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Qifrey often thought Olly shone much too bright.
Maybe not in the physical sense, maybe not so literally- as the pale boy was often accused of being- that he walked with a constant visible halo. But bright, all the same. So bright he was hard to look at.
Especially when he smiled, or when he took Qifrey's hand and dragged him off to who-knows-where. Or covered his ears before a crowd could shout.
Or looked at Qifrey like he was worth something. Worth the hassle.
No one ever looked at him quite like that, besides- maybe, Beldaruit.
But his glances... they were nice, he thought, and seeped in something that Qifrey's frayed mind couldn't put a name to, but they weren't.. they weren't like Olly's. They didn't make his chest clench impossibly tight, like someone had reached up beneath his ribs to take ahold of his heart and squeeze.
In fact, Qifrey would almost call Master Beldaruit's glances and blatant stares a thing of pride. Almost, almost, almost.
But it also seemed ridiculous, to entertain that.
Qifrey was nothing to be proud of.
He knew that. He knew that.
He knew he was bitter, and hard to stomach, and harder to look at, and mean, and skittish, and...
..Olly's glances were softer, lingering. His night sky eyes flit all over the pale witch's face like he couldn't decide which part he wanted to pick apart first he wanted to look at.
Most often, they seemed to get stuck on his hair, of all things. Or, more specifically, his bangs- the ones that curved over his empty eye socket partly in natural growth and partly in trained obediance. More than once, Qifrey had caught his... friend's fingers twitching.
Then stilling, tucking into his pockets like he needed an extra barrier.
But a barrier from what? From- from grabbing? Tugging? Hitting?
Olly seemed.. much too gentle for things that violent, but everyone- everyone had impulses. It wouldn't be the first time someone 'gentle' lashed out at him for merely 'staring funny.' Though.. that's never happened with Beldaruit...
Never with Olly either..yet.
Rain beats against the dome that surrounds this hellish city, a dull... there was a word that applied perfectly to it, Qifrey knew. He'd just learned it recently..
It lingers just on his peripherals as the witch born of dirt kicks at a loose stone- some chunk of the pathway that had come loose with age, he thinks- passed the gateway serving as a flimsy exit. It sinks immediately into the soft sand just beyond it, in a cloud of particles that muck up the surrounding siren blue.
The same exit, something notes in the back of his brain, where he first met Olly. And nearly died- again.
..ugh... you'd think they'd put up... like a sign or something.. 'not an actual exit'. What if someone without an Olly wanders through?
Granted.. he hadn't had an Olly when he'd wandered through, at the time, either...
How many corpses, exactly, were dragged up to the surface this way?
How many of them were even smaller than him-?
Qifrey drags his thoughts back to that missing word, as he tries to ignore the sudden queasiness under his tongue. the weird relief under his collar. It had a sharp sound, he thinks, a biting sound that hit just like its meaning.
But what was it?
The rain was drumming in that word's same fashion, in quick bursts against what feels like a paper thin shell of unreliable magic. Quick bursts of scattered noise that drove the sparse breath from his bird-steady lungs.
Scattered, that was closer. Not.. the word... but closer.
So what else was scattered? The rain, the beats of bird wings when Olly would take him to the surface, the sifted sand settling back down into bed..
It'd been raining that night too. Storming, in thick plunks against wood and tree leaves, and skin and dirt and-
Two impossibly warm hands suddenly cup over his ears- firm and unyielding and so so gentle and accompanied by the familiar beats of flat shoes on stone. Another example...
Rain, bird wings, sand, walking, his heart-
The word remains solidly out of his grasp.
But his breath returns, and his lungs expand as the ground physically shudders them apart. Literally- the ground was literally shaking beneath his boots. For.. some reason- what?
Qifrey forces his eye open, unaware of when it had ever closed. Though it was probably when his ears had been seized, because the fingers attached to those palms were sorta awkwardly brushing at his lashes and fringe. It wasn't... they weren't tugging, though..
They weren't even really resting.
It was obvious now that whoever had grabbed him- it was Olly, the scar on his palm always gave him away- was more focused on blocking out noise than actually surprising him, and his fingers were curled back as far as they could go.
