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“You still haven’t explained why you wanted to go to Kalhn today, Olly.”
Typically, he at least gave Qifrey some kind of explanation, especially after insisting for him to come with him for the day, but not this time. They hadn’t exactly done any errands. Olruggio had just searched around town for something while he followed like a vaguely confused duckling.
… Then again, Qifrey complaining about a lack of transparency from Olruggio was hypocritical to the point of ludicrousness, so he held his tongue firmly on that point.
Much the same as Olruggio had. All day. Tight-lipped, high strung, a cocktail of nerves and resolve aimed at some kind of problem that Qifrey couldn’t see.
… Hypocritical or not, the silence was growing concerning.
“... Is everything alright?”
Olruggio’s footsteps in front of him faltered. Briefly. Only briefly, before picking himself up and continuing his march to apparently nowhere in particular.
“... It should be. Hopefully. Soon.”
… Alright.
Qifrey’s reply was nothing but a soft hum as they settled back into silence.
Whatever this was, he was sure that Olruggio had his reasons. Hopefully those reasons weren’t too much of a cause for alarm, though.
~~~~~~~~~~~
“H-Here. Here should be … good?”
… Was Olruggio asking that or just stating it?
And … good for what? They were just in a dead end alleyway, out of the way of the main roads and buildings. Qifrey couldn’t imagine much that this place would be ‘good’ for besides providing ample cover with which to stab someone out of sight; in fact, Qifrey could swear that he could see dried bloodstains that hadn’t quite been cleaned up properly.
Despite Qifrey’s confusion, Olruggio spun around to face him, expression determined but in that almost boyish way of his, so apparently this was, in fact, a ‘good’ place for whatever he had planned.
… For a brief moment, the insane thought crossed Qifrey’s mind that they were here for a crime, that Olruggio had finally reached his wit’s end with him (justifiably so, lords knew it had taken long enough) and decided to put him out of everyone’s misery. Honestly, it wouldn’t be too bad of a way to go; Qifrey wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.
He tamped the thought down before he could feel the branches start to grow. It was second nature at this point.
“Qifrey.”
He sounded serious. Earnest. Passionate, but … not exactly murderous.
Oh drat. How unfortunate.
Qifrey raised an eyebrow as Olruggio seemed to mentally stumble through the rest of his words for a few seconds. He waited, patiently, as Olruggio seemed to find his path (whatever it was), straight and true.
“... I need to test a spell, Qifrey.”
… He couldn’t say he was expecting that. It was somehow one of the more logical options, but at the same time … not.
“If so, then … the mainland is an odd choice. Why not the island?” Why Kalhn at all, then, why not the atelier, the place specifically made for these things? “You may have found a quiet place, true, but there are still Outsiders here.”
“I know.” His face was firm, even if his gaze was locked on an apparently particularly interesting cobblestone rather than on Qifrey himself. “That’s exactly why it has to be here. In case things go wrong.”
… Oh, the concern was back. It was very much back.
Doctors. What else could that possibly mean but doctors? What on earth was he planning?
Olruggio noticed; it must have shown clearly on his expression. Or maybe this was just one more rock on a mountain of evidence that they had spent far too much time together.
Not enough. Never enough.
“Qifrey.”
Olruggio was forcefully stonefaced. Every breath Qifrey took abruptly felt like an earthquake in his lungs.
“Do you trust me?”
… Qifrey felt himself abruptly knocked out of his stupor. The anxiety fizzled out in seconds drowned out by sheer … bafflement.
It would have felt less ridiculous if Olruggio had asked him if he believed that the sun was real.
“Of course I do. What kind of a question is that?”
It was almost offensive before the feeling was drowned out by shame; of course his actions over all these years would look like a lack of trust without the proper context, even though nothing could be further from the truth.
He would never be able to put into words how much he loathed living like this.
Olruggio could, should, have gotten angry at that response, at the hypocrisy that flowed through Qifrey’s veins and thickened his blood, but he didn’t. He just seemed relieved. It was enough to drive a man insane-
“Good. Then give me your ink.”
… Um …?
Qifrey could do nothing but blink for a second. He … couldn’t say he was expecting that.
“May I … ask why?”
Olruggio’s stone face was back in full force.
“You said you trusted me.”
… Things were growing more concerning by the minute, and he would have turned away a while ago if this was anyone other than Olruggio.
