I do not own wicked.

'And that, students, is one of many theories on the creation of Oz, its places and its creatures, and in my opinion, the most likely

'And that, students, is one of many theories on the creation of Oz, its places and its creatures, and in my opinion, the most likely. Thank you,' Glinda read to the new students at Shiz University as a special guest on behalf of Madame Morrible.

'Thank you, Glinda.' Madame Morrible said, pronouncing her words widely.

Glinda smiled a blatantly fake smile and walked off backstage, where Mme. Morrible's irritating voice and dramatic way of speaking were somewhat dulled. Not enough, to Glinda's point of view. It could never be dulled out enough since her days at Shiz.

Better than being onstage with the frumpy old cow, Glinda thought bitterly. Horrible Morrible, She smiled at the nicknames that she and her friends Pfanee, Shenshen and Elphaba used to call Madame Morrible, which they thought were behind her back. For a second, Glinda missed the memories of Shiz, despite the vast majority's boringness or unhappiness… It was a learning experience, especially for one such as Glinda, who was little learned in the subject of learning experiences… all the more to learn, to her point of view. Well, all the more to study strenuously for a day or two, talk excessively about and forget about three days later.

In the darkness, his voice hidden by a round of applause and his face hidden by a hood (not that the hood was necessary, given the pitch-black of the backstage,) a man spoke.
'Very good,' he clapped his black leather gloved hands. 'That was an inspiring speech. You were beautiful as ever out there, Glinda,'

'Oh, well I don't mean to boast, but I do see myself as quite heavily interested and involved in anything about Oz's culture.' Glinda lost herself briefly in the compliment from the mysterious, hooded stranger, before she came to realize that the mysterious, hooded stranger was, in fact, a mysterious, hooded stranger!

'Who… who are you?' Glinda asked, her voice shaking, though she knew she had no reason to be scared… save for that glint of something shiny in the person's hand.

'I do believe you used to know me,' the stranger said, his voice strangely familiar to Glinda, though she had not the faintest idea as to whom it belonged. Seeing the strained, thinking look on Glinda's face, the man spoke again. 'I was… a friend, shall we say. Not a very close friend, but that was your fault, not mine.' The man laughed at Glinda's expression, but not with humor. 'I would not expect you to know who I am, so do not try too hard to think… you might hurt yourself,' the man said coldly.

Glinda smiled warmly before she realized that what he had said was meant as an insult.
'Well, if you won't just say your name, why don't you tell me what you're doing here?' Glinda asked. She thought that remark sounded very intelligent, and praised herself silently.

'I've come for something from you.' The man smiled, but Glinda couldn't have seen it.

She started rummaging around herself, and then found what she was looking for: an over-the-top pink, fluffy purse.

'I don't want money, you simpleton! What I want from you won't be given willingly. That is why I brought this,' the man lifted up the shiny thing.

Glinda couldn't see what it was, except that it glinted in the faint light. Suddenly, something hit the ceiling above them with a mighty crack! And Glinda gasped and looked up. Then suddenly, into her open mouth was poured a strange, bittersweet tasting paste. She didn't have reflex enough to spit it out; it dribbled easily down her throat, and all she could do was swallow it, whatever it was.

'Do you have any idea who I am?' Glinda asked in an angry whisper, not wanting to attract attention from the audience and whatever idiot was onstage at the moment.

'Yes,' the man said, but Glinda either didn't hear or wanted to go on because she felt it made her look intelligent.

'I am Miss Glinda, an Arduenna of the Uplands! What is that vile stuff you poured down my…' Glinda suddenly swooned. 'Well that was strange,' she then collapsed to the ground, and she was aware of the bottle landing next to her head. Just as she was losing consciousness, the label came into focus and she read it.

Pinlobble Paste
Caution: use in moderation, as it may have side effects, including: Dry eyes, itchy throat, hoarse voice and tiredness after consciousness returns.

Meanwhile, in Munchkinland, just West of Rush Margins, in a small, little-known village called Vestingdale; Elphaba Thropp sat in her chair on the veranda of her cottage, admiring the beautiful landscape: The sparkling Illswater Lake, the rolling Cloth Hills behind it, and the pine trees surrounding it. In late afternoon, the hills and the sun clashed, casting brilliant fiery red, orange and yellow through the sky, reflected in the lake.

