The World As We Know It

by elphabaoftheopera

When their long-awaited night of passion results in an unplanned pregnancy, Elphaba and Fiyero must navigate the consequences of the new world they've created. Years later, when Liir has questions about his past that even his Auntie Glinda won't answer, a startling discovery sets him on a journey that alters everything he once knew. Canon-Divergent. AU. Fiyeraba (& Gliyeraba).

5. Liir's Keeper

CHAPTER FIVE: LIIR'S KEEPER

Liir got the feeling that he was being watched.

This was nothing new.

For as long as he could remember, in times like these, he got the strong sense that he was being followed. This night was no different. Every step he took on the cobblestone path towards the Emerald Palace was being shadowed by an unseen other. He could feel it. He could feel her.

His keeper.

People usually talked about being watched like it was a bad thing, but not Liir. Not by his keeper, at least. Whenever he felt them, Liir felt protected. As if an invisible guardian was looking out for him.

"Liir!" a classmate called.

"Yes?" Liir asked, passing through an archway at his old boarding school.

"Little Liiry! He's so teary—"

"We're going to see that big, beautiful balloon. Doesn't that sound grand?"

Glinda's hand was in Liir's as they entered the Hall of Wickedness. Liir felt his keeper behind his right shoulder. He turned to look behind him, but nobody was there.

"It's cruel."

Liir turned back to look at the Wicked Witch statue high above his head.

"It's tall…" Liir mumbled.

"Or perhaps you're just small," Glinda said. "So very, very small."

The sound of cracking glass. Liir's body tensed as the statue, alive and larger than life, turned towards him. The Witch smiled at Liir, revealing tooth after pointy tooth as her lips curved in a nasty grin. Liir froze with panic as she took a towering step towards him.

"You're me," The Witch sneered, extending a clawed hand towards him. "You're just like me."

"GLINDA?!" Liir shrieked.

"Now, now Liir. You're all grown up now," Glinda sighed, a lit birthday cake in her hands. "You can't rely on me forever."

The Witch's broom came hurtling down towards him and Liir covered his face in his arms. His chest heaved as he waited for the blow…but nothing came.

Liir slowly lifted his head and found that he was safe in his bedroom at the palace.

"Oh, thank Oz…" he muttered. "It was only a dream."

He took a few weary steps towards his window and opened the drapes to let in the lights of the city. As he did he felt a small tingle run up his spine. If he was awake…then how come he could still feel her?

His keeper.

Liir slowly turned and shivered as he noticed the silhouetted frame of a feminine figure now standing in the unlit corner of his room. Though he could not make out any features, he could tell that she was tall.

"Who are you?" Liir asked his keeper, his voice calm and curious. "Why have you been following me?"

A quiet, surprised gasp came from Liir's keeper in the corner. Her hand sharply moved as if she were checking her wrist before her gaze tilted back to look forward.

Then Liir watched as she, with apparent hesitation, stretched her hand towards him.

Astonished but unafraid, Liir took a step forward and stretched his hand towards hers as well. However, just before their fingers could touch, a sliver of light fell upon his keeper's hand.

Liir froze when he looked upon it, trying to convince himself that it was a trick of the light. After all, The Emerald City had a way of casting everything in the hue of its name. Or perhaps his dream of The Witch statue was too fresh in his mind! His nightmare was simply projecting onto reality. Whatever the case may be, he could not trust his eyes. He could not truly be seeing what he was seeing.

"Liir?" his keeper whispered.

Liir trembled.

"Y-yes?"

She stepped into the light, and as she did, Liir realized with terror that what he'd seen had been no trick.

"You…" she said, an expression of shock etched upon her plainly green face. "You can see me?"

Liir bolted upright in bed, soaked with sweat. His eyes darted to where he'd just been standing—or dreamed he'd been standing—half expecting to see a green woman at the foot of his bed.

