For disclaimer and other stuff, see part 1 and thank you for the reviews to FaeTiggular, greengirl16 and Happy loving Heroes.

Chapter 5

For the rest of her train-ride, Arwen tried to avoid looking at and talking to Taye. He tried but everytime he started to talk to her, she turned away or opened one of the diaries, leafing through the pages, not really reading the words that were written.

She was lost in thought, thinking about the feeling she had felt when he had touched her. No, she couldn't start letting herself feel. Not now, not until she knew who she was. She owed it to herself and her parents to find out the truth, to find her roots. Arwen knew that she wanted a love like her parents had. A love that would endure everything, even being apart from each other.

"Next stop is Kiamo Ko," Taye's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Finally," Arwen was glad that the first part of her journey would soon be over.

"Tell me again, why are you going to visit this place."

Arwen shook her head. Still she couldn't give him an answer.

"Then I hope you find what you are looking for, just Arwen," he said with a grin.

Arwen hoped that she could find what she was looking for too.

She had already figured out that the tin-man who had accompanied Dorothy towards Kiamo Ko could have been Boq, the munchkin her aunt Nessa had made loose his heart. After visiting Kiamo Ko she would travel to Munchkinland and ask him about her mother.

Arwen already knew that she had to find a believable lie to explain why she was looking for answers to unvoiced questions about the Wicked Witch. Maybe she could tell people that she intended to write a book about the Wicked Witch. There were enough books about the Wonderful Wizard and Dorothy Gale, the saviour of Oz. Now Oz needed a book about the Wicked Witch. Writing a book could be a good idea. Maybe it was her chance to tell the truth about her mother and clear her name.

Soon it was time for her to leave the train. Kiamo Ko was only a short walk away from the train station, maybe an hour away.

The castle loomed ahead of her as she walked towards it. She didn't know what she would find there. Her aunt Glinda had already described where she should start looking for answers. The room in the highest tower had been her mother's refugee, the room Arwen had seen in her nightmare.

Being here, seeing Kiamo Ko, brought back memories of a life she hadn't lived. Maybe those were her mother's memories as well.

The green woman picked the baby up and brought the little girl's face up to her own.

"Arwen, I am sorry. You know that I love you and that's something I thought I wouldn't be capable of. But as you grew inside me, I learned to love you as I learned to love your father. I am sure he would be proud of you. Now I have to say goodbye. I am sorry, little one, but I can't take you with me where I am going. There is one thing I have to tell you. Whatever you do I will always be proud of you, Arwen, and don't forget that I love you, always."

After having said goodbye to her little girl she walked over to Glinda.

Arwen wondered for the thousandth time why she had come back to a place that held so much badness for her, so much misery. It was a place that had permanently scarred her in so many ways, the place where her mother had died.

Arwen took a deep breath and squarred her shoulders before entering Kiamo Ko. She pushed slowly on the heavy door and it swung forward, admitting her into the darkened castle.

It was as she had imagined it; an old castle once filled with life. Now the place only held the memories of a misunderstood woman, her mother. Arwen knew that she had to get upstairs, high up the tower.

Unsure of what lay ahead of her, Arwen left her suitcase in the entrance hall and began walking towards the staircase. She wanted and needed to go upstairs, to the tower room. She needed to see for herself. She needed to feel.

A green woman was kneeling on the floor, praying.

"I don't believe in you, I never had. But if you exist like my sister said, I beg of you to keep my baby save. I am not worth saving, but she is. Arwen has her whole life ahead of her. Don't punish her for who her mother is. It's not her fault that I am the Wicked Witch of the West. Please, if you exist, save my baby."

She looked up from where she had been kneeling on the floor, towards the baby who was asleep in a basket next to her before she continued asking the Unnamed God and everyone else the Ozians believed in to save her daughter.

"Save Arwen. I've never begged for anything in my life. I don't even want you to save me. I am not worth saving, but she is."

Arwen gazed outside the window, imagining her mother standing here at the window, enjoying the view. The view, complete with rolling mountains and a sparkling lake, was veiled with a layer of darkness. It was only dusk, but shadowy and threatening clouds were rolling in, distantly rumbling.

It was always raining now. The sky was weeping. She had always imagined that the rain was cleansing. Arwen wanted the rain to come and wash away her fears, anxieties, and imperfections. She had always thought that she was just any ordinary girl, not popular, having very few friends. But Arwen had never cared for all of that. She had only been interested in her studies and she had achieved a lot. Sometimes she felt as if the world was closing in around her. Sometimes she needed to feel freedom or something similar. What do you call that desire to be free, to soar above the troubling world? To... fly? Yes, flying, defying gravity.

As she turned around Arwen saw a broom leaning against the wall. A magic broom? Her mother had been able to defy gravity. Could she too? There was only one way to find out.

She already imagined what she had to do. Arwen only had to hold out her hand and will the broom over to her. And that she did. The broom shot into her hand causing her to beamed with happiness: "I did it!"

This was the moment Arwen realized that she had really inherited her mother's magical talent. She was a witch like her mother had been.

Arwen mounted the broom. She wanted to fly, to defy gravity, to feel connected to her mother.

And without thinking about consequences, she kicked of the ground and soared out the tower window, flying high. She was flying through the western sky.

Like mother, like daughter.