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“Repeat it back to me. Word for word, so I know you were listening.”
Olruggio paces the length of his tower like a lone scalewolf during molting season. His hair itches, his beard is half a centimeter too long, and he’s behind by weeks on commissions— but by the Five Rulers, he was determined to get this one thing right.
“Master Olruggio, you don’t have to feel so pressured,” Coco offers. She and Agott kneel before him on the paving stones, hands folded patiently in their laps, but their teacher only sighs louder.
He runs a tight hand through his hair, which slicks back wonderfully from the buildup of stress sweat. “For my own sanity, please. Just repeat it.”
Coco and Agott exchange looks. Agott rolls her eyes, but even the atelier’s most no-nonsense apprentice can see how much this means to him. After all, it’s not every day that their harried, scatterbrained, and utterly in love watchful eye worked up enough courage to propose to his lifelong best friend and lover. And Agott? She knew one or two things about being in love with your best friend.
“Keep an eye on Master Qifrey and don’t let him near the tower room,” Agott repeats obediently, Coco half a step behind her so their voices echo. “Make sure he’s out of the house when Mr. Nolnoa comes to deliver the silverwood for carving the rings.”
Olruggio nods. He turns towards the third girl, who is lounging on a sack chair in the corner. “And you, Richeh?”
“Keep Brushbuddy away from the wood. Little teethmarks are not desirable on a wedding ring.” Richeh looks up at him sleepily through long blue locks, giving him a thumbs up. The creature in question was nowhere to be seen– it refused to come within ten feet of him ever since he gave it a bath last week.
“And lastly?” He prompts all three of them.
“Don’t tell Tetia,” they chorus in unison. “She’ll spill the beans.”
+++
Despite being the watchful eye of the Atelier, Olruggio was aware that Qifrey was often the one with a sharper gaze. Lately, those eyes had begun to follow him at unwanted times— while stirring his tea, hemming his cloak, or bending over to surreptitiously check if his delivery of wood polish had arrived. He was looking forward to Mr. Nolnoa’s delivery day, because he knew that Qifrey had been summoned to the Great Hall on training notice, and maybe, finally, the other witch could find some semblance of privacy away from those prying blue eyes.
“It seems that there’s been a change of plans,” Qifrey breezes into the dining room just minutes after departing, his going-out robes swirling behind him.
Olruggio nearly jumps out of his beard, biting back a yelp. He shoves the blueprints he had been sketching back into his pocket, the parchment crinkling. Hastily, Coco shoves a cracker into her mouth, crunching down loudly to disguise the sound.
“Ahem.” Olruggio clears his throat. “Qifrey. Aren’t you supposed to be at the Great Hall? I thought you had your mandatory public relations training today.”
“I dare say that luck has smiled upon me, because Master had the training moved back a month.” Qifrey waves his hand, as if dispelling the smoke illusions of Beldaruit that no doubt had been swirling around to deliver the news. “Now that my morning is free, I’m inclined to share it with all of you, if you’ll have me.”
The witch busies himself with pulling out various pots and utensils. “Tetia,” he calls, “bring me the cast iron, would you? I’d like to try my hand at something heartier this morning.”
Tetia hurries to retrieve the pot from the shelf while Agott and Richeh exchange looks. Mr. Nolnoa was due to deliver the silverwood in less than a clockmark, and there would be no hiding that from the sharp observance of their master.
“Isn’t there anything else we can do, Master Qifrey?” Coco is still chewing the crackers. A few crumbs fly out, which are hastily vacuumed up by Brushbuddy. “Like… shopping in Karoon, maybe? I heard there was a sale going on this week in the calling papers.”
“I’d like to enjoy a day inside if possible, Coco.” Qifrey smiles gently as he picks various ingredients from the hanging bunches of herbs in the kitchen. Saltmary and a clove of garlic go into a bowl, along with a dash of allspice. His deft fingers massage the mixture, turning it over several times. “It’s not often that we all have a day off together, no?”
“Professor is about to lose all of his hair,” Richeh whispers to Agott. The two glance at Olruggio, who is indeed pulling at his roots like an anxious bird.
“But that’s all the more reason to go out!” Coco waves her arms. “We can go to the pet shop to see the baby doelings, or we could have breakfast at the Crystal Cup!”
She zeroes in on Agott, grabbing her hand. “You’d like to go with me, right Agott? We could have so much fun!”
Though Coco’s eyes are trained on Qifrey, Agott turns a deep shade of scarlet. “Of course I would,” she stammers. “I’d love to go with you.”
