[Part 1]

Chapter 2: You impertinent dog

*~Theodora~*

"So, how far are we from this Emerald City?"

"Not far. We just need to follow the yellow brick road," she motioned to the path which was finally becoming visible between the trees, "but it would be better not to wander in the dark. It's almost sunset, so the best solution would be to make camp and continue in the morning."

She wasn't lying, it would be safer to stop for the night, but if she was being honest, she did not want to return to the city so soon after leaving.

"Sounds reasonable. Should I keep an eye out for any other animals wanting to attack me?"

"Only the baboons are under her control."

Then she added after a pause, "It wasn't always this way, you know. Oz used to be so peaceful, but then the Wicked Witch cast chaos over the land." Ever since the day Glinda's actions came to light she's had two versions of the former princess in her head, unable to reconcile them with one another. "But she wouldn't dare to attack Emerald City."

"That's good. Speaking of, once we get there what exactly is going to happen?"

She'll have to face her sister.

"You will most likely be introduced to the people. Many of them have suffered because of the Wicked Witch, but meeting you will renew their hope. They'll see that all isn't lost."

It's only been five years, yet it feels like an eternity. Evanora's lost faith in the prophecy, but not Theodora. She's always known the king's words to be true and knew that if they were simply patient, the Wizard would inevitably arrive.

And look, she was right!

The Wizard has arrived and he will set things back to how they were meant to be. Glinda will see what she did was wrong and return to Emerald City to help the people she hurt. The Wizard will ascend and govern the people with the same concern and kindness he had shown her.

Oz will know peace again.

"Yeah... So, um, where shall we make camp?"

"I know the perfect place."

...

Theodora had lead the Wizard the long way around, hoping to learn more about him and the land he had come from. She learned that he had been born in a place called Omaha and had spent much time somewhere known as Kansas before a storm had caught his flying carriage and carried him across the Shifting Sands and deposited him in the eastern lake of the Winkie River between the Marshlands and the Oakhair Forest.

He seemed surprised to learn that there was a barrier separating Oz from the rest of Nonestica, but as he is the Wizard, it is only natural that his powers would create an entrance for him.

When they reached the clearing where she had stayed the night before, she showed the Wizard which trees could be used for firewood and then allowed him to build the pit. When he asked for a means to light it, she delighted in the opportunity to assist and summoned a tiny ember that she carefully breathed life into.

Part of her worried over losing control, but the Wizard was a soothing presence for her and she knew with him there she had nothing to fear.

"You are a witch of fire?"

"Yes," she smiled, pleased that he appeared to think her talented. Her smile grew strained though when she remembered what she had done to her sister only two days prior. "But I can't control it very well and sometimes when I'm angry, the fire just takes on a life of its own. That's why I don't like to use it. I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me."

Someone had already gotten hurt though.

Everything had been so normal; she had woken early, listened to Knuck debrief her sister on her daily schedule during their shared breakfast followed by a visit to the city and a walk in the gardens before she went to the kitchens to collect the tray for a shared lunch in her sister's study.

Evanora was stressed because of the increasing attacks, but when Theodora had attempted to ease her concerns by reminding her of the prophecy it had unexpectedly lead to an argument.

She had been so angry with her sister then, though now she cannot really recall why.

She does however remember quite vividly how a smouldering ball of fire had coalesced in front of her and then flew straight at her sister.

Evanora had only managed to raise her arms in defence – the right one across her face and the left across her stomach – when the fireball collided. Whether it had hissed or sizzled she does not recall, but her sister's startled scream had burrowed deep into her mind.

Thinking back, it is unclear when the guards had burst through the doors or how exactly the healer had gotten there because all Theodora could see was her sister laying sprawled across the floor, her beautiful skin marred by boiling wounds and her face contorted with pain she refused to voice.

When the captain asked her what had happened, she was unable to respond and had instead fled from the palace and the city itself. She'd been so afraid of what she had done that she hadn't even considered her sister's condition. When the shock had finally worn off, she had found herself crossing the border into the west and began wandering aimlessly, uncertain what to make of her feelings of intertwined anger and guilt.

Although at this point she truly couldn't say who it is that she was angry with.

