Chapter Text
“So what now? Were you gonna try challenging the tower again?” The memoryless Olruggio doesn’t know that Qifrey’s open wound has closed, and continues to poke at it. “Maybe next time you’ll find something about your memories? Never know, right?” Olruggio glances at Qifrey from the corner of his eyes. The other boy stares at the tower in question, expression unreadable.
Olruggio doesn’t want Qifrey to try challenging the tower again. The fear of not knowing whether your best friend lives is something Olruggio can never forget. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t forget, even with the assistance of magic. Sitting at the shore while Qifrey toiled away felt like the worst hours of his life.
He wouldn’t put it past Qifrey to go back in the far future, but even if he’s finished for now, that’s…
“No,” Qifrey states, to Olruggio’s great relief. “I think I'm done with the tower.”
Olruggio grips the hem of his robes, pushing just to make sure. “But—”
“There was nothing there for me.” That’s the first time Qifrey spoke over him in a long while. “There’s no reason to go back.” The wind whips through their hair, their clothes, Qifrey’s new ribbon threatening to hit him in the face. “Whatever my past was, it’s behind me. This is who I am now, and who I will be tomorrow.”
A laugh bubbles up in Olruggio despite himself, and he chokes it down with the force of an amplifier spanning the whole seal. That isn’t what Qifrey said before, when he told Olruggio everything about his past that he discovered.
“A record!” He explained, so happy– happier than Olruggio has ever seen him. “So that if I ever forget again, you’ll be there to remind me.”
Just now, he had parroted the exact lines Olruggio said to him, when he noticed that Qifrey was scarily fixated on the idea of never forgetting. A reminder that his past didn’t define him.
Copying Qifrey’s original response back, Olruggio says, “Whatever you say. If you’re okay with that, then I guess I am too.” Qifrey had been terrified of losing Olruggio when he shared his past. It’s laughable, the idea that anything could drag the golden boy away from his troublemaker.
“By the way,” Olruggio adds cheekily, feeling lighter after that confirmation. “Care to explain why my ribbon is on your cap? I don’t remember agreeing to a switch.”
Qifrey stiffens.
Well, Olruggio shouldn’t remember much of anything. There’s a sick sense of fascination as he prods at the new open wound in Qifrey, knowing that it’s cruel, knowing that it’ll keep him alive for longer.
“No,” he whispers, eyes shadowed. “I’m not giving it back.”
“Do you wanna explain to our masters why we have each other’s ornaments?” Undoubtedly, they’ll be teased relentlessly about the swap. Olruggio doesn’t pity Qifrey once he gets back to Lord Bel. “Obviously not. Now are you gonna give it back to me, or—”
“No!!” Qifrey shouts, lashing out. His nails dig crescents into his palm, gripping the ribbon like Olruggio is going to rip it off his head with his own two hands. With a horrified gasp after the outburst, he backtracks, clutching the ribbon close to his heart and hunching over it protectively. “I can’t. It’s…” He trails off.
It’s indescribable, Olruggio knows. Qifrey can’t exactly reveal their shared secret and promise unless he wants to die again.
Olruggio takes over for him. “It’s what? Oh, come on, no need to get so angry.” He shakes his head a few times, getting used to the weight of the focused weight of the tassel on his head instead of the distributed length of the ribbon. “Fine, keep it. I mean, it’s just an ornament…”
They both know it’s so much more.
“All I’m saying is you could’ve asked for it instead of just taking it from me.” And therein lies the problem. Turning away, Olruggio smiles bitterly. That accusation must feel unjust, huh? Of the switch and painful promise being Qifrey’s fault, when Qifrey never wanted any of this in the first place. He was ready to die there, happy and safe. Maybe life is worse than death, sometimes, but— Olruggio at least wants them to become adults before that decision is made.
“So! Wanna head back?”
