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Qifrey the witch had had many chances to think on how he would be rid of his curse over the years. It mostly entailed following that steady spark of hatred that he felt in his chest, like a guidance orb that would lead him directly to the ones that had taken so much from him.
He was often distracted, however, the hate he felt being dissolved by the gentleness in the eyes of the people he loved, by the laugh of his four apprentices.
Because above all, Qifrey the witch was kind.
It was rather surprising, then, when the quest against the brimmed caps that had led him to the Forest of Thristas, ended by being ambushed by his friends. It was funny how that worked: in the end, Qifrey was saved not by his anger, but by the ones around him.
The spell that did it was rather strange. Parts of it binding while severing a tether that had held him prisoner for as long as he could remember. And then, the burning.
It felt like warmth extending over his entire body, comfortable at first, but growing through his nerves until he could only see white.
Suffice to say, it wasn’t a pleasant experience.
Yet, despite all odds, despite the fact that it shouldn’t have worked, that the plan was complete madness, well… Qifrey woke up. He had a strange kind of scarring snaking as far as he could see, and everything hurt, but aside from that, he was alive.
It took another day for Sinocia to check and recheck that he was good to go home.
A flurry of faces came and went; Beldaruit to softly pat his hair and assure him they would meet again soon, with an apologetic yet infinitely soft look to him, the girls to jump all over him, scarring be damned, and cry and laugh and stay as close as possible to their master as long as the doctors would let them.
Alaira and little Euini passed by briefly, and his old friend looked so relieved, yet so pained…
And then, there was Olruggio.
He had hardly left his side from the moment Qifrey woke up. Making sure nurses were called and that he had everything he needed. His friend was kind as always, warm as always, and yet, he could recognize trouble in Olly’s face, that grew and deepened as the hours passed.
That would be something to confront later. For now, he only had to survive a few more hours at the healing spire, tolerating the smell of salt and the constant fussing of everyone around him.
He was almost ready to go home.
The air near the atelier was getting warmer, it seemed. Spring was around the corner, and as four girls and two friends stepped from the windoway, Qifrey took a moment to just look at the scene.
The fields near his home were verdant, as if it had rained a few hours ago, and the skies were finally parting. It was getting late though, the last rays of the day meeting the horizon like an old friend.
Everything looked to be in the right place, his little troupe marching down the path already, yelling and jumping and laughing. He could feel something stirring within him then, and he froze. Panic rising in his stomach, ice in his limbs.
Maybe the curse wasn’t gone, maybe they had only bought themselves but little time. Maybe his apprentices were in danger again, maybe…
As he grasped at the edges of his own cloak, the pain he expected to blossom, old and familiar, never came. The sound of wood creaking, so loud within his skull, simply wasn’t there, leaving a deafening silence instead.
In the space where the silverwood had settled its roots, a knot of sadness took its home instead. But then again, he was pushed back into the moment, as a pink haired girl was yelling at him from down the hill to come over, and oddly, his stomach growled.
Life had to go on, and Qifrey walked down the hill, already thinking whether a stew or a soup would be better for dinner.
It was really remarkable how despite how tense and painful the last few weeks had felt, everything went back to well known habits quite quickly.
Tetia asked to be tucked in tightly, since she was always getting the bedding to fly from the bed while sleeping. Richeh wanted her hair braided, and Coco and Agott… well. When Qifrey went by to their bedroom, he was tackled by the embrace of his most recent apprentice, and the awkward “pat pat” kind of hug of his oldest one.
“I’m glad we’re back at the atelier” Coco mumbled, already drifting into sleep, “I’m glad you’re okay, Master Qifrey”
He was okay, wasn’t he? He was alive and well, and with a roof atop his head and there were a lot of things they still needed to figure out, and Coco’s mum was still under the forbidden spell’s influence and his body hurt like hell and he was so tired but he was okay. He was okay.
So why was it that his breath stopped in his lungs the moment he stepped from the girls' rooms? Why did he feel like trying to walk towards the kitchen was like swimming in a lake of broken ice?
Qifrey the witch was kind. This we know to be true, but in his time, he had also done some truly terrible things.
He had erased people's minds more times that he could recall, he had extorted and pushed the boundaries of what was healthy for himself and for others, all to satisfy an awfully sharp hunger that ate at him every night.
Qifrey couldn’t let himself be truly happy, so he chose to focus on his anger and anxiety instead. That seemed to work, for the most part, to fend out the constant warmth and comfort the people in his life provided him, and the threat it entailed for him.
Decades of anger and stress and pain don’t leave one’s system just by the source being extinguished though. He needed to get some air. Maybe find somewhere quiet to let his mask fall and let himself sob or scream or anything.
He realized then, that the single reason that was pinning him to the ground was probably not how he felt, or not knowing what to do next. The reason why he couldn’t leave the door is that he would have to face Olruggio.
By the time Qifrey got so irritated at himself from hiding in a shadowed corner of the house he decided to just get over it, he decided that facing his oldest and closest friend didn’t need to be such a big deal.
Yes, he had lied to Olly. He had had to wipe his best friend’s memories so many times it scared him some days, when he couldn’t help to think whether the next time, maybe Olruggio would forget him entirely, or worse, forget himself.
