~Chapter 5~
I didn't sleep the rest of that night. Between the pain and the vision that had scared me half to death it wasn't possible. But then there was that barely-there spark of hope I had been nursing in the back of my mind for more than a decade; Fiyero was alive. I had wanted to believe it but I had beaten it away for so many years, convinced that he was dead and gone as a result of loving me. It was so hard to believe, but it had to be true. That was not a simple dream my mind had conjured up to taunt me. The phantasm of Sarima Chistery and I had seen in the Solar had been no trick of the light or of my weakened eyes. I knew, in defiance of all the common sense I had instilled in myself over the years, that it had been nothing short of a vision. I knew it was true, and I would find Fiyero once I was well enough to get away from this godsforsaken fortress. I wanted to see him, to ask him so many things. How did he survive? Where has he been all these years? Why has he not tried to return to his family?
:Why has he not tried to return to me?:
I shook my head to clear it of the thought. I highly doubted that Fiyero could still love me after all these years, after all I had done or had in some way been responsible for. I was positive he'd never be able to forgive me for it all. I was the one who had caused the Gale Forcers to come after him and his family in the first place. I didn't want to wish for a love that I could never deserve or hope to feel again.
:I shouldn't even waste crazy dreams on it. I mean, look at me, I've been transformed into the Wicked Witch of the West – Fiyero probably loathes me as much as everyone else in Oz does, thanks to, well, everything.: Of everything I had done, everything I had lost, the loss of love cut the more deeply than anything, hurt more than all else put together.
:If I do manage to find him, what would I say? I don't know him anymore, and he certainly doesn't know me. I've changed so much . . . : It was true. I had changed in too many ways to count and probably even in some ways I didn't know of yet.
:Do I know me anymore?:
I looked down at the scarf still tied around my waist, gently undid the knot and pulled it off. I walked to the chest where my clothing was kept, folded the scarf, and buried it below everything else in the chest. It was no longer a keepsake of the love I had once known, but a hurtful reminder of the love which I could never hope to know again. A cold, hard look possessed my eyes as I snapped the trunk's lid shut.
:Love is dead to me.:
Days later, I had finally decided to attempt a spell to get me the hell out of Kiamo Ko. I could no longer stand to stay there one day more. It held too many haunting memories I would rather forget.
I had gathered together the few things I would need to take with me on my departure, Chistery on my shoulder and a few other items, but had hit a glitch in my well thought-out plan: I had neglected to find the focus object I needed to locate Fiyero. The focus had to be an item that contained something of the person the spell was to track down and send you to. I realized my mistake after all other precautions had been taken and slammed a fist into the table in frustration.
:Oh, how simply wonderful. That's another important mission I have managed to botch besides that failure of the Lurlinemas Eve assassination, and both regarded the same man in one way or another. How ironic. Why is it that whenever I try to do something with any connection to Fiyero whatsoever, something goes wrong?:
Degrading thoughts aside, I needed to find something to use as a focus. The scarf came to mind, but what did that have of Fiyero's in it? The only justification I could come up with to use it was that he was the one who had given it to me out of love -
:when I still believed in such a thing as love.:
I grabbed it from my trunk in a last desperate effort to execute the spell at least partway correctly, at least to get myself in the city or area where I might find Fiyero. It would probably blow up in my face anyway, considering my distinct lack of magical abilities, but it was my only shot at success. Finding Fiyero was infinitely important to me, more so than my revenge on the Wizard, if possible. I not only owed it to Sarima and her family, I owed it to myself.
Taking a few deep breaths and swallowing hard, I began to recite the transportation spell. I pleaded with whatever higher power there was (if there was one – I have always been an atheist), to at least let me succeed just this once. This was more important to me than anything else I've ever attempted, and if I failed I would never forgive myself. I closed my eyes as I completed the spell, the scarf clutched tight in my hands, fearing the worst. There was a burst of bright light behind my eyes, a loud squeal from Chistery, and then nothing.
I felt like I was falling through water, just without the liquid and the pain, with a monkey's tail brushing against my cheek. I prayed for the spell to have worked with everything I had in me, and soon enough I was thrown backward against a very solid surface as the wind was knocked completely out of me. Chistery leaped off me as I landed. Once I managed to gasp some air into my lungs I pushed myself to my feet, steadying myself with a hand on the brick wall I had been thrust into. Chistery scampered back up to my shoulder, running his fingers through my hair to ensure that I was still in one piece.
When I finally dared to open my eyes, I saw that the spell landed me in a run-down part of the Emerald City I had only seen in passing, despite having lived in the city for years before I called Kiamo Ko my home. The sorry excuse for a hovel in front of me much like the one I had once lived in on the other side of the city must be the place I was meant to have arrived at. I swallowed the enormous lump of "what ifs" in my throat and tried in vain to untangle the anxiety tying my stomach in knots. I had never been so completely nervous about something before. I hadn't seen him in so long –how would he react to me? How would I react to him?
Before I could rap on the door, it opened in front of me. Both I and the figure on the other side of the threshold inhaled sharply. Each knew at first glance who the other was.
