Chapter Text
The closer three o’clock neared, the antsier Qifrey seemed to get. He was seated on the couch, his leg bouncing up and down so much that it bothered the other occupant on the other end.
“Qifrey!” Olruggio had finally had enough of the shaking and grabbed his partner’s knee, “You’re shakin’ the damn couch!”
“Sorry!” Qifrey quickly said, “It’s just—”
A gentle knock rang through the atelier, and both men stilled. “Do you think it’s her?” Qifrey asked as they both stood up.
“Only one way to find out,” Olruggio grinned, “Go on, professor.”
Qifrey blushed and swatted him away, “Oh, you stop that.”
The pair made their way to the front door, with Olruggio staying some distance away enough to give the new professor and apprentice some space. Qifrey reached his hand, steadying himself and steeling his nerves before grabbing the doorknob and twisting it, pushing the door open to see an older woman holding a large black suitcase. Behind her, the carriage bearing the Arklaum crest waited. For a moment, confusion washed over his mind, then a little head of black hair peeked from behind the figure. Looking equally nervous as he was, the little girl hid behind a woman who seemingly served the Arklaum family as a maid.
“Now, now, young lady,” the older woman says, “This here is your professor, don’t be shy.”
“...Hello,” Agott hesitantly said, moving into full view. She was holding a small suitcase, a deep brown color with the emblem of the Arklaum family embroidered onto it, perhaps filled with her personal belongings. “I am Agott,” she introduces herself with a bow, “Agott of House Arklaum, daughter of Chief Librarian Adina.”
Graceful, polished, as if rehearsed over and over again. Witches never subscribed to the concept of monarchy, but in terms of wealth, power, and prestige, the Arklaums are the closest thing to nobles that witch society ever has. They’re one of the few bloodlines of witches that bear a last name, a name of the original witch that helped create the creed all witches abide by, further signifying their power. Young Arklaums often trained under their parents, becoming their apprentices, among other witches who passed the scrutiny of the family. Many young witches hope to be trained by a senior member of the family, but few— if any — are ever accepted.
Her request to be trained under Qifrey, then, was a surprise to both the new professor and his watchful eye. Especially since she was the only daughter of the current Head Librarian at the Tower of Tomes. Qifrey remembers the conversation he and Olruggio had some time ago, how the little Arklaum was accused of plagiarism. Olruggio’s source of this rumor couldn’t clarify the validity of this claim, but seeing the little girl now, he understands that it wasn’t her who chose to come here. Usually, parents or family members take their children to the professors, but this girl was delegated to a maid, as if she weren’t someone important to them. She was exiled.
Anger begins to bubble up in Qifrey’s chest. How dare they turn their back on their own? How could they banish this small child to the middle of nowhere? What kind of family— a loud thud snapped him out of his thoughts, the woman placed the larger suitcase down next to Agott.
“Lady Adina will send letters when she can,” The woman says to the professor and his partner. “Take care, young lady,” The woman looks at Agott before turning to leave as she’d seen that she sufficiently performed her duty.
Olruggio then spoke up, stopping her in her tracks as he stood next to Qifrey, “Madam, ‘scuse me,” he said. “Are there any allergies that we should be concerned about? As her watchful eye, it’s part of my job.”
“The young lady is healthy,” The maid answered, “Though she has an aversion to bitter foods, but no allergies to speak of.”
Qifrey noticed Olruggio’s expression; his gaze was hardened, anger barely restrained to maintain politeness as they all watched the maid climb onto the carriage. It seemed he also noticed the cruelty of how the family treats one of their children.
“Come,” Qifrey gently said, as he stepped aside to guide the young girl in, “You must be tired. Let’s go on inside.”
Agott watched as the carriage flew away, knowing that she wouldn’t be allowed to set foot in her home again until she was worthy of carrying the family name. At the sight, both Qifrey and Olruggio softened, their hearts aching for the young Agott.
“Lemme handle this,” Olruggio said as he picked up the larger suitcase. “I’m Olruggio, by the way. “He smiles, “It’s nice to meet you, Agott.”
