in the eyes and demand an antidote. He wanted to tell that person that if they wanted Kalim they would have to go for him themselves and leave Jamil out of it.
To hear that this mysterious person, this person he’s already held all his rage back from, was somehow Jamil. It didn’t make sense.
“I don’t understand,” Kalim told them.
“I went into the kitchen to make a midnight snack and I found him lying on the ground,” Ruggie spoke up, “Whatever it was he took, he swallowed the whole thing. I had to force him to vomit it out, but it seemed mostly digested. I’ve seen kids eat some pretty bad stuff out of hunger back home…But what came out looked nothing like that.”
“I discovered someone tampered with my potion’s lab, some ingredients were missing, and a beaker was found in pieces in the kitchen,” Crewel pitched in.
“The barrier around the school makes it impossible for dangerous individuals to break in,” Crowley added.
Kalim was hearing all these points tossed at him, but none of them were making sense. They all sounded impossible.
“Are you trying to tell me that he…Poisoned himself?” Kalim struggled to even piece those two words together, “That’s not possible, he wouldn’t do that. Why would he do that?”
“There were notes left in his room,” the doctor offered, holding two envelopes in his hand, “one is addressed to you.”
Kalim snatched the letter out of the doctor’s hand and tore it open as if his life depended on it. He pulled out every paper, searching and hoping for an answer.
“How to preheat the oven-
Step 1- Remove the racks you will not be using. Do this before you turn the oven on.
Step 2- Set the oven temperature to what the recipe requires. “
Huh..?
Kalim searched for more, flipping back and forth between pages.
“How to make Manakeesh-“
“How to wash clothes-“
“How to tie turban-“
Instructions, it was all instructions. Not one bit of Jamil was left behind on these pages. He didn’t even say goodbye.
“This other one is addressed to his sister.” The doctor allowed Kalim to have it.
Both letters were already open and used for research ahead of time. Kalim hadn’t thought about how impolite it was to read Jamil’s private thoughts for only his sister. He was desperate.
“Najma,
I’m sorry. By the time you read this letter, I’ll most definitely be dead. I need you to know that none of this is your fault. I love you. You were one of the only few people who cared about me and made me feel like a person.
I know our parents forced you to tell them about my plans to leave. I don’t blame you for telling them.
My death is not your burden, so please don’t ever treat it that way.
I didn’t want my life to end the way it has, but I had no other choice. I’ve done my part for 20 years. My whole life I’ve been doing everything our parents wanted from me, I’ve served the Asims with every fiber of my being, and I am so, so tired.
I can’t go on being a servant with no freedom. That isn’t a life worth living.
I wanted to do so much more. I wanted to see the world, be my own person, and experience all kinds of new and amazing things. I wanted to see you get married, maybe even be an uncle. I wanted to be there for you.
I’m so sorry for that. If our parents try to control your life as they have mine, then I’m sorry. If the Asims punish our family and leave them out of work, then I’m sorry for that too. I’m sorry for whatever happens after this; I can’t do it anymore.
I don’t know if I’ll rest in peace, but at least I’ll be resting.
If you can, make sure Kalim eats safely even after I’m gone.
I love you,
Jamil.”
Kalim had only just started to grasp the depths of Jamil’s despair in their second year at NRC, but he was under the impression that things were beginning to get better.
Jamil had enjoyed his final year of NRC so far, he was focusing on his plans for the future. Kalim thought that Jamil was communicating better with him, that Jamil could come to him with any problem and Kalim would definitely listen and try to help him solve it.
Kalim thought they were real friends this time.
Even worse than hiding his despair and overblotting as he had before, this hidden despair and accumulated into an attempt at his own life. The details surrounding it churned in Kalim’s mind.
Jamil’s parents. Kalim’s family. Lack of control. No freedom. Regret. Misery.
One thing at a time…What was most important was Jamil himself.
“W-What’s his condition?” Kalim asked, his voice unintentionally quivering.
“Thanks to Ruggie Bucchi’s quick thinking and being at the right moment at the right time, Jamil Viper is still alive,” The doctor started positively, “But unfortunately, the reason we called you here so early is because I don’t think he’s going to get much better than this. In fact, he’s already bound to deteriorate.”
“What do you mean?” Kalim questioned, anger and defensiveness rising in his voice.
“My signature spell allows me to speed up the healing process of living creatures,” the doctor explained, “and Professor Crewel has worked tirelessly at creating the antidote of the poison Jamil Viper took. Both healing and antidote were administered but we’ve seen no signs of recovery. Between the time Ruggie Bucchi found him and when he took the poison…I’d guess that he was left without help for around a half hour, perhaps even an hour.”
Kalim had been blissfully unaware during that time.
“I’m afraid irreversible damage has been done. Either he’ll deteriorate further from this point or he’ll remain in the condition he is now,” The doctor said sympathetically, “That’s why we’ve called you. He is employed by your family, it is your decision what steps to take next. There’s nothing more I can do for him here. I’m sorry.”
It was his decision. Jamil’s fleeting life was in his hands.
It almost didn’t seem right. This was the very thing Jamil had expressed feeling helpless towards- a lack of control over his own life, his life belonging to the Asims.
But under no circumstances was Kalim ever going to give up on Jamil.
“I’m taking him home,” Kalim decided. “I’ve got family doctors. They’re good people. Some of them have helped Jamil before.”
“…If that is what you think is best,” The doctor agreed, “Headmage?”
“You have my permission to go…But I do hope you’ll be back to finish the last of the semester. It would be a shame if you didn’t graduate.” Crowley said, priorities and skewed as ever.
Kalim ignored the adults and turned to Ruggie. He took Ruggie’s hand and clasped it firmly in his own.
“Thank you so much for saving him.” Kalim expressed his gratitude.
Ruggie chuckled awkwardly, “Don’t mention it. As the doc said, I just happened to be there at the right time. You take care of him and yourself. I’ll see you soon.”
Ruggie was the little bit of positivity Kalim needed to hold himself together at this moment. Ruggie, like both Kalim and Jamil, faced incredible amounts of hardship in his youth. He believed in Jamil just as Kalim did, and that was enough.
The hardest thing Kalim ever had to do was call everyone he knew one by one. He started with Jamil’s family, that was the hardest part, and they deserved to knew first.
Kalim had called Jamil’s mother before after his overblot during their second year. She must’ve been accustomed to receiving news about Jamil from Kalim and answered, asking if her son had done anything rash.
She was, unfortunately, right.
This time, Kalim couldn’t grant her any relief. He couldn’t say Jamil was okay or that he was safe. He was neither of those things.
Kalim had heard her sob once before, but it was somehow worse this time.
Jamil’s father had taken over the call while his mother spiraled, asking for more information and answers. Kalim said what he could and then moved on to Najma, who had most certainly clued into what was happening because of her parent’s reactions.
Kalim called his father next, explained what happened, and his father promised to handle the rest. It may had been early in the morning where they were, but a car was arranged to pick them up immediately once they went through the mirror portals and their family doctor was setting up the recovery room as they spoke.
Most of NRC was still asleep, so the only people to send them off was the doctor, Headmage, and Ruggie.
Kalim thanked them profusely for the levitating gurney and promised to return it as soon as he could.
With a meek wave, he was gone and brought into the cold of Silk City just before the sun rose.
Instead of just a chauffeur, Kalim’s father emerged from the passenger seat and threw his arms around Kalim.
It was then that Kalim freely sobbed.
“Baba…” he managed to say between short and quick breaths, “I’m going to save him.”
It was a declaration rather than a plea. When he was a child, he begged those around him to do what they could to bring his friend back from the brink of death.
Now that he was older, he knew it was up to him.