Qifrey’s good eye glances between them. The girls’ earnestness is becoming harder to deny, and he wasn’t one to get in the way of young love. “If I finish searing these lamb chops early, then possibly—”
A loud crash interrupts him. Tetia peers down from the top step of the stool she was using to reach the kitchen shelf, peering down at their nice cast-iron cooking pot. It’s sitting upright on the ground, and would be wholly unharmed if not for the clean, even fissure that cracks it down the middle from the impact onto the stone floor.
“Those pots are heavier than I expected!” Tetia rubs her neck sheepishly. “Sorry about that, Master.”
Qifrey sighs, looking at the spices coating his hands. “I guess it’s decided then. Off to Karoon we go.”
The cast iron pot is a tragically expensive accident, but at least Qifrey would be away from the atelier for a few hours. Olruggio’s head slumps down into his arms as he lets out a groan of relief. Richeh pats him on the back before the girls hurry to go about their day.
Olruggio hands Qifrey a sum of coins and bids the group farewell on the porch, watching their robes fade into the sky like a flock of colorful birds. Not half a clockmark passes before another figure appears up in the clouds.
“Good day to you, Mr. Olruggio! It’s been ages since I last saw you!” Mr. Nolnoa calls from the sky, hovering above the grassy hillside for a moment before settling down, his sylph shoes disengaging gently. “The girls passed by on my left just now! They seem well.”
“Mr. Nolnoa,” Olruggio greets him, nodding. He hopes that Qifrey hadn’t spotted him in return. “How is Tartah doing? I heard he started his apprenticeship under Master Oswald.”
“Learning well, from the letters I’ve received,” Mr. Nolnoa laughs. “It seems that he’s been butting heads with his roommate, a young boy named Kelpie.”
“All youngsters argue sometimes. You should see how Agott and Richeh were when they first met.”
“A regular storm, I’m sure.” Mr. Nolnoa dusts off his robes as he untangles the delivery bag from his back. “Here is your order. I suspect this batch is going to serve a romantic purpose, yes?”
The old wandmaker winks at Olruggio, who blusters in surprise.
“How did you know? It was supposed to be a secret.”
“Silverwood is an unusual choice for anything except ink, or the most important occasions.” Mr. Nolnoa replies. He begins digging in a pouch around his waist. “And you, Olruggio, are no ink maker.”
Olruggio huffs at that. “I managed to temper the glow solution in the ink after a few tries.”
“Only after turning the entire pot of it bright pink.” Mr Nolnoa laughs. “In any case, you have my congratulations. Take this— an early wedding present, if you will.”
He hands Olruggio a heavy leather sheath. Unbuckling it, Olruggio finds an intricate blade, runes circling the polished hilt like stars.
“Self-sharpening,” Mr. Nolnoa declares proudly. He runs a finger down the blade fondly. “My wife used it for many years to carve pens of all kinds. Use it proudly, for your rings.”
Olruggio’s eyes widen in surprise. Until Tartah’s arrival in Karoon a couple of years ago, Mr. Nolnoa had been alone in The Starry Sword. The old shopkeeper never spoke about the family he had lost, nor had Olruggio ever asked.
He tries to hand the blade back to the other man, unbalanced by the sudden weight of memories in his palm. “This should stay with you then, sir. I can’t accept it.”
“Nonsense, boy.” Mr. Nolnoa smiles, folding Olruggio’s fingers over the hilt. “You of all people know what it means to craft an object with love, do you not?” He presses the hilt of the blade to Olruggio’s chest. “An object holds not only the memory of its creator, but the memory of those it is gifted to. Remember that when you take a knee.”
Olruggio grips the knife. It rests in the curve of his palm, settling there the longer he holds it. The knife balances itself, as if it senses a new future in the possibility of his grip.
“Thank you, sir,” He responds after a moment. “I promise I’ll use it well.”
“Of course you will.” Mr. Nolnoa’s eyes sparkle with kindness. “I wish you happiness in matrimony, Olruggio of the Torch.”
The old shopkeeper rises into the sky, and he’s gone.
+++
A cold wind has picked up in the hour that Qifrey and the apprentices spent shopping in The Copperpot Toad, Karoon’s artisan cookware shop. It sweeps through the narrow cobbled streets, rippling their robes as they huddle together.
“My, the weather is beginning to chill me to the core.” Qifrey remarks, peering up into the sky through his spectacles. He holds out a hand to test the moisture in the air. “Why don’t we ask a shopkeeper if we can borrow a windowway back to the atelier? Best to head inside before we catch a cold.”
