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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?"

Chapter Text

"Excuse me?" Ahlaam the Good said, feigning deafness because of the bubble."Hang on, one second…"

She burst her bubble and smiled.

"Was it true you were her friend?" The munchkin repeated, pushing to the front of the crowd.

Memories of her and Margaret's 'friendship' flooded Ahlaam's mind. Dancing together at the Ozdust, spending time away from everyone else bar their charmed circle in fields of poppies… saying a tearful goodbye not two days ago… Their day out in Oz before everything went horribly wrong. The memories were bittersweet, stained with the grief of Margaret's death.

"Yes." Ahlaam the Good said, sending a ripple of shocked screams through the Munchkins, with a few even fainting. "I would call her an old friend… That is, I did know her… Our paths crossed at school…"

~*~

Shiz University was the most prestigiocious institution of higher learning in all of Oz, people coming from all over to learn at the northernmost part of Gillikin Country.

One such new student was Alamea Arduenna Upland, future good witch, beloved by all. She got off of the bullet train from Frottica that terminated a good ten minutes off of campus.

There were already dozens of students at the Gillikin Express, which ferried people all across the north and to and from the Emerald City.

Some greeted Alamea as she walked past, her parents and housekeeper trailing behind, carrying her numerous pink bags that coordinated with her outfit as they went to the dock nearby, where small gondolas would carry them to campus, as Shiz district was laced with waterways rather than roads.

The water was clear and blue under the bright midday sun as Alamea settled herself down for the ride into her dream school, drifting her hand lazily in the canal as beautiful rainbow fish swam by, their fins tickling their hands.

Shiz University came into view shortly after, a large, old castle with spires that pierced the sky in whorls of gold and white.

Many students had already arrived and were saying farewell to their parents for the year, their trunks cluttering the docks.

"You will write to us, Alamea?" Her father said as they hugged goodbye.

"Of course, popopsicle…" Alamea smiled, rolling her eyes goodnaturedly at how clingy her parents were. "Now it's that time… I will write and see you for Lurlinemas, if not before…"

"Be safe, darling, we are so proud." Alamea's mother kissed the top of her head."

"Momsie, Popopsicle, time to board the boat…" Alamea gently shooed them back on so they could leave.

"WE LOVE YOU Alamea!" The shouted, waving as the boat took them away down the canal, back to the station.

"They're gonna miss me so much." Alamea sighed, turning away from waving back the moment they were out of sight.

"My parents don't even know I left." A short munchkin boy in a brightly coloured sweater vest popped up beside her.

"Oh!" Alamea laughed breathlessly in relief once the fright of someone coming out of nowhere.

"I'm Boq… Woodsman, of Munchkinland… I know we don't know each other, but…" He offered his hand to Alamea.

"Do you want to know what I think, Biq?" Alamea replied, a gentle smile on her face. "Strangers are just people I haven't met."

"Alamea?!" Two people called out from further in the crowd, and Alamea left, leaving Boq smitten.

They were both Gillikinese, tall, and they both had a large overexcited grin on their faces.

"It's Pfannee, and ShenShen, from Miss Cringeable's Twirling Academy!" They chattered excitedly. "Do you remember us?"

"…Of course!" Alamea lied, not having the faintest who they were, but not wanting to be rude.

However, they got to chatting and they were both really nice and loved Alamea. They walked through the hallways to the orientation led by a man named Kalfu, the Dean of the University, listening to the choir in the rafters sing the school anthem.

Oh hallowed halls and vine draped walls

The proudliest sight there is…

Another young woman, dressed in black, walked up, something about her putting everyone else off.

When grey and seer our hair hath turned

We shall still revere the lessons learned …

The woman fixed her loose bun with green hands as she stopped right in front of the crowd, who was parting in fear of her.

In our days at dear old Shiz

Our days at dear old—

Alamea stole a brief moment for a solo before the song finished, not noticing the woman behind her.

The end of the last "Dear old Shiz" was drawn out, sounding like bees in the air as even the choir was taken aback by this woman's green skin.

Alamea turned around and gasped in shock.

"…Is there something in my teeth?" The green woman asked, baring her teeth slightly.

"…No," Alamea began nervously, regaining her footing as she spoke. "It's just… You're green."

"I am?!" The green woman gasped in shock and stared at her hands, acting as if this was the first time she had noticed.

