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Summary
"I have a confession to make." He pulled his ankles closer to his body, sitting cross-legged towards the dusk of the sun. "My name is Jamil Viper, seventeen years old. Two months ago, I had overblotted due to my spite of Kalim Al-asim. By now, everything is resolved. We have returned to normal, where nothing has ever been different from how it was before my plan was set in motion.
The rage I held, naturally, hasn’t died one bit either. Though that was to be expected, as I have gotten stuck in the same place I was before."
His eyes traced Kalim, who was diving down with his carpet, skillfully swaying from side to side, almost dancing.
"There is no more scheming, no more intricate plans to overthrow and take power, only prayer. Prayer on the tiniest accidents with the biggest consequences. They help me cope, making sure I won’t do anything crazy, so surely they must be helpful. Just making up scenarios, calms me, like if sadism was a drug."