A Mirror's Reflection
"I saw in a book once a drawing of a lake monster, or a sea monster if you believe in oceans (…)
I may not be sure if monsters exist, but I'd rather live my life in doubt than be persuaded by a real experience."
-Wicked, p. 413
Dr. Dillamond's death had been a highly publicized affair. The shocking details of his untimely demise, while kept purposefully vague in the newspapers, had aroused the interest of many both in and out of high scholastic circles. It could be said that the academia world felt the loss more keenly than others, where the old Goat was still revered as one of the most distinguished intellectuals in the biological field. Many of his earlier dissertations on sentient creatures were just as controversial today as they were the twenty-odd years ago they were first published. For all of the passionate anger and heated debate his ideas had merited, he was still one of the most respected Animals in Oz.
It both pleased and saddened Elphaba, who had been affected by his death in a personal and gruesome way. More than a mentor, he had been her friend, and his work had inspired a passion in her that nothing else in her life had done before. To have him silenced at one of the most critical stages of his research was a sickening kind of irony, even if she had conceded long ago that the world was a picture of such farces. It was both awing and disturbing to consider how a single life, or a single death, could so profoundly change her future.
But Elphaba had no intention of abandoning his work. The fervent response to Dillamond's death proved that there were still people who were willing to listen- maybe even willing to fight. If the Goat's murder (and it was murder, no matter what the fools were saying) was the means of calling those with power and influence into action, there could be some hope and meaning found in an otherwise horrific tragedy.
All she needed to do was fit the pieces of Dillamond's genetic puzzle together; a task that seemed more daunting the deeper his theories went. Still, the thought of change- of scientific and social revolution- spurred her on. The Goat was lost to her, but his death would not be in vain.
Another end that we justify by hideous means?
Or a small consolation to remind us that everything in this world, whether good or evil, happens for a reason?
Elphaba clenched her jaw as the words of Crope and Tibbett came unbidden to her mind. If she was positively resolute over anything, it was that Boq and the others would have no part in future plans with Dillamond's research. Things were far too dangerous now, and Elphaba wasn't prepared to lose any more of the people she loved. So when she met Boq at the café in Railway Square for a quick hello, she was resigned that all talk of Dr. Dillamond would not be up for discussion.
"I can't stay," she said abrasively, even if it was meant as an apology. "It looks like rain this afternoon and I don't want to be stuck here during the downpour."
"Hello to you too, Elphie," he smirked, and pushed a cup of mineral tea in front of her. "I did see the storm clouds outside, so I took the liberty of ordering for you as I guessed you wouldn't be staying. Hope you don't mind."
"Thank you," she said, "how very kind."
Boq leaned back in his chair. "Now, tell me you're as thrilled as I am that we'll be sharing a lecture together, and life sciences at that! We can fight and toss over every issue, write obscenities in Avaric's notebooks, and you'll let me copy your notes when I don't feel inclined to take them. How's that for co-education?"
"Pathetically accurate," she chuckled, "though it won't seem right to be meeting up without all of the usual disguise and camouflage."
"A nice change of pace, though," he continued, crumbling a wafer into his cup.
"Especially for the gents, I'd wager. I look forward to seeing Avaric try and expound on Reighling's Theorem while some frilly tart is sporting cleavage two seats in front of him."
Boq laughed. "It'll be an adjustment all right, but not just because of the ladies. Our new professor, Dr. Nikidik, is coming up from Tanhadron's College under a recommendation from Professor Hain. Nikidik distinguished himself a few years back with some discoveries he made in his exploration of organic compounds. I wonder how closely he intends to follow Dillamond's core curriculum, or if he'd be at all interested in our research-"
"That remains to be seen," said Elphaba, cutting him off. "And why fret about science professors when you have more important matters to worry about- my roommate being one of them?" It was an underhanded move on Elphaba's part to mention her, but Glinda was the quickest, easiest way of distracting Boq when she needed him distracted.
As always, it proved to be successful.
"Oh?" he said, sitting up straighter. "Is she well? Has she been improving? Does she ever ask for me?"
