Work Text:
Qifrey sat outside the Atelier, his shoulder throbbing. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, the girls studying in the main building as Olruggio tinkered with something in his tower. Every fifteen minutes or so, a burst of smoke came from the tower, followed by a loud “I’m okay!”
The sky was a brilliant blue, with soft, puffy clouds. The grass was cool, the breeze fresh, and the faint birdsong clear. It was pieceful, perfect, and so undeniably wrong.
A silverwood seed pulsed inside Qifrey, a reminder that the happiness he had found was balanced on a knife’s edge. If only Qifrey had been a bit faster at the Serpantback cave. Then maybe he could have caught that catlike Brimhat, or defeated the other one, stopped that kid from being cursed, gotten more information and—
“Master Qifrey!” Coco ran out of the Atelier, the worn cobblestones lighting purple beneath her feet. She held a notebook and quill in her hand, a bright and eager expression on her face. “Agott wanted to ask you how to make those ribbons out of water.”
Qifrey recalled the sparkling sculptures of water he had conjured a couple weeks ago, before the Serpent’s Cave. He had meant to teach the girls, but once again, the Brimhats had once again gotten in the way.
“I would have figured it out eventually.” Agott stared at the ground, slightly sullen.
Shoving his thoughts aside, Qifrey turned his attention to the girls. “If you’d like, I could point you in the right direction.”
Stiffly, Agott nodded. “That would be ideal.”
“The ribbons are a tricky bit of spellwork. There’s nothing wrong with coming to someone else for help.” Qifrey said, well aware of what a hypocrite he was being. “But do tell me what you’re thinking of.”
“These.” Coco shoved a few sketches at Qifrey. “I thought we could combine a water and a wind rune.”
“But combining water and wind like that proved unstable.” Agott frowned.
“The circles would need to be drawn closer together. Perhaps I could demonst” Qifrey winced slightly as he began taking out his pen, his shoulder protesting the motion. “Her—-”
“Oh no you don’t!” Olruggio stuck his head out of the tower window, his hat and beard slightly singed. Shooting Qifrey a pointed look, he yelled “Unless he wants to lose the use of his arm, Qifrey is supposed to be resting.”
Qifrey hastily shoved the pen and notebook back into his sleeve. Defeated, he turned to the girls. “In that case, I believe Riche knows. The water ribbons are remarkably similar to her crystal ones.”
“Where is she?”
“I believe she said she was going to study today.”
“If she’s busy studying, then she might not have time to help us. But if she does, we should thank her.” Coco frowned before grinning from ear to ear. “I know! I can bake her a pie!”
“You just want an excuse to make pie.” Agott muttered.
“Riche doesn’t mind showing Agott her magic.” Riche poked her head out of the Atelier door. “Pie or not. Riche has been listening to your conversation.”
“Riche would also like it if Agott could give her thoughts on another spell.” Riche took out her notepad. Completing the glyph, she conjured crystal ribbons to hang in the air. “Not that Riche will definitely take them.”
“I shall.” Agott smiled. “Thank you.”
“Then it’s settled!” Coco clapped her hands. “What flavor pies?”
“Ooh!” Tetia called from the stairs, a water buoy in her hands. “Did I hear someone say pie?”
“We did.” Riche called back. “Coco’s making one.”
“Then I’ll get the flour!” Leaving the buoy to float in midair, Tetia ran off towards the pantry. Coco ran after her, stopping briefly only to pick up a basket of berries. Riche led the way towards the workshops on the second floor, Agott following with sure footsteps.
A faint smile made its way to Qifrey’s face. The girls were learning to rely on each other, share their knowledge and solve each others’ problems. That loyalty and comradeship would serve them well against the Brimhats.
A tinge of fear and sadness filled Qifrey. Despite what they had gone through, the four of them had been so light and carefree. He got the sense that they existed in a world separate from him, a world for the living who weren’t missing one eye.
Perhaps he was selfish for thinking he could keep these warm, lazy days filled with their laughter. But he didn’t know what he would do when he inevitably lost them.
