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Part 3 chapter 7

The minute he returned to the base Liir went in search of Candle. He found her where she normally was, working her rounds at the infirmary with Dr. Akota. In the last few months she had decided that she wanted to become a full Doctor and had been speaking with the Bear about how to set about it. However, aside from her classes, she still worked as a nurse. When he entered the infirmary, she had her back to him and was making a note on a supply chart. He looked over at another nurse and put his finger to his lips. She chuckled silently and shook her head as he hopped into one of the free beds and signalled at the other woman who rolled her eyes and cried over-theatrically

"Oh nurse Candle! Oh nurse Candle! I think we have a serious one here!" Candle turned, her black bun gleaming in the lights and her brown eyes attentive at fist, ready to hear a list of symptoms, but then glittered mischievously at the smirk on the other woman's face as she jerked her head at Liir. The young man was lying prone on one of the cots with one arm thrown dramatically over his face and the other hanging limply off the side of the bed. A smile tugged at the corner of the Quadling's mouth as she walked over and sat down beside him.

"Really?" she asked, pretending to check his pulse, "Hmm. Well, this does look serious. I think I have a diagnosis."

"What? How long do I have before I succumb?" Liir "implored"

"Oh it's too late for that." The Quadling replied, "You've already got a terrible combination of the over-drama flu combined with a natural inability to act." Liir bolted up so that he was leaning on his elbow at this

"I do so have acting ability!" He said indignantly. The patients watching tittered with laughter at the show "But nevertheless," He resumed his previous position, "What would you prescribe?" Candle briefly glanced at their audience and smirked. Liir was good at boosting moral, he often helped the patients with visits like these

"I would suggest a healthy dose of humility and…" she trailed off as she leaned in, "Maybe a kiss?"

"Happy to oblige." Her boyfriend replied as he met her lips. There were whistles and clapping at this move. Unnoticed in the doorway, Akota smiled. Candle had become so much more confident since she became involved with Liir, and particularly after she received that uniform. Liir never pushed her and always allowed Candle to make the first move, so she felt safe with him. They pulled back after only a few moments and Candle whispered in his ear,

"I'm off in an hour and I have something that I think you'll want to see. You have some fans waiting." Liir followed her gaze to the small cluster of little ones that were watching him eagerly. He was always sure to bring this group a few sweets. They were very tragic and unfortunate casualties—children caught in the crossfire and injured. These ones were on the road to recovery. There was another group whose fate was uncertain.

He kissed Candle on the cheek and went over to his little fan club to entertain them and the rest of the patients with some clever tricks sprinkled with just a hint of real magic. There was a round of excited applause as he began juggling a single orange which magically multiplied in the air until there were closer to 8 wheeling in a circle in the air…

An hour later Candle walked out to the courtyard that she and Liir spent so much time in to find him standing by the fountain with his back to her, Fiyero's old sword in his hands. She smiled slightly as she looked down at the book in her hands and bit her lip slightly with excitement.

"Liir, you'll never believe what we found while you were away! Do you remember that conversation you and your family had in the library before you left?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well, I enlisted the help of a few people. I know this was your family project but once you started talking about records we, that is, Doctor Dillamond and myself, thought we might be able to help after all! Remember how you all looked through that crystal ball thing of yours?"

"Yes, we tried to scry for it but couldn't narrow it down enough." Liir said, remembering the failed attempt.

"Well, it was good for something! We think we might have an idea about the Fountain."

All thoughts of battle and fear for his loved ones briefly vanished from Liir's mind at this information

"Of youth?" he asked

"Of course the fountain of youth! What other mythical healing water have you been looking for?" Candle asked with unusual snarkiness

"But…but how?" Liir asked

"Liir, it doesn't take magical powers to read old records. And we consulted Princess Nastoya. She may be old, but she's an Elephant. Their memories are near-perfect, just like the saying goes."

"Elephants never forget; yes, I know the phrase."

"Well, she remembered that when some bout of plague or another swept through Oz there was this one little Village near the mountains that wasn't very badly hit. A few of their old biddies got it but most of the young and strong didn't even catch a sniffle and the ones that did all survived. The plague barely touched them when it decimated pretty much every other town. Their in the mountains, tough land to farm but they haven't had an insufficient harvest in living memory! They aren't all bounty crops but this one wasn't affected all that much by the great famine. They only had to tighten their belts a notch or two and only lost the oldest of the old and the smallest of the small to mal-nutrition diseases. The berries in that area are always fat and juicy too, so the gathering is good as well. They're reasonably fed."