Bored, Elphaba painted the inspiring scene in a book that had been given to her very recently, by a strange man covered head to foot in black clothing, traveling alone with a donkey. He carried only one thing (save for the book), which was a bottle of Pinlobble Paste, which struck Elphaba as strange.
The book had contained a photograph of her mother, Melena, holding a baby. The photo was dated before Elphaba's birth. The photo was followed by a poem:

Born in the morning,
Woe without warning;

Afternoon child
Woeful and wild;

Born in the evening,
Woe ends in grieving.

Night baby borning
Same as the morning.

Both the photograph and the poem had since been removed (by Elphaba, of course,) and placed secretly in a locked cabinet. Only Elphaba held the key.

Elphaba lived in her house with her husband, Fiyero, her son, Chance, and her elderly father, Frexspar. Frexspar used to be a unionist priest, offended at the mention of any other religion, be it Lurlinist or the Pleasure Faith. He believed heavily in an "Unnamed God", until one day, nearly seventeen years after his wife Melena died in childbirth with Elphaba's little sister, Nessarose, he thought long and hard about the faith he was following. The words of other people and the endless "coincidental" occurrences convinced him to rethink his religion. He, after nearly half-a-year, retired, and completely left the unionist faith behind. He, to this day, is an atheist, as the rest of his family.

Elphaba had nearly finished her picture when Fiyero interrupted. He opened the door and walked out, kissing her affectionately on the cheek.

'What are you doing?' he asked, his deep voice enticing. Elphaba sighed.

'Reminiscing…' she broke from her vacant staring at the landscape before her and looked into Fiyero's eyes.

'Over what?' he asked, looking out over the landscape, now that she refused to appreciate it.

'How things used to be. Before the Wizard ruined Oz. Before he labeled me wicked after I refused to help him… Before Glinda and I parted…'

Was that a tear that Fiyero saw in Elphaba's eye?

'Come here,' Fiyero said, his soft voice cooing her. He sat down on the chair next to her and they embraced tightly, for what seemed like hours.

'Good things change so fast,' she said. Her voice hadn't changed one bit, but she was shaking. Was she crying?

'You have me, don't you? And Chance?' Fiyero pointed out, trying to lighten the mood.

'Yes, I know… and dad and this place… I know I'm not supposed to want, but I just wish things were the way they were, you know? When you first arrived at Shiz, for example… how young and innocent we were… nothing was serious. And now, nothing is a joke.'

'I know what you mean,' Fiyero said. He had long since abandoned his "Dancing through life" stance on everything.

'I've really noticed it since Nessa died. She brought joy to my life…' Elphaba looked at Fiyero. 'Not that you don't! I just mean, she was… my biggest source of fun. Of light-hearted humor.'

'I know,' Fiyero said.

'Elphaba?' Frex called from inside.

'Yes, father?' She replied, pulling herself up from the comfort of Fiyero's body.

'Chance wants to talk to you,'

Elphaba sighed. 'Alright…' she moaned, walking slowly inside. Chance, like every member in Elphaba's family except for Elphaba, was not green. He possessed the same traits that Elphaba did in nearly every other way, though. He loved to bite things, was shy, hated water and could do magic. Not much, but definitely magic. He was tall, had black hair and black eyes, and was picked on by every child at school. Chance turned eight in four months.

'Who is this, ma?' Chance asked the moment Elphaba had waddled inside. He held up the photo of Melena.

'How did you get that?' Elphaba asked. Chance held up a key.

'It was locked and I saw this thing sitting on the kitchen counter, so I tried to open it… and it worked,'

The key glowed briefly.

'What have I told you about using magic in the house?' Elphaba asked, snatching the photo, opening the cupboard and locking it again. She reinforced it with magic when Chance wasn't looking.

'Yes, yes, I know, you said not to…' Chance looked at his feet.

'Don't do it again,' Elphaba said, looking into his eyes, frustrated.

'Yes, ma. But, can I ask who she is?'

'Was,' Elphaba said, looking away.

'Is she dead?'

'Yes.'

'Oh. Well, then, who was she?'

'Your grandmother, Melena. She died giving birth to my sister (your aunt), Nessarose.'

'Oh.' Chance's face fell.

'Come, let us have tea,' Elphaba said, in an effort to lighten to mood. Chance, who realized he had no real reason to grieve this Melena woman, bounced with excitement and followed Elphaba to the kitchen to help make the tea.