Fiyero looked me up and down as I did the same, disbelief on his features. His face looked the same at it ever had; the lovely blue diamonds were still there, as were the wavy, shoulder length black hair and dark eyes I had once known so well, but there was a long scar running from the corner of his eye to his jaw. My eyes traveled down to take in the rest of him, and my heart lurched at the sight. There was a jagged, ugly scar slashing across his chest and abdomen, no doubt from a wound meant to be fatal. The fact that I knew where it had come from made my heart sick and sad. I could tell he had hardened himself, as I had over the years, against pain of any sort; the gash across his torso looked like the kind of wound that could give pain for ages.
Silently, he motioned for me to follow him inside. I noticed how he walked with a limp, as if a leg injury had never healed properly, which was more than likely the case as a result of the same incident that had given him the scars.
He led me into a makeshift kitchen and bade me sit down in one of the chairs at the table. Chistery jumped once more from my shoulder and scurried around, exploring.
"How are you still alive and why are you here?" Fiyero asked sharply, his eyes boring into mine.
My heart sank. I had feared that he would hate me as everyone else had, and I tried with much difficulty to resign myself to the fact that my worst fear had just been confirmed. I averted my eyes and stayed silent for a few moments more, trying to articulate the thoughts roiling furiously, each one jostling to be the first to burst forth from my lips.
"Elphie?" he asked, more gently than before, "Are you alright?"
"I've never been what you would call 'alright', but if you mean that as my being a breathing, functioning human, the answer is yes."
He gave me a wan smile. "Start at the beginning. Don't spare me any details. I need to hear it all from your mouth. I've got all too much time on my hands, more than enough to hear the tale you've got to tell, and by the looks of things, you do, too, more than enough to tell it."
And so I spun him my tale. As I spoke of the events that had passed since his "death", I submerged into numbness, mechanically recounting the better part of the last twenty years of my life. I didn't need to relive every emotion I had felt in those twenty years, especially not now, and my forced lack of feeling kept it all from flowing back and pulling me under.
Fiyero stayed silent, listening in brooding silence, concentrating fully on all I had to tell. Finally, after quite an extended monologue, I broke from my unfeeling shell and dropped my head onto my arms, which were resting on the table. I involuntarily tensed my arms and pressed my eyes shut in apprehension and frustration at myself. I had revealed so much to him – what had I done? I now had nothing to defend myself with should he decide to turn on me.
To my utter surprise, I heard a chair's legs grate on the floor and in the next instant, his hands were on my shoulders, gently massaging away the knots that had tied themselves in my muscles. I relaxed and let my guard down as a huge wave of relief swept over me.
I didn't sleep the rest of that night. Between the pain and the vision that had scared me half to death it wasn't possible. But then there was that barely-there spark of hope I had been nursing in the back of my mind for more than a decade; Fiyero was alive. I had wanted to believe it but I had beaten it away for so many years, convinced that he was dead and gone as a result of loving me. It was so hard to believe, but it had to be true. That was not a simple dream my mind had conjured up to taunt me. The phantasm of Sarima Chistery and I had seen in the Solar had been no trick of the light or of my weakened eyes. I knew, in defiance of all the common sense I had instilled in myself over the years, that it had been nothing short of a vision. I knew it was true, and I would find Fiyero once I was well enough to get away from this godsforsaken fortress. I wanted to see him, to ask him so many things. How did he survive? Where has he been all these years? Why has he not tried to return to his family?
:Why has he not tried to return to me?:
I shook my head to clear it of the thought. I highly doubted that Fiyero could still love me after all these years, after all I had done or had in some way been responsible for. I was positive he'd never be able to forgive me for it all. I was the one who had caused the Gale Forcers to come after him and his family in the first place. I didn't want to wish for a love that I could never deserve or hope to feel again.
:I shouldn't even waste crazy dreams on it. I mean, look at me, I've been transformed into the Wicked Witch of the West – Fiyero probably loathes me as much as everyone else in Oz does, thanks to, well, everything.: Of everything I had done, everything I had lost, the loss of love cut the more deeply than anything, hurt more than all else put together.
:If I do manage to find him, what would I say? I don't know him anymore, and he certainly doesn't know me. I've changed so much . . . : It was true. I had changed in too many ways to count and probably even in some ways I didn't know of yet.
:Do I know me anymore?:
I looked down at the scarf still tied around my waist, gently undid the knot and pulled it off. I walked to the chest where my clothing was kept, folded the scarf, and buried it below everything else in the chest. It was no longer a keepsake of the love I had once known, but a hurtful reminder of the love which I could never hope to know again. A cold, hard look possessed my eyes as I snapped the trunk's lid shut.
:Love is dead to me.:
Days later, I had finally decided to attempt a spell to get me the hell out of Kiamo Ko. I could no longer stand to stay there one day more. It held too many haunting memories I would rather forget.
I had gathered together the few things I would need to take with me on my departure, Chistery on my shoulder and a few other items, but had hit a glitch in my well thought-out plan: I had neglected to find the focus object I needed to locate Fiyero. The focus had to be an item that contained something of the person the spell was to track down and send you to. I realized my mistake after all other precautions had been taken and slammed a fist into the table in frustration.