"What's their water source?" Liir asked, his interest officially peaked. Sweet Oz, he really was starting to sound like his mother.

"They have a few." Candle said, clearly excited about their findings as she took out the map she had brought with her and opened it up to show him. She pointed to two spots on it.

"Here are their two primary sources. There's a spring at the bottom of the mountain and a sort of stream thing. But they also collect run-off water from the mountain to supplement the other two sources!" the Quadling told him in excitement. "And then there's the village history to consider. Dr. Akota managed to rustle that up from his days as a traveling doctor."

"What sort of medical history?"

"A villager there can expect to live into their 80s and miscarriage is uncommon in women. On the other side of the mountain pass the life expectancy is decades shorter and 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage or stillbirth. We looked it up in some of the records from the days of the Ozma when everyone had to fill out her census every few decades. It fits with what you and your mother were saying earlier! The population is hardy, but not invincible!"

She showed him the notes from various travelers and the maps. He flipped through them with a sort of cautious excitement. In a rush of emotion he let out a cheer and picked Candle up, spinning her around once before setting her back on her feet to embrace her.

"Have I ever told you how amazing you are?"

"It wasn't just me, silly. Dr. Dillamond thought of it! He went through most of the records too and—" the Quadling was cut off by a gentle finger on her lips.

"Have I ever told you how amazing you are?" Liir repeated. Candle smiled shyly and tucked a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear before craning her neck upwards slightly to kiss her boyfriend. The young man wrapped his arms around her waist as hers slid around his neck as they closed their eyes to savor the moment.

Suddenly, without warning something flashed across Liir's mind with and he jumped back with a sharp intake of breath, his eyes flying open.

"Liir?" Candle asked, "Liir what's wrong?"

The young man shook his head to clear it. What was wrong? Whatever it was had flashed through his mind to quickly, he couldn't quite figure out what it had been at that moment. At that instant the only image he got was that of his sister looking at a book on the floor a few paces in front of her, biting down on the back of her hand as she did so. She looked…scared. Shaky. The next second she was completely closed to him, rather rudely so too. Annoyed, he filed it away for later.

In the meantime his girlfriend was looking up at him with wide, concerned brown eyes as she grabbed his head between her hands to make him look at her. He smiled to try and reassure her.

"It's okay. It's nothing. Come, we should find my parents."

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The Mage Xorthion sat alone in his chambers from within the Goblin stronghold, rubbing a rose petal between his fingers as he contemplated his latest encounter with Rhonaraye. It had been emotionally torturous but illuminating. Not everything was lost. She did still love him. Now there was only the war in the way of their romance, he was sure of it. The Goblin King, the Wizard and Kynot, perhaps Princess Nastoya (depending on how much of the massive She-Elephant was still there) were all that stood in their way; he was sure of it. Well, they would simply have to go.

The Wizard would be handled by either his Animal allies or the goblin army or very likely his own Press Secretary, if someone didn't eliminate her first. Kynot he wanted his revenge on, but could live without personally settling that particular score if necessary. The Goblin King, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. This had all begun with him. Any traces of devotion that he had once held for his master had long since melted, leaving only a deep, mind-consuming, burning hatred; a hatred that had truly begun many years ago after that bungled capture which had seen Rhonaraye, and not the Eagle general, in the dungeon chambers of the King's underground stronghold…

/ Flashback/

"WHERE IS SHE?" Tristan boomed, the large doors opening with an audible bang to admit him to his master's throne room. The Goblin King was sitting on his gilded chair, a massive blob juxtaposed against his emaciated subjects. He looked up from his goblet to see the young man thundering up to him.

"Ahh, my boy! You have returned!" the large warty green man sneered.

"WHERE IS SHE?" Tristan roared, his hands fisting in his master's robes. The King didn't look worried though. He smirked, toad-like.

"She's in the dungeons, of course. Where did you expect?"

"We made a deal!" Tristan growled, his knuckles turning white. The King's leer turned even crueler and he snapped his fingers. Tristan's hands jerked away from his master's throat and he staggered backwards in fury.

"The deal was that you do you your job and I wouldn't kill her. I haven't. But I really should. She's cost me my Vizier. All it would take is one command from me. It honestly wouldn't take much effort at this point. What do you think, Tristan?"

The handsome young man felt the blood drain from his face as the threat struck him like a blow. The only woman he had ever loved? The only person who had ever truly loved him? He couldn't!

"No…" he gasped "NO!"