"A kind girl like you? You wouldn't hurt a fly."

She smiled weakly. "Thank you, but that doesn't change the danger I pose. Not many people can use magic, so we witches tend to be feared. Especially untrained ones like me."

Would she be welcomed back to the Emerald City? Will she be dubbed 'wicked' and sent into exile?

"What of your magic, Wizard?"

"My magic?"

"Yes. Did you have a master or did you study from texts? And what branch is it? From what I saw earlier it seems you are familiar with transformation spells?"

"Ah, well it's rather difficult to explain." He stood awkwardly and removed his hat, smiling at her. "Since we have a fire, I might as well make myself comfortable."

-Emerald City-

*~Evanora~*

She had been prepared for an onslaught of work after the attacks of the last few days and had gone to particular effort to ensure there was nothing remiss in her appearance, yet in the end it felt her healing spells had been wasted for she had no more energy now than she had had after her episode.

Aside from the renewal of a firestorm in Miss Cuttenclip (she had to draft yet another request to Suds for support), what remains of the people of Morrow are falling victim to curses and famine (more and more of the residence of the old capital are streaming to Emerald City, half of them dying on the road and each influx demands calculations, expenses and piles of yet-to-be-approved plans and submissions) and the citizens of Chimneyville are collapsing from exhaustion due to providing shelter to those of Scare City (most are too afraid of the inhabitants to assist in the rebuilding effort, leaving her to contract masons and stoneworkers all the way from Herku at an increased imbursement).

When the advisor's study wasn't flooded with paperwork, she had to hold audience with refugees and council with the city ministers in which state affairs were discussed in between threats and curses upon the Wicked Witch (with each meeting her concern for her health increases).

More often than not her confirmation is required to send an escort with merchants and armed carts out to the farmlands in the West and for the occasional improvements to security which has become a near-daily necessity.

Any moment she may have managed to spare for herself would quickly be consumed by the complaints and concerns of the citizens fearing the wrath of the vile witch that had torn their lives asunder.

Times like this gave new meaning to the proverb: 'no rest for the wicked'.

And she had in fact not had the luxury of a second's rest for the last five days.

It took her whole nights to catch up with what had been missed during the day hours and entire days to catch up with what could not be dealt with at night.

As the Royal Advisor, Evanora was accustomed to the workload that went with ruling Oz however the same cannot be said when the country lacked a monarch and the people their content.

The Cardinal Coven is in ruins, Munchkinland faces anarchy, magic has been barred in Gillikin, Quadling Country is facing the brunt of Zurline's wrath and Evanora fears the forces moving in the shadows of Winkie Country – after all, how many of the people would truly choose her (a Wicked Witch) over the wizard who had defeated the cruel Lady Morella?

"-with the shifts. Preferably two sets of fresh eyes every other hour."

"Understood, my lady. We shall implement the new regime immediately."

She turned away without properly dismissing him and made no effort to see whether the captain had saluted her as he marched his way out the door, down the halls and back to the barracks.

Her interest lay more in the orbuculum and its visages than the conduct of her subordinates.

She rounded her desk, approaching the crystal with set intent and closed her eyes in focus as she cradled the ball between her hands. It wasn't long before she could feel the shift and her eyes opened to gaze into its depths, eager to see what had become of her sister since that morning.

"So this wicked witch, just how wicked is she?"

She was unfamiliar with the dell they had chosen for their camp, nonetheless they did appear to be on the edge of Winkie Country and if they were to continue following the Yellow Brick Road at an unhurried pace (and assuming they don't sleep in), they should arrive at Emerald City around noon tomorrow.

"She's as wicked as they come – she poisoned her own father."

"That's pretty wicked."

"He was a king and a wizard like you, but she wanted the throne all to herself. Poor man. But my sister chased her away from the Emerald City. I can't wait for her to meet you. She was starting to doubt that you'd ever come, but now she'll see and you're going to fix everything."

"Yeah."

Evanora could not quite decide what turned her stomach more, the way Theodora looked at the charlatan or her sister's praise for her misdeeds.

"You know what I think we need? A little music."

