Chapter Text
The Time Dragon Clock rang out for the fifteenth hour and all of Oz, both the loyal sectors and the seceded Munchkinland was ablaze with rumours of the death of the Witch that had spread like wildfire upon the Wizard's departure via balloon.
The Good Witch went to officially make the announcement, stepping up to the microphone in what was once the Wizard's palace, taking a breath as she looked at the well-loved pointed black hat and broom resting on upturned boxes in the ransacked room. She began to speak into the microphone, announcing to the entirety of Oz that exactly twenty six hours ago, the Wicked Witch of the West had been melted by a bucket of water, and was really most sincerely dead.
The relief and joy spread throughout Oz at that announcement, people emerging from their homes and shelters without fear for the first time in years to celebrate the good news.
Young Munchkins ran throughout their rainbow tulip fields, excitedly cheering as everyone started removing any trace of the Witch from the boarded up windows, gleefully sharing the news.
Signs and posters warning of the Witch's evil magic were unceremoniously torn down and danced across, leaving muddy bootprints off of depictions of the Witch's green face as they sang and cheered, celebrating her death.
The enemy of all Oz was dead and everyone rejoiced!
A bright pink bubble entered the atmosphere above Munchkinland.
The Munchkins all gasped in excitement as it slowly floated downward, glinting with the light of a brand new day.
"Look!" One munchkin cheered, pointing at the bubble. "It's Ahlaam!"
The bubble grew as it descended, getting closer to the raised platform in the centre of the square, becoming large enough to carry a woman.
The bubble burst and in all her pink finery and with wand in hand, stood Ahlaam the Good, who smiled at the crowd gathered to listen to her.
"It's good to see me, isn't it?" Ahlaam the Good giggled to the amusement of the crowd, before pulling a teasingly serious expression. "That's rhetorical, you don't need to answer."
"Miss Ahlaam?!"
"Yes?"
"How dead is she?"
"Fellow Ozians!" Ahlaam the Good declared. "In the absence of our Wizard, I am here to dispel some rumours, innuendo, outuendo… The Wicked Witch of the West is really most sincerely dead, having passed by liquefication via water thrown at her at the thirteenth strike of the Time Dragon Clock yesterday."
The Good Witch's tone was warm and her eyes crinkled with joy at seeing the jubilation. "Now is the time to be glad and grateful— to rejoicify that goodness had subdued the wicked workings of you know who!"
The crowd cheered in response, tearing down the scary poster with the Witch looming over them.
Ahlaam the Good slowly made her way down the stairs, her large gown taking up half of the staircase as she descended.
The younger Munchkins came to her first, excited to see her in person, awestruck by how larger than life she was, with her large, bright gown, sparkling wand and crown, she looked like a princess.
Ahlaam the Good crouched to greet them, ruffling their thick curls and offering them warms smiles and words of comfort, accepting their hugs in return. "Isn't it nice to know that Good will always conquer Evil?" She asked, gently tapping one of them on the nose, earning a small giggle from the child before rising to her feet once more and continuing to greet the Munchkins.
"The truth we all believe outlives lies…" She said, walking through the crowd, stopping to grasp hands, or accept gifts. "For you and—"
"No one mourns the Wicked!" A Munchkin yelled, gesturing to the fallen imagery of the Wicked Witch everywhere, discarded as the Wicked were nothing, unmourned and scorned.
The rest of the gathered Munchkins leapt up, cheering their agreement as Ahlaam froze, her face plastered in the warm smile everyone expected from her.
No one would lay flowers at the Wicked Witch's grave to mourn her, no tears would be shed over her death.
Instead, everyone celebrated, rejoicing that the terror was over.
"Through their lives, the future generations will learn what we lose when we misbehave…"
"Goodness knows that the lives of the wicked are lonely!" Ahlaam the Good declared as flower petals were thrown in the air. "Goodness knows that they die alone!"
The munchkins concurred, grinning as Ahlaam the Good made her way back through the crowd to the platform. "Nothing grows for the wicked! They reap only what they've sown!"
"They're left only on their own…" Ahlaam the Good thought to herself, staring at the poster of the Wicked Witch, reflecting on the history between them.
A young munchkin came up to Ahlaam the Good, tugging on the outer layer of her poofy skirt.
"Miss Ahlaam? Why does Wickedness happen?" The young Munchkin asked, looking up at Ahlaam the Good.