"I think that's a 'no' on all accounts," she replied, more serious than sarcastic.
Boq sighed and sadly shook his head. "I don't understand what's become of her, Elphie. She's so… empty somehow. So silent and withdrawn. When I see her nowadays, it's like I'm looking into the eyes of a stranger. I mean, do you really think it's possible that Dr. Dillamond's death could have affected Galinda so deeply?"
"It's Glinda now," said Elphaba, studying her tea leaves. "Surprisingly, she's taken with the name. And if anything is bothering her at present, it's her Ama. Ever since the old woman was stricken with brain fever, Glinda's become increasingly detached. Not just from her social circle either- it's like she's even becoming detached from herself. I can't account for it, though I'd hoped that a little time and distance would help to facilitate her recovery."
"But that's just it!" he cried. "Galinda and Glinda! They're two completely different people! Where is the haughty and maddening creature I fell in love with? I can't make heads or tails of it!" He groaned in frustration, and ran his fingers through his hair.
"You're starting to shriek like the salty, hen-pecked fishwives in Qhoyre," she said with a smirk. "She's the same person she ever was, Boq, only more affable and less self-absorbed. Do you honestly mean to tell me that you preferred her when she looked at you with barely concealed irritation and occasionally condescended to speak to you once in a blue moon?"
"I preferred her when we were on holiday," he muttered, "and I had the spectacular privilege of kissing her."
Elphaba frowned. "Well if you want answers, go and ask her yourself. She's as liable to confide in you as she is to me, provided you don't start spouting more poetry at her." She pulled out her coin purse and dropped a few on the table, more than what the tea was worth.
"Hey now, I told you I was buying!" he said, and shoved them back at her.
"Then buy yourself a clue. Or at least a better tie."
He stood up with her as she gathered her bag and cloak. "Will we be meeting up again soon?" he asked. "Crope and Tibbett wanted to do something Sunday-ish."
"I can meet with you again next week but probably not before," she said, buttoning up her jacket.
"Well, you will promise to speak to Glinda for me, won't you?" He gave her his best pleading look.
"I promise not to remind her of what a love-sick, hopeless little fool you are," she said, and tossed him a short wave before exiting into the streets.
Her meeting with Boq turned out to be more displeasing than she had anticipated, even if he was as silly and charming as he always was. Glinda was a recurring subject between them, whether she liked it or not, but there was something very unsatisfying in their discussion this time around. She credited it to the flavorless tea, or the unpleasant visual of her friends sharing romantic dalliances together at Lake Chorge.
But the truth of the matter was that Elphaba was just as worried about Glinda as Boq was. There had been so many changes in her in so short a period of time, and they appeared to be far more harmful to her than they were beneficial. Their peers might have noticed a marked transformation in Glinda's demeanor, but none of them had any idea just how significantly she was emotionally deteriorating. It was also more than just Ama Clutch's illness that was so ruinously affecting her. There was something more; the same thing that kept Glinda up at night when Elphaba would wake to hear her crying.
Whatever the case, Glinda had refused to visit Ama Clutch at the infirmary again, and Elphaba didn't try to push the subject with her. After all, Elphaba wasn't a mind reader, and if Glinda was insisting on drowning herself in despair, well, what was she to do about it?
By the time she returned to campus and found her way back to the student hall, a light rain had already begun. She passed through the oak doors and into the lounge, shaking off her umbrella and studiously ignoring a small group of first years who whispered and giggled as she passed by. Coming here had been more of an afterthought as the library was starting to feel a bit too confining these days. It was a fortuitous decision nonetheless, given that the rain didn't look like it would be letting up anytime soon.
"Miss Elphaba!" she heard. "Oh Miss Elphaba! Over here!"
Elphaba cringed. She glanced over to the corner of the room where Pfannee was waving at her with barely suppressed enthusiasm. Shenshen, Glinda, and Milla were there also, and each looked just as eager for Elphaba to join them. She wasn't particularly inclined to humor the girls today, as humor was undoubtedly what they were seeking. But when she noticed Glinda staring at her with that impossible look of hopeful expectation, there was little else that she could do but wander over.