"No…it wasn't real," Liir mumbled to himself, refusing to believe that the person he saw was truly the keeper he'd felt all these years. "That wasn't really her."

For all his life Liir had never seen his keeper, he'd only felt her. Sensed her. Now he gripped his hair in agitation, trying to rid the image of her from his head. How could someone who had brought such comfort to him be…be…

Spiraling, Liir kicked himself out of his sheets and stood. It was past the thirteenth hour but he knew he couldn't get back to sleep if he tried. He needed to talk to Glinda. Throwing his robe over his nightclothes, Liir left his room and padded barefoot down the cold marble hallway of their wing. He knocked on Glinda's door and called for her, but there was no answer. When he peeked inside the lights in her apartment were out.

It was unusual for Glinda to work so late, but Liir decided to check her office anyway. He descended a few flights to her business wing but was stopped by two towering sentries who were posted outside of it.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where do you think you're going, small fry?" the first sentry stopped Liir. "Authorized palace personnel only beyond this point."

"Shut up, you moron. Don't you know who that is?" the second sentry gestured to Liir.

Liir nodded. "I'm—"

"Glinda's orphan," the sentry sighed over him. "Yeah, I know. Don't mind him, he's new."

"Wait—that's Glinda's orphan?" the first sentry guffawed. "I was expecting some kind of chimney sweep kid."

Liir felt the back of his neck burn and tried to stand up a little straighter.

"Don't look at me," the second sentry shrugged, carrying on with the conversation as if Liir were not there. "Glinda says he can go anywhere he wants."

"Damn, wish I could go anywhere I wanted. Do you think Glinda would adopt me too?" the first sentry jested. "I can't be much older than this son of a bitch."

"May I go through now?" Liir asked.

He tried to sound assertive but failed to muster much grit.

"Rules are rules," the first sentry shrugged, stepping aside for him to pass. "Give your fairy godmother our best."

Liir scurried past them and was relieved to hear Glinda's voice down the hall. However, as he got closer, he hung back outside of her cracked office door upon realizing that she was in the middle of an apparent argument.

"I don't appreciate you keeping me up to debate a matter I've already made myself very clear on!"

Liir blanched. He had rarely, if ever, heard Glinda use such a tone.

"Nobody commends your charity more than I, your Goodness," one of her advisors replied. "But hasn't this gone on long enough?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"It's one thing to support the orphanage system in general—"

"Which I do."

"Yes, yes. But to go to such lengths for one orphan? People have applauded your goodness towards him in the past, your Goodness, but lately the public opinion surrounding him has begun to…shift."

"Have I not always provided for Liir's expenses out of my own pocketbook?"

"Well, yes—"

"And has my time with him ever negatively impacted my Ozly duties?"

"Of course not—"

"Well then! If my relationship with Liir isn't costing Oz a thing and isn't doing a bit of harm then pardon me but…I fail to see why the public should have any opinion towards him at all!"

"Your Goodness, the incident at the museum has raised some eyebrows—"

"The disturberance today had nothing to do with him!" Glinda said sharply. "What a wicked accusation!"

"Don't throw around that word so flagrantly!"

"I am Glinda the Good, I can use whatever terms I want!"

"He touched priceless artifacts—dangerous artifacts! For all we know the broom may have cursed him or—or infected him! That very well could have caused the stir."

"Maybe rounding up those artifacts to tastelessly pick at the past is what caused the commotion. I mean, really—photo ops with the house? 'I'M MELTING' fans? For such a dark stain on Ozian history people sure are getting their laughs out of it."

"It's good for people to celebrate our prosperity."

Glinda let out a long, weary sigh.

"Do you remember where you were on Melting Day?" Glinda asked her advisor. "The first one. The real one."

"Of course. Everyone remembers where they were when they heard the news."

"Well, I remember too. I remember better than most, in fact. I remember the fireworks, the cheers…and I also remember a tiny newborn baby. A poor little child left lonely on a day that many revere as one of the most joyous of their lives," Glinda said. "Tell me. What would you have done in my shoes? If there had been a child without a friend in Oz in your care?"

