For disclaimer and other stuff, see part 1 and thank you for the reviews to greengirl16, musicfan1207, BreathOfMidnightAir, Juelz Rox and TillItryIllneverknow.

Chapter 3

During her journey Arwen had a lot of time to pick up her mother's diary again. She knew she should start at the beginning but, again, out of curiosity she opened one of the books on a random page.

June, 18th

Two days ago my life went horrible wrong. No, make it three days.

After visiting my sister Nessa, whom I tried to help, everything went wrong. I killed them. Maybe not intentionally, but with my good deeds, my spells. I killed Nessa, Boq and Fiyero.

I only wanted to do good and give Nessa the ability to walk. She thanked me, my good deed, in a very horrible way. Nessa was angry with Boq. She wanted him to love her but you can't force love.

I should have known that this cursed book, the Grimmerie, only brings evil. I should have known that there is no spell in this book that does good.

When Boq told my sister that he was in love with Glinda, and had always loved Glinda, I was shocked. I knew that he was always been smitten with Glinda, but that he loved her? I would have never imagined.

Nessa grabbed the Grimmerie and started to chant a spell, one about loosing your heart. But she didn't understand anything else about the spell. She even said the words wrong. I couldn't stop her and couldn't undo the damage she had caused. She made him loose his heart forever. He would die without a heart. Was this Nessa's intention? If she couldn't have him and his love, no one should? What could I have done to save him? Nothing! I did the next best thing and searched for a spell to keep him from dying but I turned him into a tin man by doing so. And my dear little sister, she accused me of being responsible for what happened to Boq. I only wanted to save him! I only wanted to do good!

I mustn't have been in my right mind because the next thing I did was travel to the Emerald City to see the Wizard again. Another disaster! It was the night of Glinda's engagment-party. She got engaged to Fiyero. Back at Shiz she had told me that she would marry Fiyero one day. The good girl gets the prince. It's always like this in fairytales but our life, my life, was never a fairytale.

He, the Wizard, wanted me to join him. At first it seemed like a wonderful idea. Finally I could come out of hiding. No one would look for me anymore. I wouldn't be called the enemy of Oz anymore. But then, when I saw Doctor Dillamond, I realized that we have nothing in common. I am nothing like him and I never will be. I promise that I will fight against the Wizard until one of us is dead!

Arwen knew about Doctor Dillamond. Aunt Glinda had told her that he had been her mother's favourite professor back at Shiz. He understood her thirst for knowledge, given her academic challenges and encouraged her mother to ask questions, even unwanted ones. He had been the main reason her mother had started fighting the Wizard, fighting for Animal rights. Her beliefs had made her mother the outcast and she could only imagine how alone her mother must have felt.

But there was more written on this date and Arwen continued to read, trying to uncover the mystery that was her mother.

Oh how I wish to die, to be reunited with my Fiyero again. He died two days ago, saving me. We spent the most wonderful night of my life together. I had never imagined that anyone could make me feel like this, like I am special, beautiful and loved.

But I should have known that I was never meant to have something good in my life for long. When I learned that my sister was in danger, I had to try and save her. She is, no, was my baby-sister. I had to help her, save her, but I had been to late. She was killed, crushed by a flying house. Worst of all, I know who is responsible for her death: our wonderful Wizard and his press secretary.

I am sure Glinda told them to use Nessa to try and lure me into a trap. Oh, and a trap it was. I would be dead by now if it wasn't for Fiyero. He came to my rescue and died saving me. I tried to save him. I had been looking for a spell in the Grimmerie, but this time there was no spell, no spell to help him, no spell to bring back the one I love. I can only long for him, to be with him, be in his arms again. And that I will, one day, I hope soon.

Arwen set the book down to wipe away the tears that were running down her cheeks.

Her mother had been deeply, madly in love with her father, who had died saving them. That was true love. Arwen wished that somehow she would find someone who loved her like her father had loved her mother but she was unsure if she ever would. Who would love her, the child of the wicked?

Would she end up like her parents? Dying young and alone? Her parents died with only a year between them, even sharing the same dying day, June 16th. Romantic. She still remembered what her aunt Glinda had said about her father's death. She had witnessed the Gale Force torturing her father, leaving him to die nailed on a pole on a cornfield. A while ago she had learned her fathers last words before he had died: "Fae, I love you. We will see each other again. Death won't be able to keep us apart."

Arwen longed for something like this, for the love she imagined her parents had. But before she could let herself fall in love she had to discover her roots. She was the daughter of the Wicked Witch of the West and the crown prince of the Arjiki tribe.

Did she have her mother's magical talent? Her thirst for academic knowledge? Or was she more like her father with his dancing through life attitude?

Arwen was told by her aunt that she had her father's smile, her mother's dark hair and his shining blue eyes. She even had her mother's sense of style or more the lack of. Arwen preferred frocks instead of frilly dresses. She loved the darker colors instead of pink or light blue.

Arwen would find out more about her parents during her journey, she hoped. But what good were books and memories when she couldn't have the real one, when she couldn't have her parents back.

Arwen closed her eyes, trying to prevent tears of frustration from spilling over. At least there wasn't anyone to witness her breakdown, the only blessing.

Suddenly Arwen's train of thoughts was interrupted as the compartment door slid open.

"Finally a free compartment," someone said as he walked inside. It was a young man with gray eyes and blonde hair.

Arwen quickly wiped her eyes and turned away, looking out of the window and watching the rain. She loved the rain. It had raining the day she had been born. It had been raining all of last week and it hadn't stopped yet. But she didn't care. It fit her mood.

"I am Taye Notaro from Gillikin," he introduced himself.

"Arwen."

Arwen didn't look at him. She was still gazing outside but she had stopped crying.

"Arwen?"

"Just Arwen."

"So, just Arwen, do you want to tell me what got you upset?"

Arwen turned around to look at him. She wasn't crying anymore, but streaks of tears could be seen along her cheeks.

"No."

"Normally, when I am upset, I tell someone and it helps me feel better."

Arwen took a deep breath. "I don't want to talk about it," she repeated.

"Then tell me, where are you going?"

"Kiamo Ko."

"The Winkie castle where the Wicked Witch died?"

This guy, Taye, was getting on her nerves. How dare he call her father a Winkie?

Arwen's expression was unreadable. Unlike other people, whose every emotion was readable to anyone with sight, Arwen had long ago perfected a perfectly blank face.

"Yes, the castle which belongs to the royal family of the Vinkus, where the Wicked Witch of the West was melted. I want to see it."

"There is nothing there."

"There is something for me to see, but you wouldn't understand."

"Try me," he challenged her but Arwen simply shook her head. He wouldn't understand. No one would.