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The forest is alive with whispers, branches swaying, leaves crackling beneath your hurried steps. The Yellow Brick Road gleams faintly under the moonlight, an unsettlingly bright contrast to the shadows surrounding you. You’ve left The Emerald City, in fear of The Wizard, but to find Elphaba, your friend. You knew if you were caught with her, all of Oz would turn on you the same way they did to Elphaba. But as you round the bend in the road, you stop abruptly.

A figure stands ahead, half-shrouded in darkness. At first, you don’t recognize him—the rigid stance, the weapon at his side. But then he steps into the light, and your breath catches.

“Fiyero,” you whisper.

His face is colder now, a mask of authority that doesn’t quite suit the man you once knew. Still, his eyes soften when they meet yours. For a moment, the forest feels quiet again. This wasn’t your first time seeing him after he became captain of the guard.

You swallow hard, but before you can respond, he continues, his voice edged with something sharper than anger—regret. ”You ran, didn’t you? From the Wizard, from the Palace. For her.” His tone shifts when he says it, softer, almost reverent.

”Elphaba,” he says her name like a challenge, like it carries a weight he still can’t fully understand. ”You believe in her, you believe in what she’s for…don’t you” He pauses, his eyes narrowing. He could read right through you, he had known you wouldn’t be able to turn like everyone else in Oz.

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