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It was a bright afternoon at the atelier, the kind where sunlight filled every corner and made the bottles on the shelves shine like tiny captured stars. Qifrey had set the girls a simple practice exercise sat in front of the fireplace: drawing stable, balanced sigils meant to create small gusts of wind. Nothing dangerous. Nothing dramatic. Just careful lines, steady breathing, and the patience to keep trying when the circle did not behave exactly as expected.
Coco had been trying very hard not to rush. She had learned, after more than one scolding from Agott and more than one gentle reminder from Qifrey, that excitement could make her hand move faster than her thoughts. So she breathed in, held the pen carefully, and followed the curve of the sigil one slow stroke at a time.
Brushbuddy sat beside her ink bottle, watching with its bright little eyes.
“There,” Coco whispered her tongue sticking out in concentration, “Almost…”
The spell circle flickered softly. A small breeze lifted the edge of her cloak and ruffled Brushbuddy’s white fur.
Tetia clapped. “Coco, that was lovely!”
Coco’s face lit up.
Then her smile faltered.
For a moment, the room seemed to tilt.
The sunlight became strangely sharp, too bright at the edges, and the voices around her stretched thin and far away. Coco blinked hard, trying to clear it. Her fingers loosened around the pen.
“Coco?” Riche asked quietly.
Coco tried to answer, but the word would not come. The pen slipped from her hand.
Qifrey noticed at once.
“Coco?”
She swayed. Brushbuddy chirped in alarm. Before anyone could reach her, Coco collapsed slumping over sideways, body beginning to spasm.
Qifrey crossed the room in an instant. “Move the stools back. Give her space.”
His voice was calm, but it carried a firmness that made everyone obey. Tetia gasped, hands flying to her mouth, while Agott shoved the nearby chair away with a sharp scrape of wood against floorboards. Richeh froze only for a second before kneeling nearby, pale but listening.
Coco’s body jerked and convulsed helplessly against the floor. Gasps of breathes left her mouth as her chest spasmed.
Qifrey lowered himself beside her but did not try to hold her still. Instead, he gently turned her onto her side, careful to keep her head protected. “Olruggio!” he called.
Brushbuddy bolted from the room like a white flash.
Agott’s voice shook. “What’s happening to her?”
“A seizure,” Qifrey said, though the word seemed to hurt him. “Do not touch her. Just keep the area clear.”
Tetia was crying now, silently and helplessly.
Olruggio arrived moments later, Brushbuddy bouncing frantically at his heels. One look at Coco and his expression hardened with concern. He knelt on her other side, placing a folded cloak beneath her head to keep it from striking the floor.
“How long?” he asked.
“Less than a minute,” Qifrey replied.
The seizure felt endless, though it was not, as it came to a stop around the 2 minute mark. When the jerking finally slowed and stopped, Coco lay limp and dazed, breathing unevenly. Her eyes fluttered but did not focus.
Qifrey stayed close. “Coco can you hear me?You’re safe. You had a seizure. Don’t try to get up.”
Coco made a small confused sound.
Her gaze drifted over him, unfocused and frightened.
“Master… Qifrey?”
“I’m here.”
Olruggio touched two fingers lightly to her wrist, then watched her breathing. "She seems to have come around now.”
Coco’s eyes filled with tears before she seemed to understand why.
“I… did I mess up the spell?”
“No,” Qifrey said softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Brushbuddy crept close and pressed its little face against her hand.
Coco stared at it in confusion, then began to cry. But she doesn't understand what exactly those tears are for.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Qifrey’s face softened. “There is nothing to apologise for.”
But Coco was too tired to answer. Her eyes slipped closed, and Qifrey carefully gathered her into his arms.
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That evening, no one practiced magic.
Olruggio sent word to the Great Hall for a physician, explaining that they didn't want to move Coco yet.
Qifrey sat beside Coco’s bed long after she fell asleep, one hand resting lightly over hers. Brushbuddy curled against her shoulder, refusing to leave. Outside the room, the girls waited in anxious silence.
Agott stood with her arms folded, staring at the floor.