She put her hands down, holding them across her stomach, as she glanced at the floor and groaned slightly.

"Alright, let's get this over with…" She met the crowd's eyes bravely, launching into the prepared spiel to avoid unnecessary bullying for her skin. As she approached the edge of the circle around her, everyone flinched. "No, I'm not seasick, I did not eat grass when I was younger and yes, my skin has always been green."

Ahalamea spoke first, breaking the hushed whispers everywhere. "I, for one, am so sorry that you have to live like that."

"Why thank you for that…" The green woman said sarcastically, feigning gratitude.

"Maybe I could help with your… problem?" Alamea said, offering her winning smile. "As it is my intention to major in Sorcery, I might learn a spell or two to fix that…"

Everyone applauded Alamea's braverism at offering to help such a strange young woman.

"Offering to help someone you do not know with skills you don't have, I'm sure everyone's duly impressed…"

"I could care less about what others think." Alamea replied defensively.

"Couldn't."

"Excuse me?"

"Your grammar was wrong, you couldn't care less about what others think." Margaret explained. "Though I suspect that was more apt than you realise."

"MARGARET CAVENDISH!" A man shouted from across the square, wheeling a tragically beautiful seeming young man in a chair toward them.

Everyone made way for the duo to join the prickly green girl, who smiled at the young man in the chair, with eyes like the sea.

Margaret turned to the crowd once more. "This is Dakkar, my brother, who you can see is a perfectly normal colour…"

Alamea wandered away with Pfannee and ShenShen, dumbfounded, her two new friends reassuring her that she was Good and hadn't done anything wrong.

The older man hissed in his daughter's ear. "Stop making a spectacle of yourself!"

"Won't happen again." Margaret sighed frustratedly.

"Now, take your brother into the welcome address…"

Knowing far better than to help him, as he did not need it, and if he did, he'd ask himself, Margaret refused. "He doesn't need my help, father. He's a grown man."

"She's right…" Dakkar piped up and Frexspar the Godly softened, smiling at his beloved son.

"I know, but allow your old man his worries."

Margaret's heart twisted, silently wishing that she would be looked on that kindly.

Frexspar procured a box from the trolley. "A parting gift for my lovely boy."

Dakkar opened the box and there was a pair of silver and crystal slippers, to his astonishment, and surprise. The shiny metal and crystals glimmered in the midday sun.

"Mother's silver shoes…" Margaret whispered, her heart sinking slightly. Dakkar noticed and squeezed her hand, silently offering his sympathies to his often neglected sister.

She squeezed back, pretending that it was fine.

"I thought you'd like a memento of home…"

"They're wonderful, father, thank you." Dakkar carefully closed up the box, holding it in his lap.

The bell rang, indicating all freshmen must report to the main amphitheatre to hear the welcome address from Dean Kalfu.

Frexspar went to wheel Dakkar into the room, nut both of his children chastised him at the same time. "Don't help him/me!" they shouted and laughed slightly at how in sync they were.

Margaret decided to walk alongside Dakkar, to say her goodbyes properly.

"I am sorry about the shoes, Margaret…" Dakkar began.

"Don't be. It's all fine." Margaret said, not entirely a lie. She expected it but it hurt all the same.

"I will miss you." Dakkar stopped and took his sister's hand again.

"You won't. You'll be having far too much fun." Margaret grinned. "Just write so I can live vicariously through you."

"Will do." Dakkar laughed and disappeared into the amphitheatre. Margaret walked against the throng of students, back to her father.

"Go after him." Frexspar said.

"What? No. He's fine on his own."

"How can you be so certain? Just go."

"Father—"

"Margaret Cavendish, I am telling you to go after your brother!"

Margaret was practically shoved into the back of the amphitheatre, listening to Dean Kalfu discuss what was going on for the year, flanked by the faculty, which boasted a Gryphon named AJ Griffin, amongst other notable scholars in Oz.

"On behalf of my fellow faculty members, I would just like to say we have the highest hopes… for some of you." Dean Kalfu said to the gathered crowd who all got up in a standing ovation.

Dakkar, being in his wheelchair, couldn't see beyond the people standing in front of him, so he ended up scanning the crowd instead, finding Boq on a bench a few miles away, also unable to see because he was short.

