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Qifrey had been told that Castle Ezrest was even more grand than the Great Hall, and ... it wasn't as though he thought it was a lie, per se, but he just found it hard to believe.
Now, however, he was left in awe, craning his neck up as far as it could go just for a chance to see the tips of the spires. It was a beautiful place. Intimidating, certainly, but ... beautiful.
And it wasn't underwater. That was, perhaps pettily, a significant note in its favour.
Beldaruit lightly chuckled next to him, and he abruptly remembered that he was far from alone here; he couldn't quite choke back a squeak as he forced himself to look relatively normal, leaving him under no illusion that he could fool anyone, much less his master.
"Don't worry now, it's quite alright to stare. A marvel of construction, isn't it, lad?"
Engendale grumbled next to them; a stage-whispering 'Deepwater Castle is better' that made both the other Wises snort as the apprentices strategically remained silent.
"Ah, here we go again ..." An equally not-whisper whisper came in reply, coupled with a smile of fond exasperation.
"What? It's true, Beldaruit. And regardless, we shouldn't be gawking like tourists. We're witches. Especially during Silver Eve, we have a dignity we must uphold in front of Outsiders."
Engendale glared at Qifrey out of the sides of his eyes in that way that adults did so often when he'd done something wrong without knowing. Qifrey made himself as small as he felt and hid himself from the Wise's sight with Beldaruit's sealchair as they walked.
Beldaruit's smile briefly twitched.
"Witches we may be, but we are also tourists here, Engendale."
Vinanna smirked a little before schooling her expression back to neutrality; it was a routine that anyone who spent enough time with Beldaruit knew, refusing to look entertained by anything he did because you knew that he'd never let it go.
He didn't pounce on the reaction, though. At least not for the moment. Odd.
"And besides that, he's a child. This is something new and exciting. Leave him be."
Qifrey tried clutching at Olruggio's ribbon without making it too obvious that that was what he was doing. He wished Olruggio was here. He didn't like having people's eyes on him like this, but it was manageable when he was here. So much was manageable when he was here. Too much. He was sorry. Oh, he was so sorry.
"Lagrah and Easthies are also children, and you don't see them acting out. Your whelp had better not make a fool of the Great Hall in front of the royals, Belda-"
"Engendale."
Before Beldaruit could even speak up (and it looked like that was only a second away), Vinanna did instead; Wise or not, you'd have to be a fool to keep speaking when the captain of the Knights Moralis used that kind of tone.
Easthies seemed as chronically unenthused as ever. Lagrah looked more than a little bit like he wanted to sink into the floor.
"If our standing with them is so fragile that merely seeing a child impressed by architecture is enough to damage their perception of us, then said child is the least of our concerns, wouldn't you say? Calm down."
Engendale returned to grumbling, although noticeably meeker than it was before. Beldaruit, apparently satisfied with the resolution, subtly hooked his fingers under Qifrey's cap and ruffled his hair with the utmost gentleness; Qifrey allowed himself the tiniest shred of pride that he didn't flinch this time.
(And then he felt that telltale itch under his skin and flinched anyway. Beldaruit drew his hand away like it burned and looked so guilty that it hurt. Qifrey readjusted his skewed cap, wishing that he could say that it wasn't his fault, but the threat of those damned roots kept him silent in a way he was terrified of getting used to.
They inched back, slowly, tauntingly. Qifrey wished so dearly that he could simply tear them from his veins. Whatever pain would be required to take them out, surely it would be better than living like this, knowing he was doomed to hurt everyone around him, making them think he didn't care (or worse) when nothing could be further from the truth.)
"... That aside, though ... won't that 'marvel of construction' be causing a problem for you quite soon?"
Vinanna's words made Beldaruit's guilt flash into annoyance with a swiftness that Qifrey wasn't sure would ever not be dizzying, but at least it was a hard line drawn under his own discomfort for now.
The confusion replaced it, though, as they stopped in front of the castle doors instead of continuing straight through. 'Problem'? What problem?
"Yes, quite ... no sealchair inside ... what a bother ..."
... What?
Qifrey blinked in confusion, waiting for an elaboration, but it wasn't coming; instead, Beldaruit batted his eyelashes theatrically at a visibly mentally exhausted Engendale as Vinanna smirked despite herself.