But it was Olruggio. And so, Qifrey dutifully handed over his ink bottles. His main one, the spare, and the other spare.
Qifrey was pinned with an expectant glare as Olruggio refused to move.
… And the other other spare.
Olruggio nodded, satisfied, as he stepped some paces away from Qifrey. Qifrey, for his part, would honestly have felt less vulnerable if Olruggio had simply stripped him naked. He trusted him, but still, defencelessness was never a pleasant feeling.
It wasn’t the same. He was safe here. It was Olruggio. Olruggio would never-
“Now.”
Olruggio spun around as he finished a ring on his palm quire, a bright flame hovering over the paper.
“Look alive.”
… Qifrey could swear sometimes that he did this on purpo-
UM EXCUSE ME WHAT?
Before Qifrey could even blink, let alone move, Olruggio had launched the fire out.
Directly. At. Him.
Every part of him caught ablaze in an instant. Instincts older than recorded history screamed at him to run, but … honestly, after the initial confusion, he barely even flinched.
Because … it didn’t hurt.
“This is … the Phantasmal Fireball spell?”
He imagined that he cut a silhouette that was either amusing or horrifying; a man standing and speaking calmly in a towering inferno.
With Olruggio’s expression, he didn’t seem sure where he landed.
“The very same. I’ve been making … tweaks to it, in the free time we’ve had since Silver Eve.”
… Ah yes. That … fiasco. Qifrey would rather not think about it, and he imagined he wasn’t alone in that, but honestly, such a font of bad memories was useful in its own way; it made for quite an effective weedkiller.
… Tangent aside, Olruggio’s work was self-evident. After a few seconds, it certainly felt substantially different than the original spell.
“Yes, I can tell. This one’s actually quite warm.”
… He … couldn’t say he was expecting Olruggio’s nonchalant mask to crumble so suddenly. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped in that way that made him look so young when he was truly taken by surprise, in that way that always simultaneously settled and ransacked Qifrey’s heart.
“Y-You feel warm? You’re sure, Qifrey, you’re sure you’re feeling it?!”
… Qifrey raised an eyebrow as an anxious squirm started to settle into his veins.
“... Yes. It’s getting warmer over time, actually. Is that … meant to be happening?”
His concern was only growing, but it was apparently twinned with Olruggio’s excitement, like all of his birthdays had come at once.
Or maybe it was more similar to the fervent mania of a believer whose prayers had been answered.
“G-Good, good, that’s good, that’s such a good start … o-okay, okay, okay …”
… What on earth was he playing at?
… And on second thought … um …
“Olly?”
The wriggling under his skin was getting worse. He’d think it was the damn parasite if he didn’t know that was impossible right now; with how little he knew about what was happening, he felt the furthest thing from comfortable.
“Are you … quite sure that this doesn’t count as a violation of the pact? It isn’t really doing anything major, no, but … it is still magic cast on another person.”
Qifrey wasn’t sure if the growing heat was from the spell or from his own nerves making him feel sick.
Was this why Olruggio chose to do this in an Outsider area? To cut down on the chances of anyone seeing this who could report them to the Knights Moralis? And how was he planning on actually doing anything with this kind of use of the spell anyway? Qifrey would defend him as much as he could, but he wasn’t a miracle worker-
I-It was getting so hot, harder to think, harder to breathe, was the temperature limit on this variant of the spell too high, it had gone long past warm, it was starting to hurt a bit and-
“I thought about that too, but don’t worry. It should be fine.”
Despite Qifrey’s worry, Olruggio just smiled like nothing was wrong.
Well. Almost nothing. His lip was wobbling a little. A tiny crack in a shaky grin, a familiar grin, a grin that Qifrey could read like a book.
‘I won’.
“It might have counted. If I was actually casting it on you.”
… W-What did that-
Ah.
A-AH.
“AAAAAAAAAA!”
Qifrey could not remember the last time he felt agony like this. He doubled over on the floor, screaming, feeling his innards boil and thrash like a sparrel in a firewood pile.
He reached for his ink bottles by instinct, but found empty air. He whimpered.
He was dying. He was dying. Olruggio’s spell wasn’t safe yet and he was dying.
“O-Okay, okay, okay, I figured it would probably hurt at this point but I didn’t think it’d be this bad, s-sorry Qifrey, sorry-”
Qifrey could barely parse out Olruggio’s babbles as he knelt by him, hand on his back as he continued to burn.
