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“I started a journal recently,” Olruggio casually mentioned during a rare moment of freedom where he got to hang out with Qifrey and the girls. “A couple weeks ago.”
“Oh…” Qifrey felt a sense of dread come upon him.
“I’ve tried to keep one of those before, but I always end up forgetting about it, but I always ended up forgetting,” said Tetia.
“Richeh doesn't need a journal! Richeh has a perfect memory.”
“Agott has one,” said Coco.
Agott proceeded to blush.
“Now, there's nothing embarrassing about it. I know your professor has one too.” Olruggio looked at Qifrey. “That's where I got the idea.”
“I do have one,” said Qifrey. “A journal can be a great place to get your feelings out, especially the sort of ones that can be hard to tell others.”
“Exactly,” said Olruggio. “It's a good practice if you can keep up with it. Probably.”
Soo after that conversation, they dispersed for the night. Qifrey remained behind, staring at the fire.
Yes, a journal could be a great way to make one feel better, especially when you were like Qifrey, who had a number of troubles he couldn't talk to anyone about. The problem was, a journal just wasn't a therapeutic device. It was a tracker, a way to remember things. And they were things which Olruggio couldn't remember.
He might figure out a part of Qifrey's secret and write it in his journal before confronting him about it. There would be no point in taking his memories then, as Olruggio would just return to the last page of the journal, re-read it, and figure things out. No, Olruggio could not have a journal. It was too much of a risk.
Qifrey had to steal it.
Olruggio's room was messy enough that he would believe that he lost it, and hopefully he would give up and decide not to start another one. And if he did, well. Qifrey would have to steal that too, until he gave up.
A week after Olruggio revealed he was keeping a journal, Qifrey finally had his chance. His friend had gone to Kalhn to get some supplies, giving Qifrey time to sneak into his rooms and find the journal. He had gone by windowway though, so he didn't have much time before Olruggio returned. Hopefully he would linger in the markets finding gifts for the girls instead of hurrying back right away. If he did come back early, Qifrey could just say he was cleaning.
Where was it? It really was a mess in here. Qifrey didn't know where to start his search. There were simply too many books about, used for brainstorming and sketches of spells. Qifrey skimmed through a couple on Olruggio's desk and nothing that appeared to be a journal. Did he hide it? Did he not want to even chance upon anyone finding it?
Giving up on the work area for now, he wandered into Olruggio's bedroom and opened up his bedside drawer. Nothing. He peered under the bed. Nothing. Qifrey sighed. There were simply too many places where a witch could hide things. Under the floorboards, in the ceiling. He could use an illusion spell to disguise it as another object, even. Qifrey kept his own journal on him at all times, tucked away in his cloak. It contained his will, after all. An apology letter to Olruggio. Of course, Olruggio's journal was unlikely to have anything as revealing as that in it, but still. If he truly wanted to keep it private, that would be the best place to hide it. It would be much harder for Qifrey to get his hands on it then.
He went back out into the main work area. Where could it be? He peered into Olruggio's kiln. Maybe there, if he had a chamber protected from the heat, he could–
“What are you doing?”
Qifrey jumped. There, behind him, was Olruggio. Back already, huh?
“I was…” Qifrey struggled to think up a believable excuse. “I was dusting…”
“With what duster?”
“I forgot to bring the duster.”
Olruggio gave him a skeptical look.
“Really!”
“Get out.” Olruggio pointed at the door.
“But–”
“I know you like playing maid, but you don't need to clean unnecessary things.”
“I don't mind–” He liked cleaning. What was wrong with liking cleaning?
“I have work I need to do, anyways. You're too distracting.”
Olruggio sat down at his desk.
“I'll take my leave then,” said Qifrey, but he then noticed something.
On a bookshelf in the room, by the exitway, was a small black book with a lock on it. The journal, it had to be it.. The journal. Qifrey looked at Olruggio, who was already focused on his work.
He quietly grabbed it and slipped it into his skirts. He swiftly retreated into his own bedroom.
He had succeeded. Qifrey held the black book in his hands.
He should burn the thing. If Olruggio ever found out that he took it, he would surely be furious with him. The best thing to do would be to get rid of it.
But… While it was his original motive, now that he had it in his hands… Qifrey couldn't help but wonder about the contents inside of it. No… He couldn't… He would be invading Olruggio's privacy. But… In this book, Olruggio probably wrote things that he couldn't tell Qifrey. Wasn't that the purpose of one, after all? To write things you couldn't tell others? Surely, he had written about his feelings towards Qifrey in it. Olruggio had never really told him exactly why he stayed by his side, despite Qifrey hardly being able to offer anything for him. Not just that. Surely, Olruggio had to be getting fed up with him and his behavior by now.
This journal would hold the truth.
Qifrey pulled on the lock. It was a combination one. You had to rotate the dials to the right four numbers to activate the magic that would open it. Qifrey could just go through them all. But no. Olruggio might notice his journal was missing, and if he was private enough he had put a lock on it, there might be some sort of retaliation magic if he tried the wrong one too many times in a row. The same might happen if he tried to force it off.
He inspected the lock carefully. The combination was currently on 1119. That was Qifrey's fake birthday. Surely, it was just a coincidence. Olruggio wouldn't make it such an obvious date, and then not shuffle the numbers before leaving it be.
He pulled on the lock.
It opened.
Oh…
Maybe there really was nothing important in there, if it was in such an obvious place and the security was so weak. Well, only one way to find out. He opened it.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Oh. There was Olruggio. Qifrey promptly closed the book and turned around.
“I thought I saw you grab something! You stole it,” Olruggio glared at him. “I can't believe it… And you broke into it, too!”
“I… I accidentally…” What? It fell into his pockets and then he accidentally opened it up. “I didn't think the combination would be my fake birthday.”