"What would I do if I came across a discarded child? Why—I would have done what anyone would have done,," the advisor said. "I would have turned him into the Cloister of Saint Glinda for safekeeping, just as you so admirably did."

Liir frowned in confusion. Discarded? Cloister?

"But Your Goodness," the advisor continued. "Nobody would have faulted you for leaving it at that!"

"I suppose that's what sets me apart from the rest then, isn't it?" Glinda said. "To go above and beyond the call of goodness. Liir is my ward. I have, as I have always had, a vested interest in his upbringing so—"

"Well he's brought up! He's grown!" the advisor shouted impatiently. "What further good can you do for him?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Said ward is very nearly an adult. Isn't it about time to wave him off? Stop promenading about with him? Maybe matters would be different if he were a more charismatic boy, if he had a little more charm with the public—!"

"Goodnight."

"Your Goodness—"

"I said goodnight!" Glinda shouted. "Have a very, very good goodnight."

Liir ducked into a doorway to go unnoticed as Glinda's advisor stormed out of her office and turned the corner. When Liir peered through Glinda's open office door he saw Glinda at her desk with her head in her hands.

"Auntie Glinda?"

Glinda squeaked and practically jumped out of her chair.

"Liir!' she gasped, her hand flying to cover her racing heart. "You scared the good gracious out of me."

"Sorry…"

"Oh, no. No, no, don't be sorry."

Glinda removed her pink rimmed readers and set them on her desk before rounding the desk towards Liir.

"I just wasn't expecting—"

"Your orphan?"

Glinda stopped at the sound of Liir's bitter tone.

"Are you okay, darling?" Glinda asked, looking him over. "What did you need me for?"

"I had a nightmare."

"Oh," Glinda sighed sympathetically. "I'm sorry you were frightened. Would you like me to sing you to sleep like I did when you were little? That always knocked you right out—"

"No."

Glinda hesitated a moment before gesturing towards the door.

"How much did you hear?" she asked knowingly.

Liir didn't answer and Glinda sighed.

"Well…never you mind him. He can get ever so prickly!" Glinda said, sitting on the edge of her desk. "I mean—look how late he's kept me up with all his boring business. Though I suppose it's better I get it out of the way now so it doesn't cut into our birthday month fun, right?"

"Right. Birthday month."

Glinda knitted her eyebrows.

"What's on your mind, honey?"

"Is that what all this birthday month stuff is about?" Liir mumbled. "One last celebration before I'm eighteen and then you'll wave me off for good?"

"What in Oz's name are you talking about?"

"Is that all I am to you? What he said?" Liir gestured out the door. "Some charity case?"

"Goodness no!" Glinda asserted, standing from her desk. "Don't you listen to him for a tick-tock. What does he know?!"

"More than me, apparently!" Liir exclaimed. "He knew a lot of stuff I didn't know!"

"What—"

"What was all of that about a Cloister?" Liir said. "He said you found me somewhere."

"Well, yes he did say that—"

"You've always told me that you were my godmother!"

"I am! I am your godmother. In every sense of the word," Glinda insisted. She approached Liir and took his hands. "Oh, I can see this has worked you up into quite the tizzy. Why don't we go make some hot cocoa and—"

"I don't want hot cocoa," Liir said impatiently.

Liir dropped her hands and turned away from her, running his hands through his hair.

"It doesn't add up, Auntie Glinda."

"What doesn't?"

"Any of it!" he turned. "My life. You've always told me, all you've ever told me, is that my parents wanted me to have a good life. But now I hear that I was—I was discarded?"

"Well, you see—"

"If all you did was find me and bring me to a Cloister then how could you have known what my parents wanted for me? How could you have been named my godmother?!" Liir asked desperately. "Did you just make all that up to make me feel better over getting abandoned?!"

