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“How to escape a universe: seek out soft spots!”
A loose change of unidentifiable clothes, water, a copy of the pale lodge’s pamphlets for interuniversal travel. Forty-five gold and twenty shrilling, the former will have to be exchanged. Jamil glanced over the assortment of things now lying atop his bed, completing another run through the mental list of things he will immediately need. The sun’s early rays began to lethargically climb inside his room, illuminating his crumpled bedsheets. In spite of his best efforts, Jamil did not sleep a wink the night before.
Ah. How could he have forgotten?
Jamil opened his bedside drawer, fishing around the carefully orchestrated mess inside of it. It didn’t take long to locate the auroral stone which lies at the bottom. A gemstone of the sandstone golem, found in its anima vessel, one that will be his ticket out.
Because if one thing was clear, it was that Jamil could not stay here anymore.
“Even the most rigid of planar boundaries possess porous points that may be used as egress.”
While taking any of the real valuables may run the risk of adding ‘thief’ to the Asim’s already extensive list of reasons to send out an inter galactic search party for him, some of Kalim's ‘cheaper’ gifts can be pawned off at the bazaarium when - if - he makes it to patchwork. Jamil grabbed his messenger bag and began to clear it out. The usual collection of potions and herbs he carried for emergency antidote brewing will not be needed travelling alone, as the risk of being poisoned drops drastically without the presence of his usual companion.
He threw everything on top of his bed inside of the now almost empty bag. Even still, he has to pack light - if his things are noticeably heavier than what he usually brings, that might set someone off, and then his whole operation will be intercepted.
One is to be mindful of things not to take. Things such as his audio player, which he often used to listen to broadcasts, are to be left behind. Anything that he had on him too often could be tracked. Anything with an internet connection could also be tracked. The boy glimpsed over the object one last time before unceremoniously throwing it out the window. Instantly realizing the foolishness of that decision, Jamil poked his head out the window to assure no one saw him destroy one of his most beloved things.
This is where everything had begun, is it not? Jamil had been considering running away for months now, reading and listening to pale lodge’s broadcasts and guides on both this realm and others to arm himself with information.
________________________
Jamil was sitting in his bed, relishing in the rare break he got from his duties as an attendant. His legs ached after a whole day spent cooking, cleaning, and making sure Kalim doesn’t get killed either by his own hands or by those of an enemy. Rain had passed earlier in the day, a rarity in the shifting sands, but he could not bring himself to empty the cup full of water beneath the hole in his ceiling. He took to glaring at the cup instead. As though his gaze would evaporate the water, or repair his ceiling.
Engaging in this staring contest was when he overheard murmurs from beneath his window stall. Careful not to make a single sound that could alert the gossips, he lifted himself and crept over for better hearing.
Low and behold, the young women in waiting on the Asim wives were sitting in a circle, whispering in hushed tones, no less about him.
“Have you not heard? Jamil had been the one selected.”
“Oh, to think. Why is it that the Djinn of the Lamp chose to bestow his blessing upon the Viper boy of all people.”
“Oh please, should it have been you? The kid has served the family for as long as he’s been alive, his loyalty and intellect are unmatched - if anyone in our generation is to be given such an honor, it would have no doubt been him.”
Suddenly the quiet felt like a physical sheen on reality and Jamil could hear his heartbeat inside of his ears. Of course, he had known of the Djinn’s ‘blessings’, bestowed upon only the most unfortunate of souls. The blessing cleared the receiver of all their ambition, desire, and wants save for serving its beloved creations and living in its aspects. The only reason one could ever call it a blessing was the recipient's sudden lack of complaint and appearance of special power, albeit he was unsure what exactly that entailed.
Nevertheless, Jamil did not wish to find out. He had been able to lounge around before, but if he did not act here and now, his fate would be sealed.
If he wanted to curtail the Asim’s influence over his life, he had to run off now.
“To find a soft spot in a universe’s interspatial membrane, seek out a forgotten or abandoned place that others have not actively perceived for a long period of time.”
Jamil straightened out his clothes; grabbed his bag; and put on the most neutral, tired face he could muster while doing this and stepped out into the hallway.
Carpets with bright yet intricate weaving covered every wall of the mansion. In spite of having lived here all sixteen years of his life, Jamil could never quite get used to the flashbang that hit him every time he left his room. The sun had woken up in full, shimmering the golden decorum covering the halls head to toe. With how they take every chance possible to flaunt their wealth, the Asims would have long been robbed by now had crossing their oath not been an active death sentence.
Jamil’s hands tightened around the handle of his bag, his fingers pressing into where the ancient leather had pulled away from the handle and dug into his skin. The contents of his stomach had suddenly grown weightless, as though up in deep space. He could physically feel them tighten, as though to stay and not erupt from inside of him. This is it. He is actually going to do this.
Breathe in, pause. Out.
“Where are you going so early?”
Jamil’s stomach fell. There he was, standing in the doorway. His fluffy ivory hair and ever-present smile threatened to impinge upon everything pleasant in Jamil’s life. Like it always did. The young Asim heir greeted him with a sleepy yet cheery expression as Jamil cursed under his breath.
“Oh, hey Kalim. Did not see you there. I just need to grab a couple things from the market for dinner tonight, we ran out.”