Fiyero stayed outside, watching the sunset in awe.
Why does Rush Margins have such wonderful sunsets? Fiyero pondered. I ought to find out, someday. For a few minutes, he sat, entranced as Elphaba had been, until he was interrupted by her.

'Tea, darling?'

'Oh, thank you, sweet.' Fiyero said, accepting the warm mug. It steamed with a most tantalizing citrus aroma, and he sipped it contentedly.

'It's delicious,' he said.

'My own recipe,' she smiled.

'Wow!' Chance's voice floated from inside, and within two seconds, he was on the veranda, staring at the sunset, which had now dulled from the brilliant, angry red to a retired, soft purple-blue color.

'Come, Chance, sit with us,' Fiyero said, pulling Elphaba down on one side of him and patting the seat on his other side. Silently, Chance cuddled up with his father and mother and they watched the sunset as one.

'Unh… Where am I…?' Glinda whispered. Her head hurt. The hoarseness of her own voice astounded her. She pulled herself – slowly – up. Her head was not the only thing that hurt. Her vagina ached, and her mouth was numb.

What am I doing here? She asked herself, looking around. She was in a large place, filled with mist and long grass and dead trees. The air was heavy and stank of rotten eggs.

By the looks of things, these are definitely marshes, she commented silently, looking at the water and mud and plants. And by the smell of things, too. She thought, disgustedly. She sat fully up, and realized that she was sitting on a raft made out of bamboo. She realized also, to her absolute shock, that she was naked. She screamed, and then started crying.

Through her tears, she thought she saw some black animal in the blue-green of the long grass before her. She wiped her eyes, and she saw that it was clothes. Black clothes. The same clothes as the man who had fed her the Pinlobble Paste. Suddenly, she had a most frightening thought.

Have I been raped by this disgusting, self-indulgent, familiar man? A new wave of tears came to her eyes at this horrifying concept. In a hurry, she picked up the clothes and put them on. As she picked up the gloves, a small, blue glass bottle was revealed. On it was a soggy sticker, but the writing was still visible.

'Pinlobble paste,' Glinda read. 'Pinlobble paste? The cheeky bastard, taking the easy way!' she shouted. Suddenly, she remembered being shaken violently, and waking up. She had been on a carriage at one point. But then a big piece of blue glass came near her face and she fell asleep again. Then she remembered having woken up in a place very similar to this, though not quite as marshy, as the foggy memory allowed her to see. Again, she was force fed the Pinlobble Paste. Both the visions were very hazy, but by what she could gather from her surroundings, she was at the very least not in Gillikin anymore.
Glinda got shakily to her feet and began looking around.

'Hello?' She cried. 'Where am I?'

'Who is there?' a young, female voice asked.

'Glinda the Good. Who are you?'

'My name is Jay-Lezi. What do you to doing in Quadling country?'

'I'm in Quadling country?' Glinda cried, horrified.

'Yes!' the voice got closer. 'Do you to want to find the out way?'

'Yes! Please! As soon as you can!' Glinda cried. Suddenly, out of the haze, came a short, fat girl with long, strawberry-blond hair. Despite her form, she was very beautiful, and if Glinda had been her proper self, she might have even felt jealous. A typical Quadling stood before her. No mood of Glinda's would ever sway her hatred of lower-class peoples, like Munchkinlanders and Quadlings. As far as Glinda was concerned, in any state, the Gillikinese (like herself) were the only ones worth conversing or being seen with, let alone accepting help from.

'Glinda, you be to coming with me. Jay-Lezi knows to way to the out.'

'Ugh, if I have to,' There were so many things that Glinda couldn't stand. One of them was being dressed in this disgusting black robe. It made her feel like a boy at the very least. Another was the Quadlings' speech. Why couldn't Jay-Lezi just speak properly? Glinda followed, somewhat loosely (so as to not catch a disease or something), in frustrated silence. Not only had she been raped, but she had been raped while she was unconscious. On top of that, the rapist had the bright idea of dumping Glinda's unconscious body in the Quadling Marshes! And now, she had been forced to talk to a Quadling, accept its help, and above all, be nice. As if animals care for nice. It should be a written law, that lower peoples, animals (and Animals, for that matter) should expect Glinda the Good not to have to speak with them. That might stop all the unworthy ones from trying to befriend her… like Boq. That was the first time Glinda had ever thought of Boq since they last saw each other at Shiz. Boq was a Munchkinlander, and had come from Briscoe Hall to Shiz when Glinda studied there. And what a fiasco it had been, too. What with Boq's constant flirting and his "We should at least be friends" crap.