As if knowing the exact limits of their captive.
...captive was such a strong word, though.. and not the one he was looking for..
"Qifrey!" the familiar voice of Olruggio shouts, muffled and made bearable by his own trap, "Oh thank goodness, I found you in time!"
In time for what-?
He makes to pry his friend's hand away from his empty socket and ear- talking without looking at him was terribly odd- but another shudder wracks through the ground before he can manage. Olly tucks Qifrey under his chin when it knocks them all askew.
And Qifrey allows it for as long as he can bear, allows his friend to stretch up on his tiptoes and bully him down to make it work, and yet he still only lasts a dreadful few beats of cuddling into that warm embrace before..
...before those writhing cruel fingers under his ribs attempt to pop! his thumping heart.
Only a handful of sparse beats..
What was that word?
He forces himself to push away, to tuck a wince down behind his teeth before Olly can catch it and get that guilty glint in his eyes. Before he can fuss. The other boy usually let him go without vocal complaint, even if he was just a little prone to dragging his fingertips along the proffered limb.
This time, he barely lets Qifrey get a few steps.
It's surprising- and it makes him stumble a bit, this sudden grip. This sudden refusal to release his ears, even as they now stand face-to-face, even as Qifrey reaches up to attempt to pry away the one next to his empty socket.
"Olly..?"
And oh, his voice sounds weird like this... all muffled and too sharp behind his brain. He doesn't think he likes that.
The ground shakes again, and Olruggio's hand rushes to clamp back down. It's a hasty.. sort of knee jerk reaction, a little harsh, but his friendly smile barely dips.
"Come on," his friend beckons, a siren's call, "Let's go somewhere quieter. I have a surprise for you."
+=+=+
Qifrey hates the rain.
Olruggio doesn't know why, yet, it's not knowledge he's been afforded by his flighty best friend. It's not knowledge he's been yet allowed to carry with him, and share the weight, but it's obvious.
It's so so obvious.
So why can't anyone else see it?
Why can't anyone else catch the tense line of Qifrey's shoulders, or the shake of his pupil? The way his hands would fist against his legs?
The way they'd tremble- why did no one care? They talked about him like he was just some- some zoo exhibit! Like his apparently 'missing eye' was grounds to treat him like- like some pity project, or curse! Olruggio liked to think he was pretty even tempered, especially compared to some Unknowing adults, but..
His jaw grits tight.
...it pissed him off.
Whatever warmth sat beneath his skin, whatever warmth allowed him to keep wanting to help people [like the good witch he was supposed to already be], burned cold and brittle under his collar every time it happened. A jagged spike pressing beneath his tongue.
Every time Qifrey shied away from their gawking, every time he'd appear at Olly's side for a distraction or lesson- it was there, begging him to lash out on his best friend's behalf. To protect him.
Qifrey wouldn't like that though.. if he acted on it. Olly doesn't really think he'd like it either.
For all this anger- his own and the one eyed apprentice's he'd dragged from the ocean's depths- they weren't violent. Not by nature, and not quite by choice either.
It didn't feel good to hurt people.
Qifrey could be vicious, and hostile, and he was prone to biting sometimes and spacing out in others- prompting his blue blue blue eye to slant into what could be taken as a glare. But Olly just didn't think anyone who cradled baby birds in shaking cloth covered hands, or used the water he was so terrified of to soothe wounded deer legs, was like that by any true choice of his own.
Nobody flinched away from hands moving too fast if they'd only known gentleness.
Sometimes he'd catch it, people swatting at Qifrey for 'walking too close' or sticking their heels out to trip him. Claiming they got startled when they noticed Olruggio only a few feet away.
Never offering an actual apology to the one they'd hit.
No wonder Qifrey liked animals more than people.
That's why, Olruggio thinks, their escapades off to the surface- to outside, as his best friend calls it- will always be worth it. The relief and wonder that would glint in an impossibly blue eye would always be worth it. Everything for Qifrey would be worth it.
That's why this surprise was so important.
Olruggio is careful to keep his palms pressed to snow-colored witch's ears as he leads him to their destination- wary of the storm booming overhead.
