The Wicked Witch of the East: Evanora's Return
[Part 2]
CHAPTER 3: WICKED WITCH
-Emerald City-
*~ Locasta ~*
It's been a long time since Locasta has sat down for breakfast in these halls. Eleven years, in fact. King Pastoria would always sit at the head of the table. Queen Gayelette – back before her death – would sit to his left with Glinda at her side and Andahan right after. As his apprentice, Locasta had sat to the right of King Pastoria for many meals even after he gained his most trusted advisor. By all rights the place that was Locasta's should have been Evanora's, but she was content to be in the chair beside Locasta, always saying the same thing when Locasta asked.
Theodora requires my constant attention.
Sitting here now, the order of their seating in the same disarray as those in attendance, Locasta cannot help but remember her last breakfast in Emerald City. It seems so long ago now.
"Any plans for the day?" the Wizard asks suddenly, breaking Locasta from her thoughts.
"I'm going to show Firefly the library today!" The little China Girl pipes up, a bright smile illuminating her features.
Firefly just glances up with a shy smile, nodding along.
"Paperwork." The winged monkey answers noncommittedly, holding up a document in evidence.
"Someone's gotta run things." Knuck huffs, but he's almost-smiling and Locasta finds it amusing.
"I'm heading back to the workshop. Still got plenty of inventing to do." The Tinker smiles, amusement in his expression as he shares a glance with the Wizard. Locasta thinks she's missed something, but what it could be she is unsure.
"Glinda?"
The blonde stills her movements, takes a moment to finish chewing and then addresses the Wizard, but her thoughts seem focused elsewhere. "I will be going to the Hall of Records today. To see if I can find anything on Zurline."
Locasta frowns. "Then perhaps I should join you."
"Tomorrow, perhaps. You should rest for today. Your injuries have yet to completely ease away."
Locasta considers the response and wonders if Glinda is not looking to find more than information on Zurline. "As you wish."
Breakfast passes swiftly with a great deal of chatter exchanged. It is not unpleasant, Locasta decides, but it is unusual and more so for lack of Glinda's participation. Occationally, Locasta finds herself glancing to the second chair of the right shoulder and shakes her head of the questions bubbling beneath the surface.
-Emerald City-
*~ Glinda ~*
Glinda's hand has a slight shake to it as she turns the key, a shaking that does not dissipate when she pushes open the doors or when she's finally standing inside with the doors closing on their own behind her.
The Hall is exactly as she remembers.
Nervousness buzzes through her with every step closer to the center where the Book of Records innocently floats atop its podium.
She's never used it, she realizes belatedly, now standing right in front of it.
Her father explained the process once. You ask a question and depending on what mood the Book is in, you may receive some form of an answer. There is the possibility of no answer at all, but if you do get one, it won't necessarily mean that you understand it. The Book shows you what it wants, as vaguely as it wants and from there it is up to you to interpret it.
Uncertain, Glinda stares, evaluating her options. Eventually she sighs and extends her hand to the pages, her wand-hand tucked to her chest. "Was Evanora the Wicked Witch?"
-Book of Records-
It takes a moment for Glinda to get her bearings, blinking slowly at the dark walls around her and the dim lighting. It almost reminds her of the dungeon, but she shakes that thought from her mind.
"Evanora dear," Glinda jumps as much at the name as the sudden interruption, "will you take this down to the kitchens please?"
A basket is passed on from a shadow on the bed to another standing at its side.
"Yes, Mother." Speaking seems to illuminate her somewhat and Glinda is surprised by how young the witch is. She is dressed simply and her hair is shorter than Glinda has ever seen it with a blue bruise on her left cheek and bandages around her hands.
She's taller than Firefly, but she still looks like a child despite her mannerisms. How old is she exactly?
"Don't open it, alright? I want to surprise your Father."
"I'll be careful."
Glinda follows her through the winding halls and down two flights of stairs. They stop in front of a door and Evanora knocks once before entering, heaving the basket onto the nearest counter.
"You again? Out of my kitchen brat!"
A pot comes swinging towards Glinda and she flinches instinctively, but it blows right through her and soars over Evanora who stands perfectly still.
"This is for Father."
"Hmph! The Master's food is already prepared. Take it out of my kitchen!"
"It's from Mother."
There is a moment's silence followed by a heavy sigh.
"Get out little Miss. The Master's to arrive back any minute."
"Understood."
Continuing to follow the child, Glinda trails her to a lounge lined with shining bottles. At first she thinks they may be potions, but leaning closer to get a better look causes her too wrinkle her nose, the smell of alcohol permeating the air.
There's a crash that makes her jump and turning around, she sees a familiar wizard strutting into the lounge, red-faced and sneering.
"Welcome home, Father." Evanora executes a perfect curtsey, the likes of which would have made a younger Glinda seethe with envy.
The moment she rises, Evanora is backhanded and stumbles. Glinda stares, caught off-guard and horrorstricken.
"Where's Vaneela?"
"Mother has ordered dinner prepared for you." Evanora rights herself, standing up straight. "If it pleases you Father, I shall escort you to the dining hall."