"She does seem to put dangerous ideas in your head…" the King remarked, watching his pet Mage shake his head in horror.

"No!" he insisted "No…you can't…"

"I can."

"I'll…I'll do anything, anything!" Tristan begged as he fell to one knee in subjugation.

"Honestly, why didn't you ever just take her if you want her so badly? She can't exactly put up a fight right now, sate yourself."

Tristan felt his stomach lurch and his blood boil at such a suggestion. However, he also knew it to be a threat.

"Stop it! Please! I'll…I'll give you my power!" The Mage pleaded. His master laughed.

"I have that already, my dear boy. I can draw from you when I want." The King said

Tristan had never felt such hate. He stood from his kneel slowly.

"Not anymore." He said darkly. To his further rage he watched a smirk spread across the Goblin king's face as he rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively

"Out of my presence, boy. I'll deal with you later."

At that moment the mage decided that he wanted to see the Goblin dead. However, he had other priorities at that moment. He didn't care about permission. No one could stop him! As a matter of fact he would enjoy their attempts.

Tristan swept through the underground stronghold to the dungeons, indiscriminately igniting anyone in his way. When he reached the dungeons he seized the warden by the neck and slammed him against a stalagmite. He quickly got the information he wanted and rushed down a tunnel. When he was nearly there a scream of utter agony ripped through the air, cutting right into him as though he had received the injury personally. Clutching his staff, the Mage blew up the obstacle that blocked his path.

Inside the now door-less room, two golem-like creatures looked up, each gripping a rather frightening instrument. The echo of the scream still hung in the air. Tristan looked from them to the limp, bloody pulp suspended from her wrists by the iron chains that led up to the ceiling. Her scarlet hair clung to her face, glistening with blood.

The Mage looked back at the young woman's attackers. In one split instant he could see that they knew their fate. The next moment he screamed with pure rage, letting them both experience the full force of his wrath. He didn't spend much time on them and kicked their remains out of his way as he threw himself over to the prisoner, his staff clattering to the floor as he gently but urgently took her face into his hands.

"Raye— Nari, can you hear me? Raye, answer me please…" he whispered frantically. She was a mess. Her breathing was labored and heavy. He brushed hair out of her eyes before glancing at the manacles around her pale wrists. In a frenzy he seized a chain in each hand and flooded them with his power, accelerating the rusting process until the links on both disintegrated. The mage moved quickly to catch the prisoner as she fell. A moan of pain escaped her cracked lips at the pain the movement and impact on her battered body as she fell against him.

Tristan slowly knelt down, lowering her to the floor as gently as he could whilst carefully redistributing her weight so that he was cradling her shoulders tenderly with one arm. His other hand trembling slightly with rage, horror and grief, he gently made to cup her face, his palm just lightly touching the bloodied side of her face. Half-lidded, pain-glazed silver eyes struggled to focus on him.

"Tris…Tristan?" she whimpered weakly, her trembling, mangled, blood-soaked right hand reaching for his face. He held it with his own, not caring about the mess.

"Shh, shhh…It's going to be okay. I'm going to get you out of here." Tristan told her. He clutched her to him as gently as he could and kissed her forehead tenderly as he looped his free arm under her legs, lifting her in one swift motion. She clutched the collar of his robe as he started to walk out, trying to move as swiftly as he could without jostling her. He picked up the pace when she lost consciousness.

The Mage had walked out of the dungeon with her cradled in his arms. In his wake there was total destruction. On his way out of the underground prison the Goblin King watched him from afar. Tristan had stopped, turned, and looked directly at his master with a gaze that would burn most people to ashes before he continued walking to where he knew the King kept his enchanted carpets.

He had hurried to the one place he knew was safe for her; The Bear Akota's clinic. It had been snowing when he had nearly collapsed in the doorway, huddling around her to try and shelter her broken, battered body as best he could from the snow as he banged on the door. Dr. Akota had opened it and looked down to see Tristan clutching a bruised and bloodied mess that vaguely resembled a human being with a discolored head of scarlet hair resting against his chest. Tristan didn't know if the Bear knew about what had happened yet, about Tristan's choice.

"Please!" he had begged "Please, help!"

/End Of Flashback/

The Bear had been true to form. Akota hadn't hesitated in attending to his red-haired friend, working tirelessly through the night and then the morning to save her. Even after he had finished sewing her back together and stemming the internal bleeding she had been fighting for her life.