Agott and Coco exchange glances. A windowway would drastically cut down the time needed to travel back– Olruggio might not be done picking up the delivery yet. Coco opens her mouth, but Agott beats her to the punch.
“Wait!” She blurts out, stopping in her tracks. “Master Qifrey, we can’t go back yet.”
“That’s quite a request, to stop one from entering his own home,” Qifrey replies. He smiles at her through his spectacles. “Might I ask what the matter is, Agott?”
Agott’s face screws up, and she fidgets with the hem of her cloak. “I…” She grasps for a reason, any reason, under Qifrey’s piercing blue gaze. “I, um… I saw this sigil on a poster and I wanted to know how to use it.”
She points to a random flyer posted in a shop window, a few yards away, then wanders over to read it.
BASIC PRIMER SPELLS FOR THE YOUNGEST WITCH. The title itself seems to regard her with skepticism. The grasping wind spell is drawn on the page in thick black ink.
Tetia and Richeh glance at Agott, whose face is now burning with embarrassment. “I just forgot what it is.” Her voice squeaks at the end.
Qifrey hides his smile behind a pondering hand on his chin. “Why, I think one can decipher the purpose of a spell from the sum of its parts.” He taps the sign. “You recognize the wind sigil in the center, yes?”
Agott wants desperately to tell him exactly what rune it is and the exact way it’s drawn, but she forces her pride back down her throat, playing dumb for the sake of their watchful eye. “Yes, Master Qifrey. It's a wind rune.”
“And the keys here?”
“Pulling signs.”
“So putting the clues together, what do you think this spell is?”
Agott searches for an answer close to the truth. “... passing wind.”
Tetia and Richeh erupt into a fit of giggles. Qifrey cracks a smile despite himself, and Brushbuddy begins to wave its front paws around, as if warding off a foul stench. Only Coco has managed to keep her composure through all of it.
“Agott just wanted to ask you how to improve upon it!” Coco lies earnestly. She steps in front of her friend, hands clasped behind her back. “She just wants to perfect it, and maybe add a decorative sigil to make it prettier.”
Agott feels Coco’s hands reach behind her, grasping hers. Her cheeks heat up again, but for a different reason this time.
“I thought maybe you could show us how to add decor to a spell,” she builds upon Coco’s excuse, stepping forward to stand next to her friend. “Can you show us how, before we head back?”
“Why, of course.” Qifrey humors the girls, but a genuine spark of delight has appeared in good eye. “There are many things you can add to a spell to give it a personal touch. Color, for example, or as Agott said, a decorative sigil…”
He leads them towards a lounge, Tetia following close behind him.
Agott, Coco, and Richeh exchange glances before following him, the former two still hand in hand. The crisis had been averted, for now.
+++
Back at the atelier, the ring begins to take shape beneath Olruggio’s diligent hands. During the weekdays, he maintains his normal schedule of commissions and watching over the girls, and on weekends he pulls out his carving blueprints while Agott and Coco keep an eye on the bridge that connects his tower to the rest of the atelier.
He works on the ring on his workshop table by the hearth– while it would be easier to use a light spell to illuminate the room, he finds the fire’s presence helps him concentrate, even if the low light is ruining his eyesight.
“Fuck! I just need to…” Olruggio groans loudly. This particular Saturday is not going as planned, and he can feel a stress headache building up from the intense focus. The knife Mr. Nolnoa gave him is sharp, but handling it well enough to carve the exact designs he wants is another matter entirely. He rubs at the wobbly stars he’s etched into the wood, hoping the mistakes aren’t too visible once the polish is painted on.
“Olly?”
Olruggio jumps at a knock on his door, panic rising in him as Qifrey’s voice comes drifting through the crack at the bottom.
Where are the girls? They’re supposed to be on watch!
“Are you alright in there?” Qifrey’s voice lilts. “That’s the third… vocalization I’ve heard from your tower since noon.”
“I’m fine!” Olruggio shouts back. He shuffles his papers to the side of the desk as a precaution, throwing his robe over them. His door is locked, but Qifrey had a habit of using lockpicking spells whenever it suited his fancy, and he was taking no chances. “I’m just… taking care of some things. No need to come in.”
“Are you sure about that?” There’s a hint of a smile beneath Qifrey’s voice, which has dropped to a sensual purr. “I could lend you a hand, if needed.”
Qifrey thinks I’m… oh. The realization makes his face burn.
“I’m not–! Five rulers, not now, Qifrey! I’m busy taking care of something!”
“Really? It sounds like you could use my help~” his lover purrs through the door again. The lock begins to click, and Olruggio closes his eyes and lifts his face in resignation when a shout suddenly interrupts them.