Boq felt a pair of eyes on him and locked eyes with Dakkar and they both shared a 'can you even believe all this' look at how they were both drowned in the crowd, laughing with one another.

The younger grandson of the Eminent of Munchkinland felt something stir in his heart at the young munchkin boy from across the room.

"Now, please see your room assignments posted throughout this room."

Long scrolls unfurled from the poles surrounding the room and students crowded around, looking at where they were moving into.

Alamea rushed up to Dean Kalfu, excitedly waving her hand to grab his attention.

"Dean Kalfu? Have you got a minute?" She asked, bubbling with excitement and nervousness at talking to her mentor.

"If this is about room assignments, you can speak to Miss Coddle…" Kalfu replied dismissively, walking away from her, to Alamea's dismay. But she was nothing if not persistent, so she continued to chase after him.

"No, it's about your sorcery seminar that I applied to? My name's Alamea Upland… of the upper Uplands?" Alamea laughed nervously when the Dean didn't have the foggiest who she was. "You might remember my essay… 'Magic Wands: Need They Have a Point?'"

"I do not run the seminar every semester, I'm afraid…" Kalfu turned to Alamea briefly, not hiding his irritation. "Only if someone truly special comes along."

Alamea was dumbstruck once again, stunned by the implication that she was not special in the slightest as Dean Kalfu turned away, fog-like coat flapping behind him.

Miss Coddle walked up to Dakkar, who was going up to the scrolls to find his room.

"Ah! Mr Cavendish!" The stout, exciteable woman beamed at him. "Your father spoke most highly of you."

"Thanks…" Dakkar said awkwardly, grimacing in disgust as Miss Coddle pinched his cheeks like he was a child.

"Oh, how tragically beautiful you are." Miss Coddle cooed, making Dakkar feel even more uncomfortable.

Miss Coddle let out a horrified shriek as she noticed a tall green figure.

"Margaret, his sister." Margaret gestured to herself. "I'm beautifully tragic."

"…S-sister?" Miss Coddle blinked, stunned.

"Yep."

"I'm… I'm sure we'll find somewhere to hide— ahem— house you." Miss Coddle replied, to Margaret's irritation.

"No need, I'm not enrolled." Margaret explained, ignoring the slight against her, used to it by now. "I'm just here to make sure Dakkar gets settled in."

"I can take it from here," Miss Coddle grabbed onto Dakkar's chair, her sweet smile tight and nervous. "We'll get you nice and settled, dear."

"I'm fine," Dakkar protested as he was wheeled away without permission. "I just want to find my room."

Miss Coddle started wheeling Dakkar away hastily.

"Leave him alone." Margaret said, irritated. "He doesn't need your help."

"I'll take you there myself!" Miss Coddle said far too cheerily. "Don't worry!"

"I don't need you to take me anywhere—"

"Listen to him, Miss Coddle! He's more than capable!" Margaret snapped.

"He's fine, I've got him."

"Let go of my chair!" Dakkar tried to wrest away control of his wheelchair, but Miss Coddle was determined and persistent, taking him across the amphitheatre.

"STOP!" Margaret yelled, extending her green hand. Then magic happened.

Benches and chairs went flying into the air alongside Dakkar in his wheelchair, who was freaking out at being suspended in midair, flying backward toward Margaret.

The remaining students gawked at the magic in front of them, Dakkar hysterically gripping onto his chair as he landed next to Margaret.

The magic ceased and everyone dove out of the way from the crashing benches and chairs.

The frieze of the Wizard watching over them all cracked and fell, revealing a delicately painted picture of Animals teaching people.

Dakkar looked at his sister, face flush with embarrassment at the hushed whispers spreading throughout this crowd.

"I'm sorry, Dakkar…" Margaret said. "I was just trying to—"

"This was my one chance to get away from all this for a new start." He said angrily, wheeling away.

Dean Kalfu walked over to Margaret. "What talent you have… Miss?"

"Margaret Cavendish…"

"How would you like to be part of my sorcery seminar?" Kalfu grinned, taking Margaret under his arm.

"I'm… I'm not a student…" Margaret protested.

"You are now. I will tutor you myself." Dean Kalfu turned to the remaining students. "Who here is willing to share their room with Miss Margaret?"

Tripping over her feet, Alamea rushed over, wanting to get in on the sorcery seminar.

"Ah! Thank you for volunteering, Miss Alamea." Kalfu smiled.

