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One look at Qifrey the witch and you might assume his hands are soft and smooth. Everything about him seems so perfect put together to the point where it’s almost disturbing. From perfectly ironed clothes, to the kind smile plastered to his face, Coco could also guess that his hands were unblemished in a way that left her wondering what his routine was.
And her guess was kind of right. His nails were always perfect. He never bit them when he was nervous or stressed, and he always took care to keep them at a length not too short but not too long either. What Coco had gotten wrong, however, was that Qifrey’s hands were quite calloused.
It did make sense when she thought about it for a bit. After all, between years upon years of drawing, the constant cooking he always seemed to be doing, and housekeeping chores around the atelier, there was no way his hands would be as perfect as the rest of him (though they were still graceful and elegant, calluses or not).
There was something else about them, though, that caught Coco’s attention.
She first noticed it while they went out shopping in Kalhn, buying food to make dinners and lunches, and browsing the stalls and shops across the city— courtesy of Tetia absolutely insisting on looking at all the dresses in every boutique they passed by, and Qifrey and Olruggio being unable to resist her puppy eyes.
“Master Qifrey?” Coco asked, grabbing his hand to get the man’s attention.
She could feel the rough spots on his cool fingers (that’s another thing she had noticed: Qifrey seemed to run rather cold, but aside from his witch’s cloak most of his clothes looked quite thin and not as warm as they could be…) as he ran them across her knuckles, bending down to hear her more clearly, “Yes, my little sprout?”
She and Qifrey watched as Tetia chatted away with Olruggio and Richeh while she pulled dresses from racks and held them up to a very unamused Agott, then hung them back up and grabbed new ones to shove into the girls arms and sent her to the fitting rooms.
“I was just wondering if we could stop by one of the magic supply shops before we left? I forgot I had a bottle of ink on my desk and Brushbuddy got to most of it before I realized…”
Qifrey chuckled and agreed, making note that he was running low on ink as well. They fell back into comfortable silence after that but Coco continued to hold onto his hand, poking and prodding mindlessly at the flesh instead of fiddling with her own hands or clothes like she normally would. It was then that she first noticed the faded, pink-ish, crescent marks that littered his skin.
It was odd, but she didn’t think much of it.
The next time she noticed it was during their lessons one day. It was gorgeous outside, the perfect temperature with a gentle breeze and not a single cloud as far as they could see. Olruggio had even been awake and made pudding for breakfast for everyone! So they took advantage of the wonderful weather and ate their pudding out in the field while Qifrey gave his lesson.
It was when he was showing Coco a way to make the spell she was practicing more efficient that she noticed the crescent shaped marks again, but they looked… darker than she remembered. Last time they were a light pink-ish, but this time they were a darker pink. Red-ish, almost.
She quietly pointed this out to him and he didn’t visibly startle at it, but he did pause for the slightest moment before brushing it off with a smile.
“Don’t worry about it, little sprout, I’m quite alright. Now, with this spell…”
Successfully diverting Coco’s attention by talk of magic, this little blip in their morning was quickly forgotten.
It was a few more weeks until the crescent marks were brought up again, and this time it wasn’t Coco who mentioned it.
Olruggio brought back souvenirs when he returned from his most recent commission. One of those gifts was a book of local tales and legends from the area the job took place, and Coco, Tetia, and Richeh managed to convince Agott to read the stories aloud to them. They huddled around the table to listen to the stories while Qifrey prepared lunch for them, and he sat to listen to the stories as well once everything was cleaned and put away. It was then that it was brought up.
“…Master Qifrey,” Richeh jabbed a finger towards the hand in his lap, “Blood.”
This caught the attention of all the girls and Tetia shrieked, “Oh my stars, Master Qifrey, you’re bleeding!”
Moments later, Olruggio’s heavy footsteps could be heard rushing towards the kitchen and as soon as he came into view, the girls' concerned voices overlapped as they all tried to tell him about Qifrey’s hand.
Olruggio’s eyes narrowed in half concern and half annoyance as he watched Qifrey try to lamely hide his hand behind his back. Qifrey’s expression could only be described as pathetic in that moment, like Brushbuddy knowing he’s been caught red handed while rolling around in a puddle of spilled ink.
“Qifrey…” Olruggio muttered. He marched over to his friend and dragged him up by the arm, pulling him into the washroom and opening up the first aid kit all while grumbling curses and complaints under his breath.
As Olruggio cleaned and wrapped up the injuries, Qifrey didn’t even pretend to look apologetic at this point, and instead was sort of blankly staring over Olruggio’s shoulder until four little heads popped up from the side of the doorway.
“Hello, sprouts. I didn’t mean to worry you,” he smiled weakly at the girls, “I’m alright, I promise.”
Neither the girls nor Olruggio looked impressed by this. Olruggio lightly kicked Qifrey in the shin.
“Really, I just haven’t trimmed my nails in a while, that’s all! I hadn’t realized how long they’ve gotten and it seems I accidentally scratched myself.” Qifrey laughed it off as always, and none of them really believed him but they knew saying anything would probably stress Qifrey out more so they dropped it for now.
Within the next couple days, the girls’ worry was replaced with excitement by a well timed trip to the city, and the whole incident was mostly put behind them.
(The distraction didn’t work on a certain flame witch, though. It never did. Olruggio was far too observant for his own good. What should have been a nice day in the city was instead a tense day between the two men, both knowing they needed to talk privately, both knowing Qifrey was using the girls as a way to postpone the conversation as long as possible.
But he could only put it off for so long, what with living in the same atelier and all. That same night, after their girls were tucked into bed and fast asleep, Olruggio met Qifrey outside on the hill to watch the stars and get the answers he so desperately wanted from his friend. That same night, warm fingers ran across the moon shaped scars that littered cold hands with the gentleness that was wholly undeserved. That same night, a truth was spoken, tears were shed, and just like the tens of hundreds of times before, a spell was drawn.
There was no lesson the next morning. Master Qifrey stayed in bed with a “migraine”, and he would be sure that his little sprouts and his dearest star wouldn’t notice this time around.)