He pulled away his handkerchief to reveal a small wooden box and Evanora found herself eyeing it with scepticism. Sleight of hand was a con-artist's magic, but how did the fool expect to fit an instrument into such a small container? She doubted it would be suitable for anything more than a mouthpiece.

"Is that magic?"

"In a way. It's a music box. You've never seen one? Well, this belonged to my grandmother. A tsarina from Mirkutsk. Go on. I want you to have it."

"No one's ever given me anything just because they wanted to."

"How dramatic, Sister." She felt rather irritated by the accusation.

She had personally seen to all her sister's needs and expenses from the moment they had left the grounds of the old Witch's Castle. Winkie Country, Quadling Country, Munchkinland, Gillikin, Emerald City, whichever it may be – she was the one who had worked herself into near collapse every day to ensure their survival. The most Theodora had done was run around outside and occasionally assist with chores.

"A pretty girl like you? The visage of Helen of Troy no less, I'm sure you've got dozens of admirers."

"You don't know much about witches, do you?"

Neither did Theodora, but as a novice practitioner without a mentor it was only to be expected.

"Maybe not, but I'm told I'm a fast learner. May I have this dance Milady?"

"..."

"Now you're going to tell me that no one's ever asked you to dance before."

"No one ever has."

"Then it's high time that you learn."

He took her by the hand and guided her around the fire, a soft look adorning his features all the while.

She was uncertain whether she was annoyed by his interest in her sister or simply infuriated. Whatever the answer, she felt akin to a caged tiger shuffling its shoulders.

"Put your hand here. Your other hand here."

"You impertinent dog..." She very much wished to rip his body from her sister's and sever any limbs he dared use to touch her again.

"Nice isn't it?"

"...yes."

The kiss is what broke her control.

The glass spider-webbed beneath the pressure of her nails, but her anger left no room for acknowledgement.

She would throttle that damned man if only she were close enough.

She is well acquainted with the various desires of men and this was no exception. She was envious (and not for the first time either) of Locasta's talent for void magic. How useful it would be if only she could snatch Theodora from this so-called wizard's mangy grasp.

Even if this fool were the true wizard, would it honestly be so difficult to kill him after what she had done to the king?

In an instant the crystal ball exploded in her hands, glass shards showering her desk. She could only stare in disbelief, unable to process the destruction of her treasure and the loss of Andahan's gift.

The shock eradicated what was left of her anger and numbed every other sense, but as the adrenaline faded she became aware of the sting in her hands and the pressure in her lungs. She gasped in air, finally remembering to breathe and drew her hands from the wreckage, slowly picking out the shards that had stuck in her skin.

She ignored the blood clinging to the splinters and stepped around her desk to slide open the second top drawer, easily withdrawing the tiny vial of shimmering turquoise liquid. Removing the stopper with one hand, she extracted a needleless syringe with the other and willed her hands to still.

With a press of the bulb the formula smoothly began to fill the cavity. Once satisfied she withdrew it from the vial and replaced the stopper then drew her hand back to herself, presenting it palm up under the hovering syringe.

Three swift squeezes of the bulb produced three drops (of what would appear as light to the untrained eye) and she watched as one after the other connected with her skin in cool splashes. She felt the familiar electric-like movement of magic throughout her palm and within seconds the cuts 'sewed' themselves closed.

She stretched and curled her fingers, clenching and unclenching until she was content with the results and proceeded to repeat the process on her right hand.

Finished, she put away her tools and sighed, scanning her workspace.

She would have to clear the glass.

No, it can wait she decided, massaging her temples.

It had been a long day and she was in dire need of some sleep. What other matters remain will simply have to wait until morning.

A last glance at the ruins of her orbuculum brought on a wave of sorrow that refused to be pushed away. On instinct, she rested her left hand on her abdomen, but found the action only invited nausea and a reminder of her failures.

She turned away and slipped out the door, locking it behind her as she did the memories that echoed inside.

Her sister will be returning tomorrow, she thought firmly, making her way down the hall. Arrangements will have to be made for an escort, a carriage will have to be prepared, a physician summoned just in case and she will need to re-evaluate her schedule.

Yes, there was much to be done.

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- Lyrical-Light