The Rebellion had been true to form as well. Dr. Akota had told them where to find Tristan and they had come quickly. Pathetic fools, they'd tried to either arrest him or kill him. They never would have succeeded, obviously, but he had felt threatened enough that he'd been forced to flee. Being a mage didn't make him immune to blades or claws, after all. He had been forced to flee before he even knew if Rhonaraye would ever wake again.

That had been a mistake. He'd allowed them to chase him away and then proceed to move her (in direct violation of Dr. Akota's wishes by all accounts). By the time he had found her again she'd been poisoned against him. She'd never given him a chance to explain and had turned him into her enemy.

He'd gone through a stage of fury, of course. After it became clear that Rhonaraye would make no move to even think about the possibility that there might be more to the story he had even gone through a period where he resented her. He had risked everything for her and she repaid him with scorn and rejection! After the incident with her brother he had even turned his grief and rejection into a murderous fury. Thankfully she was very much a match for him and he hadn't done anything he would forever regret during those moments early on in the war where he had genuinely wanted to kill her. He had found out long ago that he could never do such a thing. Xorthion doubted that he would survive such an event himself; he didn't know that he could live in a world where Rhonaraye no longer existed.

But now…now he wanted to see his master suffer. He kept his darkest desire unvoiced, though, and bided his time. Now, with this one colossal spell tucked away for imminent use, revenge for his stolen life and ruined love was within his grasp.

The Mage contemplated all this as he started walking down the corridor to meet with his Master and their own war council, which was considerably smaller than their Ozian counterparts. This had its benefits and its drawbacks; they made decisions quicker but their tactics were far more casualty heavy. Then again, that wasn't a big problem for the Goblin King, his master.

His master. The only father figure, the only mentor he had ever known. He had returned to him following Rhonaraye's initial rejection, though he had somehow managed to avoid a re-binding. Perhaps the King didn't dare risk it; perhaps he didn't know it was needed or even how to do it without his magic vizier; perhaps the lingering traces of their old magical shackle were enough for him. Xorthion didn't know and didn't particularly care.

The group assembled was not one that the Mage cared for. The small-minded, power-hungry, petty, little, bitter men were already talking. Apparently the king had not deemed it necessary to wait for him. The fools. They would see. They would all pay. No one would ever order him around or shirk him ever again.

The rebellion would be brought to task too, of course. Oh, Xorthion wasn't swapping sides on this metaphorical game board. Oh no. He was removing himself from the equation entirely; this game was all his and by the time the imbeciles discovered that they were even playing it he would be the victor. Neither side would win this war. He would. And once he was finished, Oz would never be the same again. The time of these petty political fools was over. It was time for a new regime.

Of course, Xorthion said nothing of this as he took his seat and regarded the members present. There were a few turncoats, members of the Animal rebellion that had chafed at the idea of working with humans, especially the orchestrator of their race's torment. Then there were a few Gillikins, the occasional munchkinlander, that sort of thing. The most influential and famous of these traitors, however, were the Tin Man and the absent member whose vacant chair was a disdainful reminder of the man's arrogance.

It was almost funny. When one came down to it, this war had little to do with borders or treasure and everything to do with failed romance. Firstly and chiefly there was the Goblin King and Morrible. No one but the two of them really knew their story— only that they had grown up together and once been rather…close, up until an instant in which the King had fled and the current Ozian Press Secretary had made a hasty engagement (which hadn't lasted). The Mage knew that his master's feelings towards the toady woman were a strange and passionate mixture of lust, obsession, hate and possibly even a measure of love. However, they spent so much time trying to make each other miserable that no one was really sure of that last part.

Then there was the former Munchkin, Boq. He truly was heartless, but Xorthion doubted it had anything to do with his rusting silver body. The spell that had placed him in his current form had been nothing more than the straw to break the camel's back. Chuffery was the really unsettling one. To sum him up, he was a woman-hater. His raison detre was to extract revenge on his battered wife for "abandoning" and "betraying" him. On his own personal hit-list in addition to Glinda was the "whore's lover" and the "unnatural green freak" who blocked him from exercising his "rights and natural authority over the lower, baser, inferior creature" that he considered his wife (and all those who shared her gender) to be. The man was a raving lunatic.

Unfortunately, he was also the prime topic of conversation. Thanks to his considerable wealth, he was a rather valuable prisoner that they wanted to get back. They themselves had no valuable prisoners at the moment. Both the Wizard and Morrible had evaded their grasp, so it would be a point of pride to relieve the rebellion of what was undoubtedly a difficult prisoner. Xorthion didn't see what the big deal was. So far as he could see the Ozians were welcome to him. But his opinion didn't seem to be one that was widely shared.