Tetia sniffled. “She looked so scared.”
“It was scary to watch,” Richeh said softly.
Agott’s fingers tightened around her sleeve. “We should have noticed sooner.”
Olruggio, who had been standing nearby with a cup of untouched tea, sighed. “Sometimes there is nothing to notice until it happens.”
“But what if it happens again?” Tetia asked.
No one answered immediately.
Then Qifrey stood up and stepped out of Coco’s room.
His expression was gentle, but tired.
“If it happens again,” he said, “we will do exactly what we did today. We keep her safe. We stay calm. And help if it lasts too long or if she is injured.”
Agott looked up. “What about using magic?”
Qifrey shook his head. “Not for this. Magic can do many things, but it cannot replace proper treatment.”
Olruggio nodded. “A body is not a broken chair. You don’t fix it by drawing the right sigil over it hoping for the best.”
Tetia wiped her eyes. “Will Coco be okay?”
Qifrey looked back toward the bedroom door.
“I believe so. But we need to understand what is happening first. Now come on dear apprentices let's make some tea and let Coco rest, " Qifrey speaks softly guiding them away from the bedroom door.
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The physician arrived the next morning. Coco was awake in her bed nervous with all the attention surrounding her.
She was an older woman from the Great Hall with silver-streaked hair, sharp eyes, and a calm manner that made even Agott straighten respectfully. She examined Coco carefully, asking questions about headaches, strange sensations, fainting, sleep, illness, and whether anything like this had happened before.
Coco hesitated.
“Sometimes,” she admitted quietly, “I feel… strange. Like I’m here, but far away. Or like the light is too bright. It only lasts a little while.”
Qifrey’s expression shifted.
“How long has that been happening?”
Coco looked ashamed and shrugs, “I didn’t think it mattered.”
The physician did not scold her. “It matters now because it helps us understand. You are not in trouble.”
After a long examination, she explained that one seizure did not always mean epilepsy. Fever, injury, exhaustion, or other illness could sometimes cause one. But because Coco had described other strange episodes, and because she was still a child, they would need to watch carefully. If it happened again without a clear cause, epilepsy would become more likely.
Coco listened with wide, frightened eyes.
“Does that mean I can’t be a witch?”
The question seemed to still the room.
Qifrey’s hand immediately found her shoulder. “No not at all, my dear child.”
The physician shook her head too. “It means we make a plan. Many people with epilepsy live full lives. Some need medicine every day. Some need extra rest. Some need to avoid certain triggers. But it does not make you less capable."
Coco looked down at her blanket. “But what if I have one while drawing?”
“Then we make sure you are not practicing alone,” Olruggio said firmly.
Agott stepped closer, her voice quieter than usual. “And we will do our best to help Coco."
Tetia nodded quickly. “ Oh, Oh," she raises her hand enthusiasticly, "And we keep cushions nearby!”
Richeh added, “And Brushbuddy can fetch Master Qifrey or Master Olruggio.”
Brushbuddy chirped as if accepting the duty with great seriousness.
For the first time since waking, Coco almost smiled.
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The second seizure came five days later.
It happened in the garden, not during spell practice but while Coco was helping Tetia gather herbs. There was no warning anyone noticed. One moment Coco was holding a basket of tea leaves, and the next she went still, staring past Tetia’s shoulder.
“Coco?”
The basket dropped. Coco dropped like a stone.
Tetia screamed for Qifrey.
This time, everyone knew what to do.
Riche moved the basket away. Agott guided Tetia back enough to give Coco space, though her own hands were trembling. Qifrey arrived before the seizure had fully taken hold, with Olruggio just behind him. Brushbuddy circled anxiously but stayed clear until Coco was safe on her side.
“It’s all right dear,” Qifrey said, though his voice was tight. “You’re safe, Coco.”
Afterward, Coco was exhausted and confused. She cried when she realised it had happened again.
The Great Hall physician returned that evening to see Coco sat in the kitchen of atelier looking exhausted.
This time, the diagnosis was spoken plainly.
Childhood epilepsy.