“Give me that.” Olruggio snatched it from him. “Jeez, I can't believe you. I put this lock in in case one of the girls thought it would be funny to open it.”
“They wouldn't.”
“Well, you do, apparently. Give it back.” Olruggio held his hands out. Qifrey gently handed him the journal.
“I haven't gotten a chance to look at it…” said QIfrey, as if it would make things better.
“So you admit that you wanted to?”
“I…”
Olruggio had caught him red-handed. There was no way he could deny what he had done. There was no excuse for what he had done either, unless he explained the truth, and then he would have to…
Olruggio took a long look at Qifrey, and then a long look at the journal. He sighed and handed it back to Qifrey. “You can take a glance at it if you want to, I guess.”
“Huh? Really?” He took the book back. Why was it this easy?
“There's nothing interesting in there,” said Qifrey.
“It's your private thoughts, isn't it? I shouldn't…”
Olruggio gave him an incredulous look. “So when you don't have permission you want to, but when you do, you lose interest? Was it just the excitement of the crime that made you do it?”
Qifrey really should've just instantly burned the thing. Well, if he had permission… He opened the book at about the halfway point. The pages were blank. He had to go pretty early in the book before he found anything. The last entry was only a few pages in.
“Olruggio. You haven't written in this for a week.”
“Yeah, well… I thought about it, and I don’t know if my life is interesting enough for a journal. Also, I keep on forgetting…”
Oh. So Qifrey didn't even have anything to worry about in the first place. Of course. Well, he started at the beginning.
8.15
Decided to start a journal. Qifrey has one. I wonder what he writes in it.
I don't really know what to write.
8.16
Spent all day working.
8.17
Spent all day working. Too much work.
8.18
Again, spent all day working. I want to visit Qifrey and the girls.
8.19
Didn't get to visit Qifrey and the girls… Too much work.
8.22
I forgot to write in this. I had time to see Qifrey and the girls. Now the work is back.
The whole journal went on like that. Sparse entries, Olruggio commonly forgetting for a few days. The last time he had written in it was the night he had mentioned to Qifrey and the girls he had one. It must've reminded him about it.
Qifrey could see why he gave up on this.
“You're supposed to write about your feelings, Olly,” Qifrey told him. “Or more details about your day, if you're using this as a way to track memories.”
“I'm not good at putting that sort of thing into words…” Olruggio took the journal back from him. “My days don't really have that many interesting details either.”
“It doesn't matter if you're good at putting it into words or if it's interesting or not. It's a journal. You can say whatever you want in it. You can vent out all of your frustrations.”
“Mm…” Olruggio considered. “I don't think there's much of a point in it. I can just vent to you about it if I really need to.”
“But surely there's things you can't discuss with me.”
“Like what?” Olruggio asked.
“You know… Secret feelings.”
“Uh…” Olruggio's face turned red. So there was something. Qifrey knew it.
He pressed further. “Like frustrations you may have with me.”
“Frustrations? Oh…” He gave Qifrey a long look. “I'm a bit frustrated with you right now and I have no problem telling you that.”
That certainly was true. “Well, they're not for everyone.”
“Was it really worth all the trouble to take it?” Olruggio asked him.
“I really am sorry,” Qifrey said. “I just got a bit curious when you mentioned it.”
Qifrey was caught, but yet he had somehow gotten away with it. Only with Olruggio, who trusted him with all his heart.
“It's all right. So? Can I see your journal now?”
“Huh?”
“Since you got to look in mine. Come on.” Olruggio held out his hands.
“No, you can't.”
“It's only fair, isn't it?”
He was probably right, but…
“Yours didn't have any secrets in it,” Qifrey pointed out.
“And yours does?”
It had a few.
“Well, I do talk about my feelings…”
“Secret feelings?” Olruggio asked.
Qifrey nodded.
“Like what?”
“I can't tell you, or it won't be a secret anymore.”
“Oh, come on! It's only fair.”
This was the trade-off, huh?
“... Just a page. Let me see if I can find one.” Maybe it could be an example to Olruggio of what a real journal was supposed to look like. What was one that wasn't too incriminating?
Qifrey pulled his journal out of his cloak. He flipped through it. That entry was too depressing. The next one was also too depressing. The next one… It wasn't overtly so, but that line was a reference to the tree, and Qifrey wasn't sure if he could explain it away as a metaphor if Olruggio questioned him about it. In this one, he complained about his sight.
“How many secrets do you have?” Olruggio asked.
Qifrey gave a quick laugh.
“It's just a bit embarrassing, that's all.”
Olruggio mumbled something to himself. Probably about how Qifrey was a hypocrite. He was right.
How about this one? It wasn't depressing, nor did it have any references to his condition.
August 21th,
Olruggio finally finished his current commission! He was able to spend the last half of the day with me and the girls. He was able to help Agott with a light spell she was working on, and then he was able to help me make a ravioli for supper. We talked after the girls went to bed. Apparently he needs to return straight to work tomorrow. I wish he would take a break. I feel like I've hardly seen him at all lately.
Would Olruggio like being handed an entry complaining about his bad habits? Qifrey read one.
The atelier feels so much warmer when he's around. It's like within him he carries the sigil for fire magic. He has a radiance that lights the world up wherever he goes–
Qifrey's own words were too hard to read. Did he really write this? He quickly slammed his own journal shut.
“I'm sorry, Olly, there's really nothing in here that I can show you.”
“Eh? Come on.”
“There's not,” said Qifrey. “If you had a proper journal, you would understand.”
“Oh, fine. Be that way, then.” Olruggio let out an exasperated sigh. “If you want something from me, you can just ask. Haven't I told you that before?”
“I think so…”