It's honestly not nearly as loud all the way down here as it would've been up by the windowways, or directly in its midsts, but.. another piece of something or other slams! into the dome, stirred by the thrashing violent waters.
Was it a disgruntled sea beast, or piece of old ship debris...?
The ground shudders like it doesn't know the difference either.
Thankfully, though, Qifrey seems... relatively unaffected. A bit confused maybe, a little miffed, but he's not on the edge of a panic attack anymore.. so-
He's pretty confident Qifrey knows where they're at by now- this close- and with how many times he's straight-up broken in, but it doesn't hurt to reaffirm.
"Only a bit further," he promises, though he's entirely unsure if Qifrey can even hear him correctly. No, right? Yes?
"Mm.."
Good enough.
A few... weeks ago [have they really been friends that long already?]- tucked away and hiding from their Masters in one of the Great Hall's many many libraries- the two of them had been poring over a book of animals. It wasn't quite the norm for them- their time together usually resulted in Olly teaching Qifrey more theory- but he could hardly refuse the pale boy. Ever.
Not when his lit up like that, at the delicately carved dragons on the cover.
Of course he would like dragons, he thinks fondly, the absolute weirdo.
So.. for what felt like hours, they then sat. Olruggio read any passage that caught his friend's eye aloud, more for Qifrey's sake then his own, though the boy was getting better at that. And there were more than just dragons in the book, surprisingly!
Myrphons, Scalewolves [Qifrey really liked those too], Quadryphons.. quite the collection, for such a misleading cover.
What really stood out in that memory, aside from just- the regular embarrassing warm fuzzies- was something that needed to be rectified immediately.
"What's that?" he'd asked quietly, almost shyly- as if he hadn't been the one to drag hisOlly to their corner to begin with. His finger had been pressed to a little doodle near the page number.
A doodle without an entry.
A doodle that wouldn't have an entry in this book, it was so common a creature.
A brushbuddy.
Naturally, Olly has spent these last few weeks with his head on a swivel. Qifrey deserved to see one of the noodley things for himself, and in person at that. If he could swing it. And smuggle one in.
Not to say he hadn't explained in the moment too- of course. There was too many things his friend seemed to feel embarrassed by not knowing; Olruggio refused to add to that.
Sure, it was a little crushing that Qifrey had never experienced the affectionate cuddle of a little creature, but that could be fixed.
That would be fixed.
Right.
Now.
+=+=+
It's blissfully quiet in Olly's room.
Almost uncannily quiet, really- like a bubble had expanded around them and frozen time. He'd thought such a concept would terrify him, but... it's nice.
He's not sure when Olruggio's hands leave his ears, it must be some point between crossing the threshold and closing the door, but he knows that- when they do- he can't hear the rain anymore. At all.
Had it stopped?
Clearly not, it was still murky outside the window. So then why-?
Qifrey turns back to face his friend, searching his still-beaming face for answers. There was too many, and not enough answers.
What was that word?
Why was he dragged off?
How did you make the rain go away?
As if reading his mind: Olly points to his door with a- somehow even brighter- grin, drawing his attention to the meticulously inked spell.. burned into the wood-? What?
Squinting doesn't make it any clearer from this distance, but there almost seems to be a unmistakeable ring of ash smudged around the glyph. It, mercifully, seems controlled enough not to count as 'sloppy' by the spell's own.. vaguely sentient standards, though. So that was kind of cool.
He never really thought he'd find magic cool... when did that change-?
"Tada!" Olly gestures in excitement, fumbling for the handle, "This isn't the surprise- but I... well- you-"
Open, close, open- the rain starts and stops in quick bursts with each pass of it through the creaking frame. It looks like a chunk of the circle was burned directly into the jamb, disconnecting the spell whenever it wasn't in use... huh..
..sorta like Sylph Shoes...?
Their bubble of silence returns as Olruggio hastily closes it again, and- vaguely- Qifrey notes he had still been talking throughout the demonstration.
And he hadn't caught any of it.
"That's not important!" his friend is quick to throw out, but Qifrey feels a vague sense of loss on missing why his cheeks are so red. He thinks he might've liked to know..