"Of course not! You know that's not true."

"I don't know anything, Auntie Glinda! That's the problem! I don't know anything!"

"Liir, honey," Glinda said, approaching him calmly. "I know what you overheard upset you. There's a lot of change in your life right now. You're living on your own, you have a big birthday coming up, college is right around the corner. It's only natural that you'd feel out of sorts!"

Liir pressed hand to his forehead and groaned in frustration. He took a deep breath to clear his mind.

"My peers were always jealous of me," he explained slowly. "The other orphans in the boarding schools. They'd ask me why Glinda the Good came to visit me three times a week. Why she chose to spoil me…just me."

Glinda sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly.

"Why Glinda?"

"Why what?"

"If you really just found me somewhere, if everything between us was really just out of charity, then why have you done so much for me? Why do you—" Liir faltered for a moment. "Why do you care about me at all?"

"Oh, Liir…why wouldn't I?" Glinda stressed softly.

Liir shook his head, not convinced.

"No…no there's something else," Liir insisted. "There is something you've been hiding from me. I can feel it. Something to do with what happened at the museum, with my magic, with where I come from—"

Glinda scurried to her office door and closed it.

"Keep your voice down," Glinda scolded. "You never know who may be listening in."

"There! Right there!" Liir gestured to the door. "What don't you want to be overheard?"

"Can't we calm down?" Glinda appealed. "There is no reason to go flying off the handle."

"Don't tell me to calm down when—"

"Liir, sweetie, please—"

"I'm practically an adult, Auntie Glinda!"

"Okay, okay—"

"I'm old enough!"

"Liir—"

"I'm old enough for the truth!"

A glass vase of flowers on one of Glinda's end tables exploded and a squeaking from above caught their attention. They looked upwards at the chandelier and Liir's feet froze where he stood as it started to spark and violently swing. Reacting quickly, Glinda threw an arm around Liir's shoulder and rushed him to the corner of her office where they ducked for cover moments before the chandelier crashed to the floor in a destructive mess.

When they both opened their eyes the room was dim, the only remaining light source being Glinda's desk lamp. Liir looked down at his hands, eyes wide with confusion and fear.

"What's the matter with me?" Liir choked. He looked up at Glinda in desperation. "Auntie Glinda, what's wrong with me?"

"Nothing!" Glinda insisted. "Nothing…nothing is…"

Glinda trailed off as she got a good look at Liir's face. His eyes were glassy with frightened tears and while she'd done her best to shield him from the wreckage, she spotted a tiny scrape on his temple where the glass had nicked him.

Despite Glinda's best efforts, despite her good intentions…Liir had gotten hurt all the same.

"Oh, honey. Nothing is wrong with you," Glinda repeated shakily, brushing her thumb over Liir's small cut. "Oh—"

Glinda bowed her head, her chest heaving with a sudden, defeated sob.

"Auntie Glinda?"

Glinda shook her head and folded her hands over her heart as she began to softly weep. Liir was no stranger to Glinda's tears, nor was she a stranger to his, but her cries were usually melodramatic in nature. He had never seen her quite like…this.

"Oh, Elphie forgive me. Please, please forgive me…" Glinda whispered to herself.

"Auntie Glinda…" Liir said, softening. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm crying…because I'm about to break a promise," Glinda sniffed. "The most solemn promise I've ever made."

Liir frowned. "I don't understand."

Glinda wiped her tears and stood, glass tinkling off of her dress as she helped Liir to his feet.

"Follow me and don't say a word," Glinda said. She took a deep breath and looked Liir in the eye. "You're right, Liir. It's time you knew the truth."

Leaving the mess in the office behind, Glinda silently guided Liir up the steps and into her living quarters. Liir frowned when Glinda led him through her sitting room, her bedroom, and finally into her massive walk-in closet.

"Where are you—"

"Shh."

Glinda turned to Liir.

