A/N: Sorry I didn't say this last chapter, but I do not own anything from Wicked. Don't sue me, I'm poor and have nothing.

The next morning Isabelle woke up and cleaned the room. Her mother had always taught her to be clean and tidy in everything she did. She sat on the bed and thought of a time long ago, when she was a child. Her mother scolded her for making a mess in her room of clay and paints.

"Isabelle! Sweetheart, what has mommy told you about making messes in your room and not cleaning it up?" Her innocent eyes gazed up at her mother's. She was maybe five or six at the time. "I sorry mommy. I didn't mean to." Isabelle was swept into her mother's arms. "It's ok, let's just clean this up." They cleaned the mess up and everything was good again.

This scene in her memory made Isabelle tear up again and her eyes stung like a newly started fire. Her mother had been the only one who cared for her and loved her just because. Why my mother? Why did she have to die and leave me here alone? The thoughts drowned her mind. Suddenly, she had to occupy herself with something else. So, she went to her mother's room to go through some of her things to put away.

She walked into the room, still lightly scented with a perfume smell. Daisies. Isabelle recognized it right away as her mother's favorite smell. The bed was still made, as it was that terrible morning. She glanced around the other parts of the room until her eyes rested on the dresser. The dresser had a small chest with trinkets in them, but Isabelle was never allowed to touch it, even as a teenager. Now, she was able to, but not as her mother promised her they would together when she turned eighteen. Lifting the chest off of the dresser, she sighed. Mom, I wish you were here with me to look through this. I can't ask you about each piece and what it means like I've always wanted to since I was a little girl.

She went over to the bed and sat down on it and opened the dusty chest. Inside were trinkets and pendants with rubies and emeralds on them. Emerald, like my skin. She touched her face and looked down at her hands. As she set the pendants on the bed and moved on to looking in the chest again. Strands of pearls with diamond inlays were inside small velvet bags of all different colors. Isabelle took each piece in her hands, gingerly touching each one as if she could feel her mother through them. Again, she set each piece on the bed next to the pendants and looked in the chest again. She found a picture of herself as a baby, green and all. Mom wasn't kidding when she said I was green since birth. Isabelle smiled. On the back of the picture was her mother's writing, which said, "Isabelle Fabala Johnson, age 7 months." For a moment, she stared at her middle name. Fabala she had always thought was kind of odd. It never really bothered her before, so she shrugged it off and put the picture on the bed with the other things.

Among all the other things she found letters. One was written by her mother, intended for her birthday. She decided not to read it until then. Another was addressed to her mother, so she set that down on the bed. The last thing in the box was another letter; only it read the name Fabala on the front of it. Fabala. That's my middle name. Maybe it's meant for me from someone. She picked it up and looked at it. The letters were script of some sort, none like Isabelle had ever seen before. After staring at it for a few moments, she turned it over to look at the back of the envelope it was encased in. There was a seal on the top, like one a royal family would use.

Curiosity finally won her conscience over and she began to open the letter. From the condition of the paper, Isabelle could tell it was probably tell it was as old as she was. She removed the letter itself from the envelope and unfolded it. The writing on the letter was a more beautiful script than that of the envelope. Her name, or her middle name rather, was on the first line of the paper. This letter was definitely for her. She began to read it.

Fabala,

If you are reading this, one of two things has happened. One, you are now eighteen years old or something terrible has happened to your adoptive mother. In any case, you are entitled to know the truth of where you come from. I am Elphaba, your real mother. You were not born of the world you now live in. The land you come from is a land known as Oz. I did not want to give you up when you were born, but your likeness to me prevented me from keeping you here. Yes, your green skin color comes from me as well as your allergy to water. Your safety would have always been jeopardized. From the moment you were born, your father and I realized that you would be safer somewhere other than Oz. That is why we entrusted you to someone in the world you live in now. I loved you so much. It was hard leaving you at the doorstep of another whom you would call 'mother' and not me. It hurt me inside knowing that you may never know me, but I knew it was for the best. I remember the moment you were born, I looked into your eyes and knew you were my child. I love you as my daughter. I know that your name has probably changed from the name I gave you at birth, but to me you will always be my beautiful Fabala Nessarose, my daughter. I hope that one day I will be able to see you here in Oz, but until then know that no matter where you go in life and no matter what you do, I will always love you and think of you.

Love,

Mother

Isabelle didn't know how to react. First, she had lost the only woman she had ever called 'mom' and now she finds this letter from her birth mother that tells her that she isn't human. All of her life she knew that she was different with her green skin and all, but she would have never though that she was from another world. It overwhelmed her mind with an ocean of questions.

What were the extenuating circumstances that caused her to give me up? Where is this Land of Oz? My real name is Fabala. I have a mother and a father somewhere that love me and wanted me. How do I even find them? I need to know who I am and where I came from. I must know.

The letter also answered a lot of her questions. Her green skin was hereditary and there was someone out there who suffered with it as well as the allergy to water. Isabelle was hopeful in finding her new family, her birth mother and father. All her life she had just wanted to belong somewhere and now, this was her chance and she was going to take it. First, she had to find the Land of Oz and how to get there.

A/N: I'm sorry I haven't posted in eons. Forgive me and review nicely. ) I hope you're liking this story so far. It's about to get interesting.