"What's this, then?" said Elphaba. "Have I been summoned to provide an eloquent contrast to that circus tent of a gown you're wearing?"
Pfannee actually laughed at the comment, obviously in too good a mood to take offence.
"It's not red enough for that!" she giggled. "Now do stop being so awful, Miss Elphaba, and join us for a while. You can't have anything better to do at this hour of the day, and we're dying to know more about your upcoming life science lectures."
Elphaba raised an eyebrow. "You can't be serious."
"We've heard you're taking the class with the boys from Briscoe Hall," said Milla, coyly.
"Boq and Avaric all at once. Can you imagine?" added Shenshen, and the three of them laughed and waved their fans more excitedly.
"Amazing," said Elphaba with mild incredulity. "Just when I think I've pinpointed the absolute depths of girlish idiocy any of you are capable of, you inevitably find a way of surprising me."
"Oh come, Miss Elphaba, indulge us this once," said Shenshen. "We're stuck with a couple of simpletons from Three Queens for languages, and you know how boorish they can be."
"Besides," said Pfannee, "your roomie is sulking again, and she could do with a little cheering. Lurline only knows we've done our best to make her more agreeable, but she's determined to be difficult."
"Yes… tell her all about your meeting with Boq this afternoon. I'm sure that will do the trick," said Shenshen, and the two chortled at their suggestiveness. Milla's smile, however, flickered as she glanced at her friends, clearly not quite as amused as they were.
Elphaba looked at Glinda again, who appeared to be trapped between Pfannee and Shenshen. She smiled at Elphaba a little tightly, but it was clear that she wasn't half as pleased with their choice of conversation. Her complexion was a little paler today, making her eyes an even more solemn, startling blue.
Elphaba sighed, finally sitting down in the nearest chair. Oz, but she hated how her roommate was getting to her lately.
"That's better," said Pfannee. "Now— Shenshen and Milla have proposed that we invite the boys on an outing this weekend at the market near Railway Square. Lunch at the Rose Gardens, perhaps, or a play at the musical hall."
"The weather is set to be fine," added Shenshen, "and I'm sure the boys will be game for it."
"Then invite the whole of Briscoe Hall and make simpering love to each of them," said Elphaba impatiently. "What do you need me for?"
"Why, to deliver the invite, you idiot!" cried Pfannee. "Aren't you chummy with them?"
"With Boq and the Three Queens dandies at least," added Shenshen, "but I'm sure once you mention we'll be attending, Master Avaric will be just as happy to join the party."
"You can deal with the bastards yourselves," said Elphaba. "I don't have time to be arranging the sordid business of your love lives."
"But you should be welcome too, Elphaba," said Milla earnestly, obviously hoping to counter Shenshen and Pfannee's poor manners. "They have new stalls out for the season, and I know Glinda has already counted on you being there. She's said as much herself."
"Ah, planning an excursion, are we? How nice," said a smooth, oiled voice behind them. Everyone looked up in shock to find Madame Morrible standing beside their table, seeming to appear out of nowhere. She was smiling in a very pinched and disdainful sort of way at them, and the crimson gown she wore, cut just below the neckline, made her look more menacing and cutthroat than ever. Silence enveloped the table as Morrible stepped closer, standing just behind Glinda's chair to better tower over them. Glinda, who was now so pale as to appear translucent, refused to look at her.
"Good afternoon ladies, glad to see we're all being sociable today. Miss Elphaba, how fortunate to find you here- I've been looking for you for the last hour and a half. Oh, you needn't bother with excuses. We both know that you've been making liberal use of the campus grounds without a chaperone for weeks."
Elphaba turned a darker shade of green. The other girls stared at each other in mild incredulity. Glinda remained focused on the table top.
"No chaperone, girls. No one to watch you and make sure you're behaving," said Morrible as she wrapped her long, manicured fingers around Glinda's shoulders. It was meant to look congenial, perhaps, but it more closely resembled a predator grasping its prey. "Dear, oh dear," she continued soberly, "I've been far too lenient with the pair of you, I can see that now. I was willing to indulge this for a time, out of consideration for your sick minder, but I'm afraid, girls, that this can't continue. You understand where I'm coming from, don't you?"