In a move too abrupt for Glinda to respond, Orison is standing in front of Evanora, both hands closed around her throat and smoldering. The smell of burning flesh makes Glinda ill and Evanora's scream is a haunting sound.
"Answer me, you stupid girl."
Evanora is released and falls to her knees, tears in her eyes and bandaged fingers falling just shy of touching her throat.
"You must be hungry." Evanora persists, coming to a stand. "Why not make a selection of something to drink? I shall serve it with your meal, Father."
"Where is your damned mother?" His hands begin to smoke, his skin glowing magma-red.
Evanora's features contort in fear. She flinches, but she does not move. "She should be down shortly. The lack of servants has made it difficult to properly dress in time for your arrival, my lord."
"Useless woman. Fine. Grab a bottle of rum and follow me. Drop it, you'll get the Maiden."
"Yes, Sir."
-Book of Records-
Glinda does not have time to prepare before being pulled to a different page in a jerking motion that leaves her lightheaded and disorientated. The Book does not wait for her.
"So pretty! I want it!"
"No. Now come along, Theodora."
"But I want it!"
They're in a market, Glinda eventually realizes, and Evanora – now far closer to the age at which she met her – is walking with a basket and a small Theodora. Thinking back, Glinda remembers that Theodora was four when the pair first arrived in Emerald City. This must be some time before that.
"We can't afford trinkets and we certainly don't need something we can't use."
"But Swistar!"
"Enough, Theodora. My word is final."
That should have been the end of it. It usually was, and has been for as long as Glinda can recall, but apparently this was before Theodora felt cowed by Evanora's words.
"No! I want it!"
Fire suddenly erupts around Theodora, spreading outward. People scream in fear with the occasional call of 'witch' and Glinda shivers each time a figure rushes through her, some away and some toward. She moves closer, just in time to catch Evanora's horrified expression.
"By the Ancients…"
Theodora, seeing the fire, begins to panic.
"Swistar?"
"There's the witch!"
Around them, people are closing in with pitchforks with one woman pushing her way to the front with a bucket and exclamations of the men being idiots and to help the poor child. No sooner did water leave the bucket, dousing the fire, did Theodora begin screaming with burns forming in her skin.
"The witch must of cursed her!"
"Get the witch!"
It was then that Glinda realizes with a start that the people thought Evanora had set Theodora on fire.
The basket drops from Evanora's arm in her rush to pick up her much younger sister, to shield her from the mod.
Whatever happened after, Glinda does not know because the Book rips her from the vision and deposits her right into the next.
-Book of Records-
"Who are you?"
"Someone with the strength you seek."
A shimmer catches her eye and suddenly Glinda is met with a bright green apple, the hand extended just off to her side. The speaker is cast in shadow, though a woman by the sound of voice, Glinda cannot seem to make out any defining trait. Not even the color of her clothing.
"An apple?"
Evanora sounds dubious and does not make a move to take it. They are in a field, Glinda notes, and Evanora seems worse for wear, but she recognizes the battle dress the woman wears and feels her throat dry up.
This was the battle against Orison. The last time Evanora saved the king.
"An Apple of Power."
"Not interested."
"Oh? So you are content with how the ministers treat you? Content with your birthright being stripped? Content with the murder of those closest to you?"
Glinda flinches at the reminder.
"You shall find I am not so easily swayed by temptation, nor wicked witches lurking in the shadows."
The woman draws back her hand.
"You'll change your mind."
"Unlikely."
"You will. When the answers you seek are nowhere to be found, come to the East. I'll be waiting."
-Emerald City-
*~ Oscar ~*
"Glinda has been away for some time. Do you think she is having difficulty?"
"It's possible," Locasta sighs, motioning Firefly to the table. "Magic Tomes are a frustrating and often temperamental artefact. Valuable, but near useless."
He blinks, processing. "Then why keep it?"
Locasta shrugs. "Near useless. Not pointless."
"How was the library, girls?" He decides to ask instead.
"I've never seen so many interesting books!" Firefly exclaims, lighting up like a lantern.
Conversation easily flows after that with everyone present chiming in at one point or another. A peaceful lunch for the most part. They are halfway finished when the doors open, Glinda striding in with a look in her eyes Oz has not seen before. She smiles at the girls, nods to the rest of them and sits down heavily with a half-hearted thanks on her lips when a nearby servant sets down a plate for her.
"Are you alright?"
"It's just a headache." She waves off, slowly catching up with the conversation and meal.
Once the girls and Finley have run off, leaving only himself and the two witches, Locasta turns to Glinda with narrowed eyes and a stern expression. It conveyed without words her desire for Glinda to speak the truth and Oz shares the sentiment, turning to the blonde witch as well.
"I will speak with you both about it tonight. Until then, I wish to be left alone." Glinda rises and departs without further ado, the door closing quietly behind her.
"What do you think she found?"
Locasta shakes her head, standing. "A contradiction to her beliefs."
With that the last of the witches left as well, leaving Oz alone in the dining hall with an empty plate in front of him.
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Until next time.
– L.L.