"That is a great and confusifying question, little one." Ahlaam the Good pinched their cheek gently. "Are people born Wicked, or do they have Wickedness thrust upon them by the world? As she had a family. Her mother, Chazira, was the Cavendish Second Descending of Munchkinland, in line to inherit the governorship after the death of her father. And The Witch's father was a beloved missionary, going out to spread the word of the Unnamed God throughout Oz, reluctantly leaving his flighty wife behind for the night…"
Ahlaam the Good felt the small green vial tucked inside the pocket of her gown. "But like every family, they had their secrets… Chazira had taken a mysterious lover, a travelling salesman offering a green elixir for a night of fun.
"Have another drink, my dark eyed beauty…" Chazira's lover said, offering the bottle to her as she teased him, gently removing his tie.
"And, as it so often does, one thing led to another and Chazira Cavendish was soon with child…" Ahlaam the Good continued. "They were ecstatic, preparing for her arrival. But from the moment she was born, she was different…"
Frexspar the Godly shrieked as he saw his newborn daughter for the first time.
"Sweet Oz!" He cried, shocked and appalled as he saw her.
"What's wrong?" Chazira asked, the family's Bear nurse, Dulcibear, semi-intentionally keeping the baby out of her view for the moment.
"How can it be?" Frexspar wondered, a pit in his stomach as he remembered what he had done just earlier that day, publicly disparaging the magic of the Time Dragon Clock… Was this fate punishing him for overreaching?
"It's uncanny…" Dulcibear whispered, carefully wrapping the wailing newborn in a blanket.
"It's obscene!" Frexspar corrected, deciding then and there that this was further punishment from the Gods of Oz.
"She's green …" Chazira gasped, staring at her newborn daughter with skin the colour of emeralds.
"The Witch's life would never be easy, the man she believed to be her father having scorned her, going off and travelling to spread the word of the Unnamed God across Oz and atone for the mistakes that led to Margaret being born green, while her mother did not know how to raise a child, so she was often left with Dulcibear, her beloved Nanny…" Ahlaam the Good continued her story, the Munchkins listening closely. "The world teased young Margaret for her green hue, so she grew defensive very young. Then Chazira fell pregnant again, when Frexspar and a young Quadling glassblower named Turtle Heart came home.
Frexspar did not wish for another green daughter, so Chazira went on the milkflowers— more than necessary and Dakkar was born a perfectly normal and acceptable colour, but at the cost of Chazira, who died giving birth to him. Frexspar returned home to Rush Margins after the loss of both Turtle Heart and Chazira, fawning over Dakkar, while maintaining his distance from Margaret, whom he had grown to love in his own way.
So… her life hadn't been easy."
The Munchkins ignored the sympathetic story and continued to celebrate the deaths of the Wicked siblings that had terrorised them for years, continuing their refrain of no one mourning the Wicked as Ahlaam the Good continued to walk through the crowd, greeting and celebrating with them.
"Now at last she's dead and gone, there's joy throughout the land!" The munchkins cheered, dancing over the discarded propaganda demonising the Wicked Witch and celebrating their freedom. "Goodness knows the Wicked's lives are lonely!"
"Goodness knows she died alone…" Ahlaam the Good muttered, unheard by the crowd celebrating around her as she looked up and saw a large crude wooden effigy of the Wicked Witch being dragged into the centre of the square.
"Woe to those who spurn what Goodness is… they are shown!" The Munchkins chanted as they walked away from the effigy.
A Munchkin attendant offered Ahlaam the Good a torch to burn the effigy, which she accepted with a slightly too tight smile.
The Good Witch looked at the effigy, seeing the crude depiction of Margaret, made from black cloth, straw and wood with a large sign declaring "DEATH TO THE WITCH!" in red paint on its base.
The mask slipped and Ahlaam's smile slipped from her face as she launched the torch at the effigy, setting it ablaze, clogging the clear eye with black smoke.
Ahlaam the Good then blinked the tears that burned the corner of her eyes away, returning her warm smile to her face as she faced the crowd and walked back up to her bubble, listening to the jubilant crowd cheer the death of the Wicked Witch.
Ahlaam the Good echoed the refrain of the good news as the effigy burned in the square and everyone danced around the pyre.
"If there are no further questions…" Ahlaam the Good reactivated her bubble. "I'm going to go."
"IS IT TRUE YOU WERE HER FRIEND?"