She squeezed Glinda's shoulders, gently bunching the white material of the dress-sleeves in her claw-like hands.
Elphaba impulsively clenched her fists.
"What about the common dormitories, hmmm?" said Morrible sweetly, leaning down next to Glinda. "I'm sure you and Miss Elphie would get along quite well with the other girls there. It would be a wonderful opportunity for you both to get to know some of our foreign students- have a little change of scenery. What a superb way to broaden your social circle, don't you agree?"
For a moment, it seemed as though Glinda hadn't heard the words at all. She was practically a statue; rendered in pallid marble, blank and unmoving. Morrible's fingers tightened on her shoulders. Then, Glinda's head raised a little, and she nodded almost imperceptibly, either unwilling or unable to use her voice. The smirk on Morrible's face grew wider still. Milla, Pfannee, and Shenshen looked at their friend in absolute, horrified shock.
But Elphaba kept her gaze on Morrible, hating the way her fingers curled over Glinda's shoulders in such a sinister, predatory fashion. She warred with herself on how to act, caught between her better judgment and the anger she was constantly struggling to suppress. The voice of sense and reason told her to let Morrible do whatever she wanted with them; whether Elphaba had a bed in the dorms or the stables was irrelevant to her. But the stubborn, irrational part of her could only concentrate on one thing, and it was maddeningly and despondently blonde.
Inevitably (and infuriatingly) it was a short battle.
When Morrible finally took leave of them, allowing the girls to shriek and blather about the whole embarrassing exchange, Elphaba stood up and followed her. Much as she hated the woman, and as much as she wasn't in the habit of asking anyone for anything, she was determined to amend this new change of circumstances by requesting permission for an alternative to their minder situation. One that was as outrageous as it was unpleasant.
It wasn't the first time that Elphaba bemoaned Glinda's sudden and inexplicable influence over her. Nor would it be the last.
Glinda was exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally.
The lecturer had been rattling on for the last thirty minutes about the economic structure of the Glikkus near the turn of the century, and calling him "dull" would have been charitable. History had never been the most intriguing subject to her, at least on a social or political level, but trying to stay focused on a single word Professor Syft was saying was asking for the impossible.
"The larger, more cultivated settlements were dispersed near the Canals," he droned on, "even though mining was only a superficial trade at the time. Commerce with Munchkinland was strained, however, as there were still border disputes in Upper Applerue…"
Glinda ran a hand over her weary eyes.
Her sleeping patterns had been very erratic for the past few weeks, leaving her more agitated than rested upon waking. The thoughts that constantly plagued her conscience were less than welcome, adding to her intense nervousness and depression. More and more she was starting to feel like a stranger in her own skin, even if her friends couldn't see it.
Elphaba could, though. Elphie noticed everything.
"…for other neighboring districts that were consequently starving from the Fallows blight of the previous year…"
Glinda stifled another yawn.
Dear Elphaba. How changed their friendship had become. While Glinda was aware that she was distancing herself from the others, curiously, she was becoming more drawn to her green companion. Perhaps it was because Elphaba was the only thing that could inspire confidence in Glinda anymore. Or maybe she was now finally discovering just how fascinating and thoughtful a person Elphaba really was. What was it that Ama Clutch had said to her the day she and Elphaba met?
"Oh, are you bothered by the green? Well it might do you some good, if you let it. If you let it…"
And Glinda had. Now she wished she had only made the effort sooner. Was this what a genuine friendship felt like? It had been so long since she'd felt anything similar. Elphaba's sarcasm was almost becoming charming. The way she twirled a finger through her hair while reading was also rather endearing. And her skin was so… green. So utterly, strikingly green; not unlike her Pertha Hills back home.
"…before then. Blood for blood was their first intention…"
She rested her head in her arms.