"I… I'm not…"

"It's settled!" Dean Kalfu led Margaret away, to further discuss her enrolment, leaving Alamea dumbfounded once again. "I will take no other students."

Alamea had never not gotten her way before in her life, so she was practically faint from shock.

"I need to lie down…" Alamea fanned herself and Pfannee and ShenShen carried her off to her private suite, shouting for someone to get Alamea some pastries to revivify her senses.

"Thank you for your very kind offer, Dean Kalfu, but I honestly can't accept… my father would never allow it—"

"Leave your father to me, Margaret. I'll write to him immediately." Kalfu replied dismissively. "How long have you had that talent?"

"…Talent?"

"Yes. Talent."

Margaret blinked, her heart warming. She had never considered this trick she could do was actually something good, rather than a nuisance and a curse. "I… As long as I can remember. Something bubbles inside of me and I cannot control it and when it does, bad things happen."

Kalfu smiled at her. "With the proper training, you can do some real good with it. I'll write to the Wizard about you, and if you prove yourself, he could probably make you his magic grand vizier."

The Wizard… The one person in all of Oz who could grant Margaret's wish… her dream to work alongside him, becoming beloved through what she can do, not hated and feared because of her green skin and strange magic. Margaret couldn't believe it… This was better than she could've imagined.

"Welcome to Shiz, Margaret." Dean Kalfu squeezed her shoulder. "You will do great things."

Kalfu walked away, leaving Margaret on her own, imagining her future.

Did that really just happen? Was this strange quirk that she hated and had hidden for her entire life for the further chaos and complications in her life her ticket to meeting the Wizard?

If she was Good enough… her life would change for the better once she met the Wizard.

He would look past her green skin and see her bright mind. Of course he would, what was he? Small minded like Munchkins or just stupid? No. He's the Wizard! And he would welcome her with an open heart and take her under his wing, elevating her as an equal in magic and status.

Father wouldn't be dismissive of her, and Dakkar wouldn't be ashamed of what she could do, even though more often than not, the fear and anger that activated it was more often than not on Dakkar's behalf. And all of Oz had to love her, seeing past the green of her skin because the Wizard had seen beyond it and that must mean that she's truly Good.

Margaret wandered the campus half in this dream, half paying attention to her surroundings. Maybe, once she meets the Wizard, she'll understand why she has this strange gift or curse.

She approached a small pavilion on the outer wall of Shiz, where ornately carved and decorated glass shards hung from the rafters and began to imagine the conversation she had waited her whole life for.

"Margaret," The Wizard would say one day. "You are truly a young woman of superior talent and heart."

"Thank you, your Ozness…" Margaret would reply politely.

"Please, call me by my name, you're practically family…" He'd laugh, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. "But my point is that shouldn't a girl who has so much Goodness inside have that reflected on the outside?"

Margaret would begin to smile as the words that had been the (admittedly selfish) object of her dreams her entire life slowly came of the wizard's mouth.

"And since everyone to an absurd degree seem fixated on your verdigris," He would offer his hand. "Would it be alright by you if I de-greenify you?"

Margaret briefly entertained the excitement of this imaginary offer, picturing herself with warm, slightly pale skin like her father's, or something darker like her mother and brother…

But she giggled nervously, remembering that she was not a selfish person and that if anything, she would use it to help Dakkar in any way, like make everyone less inclined to coddle and baby him, even though he was a fully grown man, but such was the nature of Ozians to think he was soft in the mind as well as unable to walk.

She would weigh out her options and eventually agree to have her skin be transformed to a normal shade.

And what a pair they'd be, the Wizard and her.

Margaret spun the glass around and in the rotation of lurid colour, not limited by the normal perceptions of time and reality, she saw a vision. The vision was hazy and unclear, like a mirage, but it looked like a vision of the future.

Posters everywhere, with her face on them, and people throughout the land dancing jubilantly for some unknown reason.

Margaret's smile grew at her vision, realising that, someday, there may well be a fantastic celebration throughout Oz, all to do with her.

Giddy excitement bubbled up inside Margaret as she left campus, out into the cornfields that separated Shiz from the Deadly Desert that surrounded Oz like a moat.

The future she imagined at the Wizard's side made her so extremely happy and excited that she felt like she may just… melt on the spot from the sheer warmth inside her soul.