"I'm about to show you something that no one else in Oz has ever seen," Glinda said seriously. "And it must stay between us."

Liir nodded and Glinda turned towards the wall in her closet entirely devoted to shoes. She lifted her hand and made a waving motion and a second rack lowered from the ceiling with yet another assortment of shoes.

"You wanted to show me your shoe collection?"

"Shh."

On the new rack was an emerald heel. Glinda tapped it three times with her index finger before grasping the heel in her hand and pulling at it as if it were a door handle. Which, apparently, it was. Liir's jaw dropped as Glinda's shoe wall swung open to reveal a secret room.

"Well go on now," Glinda whispered, shooing Liir along. "Get in."

They both entered the room and Glinda closed the door behind them. The room was small, containing only a modest desk and chair, an armchair, and several shelves containing a variety of items.

"What is this place?" Liir asked. "What do you do in here?"

Glinda shrugged. "Scrapbooking, mostly."

Liir didn't question Glinda's apparent joke. The treasures on the shelves seemed rather innocuous. Among them were a pair of vintage Emerald City glasses, stacks of newspapers, and a green glass bottle. However, as Liir's eyes scanned the room with curiosity, he tensed upon seeing something on the opposite wall.

Resting on display in a fine stand was a giant, leather-bound book.

"Auntie Glinda…?" Liir asked slowly, his throat going dry. "Why do you have The Lost Grimmerie?"

Glinda calmly crossed to pick it up. Liir flinched slightly, as if expecting the book to bite, but it remained very still as Glinda smoothed a hand over the bindings.

"Because it's not lost," Glinda explained softly. "It was given to me."

"By who?"

Glinda closed her eyes and took a deep breath. There was no turning back from here.

"It was given to me…" Glinda began, before opening her eyes to look at Liir directly. "By your mother."

"My mother? I don't…"

Liir trailed off and the muscles in his face slowly fell into a blank expression.

"No…" Liir shook his head.

Glinda set The Grimmerie aside.

"Now Liir—"

"No. It can't be! It's impossible!" Liir insisted, his breath quickening with panic. "She can't be…I can't be…"

"I'll tell you everything Liir but you must listen, you must listen," Glinda pleaded.

"So it's true? I'm…I'm hers?"

He looked at his hands, feeling like he was going to be sick.

"Sweet Oz…it all makes sense," Liir wheezed. "It all makes horrible, horrible sense…"

"Liir—"

"That's why I am the way I am, that's why I grabbed the broom, that's why I had that dream!"

"Dream? What dream?"

"And…"

Liir looked to Glinda, another realization coming to light.

"And that's why…that's why you've looked after me all this time," Liir said, voice hushed with betrayal. "You wanted to keep tabs on The Witch's child…you wanted to make sure I didn't follow the same path she did!"

"Liir, honey. Calm down," Glinda shushed gently. "Please let me explain."

"How can I calm down?!" Liir cried, horrified tears jumping to his eyes. "How can I move forward knowing I came from her? Knowing I was born out of wickedness?"

"Ask me again," Glinda said, grabbing Liir's shoulders. "Liir, honey. Ask me again."

"What?" Liir sniffed, his eyes red and puffy. "Ask you what?"

"Ask me the question you've been asking me since you learned how to speak," she said softly. "Ask me if I knew your parents."

Liir furrowed his brow, his heart racing anxiously.

"Glinda, did you know my parents?"

"Well it depends on what you mean by know…" she reiterated with faint irony.

Liir looked at Glinda expectantly as she took one of his hands into both of hers and held it against her heart.

"Liir…your parents were nothing less than the closest, truest friends I have ever known."

"But my mother—she's…"

"Yes," Glinda confirmed. "Your mother was The Wicked Witch of the West."

"I don't understand," Liir shook his head. "How could you have been friends with someone so evil?"

"Because she wasn't. She wasn't evil, she wasn't cruel, she was—oh, Liir. She was special. If only you could have known her..."