:Oh, how simply wonderful. That's another important mission I have managed to botch besides that failure of the Lurlinemas Eve assassination, and both regarded the same man in one way or another. How ironic. Why is it that whenever I try to do something with any connection to Fiyero whatsoever, something goes wrong?:
Degrading thoughts aside, I needed to find something to use as a focus. The scarf came to mind, but what did that have of Fiyero's in it? The only justification I could come up with to use it was that he was the one who had given it to me out of love -
:when I still believed in such a thing as love.:
I grabbed it from my trunk in a last desperate effort to execute the spell at least partway correctly, at least to get myself in the city or area where I might find Fiyero. It would probably blow up in my face anyway, considering my distinct lack of magical abilities, but it was my only shot at success. Finding Fiyero was infinitely important to me, more so than my revenge on the Wizard, if possible. I not only owed it to Sarima and her family, I owed it to myself.
Taking a few deep breaths and swallowing hard, I began to recite the transportation spell. I pleaded with whatever higher power there was (if there was one – I have always been an atheist), to at least let me succeed just this once. This was more important to me than anything else I've ever attempted, and if I failed I would never forgive myself. I closed my eyes as I completed the spell, the scarf clutched tight in my hands, fearing the worst. There was a burst of bright light behind my eyes, a loud squeal from Chistery, and then nothing.
I felt like I was falling through water, just without the liquid and the pain, with a monkey's tail brushing against my cheek. I prayed for the spell to have worked with everything I had in me, and soon enough I was thrown backward against a very solid surface as the wind was knocked completely out of me. Chistery leaped off me as I landed. Once I managed to gasp some air into my lungs I pushed myself to my feet, steadying myself with a hand on the brick wall I had been thrust into. Chistery scampered back up to my shoulder, running his fingers through my hair to ensure that I was still in one piece.
When I finally dared to open my eyes, I saw that the spell landed me in a run-down part of the Emerald City I had only seen in passing, despite having lived in the city for years before I called Kiamo Ko my home. The sorry excuse for a hovel in front of me much like the one I had once lived in on the other side of the city must be the place I was meant to have arrived at. I swallowed the enormous lump of "what ifs" in my throat and tried in vain to untangle the anxiety tying my stomach in knots. I had never been so completely nervous about something before. I hadn't seen him in so long –how would he react to me? How would I react to him?
Before I could rap on the door, it opened in front of me. Both I and the figure on the other side of the threshold inhaled sharply. Each knew at first glance who the other was.
Fiyero looked me up and down as I did the same, disbelief on his features. His face looked the same at it ever had; the lovely blue diamonds were still there, as were the wavy, shoulder length black hair and dark eyes I had once known so well, but there was a long scar running from the corner of his eye to his jaw. My eyes traveled down to take in the rest of him, and my heart lurched at the sight. There was a jagged, ugly scar slashing across his chest and abdomen, no doubt from a wound meant to be fatal. The fact that I knew where it had come from made my heart sick and sad. I could tell he had hardened himself, as I had over the years, against pain of any sort; the gash across his torso looked like the kind of wound that could give pain for ages.
Silently, he motioned for me to follow him inside. I noticed how he walked with a limp, as if a leg injury had never healed properly, which was more than likely the case as a result of the same incident that had given him the scars.
He led me into a makeshift kitchen and bade me sit down in one of the chairs at the table. Chistery jumped once more from my shoulder and scurried around, exploring.
"How are you still alive and why are you here?" Fiyero asked sharply, his eyes boring into mine.
My heart sank. I had feared that he would hate me as everyone else had, and I tried with much difficulty to resign myself to the fact that my worst fear had just been confirmed. I averted my eyes and stayed silent for a few moments more, trying to articulate the thoughts roiling furiously, each one jostling to be the first to burst forth from my lips.
"Elphie?" he asked, more gently than before, "Are you alright?"
"I've never been what you would call 'alright', but if you mean that as my being a breathing, functioning human, the answer is yes."
He gave me a wan smile. "Start at the beginning. Don't spare me any details. I need to hear it all from your mouth. I've got all too much time on my hands, more than enough to hear the tale you've got to tell, and by the looks of things, you do, too, more than enough to tell it."
And so I spun him my tale. As I spoke of the events that had passed since his "death", I submerged into numbness, mechanically recounting the better part of the last twenty years of my life. I didn't need to relive every emotion I had felt in those twenty years, especially not now, and my forced lack of feeling kept it all from flowing back and pulling me under.
Fiyero stayed silent, listening in brooding silence, concentrating fully on all I had to tell. Finally, after quite an extended monologue, I broke from my unfeeling shell and dropped my head onto my arms, which were resting on the table. I involuntarily tensed my arms and pressed my eyes shut in apprehension and frustration at myself. I had revealed so much to him – what had I done? I now had nothing to defend myself with should he decide to turn on me.
To my utter surprise, I heard a chair's legs grate on the floor and in the next instant, his hands were on my shoulders, gently massaging away the knots that had tied themselves in my muscles. I relaxed and let my guard down as a huge wave of relief swept over me.