The giddy bubbling excitement lifted Margaret up as her magic propelled her up ten feet in the air, setting her back down a few feet away, which only made her more excited, finally seeing her magic come out of jubilation rather than fear.

She stood on the cliff's edge and let out an excited shriek, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she finally felt like she was not a total freak for her magic and her skin for a while.

But she had to return to the real world, and her new room with… Alamea.

There was pink absolutely everywhere from all of Alamea's things. Pink boxes piled to the rafters, pink clothes on a pink rack, pink bedding, and of course, the all-pink ensemble Alamea wore.

"Hello! Welcome!" Alamea forced a smile.

"Hi." Margaret replied flatly.

"So, this is our room…" Staring at her new roommate awkwardly, Alamea turned around dramatically.

"Do you really think this is fair?" Margaret asked, staring at how Alamea's things filled the entire space.

"It's not, I was promised a private suite, but we make do." Alamea waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry! I saved you some room!"

Alamea excitedly skipped over to the rail of clothes and parted them with one hand, revealing a tiny bed with sheets folded in one end of the bed, with a little note written in hot pink ink reading "It's great! -Alamea <3".

"It's great!" Alamea whispered encouragingly.

"You shouldn't have…" Margaret deadpanned, disliking this stuck up woman more with each passing clock-tick.

"That's what makes me so nice!" Alamea squeezed Margaret's shoulders in a show of fake niceness.

"Where are you going?" Alamea matched Margaret step for step, as the green woman walked away.

"Closing the door."

"But I so do love air…" Alamea walked toward the balcony doors, leaning her head back and tossing back her dreads and goddess curls in the wind.

"Fine." Margaret stepped away from the door, turning toward the exit.

"…How did you do that, in the courtyard?" Alamea asked, blocking Margaret from leaving.

Margaret tried to push past her new roommate, but Alamea was far too persistent."I don't know…"

"Roommates don't keep secrets." Alamea countered, irritated. "Maybe you could speak with Dean Kalfu about getting me in to the sorcery seminar?"

"Why would I do that?" Margaret said brusquelyz

"Please…" Alamea whined, drawing out the vowels. "It's what roommates do…"

When Margaret just didnt respond, frustrated, Alamea continued her tirade, calling her selfish for not sharing her magical secrets and that it was the least she could do considering the whole drawer she left aside for her.

Margaret closed her eyes and clenched her fists, and magic came from within her, slamming the balcony doors so hard it shattered the glass.

"There. Compromise." Margaret opened her eyes and walked out.

Living together was absolute hell for both Margaret and Alamea, and they expressed as such in their letters home.

"Dearest, darlingest Momsie and Popopsicle," Alamea wrote, sprawled on her bed in a floufy pink robe and matching silk bonnet. "Guess what?—"

"My dear father," Margaret, curled up in the small portion of their room that Alamea gave her, also wrote. "Thank you for agreeing to let me stay.—"

Alamea continued her letter, narrating what she wrote as she put it on the page. "I can't hear your guesses because this is a letter—"

"And about requesting moving in with Dakkar—"

"There's been some confusion over rooming here at Shiz—" They both wrote.

"But of course, I'll care for my brother—"

"Of course, I'll rise above it!"

"Because I know that's how you'd want me to respond," They both wrote. "Yes, there's been some confusion, for you see my roommate is—"

"…Unusually and exceedingly peculiar and altogether quite impossible to describe—" Alamea looked at Margaret.

Margaret peered through the curtain of pink dresses and spoke what she had written down scathingly. "…A princess."

Neither Margaret nor Alamea knew what this feeling was, having not felt it for another person before they laid eyes on one another.

They both felt sick to their stomachs, with pulses rushing faster than ever before, heads reeling, consumed with the thought of the other and faces flushed with a heat they didn't know the origins of.

The feeling consumed them both everywhere they went, into classes, where they'd fight over the last seat in the chemistry lab, the dining halls, where students and faculty whispered snidely about the strange green woman who can do magic, rallying behind Alamea, the princess of the school, all on her side from being forced to reside with Margaret.

Margaret's only friend was Dakkar, and they would sit together on occasion, at his insistence, because she did not want to take away from his ability to make friends even more than being related would because he associated with her.

Throughout all these terse interactions, with every petty rearrangement of the room, every snide comment in class, the feeling only grew, as fervid as a flame.