Fat chance of that, Glinda thought viciously. I'm Gillikinese. I am perfect, and I have enough friends. Besides, you're Munchkin, for Lurline's sake! Glinda looked around, having lost the fat Quadling girl, and found her again almost instantly.
Why am I talking to Boq in my head? She asked herself. She recited the last things she remembered at Shiz before she had been knocked out. She strained to remember what that strange, hooded figure had said.

I do believe you used to know me, Glinda recalled. I was… a friend, shall we say. Not a very close friend, but that was your fault, not mine. Suddenly, a very minor revelation dawned in Glinda's mind, though; it was her first time, so it was a big deal.
It CAN'T be, surely! She exclaimed at herself at the thought of who it could possibly be. Though, it made sense. Who else could have been a distant friend, but only at Glinda's fault? She hadn't known many boys, anyway, and it definitely wasn't Elphie… Surely it wasn't… Boq?
Glinda gulped; horrified at the thought that Boq had gone to this extreme to have sex with her. What if he did it again? That was a truly chilling thought.

'How much further have we to go?' Glinda asked.

'Not much to way to the out,' the Quadling girl replied over her shoulder.

Sure enough, several minutes later, the marshes started to thin, replaced with mountains and a wide road of yellow brick.

'Glinda, stay here, I will to find a carriage for you to use to go to where you need to go to.'

'Okay,' Glinda said, unnecessarily cruelly. She waited at the beginning of the yellow brick road for near to twenty minutes, before a horse-drawn cart finally appeared. 'Oh, finally!' Glinda exclaimed, hopping in and telling the driver to follow the road to Shiz University in Gillikin.

'As you wish, ma'am.' The driver said curtly, before whipping the reigns and causing the horses to start running.

The next morning in Vestingdale, at exactly midnight, Elphaba woke suddenly, causing Fiyero to wake next to her as well.

'Elphie? What is it?'

'I just had a very strange dream,' she said dreamily.

'What did it involve?' Fiyero knew that from time to time her dreams were prophetic.
'That man who gave me that book just the other day… the one in black, do you remember?' she asked.

'Yes,' Fiyero confirmed, straining his mind.

'He arrived on our doorstep at sometime near midday, and said that you were invited to Shiz to help them with something… I can't remember what. I refused to let you go without me, and so the man pulled out a knife and killed you,'

'Was… did it feel prophetic?' Fiyero asked, dreading the answer.

'Yes,'

'Just go back to sleep. I'm not going to die, and neither are you, duckie. Sleep, now, and wake when the morning breaks.' Fiyero said the words more to himself than to Elphaba.

He was immensely tired, but he didn't know why.
Who cares, let me sleep… was his last thought before he drifted off again.

'Mama! Papa! Wake up, there's someone at the door!' Chance woke Elphaba and Fiyero up by jumping on them. Elphaba was already half-awake anyway, having been formulating a plan most of the night, lest the hooded figure appear on their doorstep.

'What time is it?' Fiyero asked, his voice thick with sleep.

'Midday,' Chance said, looking at the clock on the wall. Elphaba gasped heavily.

'Stay here, both of you!' Elphie whispered. Then she turned to Chance. 'Does he know you're here?' Chance nodded. Elphie groaned. 'Alright, you come with me, Chance, but Fiyero, stay here, and don't be seen!' Elphaba whispered, before opening the bedroom door, closing it softly behind her and going downstairs to the front door. Frex was asleep on the couch, Elphaba noticed as she walked past it.

How odd, she thought.

She opened the door, and, sure enough, there was a man standing there.

'Yes?' Elphaba's voice was hoarse with sleep.

'Elphaba Thropp, third descending of Nest Hardings?' the man asked in a hoarse whisper.

'Yes?' Elphaba asked, holding herself together despite her fear.

'I am looking for a man named Fiyero; I have been told he lives here.'

'No Fiyero lives here.' Elphaba said. She nearly shut the door, before the man opened it again.

'Is Fiyero not your husband? Is that not your child with him?'

'No. This is my nephew, staying with me for three weeks while my sister is in the Emerald City.'

'Your sister?' The man seemed somehow intrigued.

'Yes,' Elphaba said. She knew the man was suspicious. How he knew that she didn't have a sister, she didn't know.