“Master Qifrey!” Olruggio hears a muffled thump and a yelp, as if Qifrey has bumped his head on the frame. Tetia’s voice drifts down the halls cheerfully.
“Ah– yes, Tetia?”
“You’ve gotta come right away! Your decoration spell worked, my pyreball is bright pink!’
“That’s great!” Qifrey praises her. “Is there a reason you need my attention immediately, or can this wait for just a moment?”
There’s a pause. “Well, it kind of spread to my papers.”
“You know the watershot seal, don’t you? Go ahead and put it out.”
“And maybe my desk too.”
“Maybe you should have led with that, dear.” Qifrey's voice fades as he hurries away, footsteps thumping down the hall.
Olruggio breathes a sigh of relief, and decides that perhaps a chair under the door handle would do the trick next time.
+++
Qifrey doesn’t get anywhere near the tower for the next week, and the chair goes unneeded. Today, the girls are playing outside and Qifrey is safely in the kitchen, the clatter of pans echoing in the hallway. He can hear him humming a love song through the vents, the gentle melody drifting along like smoke through a chimney.
There’s a strange scratching noise at the door as Olruggio finishes carving the bands; long, curling shavings of wood falling from the blade of his knife.
“Hello?” He calls out gruffly. He wonders if it’s one of the girls, but there's no answer, so he returns to his work.
A few minutes pass, and the sound resumes.
“You can open the door if you need.”
The scratching pauses for a moment before becoming more intense, as if someone is trying to shove something soft under his door.
Olruggio tosses the knife and the rings aside in annoyance, marching over to the door and swinging it wide open. “What do you want?”
Approximately two seconds pass between Olruggio opening his workshop and Brushbuddy launching itself at his face, and he ducks out of sheer instinct because the fuzzy missile is so much more aerodynamic than he thought. The air whistles as it flies right by his ear and square onto his desk, ignoring the piles of silverwood shavings on the floor to grab one of the the half-finished rings, scurrying out of the room before he can react.
“Fuck!” Olruggio yelps. He races after the creature, nearly slamming into the doorframe as it evades his grasp. He chases it through the house, dodging shelves and chairs, nearly tripping on three piles of textbooks, a basket of laundry, and the broken cast iron pot on the way down to the first floor.
In the kitchen, Brushbuddy sits on Qifrey’s blind side, the silverwood ring grasped between its teeth.
“Ah! Good afternoon my dear.” Qifrey stirs a pot of tea over the stove. He smiles when he spots his lover. “Would you like some tea? You’ve been holed up in your room for so long; you must be dehydrated.”
Olruggio tries to scoot closer to the brushbug, who glares at him defiantly. Who knew those beady eyes could hold so much hate? Olruggio is sure that this is a revenge plot for the bath he had dunked it in two weeks prior.
“I’m alright,” Olruggio replies, voice tight. “I uh, just wanted to come see what you were doing.” He plants a quick kiss on Qifrey’s lips, reaching for the brushbug, but it dodges out of the way. “And stretch my legs a bit.”
“Are you sure about that?” Qifrey maintains his smile as he kisses back. “You’ve been shut up in that room an awful lot. Care to tell me what you’ve been up to?”
“Nothing.” Olruggio squirms under his gaze. His eyes are still locked onto the marauding brushbug. Can you flip someone off with just three fingers? “Just lots of commissions to complete.”
“And is there anything I’d need to know about?” Qifrey finishes stirring the tea, tapping the spoon on the rim. “Anything at all?”
The brushbuddy gathers its haunches under it, preparing to spring onto the counter.
“NO!” Olruggio shouts. He makes a wild grab for the bug as it launches itself forward, his hand knocking into the faucet as he reaches out. Both Qifrey and the brushbug startle as the water turns on high, a spout erupting into the sink and distracting them long enough for Olruggio to seize the creature. He stuffs it into his pants pocket, where it lets out a muffled PWEE from the depths of the fabric.
“Dear me, the kitchen sink is getting squeaky again, isn’t it?” Qifrey flicks the faucet off, shaking his hand vigorously. “Well, if there’s anything you must confess, you know where to find me.”
“... Right. I’ll be going, then.”
Olruggio hurries back to his room, heart beating fast. He pulls Brushbuddy out of the pocket, dangling it by the scruff as he holds it up to his face.
“I swear once this is over, I’m going to turn you into a pair of gloves.”
“Mbee.”