They'd both lay awake at night, consumed with the thought of one another as they listened to the pair of them just breathing, the sound of their very existence irritating their souls like a bad rash.

Yes, this feeling does have a name…

Loathing. Unadulterated loathing.

Margaret and Alamea absolutely loathed one another, vowing to do so forever, for their whole lives.

Alamea walked back inside her room after her lecture on Pre-Wizard Ozian Law, thinking she was done for the day.

She perched on her bed, kicking off her shoes.

Then she heard a "Boo" from beside her and she practically fell off of her bed in shock, knocking into the stack of shoes.

"We're gonna be late for History." Margaret cackled and Alamea flushed pink angrily.

Alamea stormed ahead past Margaret, not wanting to seem like she had totally forgotten that boring old AJ Griffin's class.

The class all filed into the lecture hall and toom their seats, opening their books and chattering excitedly.

They all were silenced by the beating of a large pair of wings in the air as the only Animal professor at Shiz landed in his lecture.

Professor AJ Griffin, who was, in fact, a Gryphon, was an imposing creature at first glance, a strong and imposing creature, with a stern gaze like cinders for those who dared attack his beloved students.

"Alright, students," Professor Griffin clapped his forepaws. "I have read all your essays. All very good, but some of you still favour style over content… Miss Ahl—AAH—m!" Professor Griffin squawked the second syllable with Alamea's name.

"Excuse me," Alamea raised her perfectly manicured hand in the back of the lecture hall. "It's Ah-la-may-a, with three syllables."

"Of course, of course…" Professor Griffin bowed his head. "Ahl—AAH—m!"

Alamea giggled to hide her irritation. "I fail to see the problem, all the other professors can pronouncify my name right."

"Perhaps the pronouncification of your precious name is not Professor Griffin's sole purpose in life." Margaret shot back from the front row, staring back at Alamea as she leant on the back of her seat. "Perhaps Professor Griffin is different to all the other professors. Perhaps some of us are just different."

"Well, it seems the artichoke is steamed." Alamea pouted sarcastically, batting her perfect eyelashes, pissing Margaret off even more.

Pfannee and ShenShen giggled with Alamea, muttering quietly to one another.

"Settle down, class." Professor Griffin said, his burning gaze silencing the class. "Yes, I sometimes squawk. And yes, I am different to the other professors here. I am the only Animal professor at this university, and perhaps among the last in all of Oz."

Professor Griffin's eagle face turned severe and his feathers and fur stood on end with fear. "It's heavily discouraged to talk about in class, but I feel it's important to do so. There have been some massive changes, in terms of the rejection of Animal culture throughout our land."

Professor Griffin paced around the floor of the lecture hall, folding his forepaws behind his back. "Long before you all were born, it was extremely common to find Animals teaching in the lecture halls, Antelope reciting sonnets and Bears researching Lurlinism… So, can anyone tell me when and why this happened?"

"From what I've researched, the Great Drought." Margaret answered, without raising her hand, to the disgust of Alamea and her cronies.

"Correct," Professor Griffin's beak formed a slight, hesitant smile. "Food and water grew scarce and the people grew afraid, and when people grow afraid—"

"They look for someone to blame." Margaret answered once again, sharing an understanding of otherness with Professor Griffin.

"Correct, once again, Miss Margaret." Professor Griffin nodded warmly.

Alamea raised her hand once more.

"Yes, Miss Ahl—AAH-m?" Professor Griffin squawked, to her annoyance.

"It's Al-a-may-a…" Alamea whined, almost stamping her feet. "And why can't you just teach us history instead of always harping on about the past?"

"Because the past is inescapable, if we do not learn from it, we are doomed to suffer the same way. It explains our current circumstances." Professor Griffin walked over to the blackboard, placing a paw on the lever to turn it around. "For example, if we have a look at this timeline—"

Professor Griffin pulled the lever and the blackboard spun around to reveal, not the lesson, but something truly horrified that startled Professor Griffin and pissed off Margaret more than Alamea ever could, painted in red

Animals should be Seen and Not Heard!

"WHO WROTE THIS?!" Professor Griffin screeched angrily, turning toward his class, who were all silent and shocked, staring at the words on the board. "I SAID WHO WROTE THIS?!"

The class all shared nervous looks and hushed whispers as Professor Griffin dismissed the class.