Nevertheless, he sat through the discussion and listened to the plans outlined. He had to admit, there were some very intelligent people among their strategists. It helped that they had spies which were well planted. He even got to throw in a suggestion or two that would benefit his plans in the long run.

In the end he had laid his own plans in his head that worked perfectly with the assignment he was taking to disguise said plans.

He wondered what his master's dear old flame would have to say to him.

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Fiyero and Elphaba were stunned when they were shown the information. They were all assembled in Princess Nastoya's chambers. Well, all except one. Rhonaraye had not yet returned. It concerned them a little, but didn't exactly make them frantic. Sometimes she was simply like that and since Liir's first major vision (when he had shut her out) she had taken to keeping secrets from her twin again out of spite.

"I don't know," Elphaba said uncertainly as she looked at the paper "It seems too easy."

"I wouldn't call years of trying easy." Fiyero remarked. His lover shook her head

"We haven't been looking for the Fountain for years, just for a way to reverse the effects of the spell." She reminded him.

"It was your suggestion that we followed, looking through the records." Candle said

"I-I th-think this cou-ou-ould be i-it." Dr. Dillamond said as he hobbled forward. The green woman stepped forward to lead the old Goat to a chair. He sat down shakily, his movement severely impaired by this time. His former pupil smiled and put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. The Scarecrow looked around at them pensively before shaking his head and saying.

"Even if it is by some small chance the actual fountain, do we really have time to go?"

"Yes." someone cut in from the doorway. They turned to see Rhonaraye walking in. It was an annoying habit she had, eavesdropping and then just sort of walking into a conversation. She ignored the look her brother gave her.

"Go. You two have been waiting for long enough for this! Mother, I can handle your post back here while you check it out. You should have time to get there and back before Liir's vision."

"Rhona-Raye," Fiyero began

"Farro, what do you think you'd do in a battle as a scarecrow?" The redhead cut in sharply "All it would take for that psychotic rust bucket to take you away forever is a lit match!"

The others were all taken aback by this outburst. It was unusual for the Mage to be quite that rude with her father. However, before they could recover from their surprise, the redhead gave them all a strange sort of angry look before whetting her lips and regaining composure

"I'm sorry." She said shortly, but sincerely "Look…you two have waited long enough. You've always put this to the side in order to do your duty to Oz. Take the trip. Liir and I can cover things on this end while you're gone, right brother?"

Liir's eyes narrowed as he looked at his sister, wondering what exactly was going on. After a few moments though, he nodded. They all looked to Nastoya for permission. The She-Elephant considered them and then nodded once.

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A few hours later Liir made his way to his sister's quarters to tell her that their parents were leaving imminently. Her door was open, or at least it opened for him. He walked in to see Zach sitting on the carpet by the fireplace doodling. The little Mule didn't even look up to tell him that she was in her workroom. The young man smiled and ruffled his forelock fondly on his way to his sister's room.

Again, the door opened when he turned the lock, but this time he felt as though he were interrupting something. Rhonaraye was standing in front of the full-length mirror in her room, saying something to her reflection.

"…that I —no." she muttered to herself before taking a deep breath and apparently starting again. "It's just that I'm really…what I'm trying to say is—no, that's not right either. Okay…" Killyjoy was scratching ardently at a spot behind his ear while she was doing this. When the young man entered he jumped up and trotted over to him, demanding attention. The sound caught the young mage's attention. She whipped around and smiled at him.

"I'm coming." She told him. As she passed her table she closed the grimmerie that had been lying open on it with a thud. The twins walked back out to her living room.

"Zach, do you want to say goodbye to Uncle Farro and Aunt Elphie?" she asked. The Mule looked up at her sullenly. Raye rolled her eyes

"Zach, getting grounded had nothing to do with them and everything to do with the fact that you didn't do any of your homework and then told me that you did. Both Uncle Farro and Aunt Elphie—"

"Love me." Zach finished "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. They'll be back."

Rhonaraye opened her mouth as though to argue and then seemed to change her mind.

"You know what? Forget it. Stay here and sulk. I'll be back in 10 minutes and then I want to see that Life Sciences assignment, got it?"

The Mule snorted a sulky 'yes' and the twins departed.

"So." Liir said as they started walking "Zach's having trouble at school."

The redhead sighed and nodded.