Blind from pain and tears, Qifrey’s arm spasmed out and grabbed Olruggio’s in a death grip.
“P-Put it out … make it STOP … p-please, please, Olly, it hurts … help me … it HURTS …”
He choked out the words around boiling phlegm and vomit. His senses were growing fuzzy around the edges already, but he knew he could feel Olruggio trembling.
Help me … help me … h-help me …
“I-I know … I’m sorry … Qifrey, I’m so sorry … but … this is the only way I could think of. I-I know it hurts, b-but … y-you’re just going to have to hang on a little longer, okay? Until I know it’s over. I-I know you’re strong, I know, but I … I-I don’t want to have to do this again …”
… None of it made sense … Qifrey couldn’t think … everything hurt … he was fading from the pain … his mouth tasted like acid and ash …
“... It … hurts …”
Olruggio’s breath hitched in a suspiciously wet sound as Qifrey’s consciousness came close to falling under.
“P-Please … please let this work …”
… The last thought that crossed Qifrey’s mind was ‘well, at least it was him’. And then everything went black.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The next time Qifrey perceived anything, it was … incoherent.
No more burning. Heavy ash taste. Other voices. Screaming voices. Moving around, the pain made worse. Flashing lights. Needles. Knives. Numbness. Pain. Numbness. Pain. Numbness. Pain.
Sleep. Merciful, merciful sleep.
He didn’t know if he wanted to wake up.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The next time Qifrey perceived anything coherent, it still felt … strange.
He was … still in Kalhn. The memory of these rooms lurched back to him slowly, like they themselves were creatures just waking; this was the medical facility where Coco had been treated, all that time ago.
Coco … he hoped she was okay. He hoped that all of the girls were okay, obviously, but … so much weight had been thrust on her poor little shoulders recently, and he was a shameful part of that problem. Out of everyone back at the atelier, he especially didn’t want to give her any more reason to worry.
… Wait … he and Olruggio had both been in Kalhn. How long had it been since then? How long had the girls been alone?!
A sudden rush of energy saw his limbs trying to push himself out of bed … before they abruptly remembered how weak they were and collapsed once again.
Although that wasn’t the only reason why he stayed in bed. Other arms, stronger arms, forced him back down.
Trembling though they were.
“H-Hey, hey, calm down, it’s alright, you’re safe. But … b-but fuck, I’m so glad you’re okay …”
… Olruggio sounded like he’d been crying. Something felt strange about that, but Qifrey was too tired to interrogate himself on what that was.
Olruggio was holding his hand. He was too exhausted to pull it away. Although not too exhausted to push the parasite back if (when) needed.
Unfortunately. Just once, damn the consequences, he wanted to be able to breathe.
“Wh … what happened?”
His throat felt like sandpaper and his brain felt like molasses. His glasses were on the table next to him. He felt pathetic. He felt weak. If someone tried to hurt him, there was nothing he could do.
But that’s okay. Olly’s here. Everything was going to be okay.
He braced himself again as Olruggio breathed heavily, reviewing his thoughts and digging through his pockets.
… The branches weren’t growing as easily as usual. Strange. Maybe it was just the residual pain keeping ‘true comfort’ away. That was probably it.
Olruggio dug out a small vial of a strange black sludge.
“... Qifrey. Do you know what this is?”
… Right now, Qifrey wasn’t confident that he knew the way back home, his thoughts ran so slow. He shook his head ‘no’, wincing as the pain shot through him at the motion.
Olruggio winced too, sympathetic, and cupped his face to try and stop the movement.
Qifrey’s mind was so fried that he couldn’t stop himself from leaning into the touch. He couldn’t see Olruggio’s face very well without his glasses on, but there was a soft chuff of laughter that always made his heart soar and the silverwood bite and-
… Qifrey frowned.
There was … nothing. No growth. No squirming. No new pain.
… No … sensation of the damn thing at all. He’d grown so used to its weight that its absence made him feel oddly hollow.
But … that couldn’t be right, couldn’t it? His senses were just loopy from the drugs after Olruggio brought him to the doctor for his burns, that had to be why he couldn’t feel it, there was no way, no way at all that-
Qifrey didn’t even need his glasses on to see how Olruggio met his frown with a grin.
“You’re putting it together, aren’t you?”
… Putting … what together? What? Huh? What was happening?