Glinda crossed to her shelves and rummaged through them until she found an old photograph.

"The things you've learned about her, the things you've heard—you must believe me, Liir. That was not the whole story. That was not who she was."

Glinda slowly handed Liir the photograph. In it a much younger Glinda posed in a yellow dress and vintage green glasses. Beside her was another young woman with black hair, an infamously recognizable pointed hat, and skin as green as the city around her.

But she was smiling. She was young. She posed sillily with Glinda in her Emerald City glasses. She looked carefree, spirited…happy. Liir felt his eyebrows knit, his mind trying to connect the woman in the photograph to the sharp toothed monster at the museum.

"Elphie."

"Huh?" Liir looked up from the photograph.

"Her name…" Glinda said. "Her name to me, anyway. Oz has forgotten her name, or rather erased it…but it's Elphaba. Elphaba Thropp."

Glinda closed her eyes, a hand moving to rest over her heart.

"What's the matter?"

"I haven't spoken her name aloud in years…" Glinda said. "I didn't know how good it would feel."

"I don't know what to think," Liir admitted, handing the photograph back. "If what you're saying is true…then why did everyone hate her? Why does everyone still?"

"It is a very long story…" Glinda sighed. "But at its heart? They hated her because she was different."

Liir's frown twitched.

"Now she wasn't perfect," Glinda said. "Oz knows she wasn't perfect. But she was smart, she was uniquely talented…and she was brave. So brave, Liir. The Wizard offered her everything she'd ever wanted on a silver platter and she rejected it all. She said no to some very powerful people and it cost her—oh, Liir," Glinda shook her head. "It cost her…dearly."

"Wait…The Wizard? That one?" Liir asked, wide-eyed. "Why would she turn anything down from The Wizard?"

Glinda smiled sadly.

"Because it wasn't right. And Elphaba, right up to her very last moment in Oz, always did what she felt was right. Not what was easy, not what she wanted…no. She did what she thought was right."

"What about my father?" Liir asked. "You said you knew him too?"

"Oh, yes," Glinda smiled softly. "Yes, I knew him very well. One moment—I have his photo somewhere…"

She procured a newspaper. On the front page was a young man in a green and gold uniform, smiling and waving beside Glinda.

"That's him, your father. Fiyero Tigelaar."

Liir stiffened in recognition of the name.

"From the museum? That traitor guy?"

"A traitor, by Oz's standards, yes. But a criminal? No. The only crime he committed was stealing hearts," she chuckled weakly. "He was quite the charmer, your father. The crowned prince of The Vinkus."

"So I am Vinkun?" Liir looked up.

"Half, yes," Glinda smiled fondly.

Liir had always been curious about his lineage. His complexion had always made him suspect he was Vinkun. He wasn't the only one, either, judging on how often he got called Winkie boy by his classmates.

"And…you were engaged to him," Liir said, recalling what he'd learned in the museum. "To my father."

"Correct."

"Why didn't you marry him?"

Glinda snorted a bit and tucked her curls behind her ears.

"Well, Liir, because of…your mother."

"Oh," Liir said, feeling his neck heat.

"Yes, oh. It was quite the shock at the time, mind you."

"Why didn't I ever learn about him?" Liir asked. "If he was engaged to you—if he was a prince?"

"Well…I suspect that Fiyero's parents, may they rest, did everything they could to hush hush his involvement with The Witch. Seems they didn't quite like the infamy it brought to the Tigelaar name," Glinda said with poorly veiled contempt.

"He was the last of the bloodline, then?"

"Yes," Glinda said before sizing Liir up meaningfully. "At least…that's what people believe."

Liir felt a bit woozy as Glinda's words sunk in. He handed the newspaper back to Glinda and sunk into the armchair.

"So all this time…" Liir said, his brain struggling to soak it all in. "You've just been lying to me?"

Glinda's face fell.