Everyone filed out, uncomfortable with what happened. Everyone except for Margaret, who got up and grabbed the bucket from the corner and a cloth, preparing to clean those hateful, horrible words off of the blackboard.

"Miss Margaret…" Professor Griffin protested nervously, walking toward her. "You don't have to do that…"

"I want to." Margaret smiled at him.

"… Thank you." Professor Griffin smiled, genuinely warmed by the kindness of the young woman. "You're too kind."

Margaret smiled, wringing out the cloth as the paint smudged and blurred and eventually ran off onto the floor.

Margaret replaced the poppies in Professor Griffin's vase. "Poppies are my favourite too."

"They cheer me up in these uncertain times." Professor Griffin sighed. "Please, Miss Margaret, join your friends…"

"It's more than alright, I don't have any…"

"Maybe you have one." Professor Griffin put his paw over Margaret's hand.

"Thank you, professor." Margaret nodded, knowing there was someone out there that liked her. "…What exactly is going on in Oz? Do we need to tell the Wizard?"

"Not here, not now, we don't know who's listening." Professor Griffin whispered conspiratorially, terrified. "Come with me."

Margaret and Professor Griffin walked off of campus, using the hidden passageways throughout the winding buildings at Shiz to leave campus away from any prying eyes, out into the woods outside of campus as the sun set, turning the sky a burning symphony pink and orange.

Professor Griffin led Margaret down into an abandoned stable deep in the middle of the winding woods. He opened a small trapdoor hidden beneath some hay bales.

"Go inside." Professor Griffin instructed and Margaret listened, shuffling down the ladder as he confirmed that no one had followed them.

Beneatg the stables was a small room lit by a lantern hanging from the ceiling, casting the deepest recesses in shadow.

There were plush cushions spread everywhere and food supplies in piles tucked in the corner and plans to leave.

"Professor Griffin, please, tell me what's going on." Margaret took his paw, looking at him with concern.

"It is far more than just some horrendible words on chalkboards…" The Gryphon began, finally showing his true fear and anger for himself and other Animals. "We Animals are losing everything… we are being forced out of our work, our lives, and Animals who speak out are disappearing."

"Disappearing?" Margaret's stomach churned with worry and indignation.

"I had friends, an Otter who spoke out, she invited me out here a week ago. She didn't show up. Mutual acquaintances confirmed that she was not the only one. Animals are being silenced…" Professor Griffin paced about the room anxiously before freezing, filled with dread. "I have heard stories of something bad happening in Oz."

"What is it?" Margaret asked.

"I've heard of a colleague of mine, an Ox at our sister university in Quadling Country, barred from teaching, forgetting how to speak. And an Owl Unionist vicar, who may have known your father, forbidden to preach… Months later, he can only screech." Professor Griffin said gravely. "Yes, They're just rumours, meant to made us afraid, but still, they make my feathers quake and so many have left Oz because of them."

"Could that really happen?"

"It is…" Professor Griffin lowered his head. "When you make it discouraging enough, anyone can be kept silent."

"But if Animals are losing the ability to speak, we should tell the Wizard… That's why we have a Wizard.." Margaret insisted, trying to comfort her only friend. "So nothing bad…"

"Maybe you're right…" Professor Griffin nodded, relaxing somewhat. "Nothing truly b—AAAH—d!"

Margaret blinked, severely unsettled by her professor's unexpected squawking, like he was already losing his ability to speak.

"Sorry," Professor AJ Griffin cleared his throat awkwardly. "Bad. I must be catching something…"

"May Oz and the Unnamed God watch over you, Professor." Margaret nodded, hoping that all the gods of Oz, no matter their sect, would give this Gryphon a decent ending.

"And may Lurline bless you." Professor Griffin echoed, before shooing Margaret up the ladder. "You must go now and tell no one about what I told you tonight. Head back into campus the way we came."

Margaret nodded and determinedly climbed up the ladder, beginning her journey back to her dormitory, filled with dread.

Animals losing their voices… citizens of Oz disappearing without a trace… When she's at the Wizard's side, she will protect them and bring justice for those who could not have been saved.

But it was so strange to believe, something so dark and twisted happening in Oz…

Margaret pondered all this as she walked home through the moonlit forest, silently asking for her heavenly companion, the moon, for any advice on what to do about what Professor Griffin had told her.