"He's so smart. But apparently he's been mouthing off to his teachers, not doing assignments... he's frequently late—which is usually my fault in the morning. I don't know. Everyone's telling me that he's trying to get attention but I don't know what to do with him! I asked him if his homework was done and he'd told me it was!"

"Did you think of, I don't know, checking it?" Liir offered

"No, okay? I didn't. It never occurred to me that he wouldn't do it! I always had it done!"

"He's not you, Nari."

"Why would he be? I had nothing to do with his birth. But that's not the point. Doesn't he realize how lucky he is? His parents never got to go to school. When I remind him of that he gets mad."

"He's pissed!" Liir said with a shrug "I never liked being told how lucky I was when I was growing up. Kind'a resented mother for it actually."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Raye laughed as they rounded a corner. At that moment her expression became grave again and she stopped, causing her brother to pause as well.

"Liir, Zach's parent's—for reasons I will never know or understand—left him to me. If something happens to me, who should I leave him with?" she asked, searching his face for the answer to the question that was so clearly plaguing her. Liir opened and closed his mouth several times, at a loss for words.

"Would you take him?" she asked urgently when he didn't reply. He blinked, taken aback at the request.

"Are you planning on going somewhere?" he asked. This time it was Raye who looked taken aback.

"I-I didn't say that!" she said, just a little too quickly, "Look, I'd make sure Candle was looked after if anything happened to you!"

Liir considered this a moment

"Okay," he said "Fair enough. I promise to make sure that Zach will be looked after if, Lurline forbid, something were to happen to you."

In a swift motion that took Liir by surprise his sister threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Thank you." She whispered in his ear "I couldn't ask for a better brother."

"Nari, are you alright?" he asked when they pulled apart.

"Yeah," she said unconvincingly as they continued heading towards the tower take-off point that their parents were going to be leaving from via broom. They were both there, apparently talking to each other. Elphaba was fastening her heavy black cape around her neck and smoothing out the front of her dress in agitation. Fiyercrow was securely tying a string around the edge of his sleeve to minimize the loss of straw when they were flying. The pair looked up when their children arrived.

"Liir, Rhonaraye." Elphaba said. She seemed nervous. Liir smiled and strolled over to kiss his mother on the cheek

"Good luck, Mother." He said, knowing how much this meant to her. He turned to his Scarecrow-shaped father "So, with a little luck we might get to see just how much we actually look alike, huh?"

Fiyercrow through back his burlap-sack head and laughed, clapping his son on the shoulder. Elphaba also smiled at watching the moment only to catch the eye of the young woman in front of her. Rhonaraye stepped toward the green woman hesitantly.

"I just wanted to tell you that," she began before pausing slightly and apparently reconsidering what she was going to say "When I was a kid I always imagined meeting you, doing things with you, learning from you, even arguing with you. Just like the kids in the village did with their mothers. I had this amazing picture in my head of what you would have been like and who you were."

"I'll bet it wasn't quite what you got." Elphaba said sadly as she looked around uncomfortably

"No." Rhonaraye agreed, making her mother look back at her with insecurity written all over her expression. Her daughter shook her head "It didn't do you justice."

Rhonaraye leaned in slowly putting her arms around the green woman's shoulders briefly. After an initial moment of shock Elphaba held her daughter to her in a way that she had never been able to do before. Liir and Fiyero realized that this was the first time the mother and daughter had ever actually hugged. Elphaba had never even held Rhonaraye as a baby. They pulled apart.

"I love you, mamma." The redhead said before turning to the Scarecrow. She was grinning, but Liir could see that her eyes were shimmering "I'm going to miss you."

Fiyero shrugged and reached out to stroke her hair.

"I'll be back." He said with a shrug "Like you said, we should be able to get back soon." His daughter smiled and shook her head again

"No." she said "You'll come back as Fiyero, not Fiyercrow. I think this is goodbye for Farro."

"I'll still be the same person."

"Let me say it anyway." Raye said. The scarecrow frowned slightly but then shrugged.

"Alright." He said after a pause. The Mage gave a short sigh and regarded him for a long moment before finally saying in a quiet but steady voice

"Goodbye."

Alright, there we have another chapter. Please review. Here are the answers to my anonymous reviewers.

FriFro: The movie is pretty cool, I do enjoy it :) I'm glad you're starting to like my OC. Question though, is her being complicated a good or bad thing? More Elphie and Fiyero in upcoming chapters, promise!

() : Yeah, it was really awkward, hence the change. Glad you liked it! Fountain Of Youth is quickly approaching as you can see...;)