A Mirage of Victory

Ch 4: The Ascension of a Peasant

"I want to know your story."

Jafar considered declining on the spot, but... Mirage had shared with him. It was only fair he did the same.

He exhaled slowly before he began.

"When I was a boy, I grew up with little else but the clothes on my back." Similar to Aladdin, but Jafar wouldn't compare himself to that wretched boy... especially not aloud.

"I was born into a farmer family on the outskirts of Agrabah. But I was always too scrawny for my father's liking. A farmer needed muscle to handle the heavy workload. And besides, farm work never interested me. I was more of an intellectual from the very start. I stole books and scrolls, and taught myself to read. Any chance I got, I would learn about the world around me and beyond. My father never appreciated that."

"You had ambitions and a desire for knowledge," Mirage assured. "A lowly farmer could never understand."

And it was Mirage's opinion that intellect mattered much more than muscle if you wanted to get far in this world. She hated that Jafar had been underestimated like that... just like she had been.

Jafar nodded, stroking his twisted beard. "I knew that if I could find a way out of this poverty, that I could make something of myself. I knew I had potential to become great. But I was stuck there, forced to endure my father's mistreatment. I noticed that I was being served less food at dinner than my brothers, and even my sister.

Despite that and despite my dreams, I tried to do my part on the farm and make him proud. But it was never enough.

A parrot I found at the bazaar was my only friend. As I learned to read, I also taught him to speak. We became inseparable. I'd freed him from a cage, and he knew I was 'caged' too... and he was my only support as my father grew more and more impatient with me."

Mirage knew just the parrot he was speaking of. But she dared not interrupt.

"When a plague struck Agrabah, tensions were even higher. All of Agrabah, my family especially, grew desperate." Jafar drew in a deep breath. "My father decided the best thing would be to get rid of his son. I was useless, and a disappointment, and just another mouth to feed. So...... he sold me into slavery."

"No..." Mirage shook her head, horrified and angry. "That mouse-heart!"

Jafar lowered his head, trying to disguise the pain in his voice. "Yes..." he sighed. "I was collected the following morning. I was devastated, and I had no idea where I was being taken."

He perked up, old excitement sparking in his eyes. "But as fate would have it, I was to be a servant in the palace! Many had died of the plague, leaving openings to be filled. This tragedy had been a blessing in disguise!"

"A small victory indeed," Mirage commented with a meek smile. "Your destiny was in the making."

"My high spirits were soon extinguished, though. I was mocked by the nobles and guards... and even other servants! They called me names, based on my humble origins, or how I looked. They disrespected me day after day, and they never listened to any of the ideas I had. Idiots, the lot of them!" Jafar slammed his fist against the table in fury.

Mirage winced at Jafar's outburst of anger. Normally she would have scolded him for daring to do that in her lair, but... she was angry too. Angry for him.

"They cared for nothing but their status and their riches. I swore... that I would make them pay when I rose to power.

And the Sultan..." Jafar sneered with disgust. "He was the most dim-witted of them all. Naive and blind to the plights the kingdom faced. Surely, Agrabah deserved better. Me. But at least the Sultan seemed to recognize my intellect. As I rose through the ranks, it was easy enough to earn his trust. I was eventually appointed vizier after many years of working in the palace.

When I had time alone, I explored arcane lore and practiced alchemy, desperate for a way to usurp the throne. I researched magical artifacts, and set out to find them. During my expeditions, I recovered a cobra-headed staff that I could use to hypnotize the Sultan... and later on, one half of a golden scarab."

"The key to the Cave of Wonders..." Mirage whispered.

"And so began my quest for the lamp. I trust you know the rest."

Mirage pondered all of this for a moment before offering her perspective.

"You suffered through horrible neglect and humiliation, Jafar. But you should... take pride in how far you've come." Her words seemed hesitant, but genuine.

Jafar didn't know how to react to that at all. But he felt... understood.

For a while after, neither villain spoke. They took the time to reflect. They mourned their losses and cursed their troubled pasts... and moreover, they sympathized with each other.

Sympathy was an odd and foreign emotion to experience, for both Jafar and Mirage. But now that they knew each other's stories and had been vulnerable, they'd begun to trust. And they realized they could possibly become more than just allies.

They could be kindred spirits.

"I think that's quite enough for today." Mirage suddenly broke the silence. She sighed and stood, and collected their dishes.

"We'll start formulating a plan soon. For now, we rest. I'll show you to your room."