"Oh, Engie-dear~?"
"... Oh, why me? Vinanna would be better suited, she's the one who actually does physical work."
"Gasp! As if I would ask a lady to carry me through these winding halls all week~"
"He knows I'd drop him-"
"I know she'd drop me-"
"I also want to drop you, you damn blowhard-!"
Beldaruit laughed, but the sound cut itself off as he noticed Qifrey's hand, shyly placed on the arm rest of his sealchair to grab his attention without being too intrusive.
(He still didn't really want to look Engendale too closely right now.)
"Oh? What's the matter, my boy?"
"Wh- ... why can you not take your sealchair inside? Are the hallways too narrow here too? Or ... something like that ..."
... With every word, he could feel Engendale's eyes on him more and more. He'd caught a glimpse of Easthies too, before he couldn't look any longer. He sounded stupid. They thought he sounded stupid. He'd make the Great Hall look stupid. This was probably common knowledge that he should know, that he might have known before he'd had his memories erased, but now he just didn't, and he hated it, he hated not knowing, he hated feeling helpless.
Qifrey huddled closer to the side of the sealchair. He just wanted to know why Beldaruit couldn't move around how he liked to. That, at its core, wasn't a stupid thing to wonder, right?
"Ah, right ... I forgot that I needed to tell you. My mistake, lad, not yours, try not to worry about it."
His hand went back to Qifrey's hair again; at least the shame and embarrassment was enough to keep the roots at bay for now, so he could breathe through the soft touch for just a little while.
"Nothing about Castle Ezrest itself is that much harder to navigate in a sealchair than Deepwater, honestly. The issue is ... actually getting a sealchair in there and functioning, when it's guarded by a spell that prevents magic, even from contraptions, being cast inside in the first place."
Qifrey's eye widened.
That ... that was possible?
His voice shuddered out quietly, unwillingly.
"I-Isn't that ... dangerous, then?"
And not just for Beldaruit, either. Qifrey wasn't even planning on using magic in here, but ... the fact that the option wasn't even there at all made him feel ... uncomfortable.
('Vulnerable'. 'Defenceless'. Those were better words. But they made his damn skin itch, so he was trying really hard to not think about them.)
Beldaruit's gaze softened. Engendale rolled his eyes. Lagrah gave him a look of sympathy that was just a bit too specific for his liking. Easthies looked as carefully neutral as ever.
Vinanna scoffed lightly.
"In theory, yes, there's no denying that we don't have as much of an edge over the Outsiders in there as we're used to. But in practice, no. It would be political suicide for anyone there to try and hurt us. And if anyone did try anyway, then we've got support; my Knights will be there with us, and we don't need spells to hold our own."
Her grin radiated pride, sharp but still warm.
"So try not to worry about that, either. You're safe, brat. I've got you."
She spoke in that 'Captain Voice' that left no room for argument. She said it, so it simply must be so. It settled something in him. Not completely ('completely' would be bad anyway, with his condition), but enough.
(He'd be safe in there. They all would. There would be no ... m-monsters coming to steal them away in the night to do unspeakable, all-ruining things. He wouldn't lose anyone. He wouldn't lose more of his body or soul.
He wouldn't lose 'Qifrey'. Despite the heartache so far, perhaps selfishly, he quite liked being Qifrey. Or at least, the idea of being made into anything else was deeply terrifying. He didn't want to have to do that again.)
His thoughts must have shown on his face, to some degree, for Vinanna to be so unusually gentle as she also ruffled his hair. For as nice as it was, he really did need to get better at that, and quickly; the people around him were too smart for him to get away with being such a poor liar.
"Now if you're done, could we get a move on?" Engendale returned to grumbling as he manhandled a thoroughly unbothered Beldaruit into his arms. "Tardiness would reflect poorly on us."
"Now, now, don't be Angy-dale~"
"Do not make me drop you."
"Would infighting not also reflect poorly on us?"
"Don't you start too, Vinanna ..."
Their countenance was light with laughter, even from a begrudging Engendale, as the Wises crossed the threshold into the castle. Lagrah and Easthies followed their masters close behind, almost duckling-like.