Sighing, Qifrey rose. Though the girls were growing up quickly, the odds of them breaking something while doing magic was still fairly high.
Before he could make it more than a few steps, he was interrupted by Olruggio.
“And where do you think you’re going?!” Olruggio poked his head out of his tower.
Qifrey shrugged, and immediately regretted it as pain shot through his shoulder. “To make sure they don’t burn the water?”
Olruggio let out a snort. “Right. Out of all the witches in Karoon and the Assembly, you’re the only person I’ve ever known to burn water.”
“That was intentional.” Qifrey muttered. They had just decided to open the Atelier together, and were brainstorming ways to combine their specialties. Somehow, Qifrey had created scorched-black, burning-hot, water. “Inventions like the steam dragon don’t come out of nowhere, you know.”
“Intentional, my ass.” Olruggio rolled his eyes. When he fixed his gaze on Qifrey, his expression was still light, yet held an undercurrent of seriousness. “Either way, the girls can take care of themselves for a day. You get some rest.”
“Rest” Qifrey repeated slowly, tasting the word as if it were a foreign concept. There was no point in resting, not when the more comfortable he was, the closer he was to losing it all. Rest was time not spent hunting the Brimhats, or growing stronger, more able to protect the Atelier, or erase the silverwood in his heart.
Noticing his shift in mood, Olruggio fixed Qifrey with a piercing stare. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” Qifrey forced the corners of his lips into a small smile.
“You sure?” Olruggio gave Qifrey the I don’t believe you glance.
“ No.” Qifrey thought. He desperately wanted to tell Olruggio everything. The silverwood, his worsening left eye, his fears that the Brimhats would come back, that they would take more than his right eye, his guilt at bringing the girls into his chase, his lack of guilt at involving them—
Qifrey nodded. “I’m fine.”
This way, he wouldn’t have to erase his best friend’s memory again .
For a heart-stopping second, Olruggio’s eyes lingered on him, Qifrey terrified and hopeful that Olruggio would see through him. Then the moment passed, and Olruggio sighed, and turned away.
“If you ever aren’t, don’t hesitate to call. My window’s always open.”
“I won’t.”
Qifrey's promise rang hollow even to himself, but Olruggio retreated back into his tower nonetheless.
Bitter relief washed through Qifrey as laughter and shouts echoed from the kitchen as Coco and Tetia baked dessert. Whooshing and banging echoed from the upper floors, Riche and Agate practicing. A smaller explosion came from Olruggio’s tower, alongside another “I’m okay!”
Closing his eyes, Qifrey leaned back.
The Atelier was like the sun on a subzero winter day. Just bright enough to illuminate his path, but enough not to fully dispel the cold, wet, feeling in his heart.
At least in winter, what fell from the skies wasn’t water, but snow. It was freezing, miserable, but unable to drown him. If he never allowed himself to feel warmth, love the atelier, then he would never fear the soft drip drip drip of water on stone, never fear returning to the coffin because he had never lived.
Yet Qifrey knew that line of reasoning was flawed. Just because something would disappear didn’t make it not worth cherishing. Coco’s tenacious optimism, Agete’s pragmatism, Riche’s love for magic, Tetia’s endless cheer, Olruggio’s kindness—They were plenty fulfilling.
Still, part of Qifrey felt missing, incomplete like the hole bored into his eye socket and memories. Who had he been, before he had been found by Beldaruit and the others? Who could he have been if the Brimhats had never experimented on him? Would he be happier? Would he be sadder? Or would he be exactly the same?
Even if the Brimhats had never touched on him, would he feel whole? Or was this emptiness, this subtle feeling that something was off, an intrinsic part that could never be excised or replaced?
Qifrey had spent many a night lying awake, pondering, wondering whether to chase the past or the future. Whether to hunt down the Brimhats, and destroy himself in the process, or devote his time to the Atelier, and allow himself to be unmade.
Either way, if Qifrey allowed himself to feel safe for even a moment, the silverwood in his heart would consume him.