He had been selfish and cruel and had allowed himself to put everyone he loved in danger for as long as he knew them, all to stay alive. All to keep a promise.
Maybe his friend had already gone to bed and he didn’t need to worry so much. Maybe the looks of sadness and concern and softness he catched all throughout the day had been a fabric of his imagination. Olruggio was probably so busy with work, he might not see him for a few days.
Qifrey carefully walked into the kitchen, and found it empty. Yes, that was probably right.
As he came in view of the window, though, the knot in his chest returned. A blue and midnight cloak walked slowly towards a hill. Their hill. One perfect for stargazing and sunsets and conversations that always ended with the same bitter spell.
He couldn’t help but follow.
There was barely any light left, and with the warmth of the day quickly escaping, Qifrey started to feel very silly while walking up the hill, grey cloak flowing behind him. What did he expect to find? What was he going to say? He should probably think of something to say, but his head refused to come up with anything but static and panic, so he tried to focus on the chirps of the bugs and the sounds of the grass underneath his boots. It didn’t help much either.
By the time he reached where he supposed his friend would be, and seated beside him, the fear Qifrey felt had shut down any chance to say even a single hi, so the both of them just… sat in silence.
“I should've brought a lamp, huh?” Olly said casually. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, being sat in the middle of a field like they were. It managed to pry a small laugh from Qifrey, the way his friend was somehow always able to do.
“Or a blanket,” he continued- “are you cold?”
“I’m okay, Olly” Qifrey sounded more dismissive than he felt. “Just figured… l’m…” what.
Sorry? Definitely. Tired? Yes. Angry and scared and confused and terrified that you will not forgive me this time, because you have absolutely the right not to, and I would understand, and I’ve been so selfish, and I’m sorry.
A beat of silence. He could feel his friend's gaze trying to read his face for any clue of his thoughts.
“That day, when we took our third test, that was when it started, wasn’t it?” The voice in which his friend spoke was careful, as if he was scared Qifrey would disappear.
He felt his throat close and his breath catch, so Qifrey only nodded.
“You know, I always found it odd that you had taken my ornament without asking, but that was a promise, wasn’t it?” Olruggio let out a chuckle, and Qifrey was gathering every bit of strength he had to keep from crying in front of his friend.
“We made a promise, and you kept it. That’s all I need to know.”
And it was in that precise moment, the knot in Qifrey’s chest cracked, and he couldn’t help it anymore. He bent over himself and couldn’t stop his shoulders from shaking. He hated making his friend see him like this, but he was so tired of the masks and the careful facade, and there, without being able to stop it, years of pain came streaming out.
At some point, he realized he was warmer than he had been, and blinked to find himself buried in Olly’s arms. His friend was saying something above his head and over his cloak so he couldn’t quite hear, but he was calming down slowly. Warm and safe and loved and… in danger.
He jumped back immediately, reaching back out of habit to where his hat would have been. Except, he hadn’t walked out with his hat, and in his eye nothing blossomed. Only the heavy beating of his heart and the shocked look on his friend's face were there to meet him.
“I’m so sorry” he managed quietly, “you don’t know how… It killed me. It killed me every day and if I didn’t I would have betrayed you and if I did I would have betrayed you and it killed me, but you shouldn't have been a prisoner of this for so long. I’m sorry”
His voice came in a calm tone he didn’t feel. Already building the old walls around the crack that had opened in his chest.
“Prisoner?” Olruggio looked genuinely offended. “I chose this. I might not remember the initial choice, but there have been many years I can remember, Qifrey, and it was always the same choice.”
“Even if…” Qifrey started.
“Of course! What, and you thought I wouldn't realize you had secrets? I knew you would tell me when you needed to. Or not. And that was fine. I stayed because I wanted to, because…”
He trailed off, but Qifrey understood. And there it was, forgiveness. Underserved, unexplained, yet given once again.
They kept silent for a while then. Night came over them, as if it knew it would be easier to whisper secrets long buried if they were underneath a curtain of stars.
Qifrey shivered. Streaks of dried tears mixed with the cold of the air, and he took a deep breath. He knew, rationally, that the tree was gone. He knew, with almost complete certainty, that this was safe. There was only one way to find out for sure though.
He leaned on his friend’s side, not completely, and expecting to have to jump at any moment, but sharing in space all the same.
“Thank you,” no branches or leaves seemed to be eating him alive at the moment, so he continued, “thank you for staying.”
Qifrey genuinely didn’t think he could have made it otherwise.
Olruggio turned with a teasing expression on his face and got his own cloak over the both of them.
“Well of course. I had to make sure you didn’t get sick every time it rained by not remembering to get yourself dry” he added with a smile.
It was dark in the hills near the atelier, but to Qifrey it didn’t seem to matter. He seemed to be looking at all the light in the world.
In the closeness of the moment, he caught a glance he had seen many times, and always avoided, for he knew exactly where it led. He knew Olly’s eyes well enough to see that they were forming a question, and he knew his own heart well enough to know what the answer was.
He kissed his best friend half expecting it would kill him, and when it didn’t, he discovered that it wasn’t only sadness that lived within him trapped and hungry for air, but joy, too.
Joy, and hope for a life shared with his partner in life and with four incredible little witches, despite a seemingly infinite list of problems to solve come next morning. There, his hands around the person he loved, he knew it would be alright.