He has always been a master at lying impromptu, especially to Kalim. As he spoke, he made sure to gaze Kalim straight in the eye - the honest look on his face is to dispel any and all doubts the heir could conjure up.
“At this hour? Just what do you need?”
Kalim’s tone was upbeat and light hearted, but something about it seemed off to Jamil. Did he suspect him, or somehow deduce his intent of running away just like this?
No way Kalim suspects him. Kalim, who could not read a room to literally save his life. Kalim, who foolishly thought they were friends. Kalim, who did not accept food unless it came from his hands. How will he even eat if Jamil is gone?
Nope, this is not the direction his thoughts should be going. Jamil cannot, will not afford to have second thoughts. If he was going to do this, he had to be certain - and certain he is. Himself, his family - none of it can matter anymore. He is through following the commands of others. He is going to pass through the canyon walls and pass through the archway of torrid sandstone into a universe where the Asims and their damn Djinn deity would not even think to search.
He is going to be free.
If all goes according to plan, in the best case scenario…
“Well, okay then, it’s probably important. See you later Jamil!”
He will never have to see Kalim again.
“...see you, yes.”
Jamil nodded his head and began walking towards his pre-established destination again. That was a close one.
“Oh, and by the way!”
All of a sudden, Kalim grabbed him by the hand, with palms as dry and weathered as the clay from which his family had been sculpted by the Djinn all those generations ago. Something cold and metallic had been slipped into Jamil’s own hand, something that felt a lot like coins. When Jamil looked at what it actually was, he saw an additional five gold.
“Since you are going down to the market anyway, could you get me some chestnuts? Please?"
Jamil looked down at the coins. The fact Kalim would even ask means he expects him to come back. And to have been honest about visiting the store, no less. And besides, additional money has yet to hurt anyone, right.
“Fine, fine… I’ll get going now.”
Jamil vaguely pulled his hand away, and Kalim took the que to let go.
“See you soon!”
Jamil bowed his head, a bit deeper this time, and made off further down the hallway. He was careful to avoid bumping into the ‘blessed’ one from his father’s generation, a husk of a mortal being he deeply disliked thinking about. It did not take long to reach the exit, a set of palace doors in contrast to which titans looked like mortal men. The timer has begun, and he could not spare a single of the seconds remaining.
“Next, still your mind and attempt to sense the exact location of the interuniversal exchange point, where the energies of the two universes are most closely mingling.”
The sky up above was such a beautiful blue. Wisps of cirrus clouds up above stretched across it, reflecting all the nuances of the pink and blue sand beneath his feet. Alas, Jamil could not afford to stop and admire the scenery.
In front of him was a stone archway, a quarter day’s walk away from the Asim mansion. He could have picked a byway that was a bit closer, but one that is a bit further ahead would make pursuit a bit more difficult. The trade off is that at least someone at the mansion has noticed his absence, and statistically that person is probably Kalim.
Perhaps it was the hot air playing tricks on him, but it was as though the stone itself was moving.
He grabbed the spare jacket from his bag and threw it on. He held off on doing it up until now due to the weather, but leaving his arms exposed in another universe ran the risk of someone else recognizing the Djinn’s markings and handing him over. His mouth felt completely dry.
“Once located, stand upon the exchange point, and utter your chosen traversal incantation to pass through the soft spot to the new universe on the other side.”
Now, the most crucial part. After coming all this way, he could simply no longer turn back. Inhale, exhale - for this to work, being calm as summers day is maybe the most crucial part. Jamil held his things tight and took a step forward. Then another. And then another. He stood atop the platform now.
He unzipped his bag and removed the gemstone. Each ray of light emitted by their burning star reflected so bright it nearly blinded him. Jamil quickly dropped it down, praying it did not shatter. It did not, just his luck.
Now then.
Jamil shut his eyes, careful not to let any more light from the shifting sands enter his eyes. He lifted up his arm, opening his hand to the still air, “Oh, the whims of this empty land of passage, I cede to you my body and mind. Take me to patchwork, the central city of exchange not too dissimilar. Snake Charmer.”
At first, nothing happened. Jamil felt really awkward if anything, his choice of traversal inaction was he now realized a bit cringe. To his defense, it was picked when he was 12 and the coolness of it was about the last thing on his mind when that was happening.
All of a sudden, he felt a gust of wind from seemingly no direction blow onto just his face. Within a fraction of a second, the intensity of the wind went from a small gust to what felt like a raging sandstorm. In this whirling kaleidoscope, the slithering sound came from everywhere and nowhere at once. He could feel something scaly yet slimy peruse at his feet, forcing him still as the wind began to push him forward.
He took another step. And one more.
The slithering sound grew louder and the wind opulent, pushing him to walk forward without fall. Placing one foot affront the other grew more difficult by the moment.
And then, everything got quiet again. Jamil counted down to five before opening his eyes again. He stood in the middle of a busy street. Carts bustling, people talking. He collided with a Trekkeltarn in his stupor, half murmured out an apology and quickly left the middle of the road. The air was filthy, the collection of mechanical sounds was unbearable, he is undeniably in patchwork. It took everything in Jamil not to combust with manic joy right here and now, in the middle of a busy patchwork city.
For he is finally free.