None of them were worried. So there really was nothing to worry about ... right?
... Right.
Qifrey took a breath as he followed them through the doors, and-
... And he'd barely taken a step inside before stumbling to a stop.
The castle interior looked even more beautiful now that he was closer. But that wasn't what grabbed his attention.
What seized Qifrey like a hand around his throat was the fact that ... the everpresent squirming and tightness in his body, his muscles, his lungs, his heart, his bones, his damn brain ... in that moment ... it was all just ... gone.
He was suddenly left off-balance, and he numbly thought that it might have been from the weight of the roots themselves. He never even realised how much of a weight they were.
He could breathe. He didn't even know before this that it was hard to breathe, but ... he could really breathe now. He felt ... light. Free.
Free?
Was this ... how it was meant to feel? What had even just happened? What-
Qifrey's thoughts were swimming, racing, incoherent but overwhelming as the chatter and footsteps of the Wises and their apprentices sounded worlds away, and he stumbled again, back through-
Back through the door. Back outside.
And-
And the weight descended back on him in an instant. A sickening, crushing weight.
The wriggling was back, the squeezing, a buzzing under his skin that he didn't, couldn't recognise as suffocating before he'd had even one moment without it.
Just that brief relief, the hope that it might be over, had been enough to feed the damn thing. He felt the pressure running through his empty eye socket, desperate to emerge.
Only for the slightest of moments, though. It receded as quickly as it started to grow, as Qifrey staggered against Beldaruit's sealchair outside, craving steady ground, his head in his hands as he tried so hard not to cry.
'No magic could be cast inside'. That meant that the spell on the castle likely acted on conjuring ink itself, the lifeblood of every spell in existence. And conjuring ink was made from woodcruor, from silverwood trees. So ... the castle's spell, fundamentally, targeted the silverwood.
So ... it wasn't just a moment of luck, of fate deciding to show mercy to Qifrey for once. It was Castle Ezrest itself. For as long as he was inside, the silverwood would cower into submission, and he would be allowed to live as a normal human being. The second he left, though, it would dig its claws back in as harshly as ever, and he would have to wait like anxious prey for it to bite again. This was a temporary reprieve. Nothing more.
That ... th-that wasn't fair ... that just wasn't fair ... y-you couldn't just show me what a life without this damn thing would look like when I'll have to go back to it as soon as I leave this place ... it wasn't fair ... it wasn't fair ... it wasn't fair ...
There was a voice behind him. A hand. It touched him. He flinched, violently, and it tore his tears into a choking sob.
The voice spoke again. Louder. Shaky, concerned. He dimly registered it as Lagrah's.
He heard footsteps. More voices. One annoyed. One frantic.
"Q-Qifrey?"
One of the voices was closer. There was motion in the sealchair. Weight.
(Ah. Engendale had put Beldaruit back down.)
"Q-Qifrey, Qifrey, are you okay? S-Speak to me, my boy, it's alright ..."
He sounded worried. Qifrey had worried him. The guilt only added to the storm in his gut.
Hands cupped themselves around his face. Gentle hands, raising his head up and growing wet with his tears.
(It figured, that even after losing his eye, his right tear duct was relatively unscathed. That side could still cry just fine, and cry it did. It felt appropriate, really. He hated it.)
Qifrey couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He knew he shouldn't be acting this way, he just didn't know how, and couldn't care right now. He just ... h-he just ...
"I-I don't wanna go in there, Master ..."
He didn't want to have the time to get used to that feeling. He didn't want to be able to hope that it might stay gone even after leaving the castle, only to have that hope be dashed all over again. He didn't want to start dreaming treacherous dreams of being able to stop lying, to love freely, to live as a human being and not a dead man walking, a ghost in his own skin, a poisonous mass of flesh waiting to rot and bring everyone he ever loved down with him into hell.
(His hands clutched around the ribbon tight enough to leave grooves in the skin. He was sorry. For everything. Olruggio, he was so, so sorry.)
"O-Okay, okay, that's okay, I understand, Qifrey, Qifrey-"
Warm hands, trembling hands, pressed lightly on the cheek under Qifrey's good eye, a quietly desperate plea; sniffling, Qifrey opened it, to face Beldaruit gazing at him with such a sad little smile.