“Master Olruggio?” Agott says, her eyes widening. She quickly opened her smaller suitcase before showing the snugstone inside, “Olruggio of the Torch?”
He laughed bashfully and said, “Yes, that’s me, like I said, I’ll be your watchful eye.” Despite his gruffiness and sleepy eyes, Olruggio still manages to look cute while flustered.
“I didn’t…” She said, pausing as if to form the next words that would come out of her mouth before clearing her throat, “I wasn’t informed.”
Qifrey could see right through it. The young girl was putting up a tough act, and stubbornly so. To be honest, she reminded him a lot of when he was a young boy. A scowl etched his face, as if the grace of a smile would give him an allergic reaction. The two older witches would never forget all the trouble they caused Qifrey’s professor as boys. As the witch led his new apprentice inside, Olruggio chuckled to himself loud enough for Qifrey to hear, “Karma might actually be real.”
Qifrey began a short tour of the area and common rooms as he led Agott to her new room, “The kitchen is right over there,” he gestures to the room, “There, we eat three meals, with a snack or two throughout the day.”
Finally, arrived at Agott's room. She noticed that it was more than enough for a single girl. “Professor Qifrey,” she says, looking up at him, “Are you planning to take more apprentices?”
“If apprentices are willing to join me out here,” Qifrey admits with a slight frown, “It’s quite a ways away from the nearby witch town; many conveniences of living in a community aren’t available here.”
“Nothin’ but the lush green of the countryside, I’m afraid,” Olruggio gruffly said as he settled Agott’s luggage by the door of her bedroom, “Fresh air, the gentle breeze, birds chirpin’ in the nearby forest.” He grins as he rolls his shoulder.
“I’d say it’s a wonderful place to think and focus,” Qifrey smiles in kind before turning his attention to Agott, “I’ll give you some time to rest and explore the atelier, just be sure to be by the dinner table at sunset.”
Olruggio crossed his arms before gently warning the young girl, “He might be soft spoken, but he means it. Meal time’s important in our atelier, don’t be late.”
“Yes, Professor Qifrey, Master Olruggio,” Agott politely said, still practiced, still trained, still poised. As if she’d be punished by being herself, by being a child. A child who needs, who wants, and who feels.
Olruggio sighed and patted her on the shoulder, “Loosen up, kid, this ain’t the castle. No need to be so prim and proper all the time,” he says, “You might have come here to learn, but for a long while yet, this also will be your home.”
There it is, the stubborn kindness that made Olruggio shine so bright. Qifrey felt like a moth trying to chase the flame of the sun, the closest star yet so far out of reach. He watched as Agott’s shoulders sagged ever so slightly, as if the burden of her name weighed down on them.
“All the excitement almost made me forget,” Qifrey chuckles. He takes a tiny box from his cloak and unclasps it, revealing its full size. “Here’s your welcoming gift, Agott.”
Agott’s eyes widened ever so slightly at the box, elegant carvings around its edges, almost like branches of the tree intertwined around its borders. Carefully, she takes the box from Qifrey before opening it to see the pristine uniform sitting inside.
“Go ahead,” Qifrey smiled, “Try it on.”
Agott takes the cloak, and after some shuffling… she was flustered, her ears reddening. The cloak was too long, she was practically drowning in the fabric, with some excess pooling at her feet.
“She’s definitely going to be wearing that until she has her own apprentices,” Olruggio failed to hold back a snicker, which reddened the young Arklaum even more.
Qifrey looked away, trying to compose himself as he tried to get the image of a sopping wet kitten out of his mind before turning his attention back to his young apprentice, “It’s alright, nothing a few alterations can’t fix.” The professor carefully took off the cloak, storing it back into the box and continuing, “Besides, we’ll still get the rest of your uniform tailored. We can ask the seamstress for adjustments.”
“Um,” Agott squirmed for a bit, fidgeting with her hands, “Professor Qifrey, when will our lessons start?”
“There’s no need to rush into things,” Qifrey gently answered, “I know you’re a clever one, but hasty hands should never draw magic, lest they want trouble to follow.”