—
After that day, Olruggio tested it over and over again. The weight of the secret got too heavy, and some part of him did want his memories erased after so much time went by. Carrying those secrets to the grave was a harder task than initially anticipated. He would ‘uncover’ some of Qifrey’s secrets again and again, hoping that this time will be the one, and again and again, he wouldn’t lose a single memory.
Each time, he would respond with disbelief. Then, his face would twist and turn with anguish, as Qifrey shared everything he’s been keeping inside since the last time it happened. It was always so much more. And after biting back all the words he should have said, an apology, an explanation… Olruggio would show ‘grace’, comfort Qifrey, and forgive him for lying. Which was another lie in itself.
And then, without fail, the Silverwood’s roots would grow.
Olruggio would offer him the same path every time, and Qifrey would accept it, adding another count to the many times he’s tried and failed to forget. Pretty ironic, a boy — now man — who always wanted to remember, and his friend who wants nothing more than to forget. It’s all the same, in any case.
Qifrey would try travelling, leaving Olruggio in the dark of night, and the lingering warmth imitating Qifrey by his side would be just a pyreball. He would keep his eyes on it for hours, transfixed by the flame, wondering if he should keep staring and wait for Qifrey to come back. That minute of solace was almost relieving.
It never stayed that way for long. Olruggio would pick himself up and find the newly-sprouted silverwood tree, often somewhere in the hills or the countryside, and Qifrey would turn back to normal as soon as he started approaching. Distance would do nothing but break their promise. It made the heart grow loathsome, it seemed, and Olruggio couldn’t tell if he was happy or not that his existence itself caused Qifrey so much pain.
Qifrey had another thought, one that made Olruggio’s heart churn with longing.
“A master never wants for worry with apprentices to look after,” Qifrey had told him, knees to his chest on the hilltop. It was just another night under the stars, the grass disturbed as if roots had been plucked out. The seal for erasing memories was on Qifrey’s cap this time, hidden under the white flap. He’s getting creative with concealing it. Leagues better than holding multiple in a pocket to the side, but not enough to fool Olruggio, who knew Qifrey better than himself.
“You’re gonna settle down?” Olruggio asked, “Fulfil that dream of yours?”
“Yes,” he nodded, “For… you know.”
Olruggio knew. For another fleeting moment, Qifrey could confide in Olruggio. The other had already found him as a Silverwood Tree, after all. The memory loss would just be another inevitability.
“The selfishness of the reason makes me feel kinda sick,” Qifrey admitted, huffing a laugh. He had taken to smiling more often, and each time, Olruggio would lament the loss of his genuine smile, something more precious than anyone could imagine.
“Wanting to stay alive is one of those things where selfishness is a given.” Olruggio had leaned his head against Qifrey’s shoulder, noting the pace of a still-beating heart from pulses he could just barely feel. “Treat them well, teach them well, and you get mutual benefit. Nothing wrong with that.”
“I’ll put every fiber of my being towards becoming a good educator,” Qifrey promised.
“I don’t doubt that,” Olruggio sincerely replied.
In the morning, Qifrey told him it was because he wanted a change of pace. Not long after, Qifrey went to take the fifth test of the Pentacle of Proving, and Olruggio had submitted their applications as a Master and his Watchful Eye.
How foolish that was. If only then, both of them had known what a joy it truly was to watch Qifrey’s students grow with each passing day. Agott, Tetia, Richeh, and Coco. Qifrey’s girls. Their girls, for whom the Master would live and learn from, and for whom the Watchful Eye would turn the other cheek.
It was relieving and terrifying to Olruggio, seeing Qifrey’s smile grow more truthful, and with it, more pained. He didn’t regret his actions, though. Even if all Olruggio brought was the reminder of pain, he would be the one keeping Qifrey alive, so that he could bask in the joy of their little Atelier.
One day, after one too many late-night snacks, shared meals, and combined worry over the children, Qifrey would begin associating Olruggio with safety. And then, the cycle would repeat.