"I understand."
No you don't. You can't. Not really. If you understood, you wouldn't treat me this kindly. You wouldn't look at me like a person. You would never have let me stay in the Great Hall, and I would never have been able to ruin Olruggio's life.
You made a horrible mistake, and I hope you never find out.
... I'm the worst. Just ... the worst ...
Tears kept coming. But Beldaruit didn't pull his hands away.
"Qifrey, I-" He gulped around something, and took a second to gather his words again. "I have to stay here. As a Wise, I can't not stay in Castle Ezrest during Silver Eve. But ... you don't have to. I could make other arrangements for you, to stay somewhere else, if you'd prefer. Olruggio mentioned that he'd be in Ezrest too, right? You can stay with him while the festival is going on, how does that sound?"
It sounded wonderful. It sounded terrible. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
But the tears were drying. Maybe he was just tired. Stars knew that he was so tired.
"Until I can make those arrangements, though ... could I ask you to stay in the castle for just a little while, so I can know that you're safe?" Beldaruit thumbed the last few tears away, under both Qifrey's good side and his bad. "I'll stay right by your side the whole time. I promise you, no-one will hurt you for as long as I'm here. Be brave for me, little one, alright? For just a little while longer?"
Qifrey sniffled away the last of his tears. Shakily, somehow, he managed to muster a nod.
He could swear that he heard Beldaruit sniffle too. He gently squeezed Qifrey's cheeks before leaning forward and laying a brief kiss at his hairline.
"There's my brave boy~"
(He refused, at least for now, to think about how that probably hurt Beldaruit to do, with his brittle bones. He refused, likely forever, to think about any part of this for too long, with how he could always feel the roots chomping at the bit.
Maybe one day, he could let himself feel all of this freely. But that day was so ... so far out of reach.)
Beldaruit must have given Engendale a look, with how he was lifted back out of the sealchair. Even he wasn't grumbling now, somehow, although Qifrey could still feel him look at him like he was something dirty.
Beldaruit's hands trailed to the ribbon on Qifrey's cap, as his face grew out of reach.
"... You know, I'm quite glad that Olruggio gave you his ribbon. It makes it so much easier to hold onto you."
He sounded so soft, so sincere. The tears nearly burst through again. Qifrey fought them with everything he had.
He sure felt like something dirty.
"... He didn't give it to me. I took it from him."
He couldn't explain that day to anyone else. He could never. But he never wanted it forgotten that he was nothing but a thief, a scammer swindling Olruggio into a deal he could never take back, Qifrey's life at the cost of Olruggio's freedom, an exchange no sane person would ever make.
'Partners' only in the way that a parasite needed a host.
Beldaruit simply hummed; warmly, kindly, knowingly despite the fact that he knew nothing about any of this.
"... Oh, I'm sure."
... Qifrey didn't know what that meant. His mind was too tired to even begin to figure it out, let alone to know why it sounded like Beldaruit was smiling when he said it.
But Engendale walked them back inside. Beldaruit refused to let go of the ribbon. Qifrey followed behind like a scolded dog on a leash.
Through the doorway, he could see Lagrah wringing his fingers nervously, before making his expression neutral when Engendale gave him a look. Vinanna too, looked somewhat distraught before remembering where and who she was; she lightly tapped a staring (judgemental, Qifrey could tell) Easthies on the head with her pennant before continuing to walk, to which he and Lagrah dutifully turned and followed.
Qifrey looked down. He wasn't planning on looking back up any time soon.
He could feel it again, when they crossed the threshold. The curse, the pain, sinking from perception like the tide. Qifrey choked back a whimper as he scuttled closer to Beldaruit, grasping his small hand around the one gently but firmly holding onto the ribbon.
(Don't hold too tight. Don't you dare hurt him. You already do that enough.)
Beldaruit made a little noise of surprise before adjusting his grip to hold Qifrey back. He seemed happy.
But the ribbon still laid between them. An inescapable reminder, as if Qifrey could ever forget anyway.
Within these walls, he was finally allowed to be happy without fear. It just made it feel worse that all he wanted to do was cry.
He'd never felt so free. And he'd never felt so trapped.