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Qifrey had found that even the weatherless Assembly's ‘air’ turned just a little colder as winter began to approach, before it got adjusted back to its usual state. And when that change had just begun, one random day the ever monotonous, repetitive stronghold of witches suddenly broke into a great deal of excitement and hustle.
“What's the deal with all this?” Busy adults of course meant more chances to sneak out, which was a golden opportunity Qifrey wouldn't be passing on based on the reason, but his curiosity was piqued nonetheless.
But apparently, Olruggio was going to be very busy as well. “Word from the Surface is, the stars apparently crossed just last night! The festival's coming soon!”
Stars and a festival? That sounded awfully familiar for something he couldn't really remember, like something he had probably heard once from Beldaruit but later forgotten.
And apparently it belonged to the list of ‘things he really doesn't remember but really really should’, because Olruggio looked utterly scandalised.
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The Silver Night Festival. “I've heard of it before,” Qifrey said, swinging his legs while they sat down on a bench. “Definitely. But I forgot. I know I should keep track of the big stuff, but there's a lot of things to remember, so sometimes I forget important things.”
Olruggio, meanwhile, buried his face in his hands, a deep and embarrassed blush completely setting over it. “You don't have to say all that, I should've realised it earlier,” he lamented, utterly mortified. "Before I reacted like that."
Qifrey couldn't help but laugh at his friend. “There's a story that goes along with it, right? Let me hear it again?”
And so Olruggio did tell.
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An ancient poem, the age old tale among witches. The tale of a falling star, of a star that fell for a silverwood. Of a star that loved a silverwood, and a silverwood that loved everything. Of a silverwood maiden who loved them so much, that she gave away the gift of magic that the star had given her.
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“-though there's people who want to keep comparing this with the tale where the silverwood fell in love with a witch instead, I don't really get it?” Olruggio continued to ramble on. “I don't see why we can't have more than one story for the origins of magic in the first place. They're just stories, anyway. And then some people think that the portrayal of the silverwood as human-like opposes the principles of the Pact by breaching the integrity of the human body, but there's a whole horde of tales predating the Pact, and it doesn't really change anything? It's not as if any Brimhats are going around saying that they decided to become one because they liked what a fairytale said? It's almost like we learn the reality of how those were days of great destruction and war everyday! To begin with, everyone knows that the silverwoods aren’t actually people, duh-”
“Did the silverwood betray the star?”
“Huh?” Olruggio paused in the middle of very exaggerated hand gestures. “Wait, can you repeat that?”
“The maiden of the silverwood tree, she gave away the gift of magic the star gave her. Was that betrayal?”
“Huh? I never thought of that before.” He rubbed his chin. “I guess it really depends?”
“How so?”
“Let's see,” Olruggio said. “Suppose I gave you a gift, and you gave it away to, say, Alaira. I would be really hurt if you were to do that. But, if Alaira was in trouble, and the gift could help her, then I wouldn't mind you giving my gift away to her.”
“But you know Alaira!" Qifrey opposed. "We don't even know if the star knew about humans!”
“But the star must have seen everything while sailing in his silver boat, right? If he knew about the silverwood beforehand, then he must've known about humans as well!”
“But did he want to help them? You like Alaira, so of course you would like it if I were to help her. But the story never says whether the star liked humans!”
“But it doesn't say anything about the star not liking them either! Why wouldn't he like humans in the first place? To begin with, the silverwood might have made the decision to give magic away, but didn't the star similarly choose to give it to her out of his own free will as well? What she did with it wasn't really up to him to decide, so I don't think it counts as betrayal?”
“You just said that you would be upset if I were to give away your gift, then why do you think this wouldn't count as betrayal?”
“Well, that's-” Olruggio protested, spluttering when challenged by his own words. “Okay, that's true, but the silverwood maiden’s decision was a rather big and important one, so I think we should take that into consideration.”
He cleared his throat. “In the first place, if the star loved the silverwood, shouldn't he accept her decision? If his gift was truly a selfless act of love, he wouldn't object to it. He'd understand why she did what she did. Isn't that what true love is?”
“...I'm pretty sure it doesn't work that way.”
“But it does!”
“But it doesn't!”
“But it does! To begin with, neither the star nor the silverwood are real! Besides, even if they were,” Olruggio ruffled his hair in frustration and sighed. “Wouldn't what they felt about it be the most important part of this?”
“Huh?”
“Well,” Olruggio explained when faced with Qifrey's confusion. “Whether the two of them had a feeling of betrayal seems like a pretty big part about the whole, you know, betrayal? It's not about just their actions, but the feelings invoked by their actions, as well. Whether the star felt betrayed or the silverwood felt like she betrayed him. That's something outside parties like us won't be able to tell.”
“So their feelings about it matter just as much, huh?” Qifrey concluded. “I never thought of it that way.” A pause, thoughtful. “I suppose that would be up to them to decide, then.”
Olruggio looked up as if he would see a star filled sky instead of the sea, taking in a deep breath full of artificial air. “I suppose it would.”
(And what if the silverwood and the star were to feel differently about the matter, was not a question that crossed their minds. There was no need for it, not back then.)
And so, the question remained unanswered.