Thoughts of faraway places drifted into her mind. The endless hills beyond Frottica, where her father would take the family on picnics during Highsummer. The bridge of wood spanning over the water of the Bedleaves fishing pond, covered in vines and plum lilies. The scent of a heavy summer rain that lingered so often in the air, mingling with the sweet perfume of the pearlfruit blossoms.
It was as if she were a child again; running across the pasture, leaping over sties and ducking under fences with the soft sounds of cattle lowing in the fields. The wind would rush through her hair as she made off down the hill, and it always made her feel like she was flying. She was headed for the river that curved around the sallowwood trees on the far side of the meadow. Sprinting as fast as she could, she tripped and laughed gaily as the small pink ribbon tied at her wrist fluttered in the breeze.
And when she finally caught sight of the tall tree, he was already there…
…Waiting for her.
Hair the color of hazelnut; eyes that were grey and beautiful. The blush on his cheeks was as pink as the flowers that grew on the downs of her family's estate. But most of all, he wore the same bright mischievous smile that he always did- the very thing that had simultaneously vexed and charmed her since the first day they'd met.
Temen. The sweetest boy in all of Frottica; a child no older than six or seven.
They clasped hands together, and took off at a run. They must not dawdle, or her Ama would catch them, so they raced down the river and into the woods, giggling as they chased each other, careless of where they went.
Everything was exactly how she remembered it. The way they hid behind the trees in their games of hide and seek. The small brook they leapt over while trying to catch the speckled toads that hopped around the water. The handful of wildflowers that Temen would pick for her, and the blush he would get when she kissed his cheek to say thank you. They were her dearest memories.
They were her childhood.
Soon they were running again, and Glinda was determined that she was going to catch up to him this time. But the woods were growing thicker here, and something in Glinda forced her to stop. To hesitate. Why did this place feel so familiar to her, even though it looked so foreign?
A warning rang in her heart and head, but the sounds were too confusing.
It was then that Glinda suddenly noticed that Temen was nowhere to be found. She searched through the trees, wondering where he'd gone, but she couldn't find any sight of him. It was as if he'd vanished somehow.
Then, several yards in the distance, he finally reappeared, standing beneath an arching willow that bent over a hidden trail. He held out his hand to her, bidding that she follow him, but a grim, terrified realization came over her when she discovered where he was heading.
No. Not down there. Anywhere but there.
Come back!
Glinda tried to call to him, but she had no voice. There was no sound at all in this place; just the hollow echo of her mind. She tried to take a step forward, but the trees and brush had inexplicably barred her path. She wanted to move, to motion him back, but her arms and legs were weighted. Useless.
Temen… she mouthed. Don't go there!
Suddenly, from out of the depths of the woods, a figure slowly emerged. Dark all over with eyes like heated coals, it looked at Glinda with frightening recognition, and Glinda felt her heart constrict. It was the Woman-the same cadaverous creature that had haunted Glinda's dreams. Her hair was wild, and her jaw hung slack in a gruesome, sickening smile. Temen stood with his back to her, failing to notice her approach.
Run! she wanted to scream. Run! Can't you hear her? She's behind you! She's coming!
The boy smiled, oblivious to her, and Glinda struggled desperately to move. Where was her voice? Oh why couldn't she find her voice?
A withered arm reached out, slowly reaching for Temen.
Hear me! her mind was screaming. Run, Temen! RUN!
The Woman turned her wrist.
Very delicately, she ran the sharp knobs of her fingers down the young boy's cheek.
His skin began to smolder; to char and blister and burn. His whole body seemed to ignite then. Every inch of him was quickly engulfed in flames.
His eyes rolled into the back of his skull, and his lips crinkled and bled until they completely burned away. The hair on his head shriveled to small, grayish embers, and his ears melted into his scorched and blackened flesh. His mouth opened wide, forming a wordless scream, and the sinews in his hands and arms cracked as he reached out for her. The smell of it filled her nostrils, and it made her want to retch.
She covered her eyes and fell to the ground; willing the sickening vision from her mind as hot tears stained her cheeks. Then, Glinda heard the Woman's voice; the same horrific voice from her nightmares.
