It had been a few weeks since Rain had left on her journey to wherever the winds of fate decided to lead her. Upon her own broom she rose, soaring high into the sky so that the land appeared far beneath her domain. Her father, Liir, trusted that she would be responsible and make the right choices in regards to herself and her own safety and with that, he let her go now that she had come of age and was truly a witch in the making, just like her grandmother before her.

Liir, lonely and isolated thanks to the departure of his former wife Candle, found himself in a state not far from misery. His daughter was gone, his wife left him, and he had no family left. All of them - Nor… Irji… Hell, even Manek… they were all long deceased. His stepmother Sarima and her sisters, too, were gone… His great aunt Nessarose or as she was commonly known "The Wicked Witch of the East," had been dead for over twenty years now… Then there was the father he never knew, Fiyero… and of course, his claim to fame who brought about bittersweet childhood memories that seemed to abrade away what was left of his sanity after everything he had been through in his life - his mother. Being the son of The Wicked Witch of the West was not an easy task, but it was something he wouldn't trade for anything. Her legacy lived on and with the recent passing of Glinda the Good in her cell in South Stairs, everyone from the days of old was now truly and utterly dead and gone. He, Liir, was the sole survivor of those days, the days when the Wizard ruled as the tyrant of Oz.

"There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of her," he whispered to himself of his mother one morning, stirring his coffee and looking at the clouds of cream or the endless galaxies containing countless stars (depending on which way he viewed them). Sighing, he thought about his former wife and all the hell she put him through over the years. "Everything form raping me to running off and abandoning me with our child numerous times to finally divorcing me and leaving without a trace… That Quadling really has a lot to explain for herself…"

Feeling lonely, he went outside to milk the goats and there he sat in his own midst, collecting the fruits of his labor, thinking about someone he hadn't seen in a while… Someone he really missed and would give anything for… Now that there was no more point in fighting, no more need to involve himself in matters far greater than himself, he just wanted to live and let live. And what he wanted most of all was someone he needn't spend long fishing for in his own memory… A man, about the same age as him, give or take a year or two, with a built and well statured body of fine muscles, and those mystic emerald eyes upon his handsome face… The gorgeous and straight blonde hair that was always slicked up and well kempt, not reaching below his earlobes. His name was something Liir meditated upon for a good while, contemplating its fluency and beauty as he smiled delicately at the thought of a happy reunion.

"Trism…"

The beautiful blonde man was now a prisoner in South Stairs, thanks to his unwilling service to the witch Mombey when she was planning her assault on the Emerald City. Trism, poor Trism, was now a prisoner in an awful place that would challenge his durability to the most extreme of levels. Liir couldn't allow this to go on any longer and with that, he further thought, almost crying.

After everything they went through together when they were in their mid-twenties, Liir could never forget him or his legacy upon his own life. Happily did he recall the imprint that man left upon his own heart, wishing genuinely for him to return to his life. Secretly, he prayed every night that Trism would return to him and that they could make a life together, far from the prying eyes of the world as they knew it. Rain was now all grown up and Candle was no where to be found and now was the time to call this vision ot reality. Liir made up his mind and he knew what he was going to do…

"I've got to find him…"

And with that thought, Liir grabbed his black cloak - the same cloak that once belonged to his mother - and went to the hill where the tree of brooms was growing. He grabbed the original broom, now seated at the topmost part of the tree, after a steady climb, and he mounted himself upon it and rode the wild wind.

After about a day's worth of traveling on the Witch's old broom, he had reached the City of Emeralds - a mystical oasis of mechanical lights of the green, glistening beautiful as it jutted out form the central plains of Oz. Its countless skyscrapers shone brightly in the moonlight and Liir was careful not to collide with one. This mission, he knew, would be quite dangerous, but it would be worth it. He expedited far above the view of the masses in the streets below as he went towards that he knew would be the entrance to South Stairs. All he could think about was the love of his life and what his initial reaction would be once he came to his rescue.

PLEASE REVIEW! CHAPTER 2 COMING SOON!