"You know how I had to leave a bit ago?"
Yes, he gripes bitterly- internally. Beldaruit had known too, Qifrey suspects, because Olly was already gone by the time he'd found out- had been allowed to find out, more like.
And no one was talking about where. Or would even tell him, when he finally scrounged up the means to ask the most prevalent.. guppies-? He thinks that's what his master called them.. the whole thing just left him with a sore nose in the aftermath.
What an awful few days.
But regardless of it all, that doesn't seem important to Olly's overall question. There's no waiting for verbal confirmation one way or the other, too busy now with dragging his captive over to his bed and pushing him into it's softness.
Olruggio is careful about it, meticulously batting at his legs and cajoling the pale apprentice into the corner of it- into a veritable mountain of pillows and strewn about blankets, before tucking himself just beside him.
"I found something I think you'll like!"
Olly doesn't touch him beyond that though, sitting a careful few inches away- and likely remembering just minutes prior when he wouldn't let Qifrey pull away.
"Sorry," the star mutters softly, belatedly, as he starts pawing through warm blankets and pillows, "Sorry- I.. for grabbing you. I just didn't want you to have to hear the rain."
Oh...
Abruptly his chest seizes again, tight and uncomfortable and flaring somewhere behind his missing eye, but it leaves just enough room for a strangled inhale. It leaves just enough room for his heart to start at rapid pace, like a bunny's foot. Or rain beats, or bird wings-
The word for such phenomena still escapes his grasp, annoyingly, but.. lucky for him... there's plenty of pillows to take its place. Qifrey pats around for one almost on autopilot.
"Don't be," he mutters hollowly, more than a bit shellshocked- stuck staring at his friend's side profile, "Olly..."
"Huh- AUGMF???"
Faster than his friend can dodge, the pale apprentice springs towards him- and smothers that.. that much too bright smile with his own pillow.
"How do you just-" it vaguely occurs to him that this might just be the most he's spoken at all today, "How do you just say stuff like that with a straight face!?"
Seriously!
Olruggio, predictably, is too busy twitching and squirming and yelping beneath soft threads to offer much by way of explanation. It's fine, he's fine. He's always been a bit stronger than Qifrey, he can push him off if he needs to.
But still, he's feeling generous, so he lifts it up a few inches- lets Olly drag in a surprised gasp... waits..
"What did I do!?" the bright fool sputters, still so achingly considerate not to grab.
Qifrey just shoves the pillow back down.
Soundproofing his room, covering his ears, humoring him when he wanted to look at weird animals instead of magic- explaining- explaining the rules of a magical society-
UGH.
It was too much! Much too much for someone like.. like him. A broken, defective witch they pulled out of a waterlogged box underground.
With each new chivalrous act remembered, each kind word, Qifrey raises and drops the pillow until he's practically beating the poor boy pinned beneath his knees. He's careful not to be too rough, not to use any more force than he would clinging to Beldaruit's skirts.
"AfF- Qifrey!"
And Olly is kind enough to play along, even if it's so obvious he's fighting laughter at the same time. The jerk.
It might be easier if he was.
At the end, the only thing that spares his only friend from impending suffocation is the sudden 'bout of pressure against his leg. It's a barely there weight, and a little pokey- like it had little claws.
"Uh- wha..?" Qifrey startles, barely refraining from any knee jerk reactions as he looks down.
..oh.
It's... some manner of fluffy noodle? Pale smoke grey, with a long winding body and sleep wobbly eyes.. eye. A sleep wobbly eye.
Because it's missing the other one..
His hands twitch towards it before he realizes, slow- letting it muff at his fingers before he makes any further moves. It bears none of the same reluctance itself.
As soon as his fingers come close, the little fluffy thing launches itself into his half-covered palms- nuzzling and squirreling about until it sprawls comfortably acrossed his arms. It's... kinda tacky feeling, but soft too. Impossibly so.
"Qifrey," Olruggio pipes up, sounding vaguely out of breath but fond, "Meet your surprise!"
It only has one eye, and there's dirt caked in odd splotches along its just-a-bit too thin body, but it's-
"...a brushbuddy.."
...it's just like him.