"No, honey. I never lied. Not to you."

"How can you say that? You've known this, all of this, for my whole life…and you never told me. You never told me the truth."

Glinda kneeled in front of Liir's chair and took his hands insistently.

"No, no. That's just not so! I told you the truth every time! Your parents weren't able to raise you. I don't know what became of them, but—oh…" Glinda's voice buckled. "Oh, Liir. They wanted you to have a good life. The best life you could know. That is all true. Every word of that is true."

Liir released Glinda's hands and stood, staring at the collection of objects she'd hidden away.

"You hid so much from me."

"I told you all the truth I could," Glinda said, standing as well. "And you can't know how badly I've wanted to tell you all these years—"

"Why didn't you then?" Liir asked, turning to her.

"Because I made a promise," Glinda said. "I promised your mother. I promised Elphie that nobody would find out where you came from. Not even you."

"Why? Why would she make you promise such a thing?"

Glinda's face darkened.

"Auntie Glinda?"

"You don't know what it was like, Liir," Glinda said solemnly. "You've only known peace in Oz. You didn't live through the rallies, the mobs, the hunts. Your mother had the biggest price on her head in Ozian history. Your father had the second. If Oz found out that they had produced a child?"

Glinda shook her head.

"No. No, Liir. Nobody could ever know."

"How come nobody ever came after you then?" Liir eyed her suspiciously. "If you were so close with The Witch?"

"Because nobody knew. To this day nobody knows. Even after all this time…I could lose everything if they found out."

"You can't really think that, Auntie Glinda. Everybody loves you."

"Yes, they do…" Glinda agreed. "But not as much as they hated her."

Liir felt a tiny shiver rattle up his spine.

"That's why I've been forced to magick secret rooms. That's why I've been forced to hide. That's why I've been forced to keep things from you," Glinda said regrettably. "Think of that statue, Liir. Think of the yearly holiday Oz holds to celebrate her death. Don't you see? If Oz found out you were theirs…if they found out you were hers…they…they would have—"

Glinda shook her head, unable to say it. She stepped forward and grabbed Liir's shoulders.

"Liir you must swear to me that everything we discussed in this room stays between us. You must never tell a soul. Swear to it." Glinda held out her pinky with all the sincerity in the world. "Pinky swear to it."

"Is that how you swore to my mother?"

Judging by her flinch, Liir could tell that his bitter words had wounded Glinda.

"No. Not for that one…" Glinda said with a hitching voice, retracting her pinky. "We shared a much more solemn seal."

Liir would have thought it was a joke if not for the tragedy in Glinda's tone. In her eyes.

"I am sorry for the secrets I've kept from you, Liir. Truly I am. From the moment you were born I should have guessed who I was dealing with. I should have guessed that Elphaba's son would turn out to be so…inquisitive."

"And there's nothing else?" Liir prodded, searching Glinda's eyes. "No other secrets?"

Glinda was quiet for a moment before extending her pinky once more.

"Promise me, Liir. Promise not to tell."

Her response didn't answer his question…but Liir couldn't recall ever seeing Glinda more serious about anything. Conceding this round despite the thousand questions still on the tip of his tongue, Liir linked his pinky with hers.

"I promise, Auntie Glinda. I won't tell."

Glinda pulled him into a long hug which Liir hesitantly returned.

For his entire life Liir had watched in awe over the gift his Auntie Glinda had over people. The way she dazzled them. The way she smoothly controlled every interaction she was a part of. Liir had always foolishly figured that he was the exception to her rule. That he knew her, the real her. But after learning what he'd learned tonight…after hearing Glinda's loopholes, Glinda's lies, Liir couldn't help but wonder if he'd simply been another victim to Glinda's magic spell.

He did know one thing for sure. He was the son of The Wicked Witch of the West. There was no undoing that, no unlearning that.

The world as Liir knew it had ended and a new one had begun. As for if this new world would change him for the better…only time would tell.