This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. It couldn’t possibly be that-
“You got it. This-” He tapped the vial with the kind of aggression that could only be restrained by pure smugness. “-is what’s left of that fuckass tree.”
… Qifrey was sure that his heart stopped. Olruggio, still grinning, glared the vial of sludge down like he wished he could dance on its grave for some reason, and all Qifrey could feel was numb.
‘What’s … left’? So … it’s gone?
“Coco is a lot worse of a liar than you, Qifrey. And also not as determined to keep those secrets in the first place. You really should have known after telling her that it was only a matter of time before she needed some comfort about it. And luckily, the person she told was me.”
It’s … gone? Really … really gone?
“... Well, okay, maybe it was after a bit of prodding. She seemed messed up after Silver Eve, after all, and I only wanted to help. I would’ve never guessed this, though. Even though it makes a lot of things make a whole lot more sense. The second I found out, I got to work on a fix. I wouldn’t call it pretty, but it never would’ve been. You’re okay and it’s gone. It was touch and go for way too long for my liking, and I am honestly really sorry about that, but still, at least it’s over now.”
… It’s … gone.
“Had to figure out how to integrate the right decorative sigil to use for silverwood trees so the spell would only burn it and not the rest of you, so that was a pain. Coco also told me that your eye is a silverwood prosthetic, so I had to figure out how to not burn you while also burning the tree while also not burning your eye, so that was even more of a pain. My poor component stock has been crying out for ages from all the testing. Honestly, you don’t half know how to make things complicated, don’t you-?”
It’s gone!
Another surge of energy saw Qifrey flinging his arms around Olruggio, holding him as tightly as his aching muscles would allow; Olruggio practically squawked in shock, and seemed to instinctively freeze up before thawing.
Qifrey’s heart was racing. His face crumpled against Olruggio’s chest, hearing the sound of his own heartbeat grounding him, loud and true. His eyes and face quickly became soaked in tears as his voice keened in a noise that he didn’t know humans could make; he realised numbly that his body might have forgotten how to cry properly.
It had been so long since he’d allowed himself this. Since he’d allowed himself most things.
It’s gone … it’s gone … i-it’s gone …
He trembled against Olruggio as every emotion under the sun kept wringing these mangled noises out of his throat. Olruggio started to shake as well, returning the embrace, fingers digging in with the kind of intensity that said he thought he might vanish under his hands if he let go even a little.
“... This is what you learned in the Tower Of Tomes all those years ago, wasn’t it? The moment that you … changed. But … you didn’t change, did you? You just … started hiding, that’s all. Well … you don’t need to hide anymore.”
The grip was hard enough to hurt, but Qifrey refused to ask him to let go. He didn’t know if he could.
He’d been waiting for this for so long.
“... You must’ve been so scared all this time, eh? I’m sorry I couldn’t help you before now … shit, Qifrey, I’m so sorry …”
Qifrey couldn’t help but whine. He didn’t know how to do any of this. Honesty didn’t come easily after all this time, despite how badly he’d wanted it. He felt like a newborn foal.
“Y-You helped … trust me, Olly, you helped so much … i-if anything, my friend, you helped me too much …”
Olruggio snorted wetly.
“Is … that supposed to be a compliment?”
Qifrey’s mouth wobbled into a smile.
“I-It’s meant to be.”
“... Terrible compliment. Might be the worst one I’ve ever gotten, actually.”
Qifrey couldn’t help but laugh. Delirium and exhaustion carried him through the least restraint he’d felt in years.
Olruggio pulled back just slightly and Qifrey fought a downright pathetic whine out of his throat, but he didn’t go too far. Just far away to cup Qifrey’s face again, and even through the blur, he could see the fondness in his watery eyes.
“... Yep. After all these years … there’s a real smile. Welcome back, snow for brains.”
His lip wobbled as he pulled Qifrey back in.
“I missed you.”
Qifrey choked as he settled himself in. It was everything he’d ever dreamed of. His body still ached, he was still so tired, but it was the best he’d felt in years. Maybe for as long as he could remember.
“... Thank you, Olly. Thank you, thank you, thank you ...”
Olruggio hummed softly as he laid his hand over the back of Qifrey’s head, playing with his hair. Qifrey’s still-weak hands laid perhaps too softly over the muscles of Olruggio’s back.
And he let himself breathe.
Everything felt right. He felt right.
He was soft. He was warm. He was safe.
He was home.
Qifrey was free.