+++
For the rest of the week, Brushbuddy is relegated to a cooking pot with a glass lid over the top, watched over dutifully by Richeh. It glares at him balefully every time he meets its eyes. Agott, Coco, and Tetia are in the kitchen with Qifrey, providing ample distraction while Olruggio begins to carve the most complex part of the ring– an inkwell in the center, complete with a repetition and rehydration spell. Wherever Qifrey went, he wouldn’t be without ink at his fingertips.
He begins with carving the water sigil in the inner well, lines twisting along the natural grooves in the wood. But as he completes the outer ring around the rim of the cup, the heavy knife slips in his grasp. The blade slices open the tip of his ring finger as it falls, clattering onto the ground.
“Fuck!” Olruggio swears in pain, blood welling up and running into the inkwell. It mixes into the fresh silverwood sap leaking from the cuts, curdling into a dark maroon ink.
“Professor Olruggio?” Richeh hurries to his side. She picks up the knife on the floor, placing it carefully on the table before helping him wrap his finger in his robes. “You’re bleeding pretty badly. Richeh is going to get Master Qifrey.”
Olruggio tries to protest, but the apprentice is just as stubborn as the teachers she learns from. “I’m going to, and you can’t stop me. There’ll be no finger to put the ring on otherwise.”
She hurries away, bare feet pattering on the paving stones.
“Olruggio, my star? Are you alright?” Qifrey hurries into the room, the apprentices hot on his heels. As a group, they help him to the kitchen, whereTetia quickly brings over a stack of towels and antiseptic paste.
“I suppose you’ve seen my secret now,” Olruggio murmurs as Qifrey wraps his ring finger in layers of gauze. It would have been impossible not to, with his blueprints laying out on the desk.
“I didn’t see a thing,” Qifrey smiles, but his lips quirk up at the corners knowingly.
“Don’t lie to me, Qifrey. Just tell me what you think.”
“I don’t need to,” Qifrey counters, “Did you really think you could hide such an important occasion from me? I’ve known from the moment you began scheming with my apprentices up in your tower.”
“I thought we did a pretty good job at hiding it,” volunteers Agott. Her voice is edged with indignity.
Qifrey laughs. “Some of you did.” He flicks Agott gently on the forehead. “The effort was valiant, all the same.”
The knowledge that even his best plans cannot slip past Qifrey’s eyes humbles him. Olruggio sighs heavily. “I just wanted it to be perfect.”
“And I just wanted it to be you.” Qifrey replies. He places a hand on Olruggio’s cheek tenderly. “You’re far too kind to be a good liar, my most radiant star.”
Olruggio’s good hand wanders up to the half-finished ring in his pocket. He pulls it out slowly, kneeling on the paved floor. “Then there’s nothing for me to hide anymore.”
The apprentices gather around, tugging at each other’s robes excitedly.
“Someone told me once that objects hold memories of not just their creator, but who they were created for,” Olruggio begins. His voice comes out stilted. He clears his throat, gripping Qifrey’s hand through the bandages. “In this case, I’d like to present you with everything I have to offer, so that it could hold both for as long as we live.”
He offers up the ring, outstretched in his palms “My blood is yours, Qifrey, as am I, if you’ll have me.”
“And I am yours.” Qifrey responds, without missing a beat. He leans forward, nose brushing Olruggio’s. “You have bewitched me; mind, body, and soul, my only radiant star, and I love..." he trails off, swallowing hard. "I love you. I promise, as long as I walk this earth, that I am yours. Forever.”
Olruggio meets the misty eyes of the only man he’s ever loved. Their lips press together as the apprentices break into cheers and claps. Even brushbuddy reluctantly stays put on Richeh’s shoulder, letting out a halfhearted but sincere meeb.
“Finally!” Tetia claps as the lovers separate, catching their breath. "I knew that pyreball spell would come in handy one day!”
“That was on purpose?” huffs Richeh. “You nearly burned Richeh’s homework as well as your own. You weren’t even supposed to know.”
"Of course! I only wanted to spread the fire to my other papers, though. I didn’t mean to incinerate the desk as well.” Tetia winks at her. “Lying isn’t too hard if you add a bit of the truth in there as well.”
I might have had too little faith in our best performer. Olruggio exchanges a glance with Qifrey. “It seems that you’ve taught your students well.”
They watch as Tetia scribbles out the pink pyreball spell on a piece of scrap parchment. Only this time, the flames singe Brushbuddy’s tail instead of the table. It jumps into the sink with a squeal as Richeh turns on the water, soaking the creature once again.
“No,” Qifrey smiles, shaking his head. “I suspect that one was all you.”