Coco sat very still. The word felt enormous.
Epilepsy.
It sounded like something that belonged to someone else. Someone fragile. Someone who could not run through the atelier halls, could not lean over books with Agott, could not laugh at Tetia’s stories or sit beside Richeh in quiet companionship.
Qifrey seemed to know exactly where her thoughts had gone.
He knelt in front of her chair.
“My dear Coco,” he said softly, “look at me.”
She did. "You are still you, Coco.”
Her chin trembled.
“But I’m sick.”
“You have a condition,” he replied. “That is not the same as being broken.”
Olruggio stood behind him with folded arms, his voice gruff but kind. “And it means you’ll take medicine. You’ll sleep properly. You’ll tell us when you feel strange. Annoying, yes. Impossible, no.”
The physician explained the treatment carefully. Coco would begin daily medicine to help reduce seizures. It might take time to find the right dose. She would need regular follow-up visits. If a seizure lasted too long, if she was injured, or if she had trouble breathing afterward, they would seek emergency help immediately. She should avoid dangerous heights, deep water alone, and practicing magic without someone nearby until they knew how well the medicine worked.
Coco nodded, though tears slipped down her cheeks.
“I don’t want everyone watching me all the time.”
“Sweetheart, we won’t treat you like glass,” Qifrey promised. “But we will look after you I promise.”
Brushbuddy climbed carefully into her lap and pressed its fluffy head beneath her chin.
Coco hugged it, crying harder.
The days that followed were strange.
Every morning, Olruggio placed Coco’s medicine beside breakfast with a cup of water. He never made a fuss about it, which somehow made it easier. Qifrey kept a small record of her symptoms in a notebook: sleep, headaches, strange feelings, missed meals, stress, and anything that might help the physician understand her pattern.
Tetia made it her mission to ensure Coco ate enough.
Agott quietly rearranged their study space so Coco never sat near sharp tools or cluttered shelves.
Richeh pretended she was only interested in keeping lessons efficient, but she began placing spare cushions near Coco’s chair.
And Brushbuddy learned faster than anyone expected.
If Coco went quiet in a strange way, Brushbuddy chirped sharply. If she seemed dizzy, it tugged at Qifrey’s cloak. If she had a seizure, it ran for help and returned immediately, trembling but brave.
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One evening, after a week without another seizure, Coco sat on the atelier steps watching the sky turn pink.
Qifrey found her there. “May I sit?”
She nodded. For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then Coco whispered, “What if I never get better?”
Qifrey looked at her gently.
“Some people grow out of childhood epilepsy. Some do not. We cannot know yet.”
Coco swallowed. “That’s scary.”
“Yes,” he said honestly. “It is."
She looked surprised.
Qifrey smiled faintly. “I won’t pretend it isn’t. But scary things become easier when they are not faced alone.”
Coco’s eyes filled again. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
“My dear you are not a burden.”
“But everyone has to change things because of me.”
Qifrey’s voice softened. “Coco, when someone we love needs care, changing things is not a burden. It is how we make room for them.”
Brushbuddy hopped onto Coco’s shoulder and nestled against her cheek.
Coco leaned into its warmth.
Behind them, from inside the atelier, Tetia called that dinner was ready. Agott complained that if they waited any longer the soup would go cold. Riche quietly told her it was already cooling anyway. Olruggio muttered something about impatient apprentices.
Coco let out a small laugh.
Qifrey stood and offered his hand.
“Come along my dear.”
Coco looked at his hand, then took it.
Her future was uncertain. There would be medicine, appointments, careful plans, and frightening days. There would be moments when her own body felt unfamiliar to her.
But there would also be warm food surroundedby warm faces.
There would be lessons.
There would be Tetia’s laughter, Richeh’s quiet kindness, Agott’s hidden worry, Olruggio’s steady grumbling, Brushbuddy’s soft chirps, and Qifrey’s hand always waiting when she needed help standing again..
Coco followed her master into the warm atmosphere of the atelier.
And for the first time since hearing the word epilepsy, she believed she still belonged there.