I can’t stop thinking about the idea that, despite not giving up, Qifrey must have tried to come to terms with the idea that he probably won’t have as much time as he wants, that he might not see the girls all the way through their fourth test, never knowing what sorts of hats and robes they’ll design for themselves, that he might not know them as adults, that he wont get to be there to offer them a bed or a warm meal when they need it even into their 30s, that he won’t hear about their exploits and adventures or know what the zenith of their magic is really like. That he might die when they still need him, that he may have done something cruel to them by becoming a structural part of their lives knowing that he is so precarious. That wringing every last bit of time out of his life means he can never be as close to Olly as he wants, that he will have to come to know how loved he was by Qifrey from his journal after he is gone, that he will leave Olly alone and destroyed to grow old in an atelier never designed to house only one man.