Oz, and then The Causeway.
It was done. She wasn't going to wait for whatever celebration that went throughout Oz now that the 'Wicked Witch' was defeated. What mattered now wasn't that she had failed to depose The Wizard, but that Glinda was about to succeed at what she couldn't. What mattered was that Oz was going to be a better place, and while she might never get the recognition, she was the one who brought about that change.
She rolled her eyes a little at herself. While it was dizzying that all of this was happening, the last thing she needed was to get a big head about it. No, what truly mattered was she was about to be free. Free of Oz, free of everyone who doubted her, free of everyone who cursed her name. Free of a place that had cost her just about everything.
After having changed into clothes more suited for travel (pants were important, as were gloves and a cloak to conceal her skin in case she encountered anyone), She gathered what few belongings she still cared about into a sack, missing her pointy hat and broom. They were evidence she'd been melted away by that bumbling brunette in the gingham, apparently. There was an entire world to explore beyond Oz, and she was eager to get there. But it was a long, hard road ahead of her.
She took a step toward the door, but stopped when a familiar voice spoke.
"Elphaba," came the voice that was so similar but-not-quite the voice of her Fiyero. She turned around and looked, taking in the sight of the man she had turned to straw. He was smiling, and she couldn't help but smile back. "Elphaba, you can't possibly be trying to leave without me."
She didn't feel the least bit chastened. "You're one of the heroes of the hour," she replied. "Certainly the great Scarecrow will be needed as the guest of honor at some party back at the Emerald City. He shouldn't be chasing ghosts."
"I'm no hero," Fiyero replied, trying to sound stern. But Elphaba's mind was made up, and she hoped that he knew that.
"You're still needed here," Elphaba said. "And I need to go." She looked straight into his eyes, even though there was still that tiny pang of guilt for what she'd done to him.
"There's nothing I can say," Fiyero said, and she nodded in agreement.
They did not exchange I love yous, just a final embrace in one another's arms.
"Take care of Glinda. And make sure that Kansas girl doesn't do anything too stupid," Elphaba said.
"I'll never know how you can just leave an entire world behind," Fiyero said, turning away.
"I've done it before," Elphaba said. She'd been to a school on an island, where dozens upon dozens of worlds intersected and interweaved. Over time, it almost seemed to be like a lost dream. The imagining of a girl who hit her head in a storm, perhaps. "It's just like riding a bike."
She took her sack of belongings back into her arms, slinging it over one shoulder.
"Goodbye, Scarecrow," she said, and she stepped out the door.
And in the blink of an eye, with a great wooshing of air that seemed to have come from nowhere, she had left Oz far behind her. Elphaba stood at the end of a causeway, one that felt familiar, like she knew it from a dream.
But it was not a dream. She smiled, a great toothy grin that stretched all across her face. Then began to laugh. Not the mad cackle, but an earnest happy laugh of finding something old and dear, but entirely unexpected.
Of finding home, when she thought she'd never find one again.
[Just for one to start, please!]
She rolled her eyes a little at herself. While it was dizzying that all of this was happening, the last thing she needed was to get a big head about it. No, what truly mattered was she was about to be free. Free of Oz, free of everyone who doubted her, free of everyone who cursed her name. Free of a place that had cost her just about everything.
After having changed into clothes more suited for travel (pants were important, as were gloves and a cloak to conceal her skin in case she encountered anyone), She gathered what few belongings she still cared about into a sack, missing her pointy hat and broom. They were evidence she'd been melted away by that bumbling brunette in the gingham, apparently. There was an entire world to explore beyond Oz, and she was eager to get there. But it was a long, hard road ahead of her.
She took a step toward the door, but stopped when a familiar voice spoke.
"Elphaba," came the voice that was so similar but-not-quite the voice of her Fiyero. She turned around and looked, taking in the sight of the man she had turned to straw. He was smiling, and she couldn't help but smile back. "Elphaba, you can't possibly be trying to leave without me."
She didn't feel the least bit chastened. "You're one of the heroes of the hour," she replied. "Certainly the great Scarecrow will be needed as the guest of honor at some party back at the Emerald City. He shouldn't be chasing ghosts."
"I'm no hero," Fiyero replied, trying to sound stern. But Elphaba's mind was made up, and she hoped that he knew that.
"You're still needed here," Elphaba said. "And I need to go." She looked straight into his eyes, even though there was still that tiny pang of guilt for what she'd done to him.
"There's nothing I can say," Fiyero said, and she nodded in agreement.
They did not exchange I love yous, just a final embrace in one another's arms.
"Take care of Glinda. And make sure that Kansas girl doesn't do anything too stupid," Elphaba said.
"I'll never know how you can just leave an entire world behind," Fiyero said, turning away.
"I've done it before," Elphaba said. She'd been to a school on an island, where dozens upon dozens of worlds intersected and interweaved. Over time, it almost seemed to be like a lost dream. The imagining of a girl who hit her head in a storm, perhaps. "It's just like riding a bike."
She took her sack of belongings back into her arms, slinging it over one shoulder.
"Goodbye, Scarecrow," she said, and she stepped out the door.
And in the blink of an eye, with a great wooshing of air that seemed to have come from nowhere, she had left Oz far behind her. Elphaba stood at the end of a causeway, one that felt familiar, like she knew it from a dream.
But it was not a dream. She smiled, a great toothy grin that stretched all across her face. Then began to laugh. Not the mad cackle, but an earnest happy laugh of finding something old and dear, but entirely unexpected.
Of finding home, when she thought she'd never find one again.
[Just for one to start, please!]