Only one survives, my beautiful, my dear… but the other one… the other one…
"No!" she finally screamed with every last ounce of energy she had, forcing her eyes open.
Bright lights and stifled laughter slammed abruptly into her senses. The cold, flat surface of her desk was pressed against her cheek, and her hands were gripping the corners so tightly, the blood was drained from her fingers.
She slowly raised her head, bewildered and horror-stricken.
She was in her history class. And all eyes were upon her.
"Miss Galinda, or Glinda if you insist," said Professor Syft irately, "if you're disinclined to pay attention to the lecture or feel the need to disrupt with your hysterics, you are welcome to leave as soon as it's convenient."
Glinda stared at him, as confused as she was panicked. She wordlessly glanced at the faces surrounding her, each of them a mixture of shock and amusement. A wave of intense nausea surfaced with her humiliation, and before Professor Syft could say another word, she bolted for the door as fast as she could.
She stumbled into the corridor. Her stomach churned as she pictured the scene again; the smoldering flesh, the blackened teeth, and his fingers twisting in pain. Even now, she could smell the scent of him burning. Glinda was going to be sick.
The lavatories were just up the hall. She hurriedly passed by a few faculty members and some students, one hand clutched to her mouth and the other over her stomach. She staggered into the restroom and over to the commode, worried that the contents of her stomach would spill at any minute. She was breathing hard, and the nausea that swept over her was bringing on the heat of a fever.
Breathe, she told herself. Breathe, Glinda. It was just a dream…it was just a dream …get it out of your mind…
Her fingers were clenched in small fists against her stomach. She didn't care that she was kneeling on the filthy floor of the girls' lavatory, looking every bit like the wretched mess of a person she was becoming. All she wanted was to be free of these nightmares. All she wanted was to forget.
Slowly, slowly, her breathing settled. The sickness that threatened to spill over was subdued. The pain in her head and her stomach had faded into a dull throb, but she was confident that the worst was over.
After a few moments, she placed a hand against the wall and brought herself unsteadily up to her feet. Her nerves protested at the effort, but she knew it wouldn't do to be caught in here in such a state. Her skin was still flushed and warm, so she stepped over to the sink and turned the faucet on. The water pooled in the basin, and she plunged her hands in and brought it up to her face.
The freezing water was a welcome shock to her over-heated skin, and it helped her to better focus; to clear her fevered mind. Rubbing cold fingers into the back of her neck, Glinda let out a deep breath as she glanced back up at her reflection in the mirror. Her vision was blurred for a brief moment; the last few drops of water were trickling down her lashes.
But soon, all too soon, everything became clear.
Her tired features. The stalls in back. And a small young boy with chestnut hair standing behind her; smiling without joy, ethereal but real.
Glinda's blood turned to ice. She pivoted around in a split-second, aghast at the thought of finding him behind her.
But the space there was empty. No sign of life was visible. If anyone had been standing there, they had vanished completely.
She looked at the mirror again, studying its surface before turning back around. No one; and yet she had been so sure—no—so certain that someone had been standing behind her.
"Are you there?" she whispered.
Her words echoed across the room in her timid, fearful voice. Her eyes frantically searched the row of empty stalls, but no sign of anyone, living or dead, could be found.
She pressed a hand against her forehead, and felt tears prick the corners of her eyes.
"See here," she cried, "am I going mad?"
But there was no one there to respond to her. There was nothing but the silence.
"Leave me alone," she whispered, breathing deeply. "Whoever you are, whatever you're doing, leave me alone, do you understand! Leave… me… alone!"
The door to the room swung open, and a pair of girls entered. Their noisy chattering stopped when they caught sight of Glinda, looking disheveled and absolutely insane. They exchanged looks with one another, and nervously walked back out.
Glinda watched them leave, too troubled and unnerved to feel the mortification she rightly should have. What was happening to her? The dreams were starting to become visions. Hallucinations. Nightmares blurring from one reality to the next.
She sank down to the floor, pulling her legs tightly against her chest while tucking her chin between her knees.
Was she really starting to lose her mind?
She glanced at the mirror again.
It was cracked.