'Did your sister not die to a human child by the name of Dorothy, not too many years ago?' The man recited.

'Who are you?' Elphaba asked, her voice riddled with worry. How could a stranger know this much?

'Do you not recognize my voice? Do you not know who I am?'

Elphaba shook her head. Then the man made the stupid mistake of peeling back his hood; he could not stand it anymore, he wanted to catch up with his old friend, Elphaba Thropp.
'It's me, Boq.'

'Boq? It's been so long!' Elphaba didn't know whether to be relieved, or angry, or scared or happy.

'It has, hasn't it?' Boq said conversationally, but then his mood changed. 'Where's Fiyero?'

'Who is Fiyero?' Elphaba asked.

'Your boyfriend!'

'I don't have a boyfriend!' Technically that wasn't a lie.

'That boy who came to Shiz… the one with diamonds on his face,'

'Oh, Fiyero! I haven't seen him since I left Shiz,' she lied, quite convincingly.

'May I come in?' Boq asked politely.

'I'm afraid not, sorry, my father is asleep just here and-'she nearly mentioned Fiyero. '-I should not like him woken up… he needs his sleep, you know.'

'Ah, yes. Well, I will call again, you know. Don't doubt that,' Boq said seriously, before turning on his heel and walking away. Elphaba slammed the door behind him. She was shocked. Her dream had involved that man, and that man was Boq. Could Boq bring himself to kill Fiyero like that, and in front of Elphaba? Something has changed with him. Something very, very big.

'Come, Chance, let us go upstairs again,' She avoided saying son or Fiyero incase Boq was listening at the door for some odd reason.

As soon as the two of them were upstairs, Elphaba told Fiyero everything.
'He knew who I was, who you are, who Chance is, who Melena is… He knew that Nessa was dead and he knew that we are married,'

'How?'

'Because. He was Boq.'

'He was Boq?' Fiyero asked, shocked. 'Boq gave you that book with Melena's poem and that weird poem?'

Elphaba nodded silently.

'Maybe it was a threat or something?' Fiyero pondered aloud.

'Not a threat… a prophecy, perhaps…'

'How so?'

'Well, parts of it make sense. For example, what Frex said of my childhood I was wild. Wild. Afternoon child, woeful and wild. As far as I know, I wasn't woeful… maybe it's figurative. Maybe… I don't know, maybe I killed their faith or something, by my greenness.'

'Hmm… but you weren't a second child.'

'I could have been. In the photo, Melena sits there, looking at the very least bored, and holding a baby. See the date? That is almost three years before my birth.'

'Then why didn't you know the baby?'

'Well obviously the poor thing died before I was born. Born in the morning, Woe without warning. Lurline only knows how the baby died, but it died without warning.'

'Okay, how about the third line?'

'Born in the evening, woe ends in grieving. That must refer to Nessa, killed by a flying house. We have grieved her terribly, have we not?'

'Yes… and how about night baby borning, same as the morning? Melena died in childbirth with Nessa.'

'Night baby borning, same as the morning. Same as the morning. That means the next one born in our family must be similar to the first baby.'

'Maybe.'

'Chance! Come here!' Elphaba called. Within seconds, Chance came running.
'Yes, mama?'

'Stand still, dear,'

'Yes, mama.' Chance stood rigid as stone and Elphaba held the photo next to his face. Sure enough, Chance and the baby looked like the same boy, save that there was more than twenty years' difference between them.

Fiyero gasped. 'Now we just need to find out why it was given to you.'

'Maybe it's a warning about Chance?' Elphaba said, shooing Chance away at the same time.

'How so?'

'Night baby borning, same as the morning. The baby in the morning died without warning… maybe that will happen to Chance?'

'Don't say such things!' Fiyero said, louder than necessary. 'It's just a rhyme, nothing more, nothing less. It just had a miraculous meaning that applied to our family.'

'Hmm…' Elphaba replied. This was too coincidental. It needed to apply to their family; why else would it have been given, anyway?

If the man in robes was Boq all along, does that mean that Boq had the prophecy? Elphaba asked herself. Or was he under the instruction of somebody else? The Wizard, perhaps? Lurline only knows, She gave up trying to think, and went to make breakfast.

The stupid cow! Boq thought bitterly. Why did she feel she needed to lie to me? It suddenly crossed his mind that perhaps she had seen him coming. The stupid, prophetic cow! He screamed in his head. Well, at least he could see important things like where she lived and things like that…