i really hope tomorrow is a little better. i spent the whole day disassociating and daydreaming and, whenever i come to, just falling into despair and tears and well.. i'm not sure what to do about it. i feel a bit scared really
I have a sinking feeling about Qifrey and where his story is headed.
MASSIVE spoilers and maybe slightly long-winded theorizing below the cut.
I believe quite certainly that Qifrey intends to reveal the complete truth to Olruggio very soon, and that while he seems to be accepting his fate, he is trying to maintain as much control over the terms of his inevitable end as possible.
Following the events of Chapter 88, after he reveals his nature as a Silverwood host to Coco, he asks to postpone his complete confession, wishing to be able to reveal the truth elsewhere, in a peaceful place beneath a wide open sky where his roots would have room to comfortably grow. He has described the land around the atelier in this way many times before.
Later, when the entire group is finally reunited and Olruggio tells Qifrey they’re going home. Qifrey’s expression looks pained for a moment, before he answers, “Alright then. Let's go home. Our atelier awaits."
His verbal recognition of the atelier as his home is a rather glaring signal that he is beginning to accept his imminent end and has chosen the atelier as his ideal final resting place. This is hinted at early on in a sequence during which Beldaruit spoke to Riliphin of the Silverwoods, and implied that he knew of Qifrey’s condition as he privately worried that his beginning to think of the atelier as his home could be dangerous for him.
At a point during their journey home, we return to the group to find the girls all asleep, while Qifrey has distanced himself from the rest, sitting on the bank of a lake to write in his book. Olruggio joins him and points out how far he’s sitting from the fire.
I think this was probably intentional in an effort to be closer to the lake to keep himself anxious, since it is my personal theory that here, Qifrey is actually writing a letter to Olruggio in which he tells him the entire truth, and that the narration through the next arc is comprised of excerpts from that letter. The lake is intended to be a failsafe of sorts, since of course, we know that vocalizing the truth to Olly is Qifrey’s greatest comfort trigger, while water touching his skin is his biggest anxiety trigger. Given this, it makes sense for him to choose this particular spot to begin to release the truth so he has a means of keeping the Silverwood at bay readily available should he need it, which he evidently does later on.
In the segments that follow, Qifrey reminisces on how he and Olruggio crossed paths at the Great Hall and became close.
Through the end of chapter 91, we watch the story unfold neutrally as though it is happening in real time, with no narration, but in chapter 92, something shifts. As soon as Qifrey’s recount reaches the part of the story that would have been lost to Olruggio’s memory, a past-tense narrator voice begins to cut in, and suddenly, it becomes clear this story is being told to someone, not merely recalled, and not just to anyone, but to Olruggio by Qifrey. This is the strongest evidence that what we’re reading is actually the contents of a letter to Olruggio.
All of this indicates to me that Qifrey is not just reminiscing, but is actively preparing for the end. The telling of the story, the physical and emotional distance Qifrey has put between himself and the others, and his now repeated framing of the atelier as both home and the kind of place where he would want to be forever, are all supportive of that.
As far as we know, Qifrey hasn’t been the one to initiate a full confession since they were kids at the Tower of Tomes. Spilling his guts in a letter written under duress is probably a new tactic, and it’s a smart one, as it ensures Qifrey can get the complete truth out on his terms without the usual interruption from the Silvertree.
We also know that Qifrey would rather die than have his transformation hurt the people he loves, so at this point, I wouldn't put it past him to leave the letter at home where the others will find it before going off to trigger his transformation alone, or waiting until the others are gone to trigger it.
This is what has me especially worried for him now, because Olruggio and the girls just left the atelier, leaving Qifrey there by himself. Maybe I'm projecting (probably), but the thought of Qifrey leaving a note and then going off to essentially kill himself makes my stomach hurt. Painfully though, it does feel in character, especially now that he's vocalized his trust in his students, particularly Coco, to carry on his mission. Olruggio, please go home now, your husband is an active danger to himself!!
Fortunately, Hiehart and Jujy pay the atelier a visit, but even upon greeting them, he does already seem on edge and uncharacteristically down.
Hopefully, whatever Hiehart has to say will get Qifrey out of his head and convince him to keep living for a little while longer. I'm guessing he's going to ask Qifrey to take on Jujy as his apprentice. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.
Anyways. To conclude, here is Qifrey’s directed narration/possible excerpts from a letter to Olruggio compiled:
Every day I turned my gaze away from the encroaching dread, and for as long as I was in the dark, I was happy. I greeted each morning with excitement, for with the rise of the sun came another adventure with you. I thought if I could retrieve the past I lost, my joy would be as genuine as yours, and perhaps I would have a real chance to share in your happiness. A child can dream. Like ordinary boys, we would share our visions of tomorrow with each other and we would laugh at how far away it all seemed.
Little did I know that felicity came with forgetting. It was a bliss born of ignorance. If I knew what I was… If I knew that I was never meant to be saved, I would've stayed far away from you, the sky’s kindest, most radiant star.
I once read an old poem that likened stars to boats sailing through the sky. But as far as I know, boats don’t twinkle like stars. The light doesn’t come from the vessel itself, but its guiding torch. Like your pyreball, it burns at the bow. A beacon of light in the dark.
After that fateful day, you would uncover my secret again and again. Each time you would respond with disbelief. Then your face would twist and turn in anguish. And after biting back a few words, you would show me grace, and comfort me and forgive me for lying to you. And then, without fail, the Silverwood’s roots would grow. You would offer me the same path back every time, and I would take it, adding to my mess of sins.
I had often considered leaving your side. I thought that perhaps traveling alone would save me from taking away your memories. But even that minute solace was enough for the Silverwood. I knew then that distance would do nothing but break my promise to you.
So I had another thought: A master never wants for worry with apprentices to look after. The selfishness behind my reason for taking on pupils made me ill, but they’d never have to know that. So I decided to put every fiber of my being toward becoming a good educator. If only I had known then what a joy it truly is to watch your students grow with each passing day.
It’s somewhat rare for a Silverwood to take root in people. Unlike animals, they tend to hold onto too much anxiety. Which is why the tree planted in Custus that gave him his legs raises some questions. My right eye was the only one to sprout during the experiments. It must have some connection to the Silverwood in Custas. For so long, I thought I was the only host, but now I'm not so sure. There could be more victims out there than I ever imagined.
Did I make the right choice?
Would it have been better to throw everything aside and hunt down the brimmed caps?
Doubts like these turn in my head, but the moment I see my atelier, I remember.
This is where my heart is. This is where I want to be.
the people who enjoy the type of art you create, will like it even if it's imperfect. and the people who hate the type of art you create, will dislike it even if it IS perfect.
don't skip ahead of bullies and bully yourself first. don't badmouth your own work, it doesn't alter other people's opinion on art, but it does make you feel worse about yourself.
this poem was translated by eileen chengyin chow, or @chowleen on twitter and tumblr! im not sure why the translators attribution was specifically cut out here:
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ @disqualifiedashuman - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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