“Ah, I'm so tired!” Olruggio complained, collapsing on the couch. The cosmetic mask lied discarded next to him, and honestly, it was a relief to see his natural face again, no matter how haggard he looked. “But it was also so much fun!”
“You drank,” Qifrey chided, arms crossed in disapproval. “I thought I told you not to when you left.”
“No I didn't!” Olruggio defended. “I only had one obligatory drink, ask Hiehart if you will. And I drank plenty of water too, as you said, professor Qifrey*.” He sighed. “And it was such rare wine, too.”
“Did you now?” Qifrey's sour mood rapidly turned merry, and he clapped his hands together. “Then I can hand you the special drink I made when we return to the atelier without any guilt at all!”
He could've sworn that he saw stars in Olruggio's eyes. “When did-”
“While you were busy working. I even used magic on it. Although I'd usually prefer to let it mature naturally, this way it'll be ready by the time we'll get back.”
“So you brewed alcohol behind my back, eh?" He laughed, and it was a rather heartful sound. "Oh, the betrayal!”
“It was a betrayal worth seeing this smile on your face,” Qifrey said. “Consider it a reward for all your hard work. Now come on, you should be going to bed.”
“True,” Olruggio said, accepting Qifrey's arm for support.
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"You missed watching the second crossing of stars together," Qifrey commented as he fumbled with the doorknob leading to the room.
"Ah."Olruggio realised. "Well, there's always next year's crossing."
He said it so easily.
"Let's watch the next one together," he said, hunching past the door.
So, so easily.
"Yes," Qifrey whispered, lingering in the shadows behind him. "We should do that."
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This was how the rooms in the tent were distributed: one room for the girls, and Tartah and Mr. Nolnoa shared another, while the last room was for Qifrey and Olruggio. This arrangement wasn't something that made either of them uneasy; they were rather used to it by now.
Still, Olruggio felt the need to ask, “Aren't you going to sleep?”, eyeing the way Qifrey was still fully dressed.
“Oh, not yet,” Qifrey replied with a small smile, a fragile one that looked ready to shatter to pieces. “I think I'll get some fresh air while the streets aren't packed full of people.”
He turned to leave, or at least tried to. Olruggio had caught the end of his cloak in a gentle hold; one he was sure Olruggio would let go of Qifrey were to tug it away.
“What's the matter?” Olruggio asked.
“You should go to sleep for now, Oru. There'll be time for questions later, the festival starts at the crack of dawn and the kids all want to see the parade-”
“Qifrey. What happened?”
“Nothing much,” Qifrey sighed, relenting. He sat down on the bed. “You know how it gets with me and crowds- too many whispers, too many eyes.”
Olruggio's face immediately fell into a severe frown, the high placed lights casting deep shadows on his face. “That’s why I didn't want to say anything,” Qifrey said, poking the corner of Olruggio's lips. “It never changes anything except for your mood; I don't like seeing you down like this.”
How Olruggio wished something about that would change, after so many years. But all he could do was hold Qifrey's hand in his, waiting.
“And Coco, when we arrived she asked me if she was allowed to have fun.” He squeezed Olruggio's hand. “I told her she was, but-”
Olruggio squeezed his hand back in reassurance. “Of course she is. She is, and so are you.”
Qifrey laughed a little at this, but it was more of a lament huffed out with his lips upturned. Too many of his smiles were like this, recently. “I'm afraid I'm a little too old for things like having fun, Oru, I have apprentices to look after-”
“You are allowed to be happy, Qifrey.”
“I know that.”
“Do you believe it?”
Qifrey did not reply, did not even look at him.
Olruggio waited.
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“I think,” Qifrey said after a long silence, pulling his hand away and swaying back to his feet. “The silverwood did betray the star.”
“What?” Of all things Olruggio had expected- “Where did this come from?”
“Well, Coco had never heard of the tale,” Qifrey explained. “And after recounting it after so many years, it got me thinking again. And looking back… I believe that it was indeed betrayal. Regardless of whether her decision was right or wrong in the end, the silverwood maiden betrayed the star.”
“...Is that what you think?” Olruggio asked after a while, leaning forward.
“Is that what I- you can't possibly think otherwise, can you? The magic the star had entrusted the silverwood with, freely and out of love, she gave it away! Did she not break his trust?”
“And what if the star knew?” Olruggio challenged, tapping a finger against his knuckles. “If the star truly loved the silverwood, then he must have known her, that's what love is, afterall. What if the star knew what the silverwood maiden would do with his gift all along, but chose to give it anyway, because he loved her? What then?”
“You cannot possibly know that for sure.” It was a weak argument, but Qifrey knew that.
You cannot possibly say that. Not you.
He felt nauseous, and entirely numb.
“Neither can you.”
But I can, I can. This was never about the silverwood-
“I think,” Qifrey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you should be resting. I'd hate to impose any further. Good night, Oru.”
And he strode out of the room and the tent without another word. Olruggio silently watched Qifrey's retreating figure.
If there's something you're hiding, if there's something you want to tell me, then you can trust me. And if not, I'll wait until you can, alright? I'm right here. Did you understand what I meant? Can you hear what I want to say, Qifrey? It was never about the star.
“Good night, Qifrey.”