Chapter Text
-ACT I-
[Scene 1 - No One Mourns The Wicked]
Good news! She’s dead!
A large crowd of Ozians, inhabitants of the Emerald City of Oz, gathered outside in the town square. There were sounds of celebration, laughing, rejoicing- banners hung in the air and someone even shot off confetti, the green paper falling slowly.
The Witch of the West is dead! The wickedest witch there ever was, the enemy of all of us here in Oz, is dead!
Good news!
Good news!
One man stepped away from the crowd, on the outskirts he pointed a finger towards the sky, shouting and calling the attention of everyone else around. “Look! It’s Ulla!”
In the sky, a figure floated closer, encased in a bubble with iridescent sides. She donned a blue dress with her hair neatly done, a glittery staff of the same color as the fabric in one hand. Her smile was dazzling, perfectly poised, and pointed as she drew near. As if she had a gravity of her own, all those down below dropped their celebrations to greet her. And suddenly she was the sole subject of hundreds of eyes.
Ulla lifted her chin and raised her hand, waving neatly from side to side. “It's good to see me, isn't it?” Her voice was chipper, clean, falling and lifting at the perfect intervals. Almost melodic, like bells. The crowd quickly clamored to agree, crying out that of course, it was good to see her! It was very good! She lightly tilted her head back and a controlled giggle came out, silencing them. “No need to respond, that was rhetorical.”
A pause from the crowd, then mutters of agreement as they all spoke amongst themselves. How good Ulla the Good was, to always have such perfect rhetorical placement.
She cleared her throat, shifting her staff to her other hand. “Fellow Ozians, Let us be glad! Let us be grateful! Let us rejoicify that goodness could subdue the wicked workings of- ” Ulla hesitated, taking in a tiny gasp of air like the words were suddenly sticking together on her tongue- like they were coated in glue. She swallowed hard and recovered with grace, reconfiguring her smile, “ You know who! ”
The crowd nodded in agreement, one person jeered at a crude wanted poster of the Witch in question. For some reason, her blue eyes failed to meet the drawing. “ Isn’t it nice to know that good will conquer evil? The truth we all believe’ll by and by! Outlive a lie! For you and- ”
“Ulla!”
A voice stopped her in her tracks, she turned towards the civilian who pipped up.
“Exactly how dead is she?”
She pursed her lips, floating down closer until her bubble touched the ground and popped, setting her in the center of the crowd. All those gathered around but made sure to give her space for her dress was too perfect to risk ruining and the air around her must stay pristine. She was a spectacle, a symbol really- larger than life itself.
Ulla glanced from side to side, meeting the eyes of the curious Ozians. She started to wring her hands before stopping, interlocking her fingers as she tilted her head. “Well, there has been much rumor and speculation... innuendo, outuendo…”
She laughed, no one else did. Right, onwards. “But let me set the record straight! According to the Time Dragon Clock, the melting occurred at the 13th hour; a direct result of a bucket of water thrown by a female child. Yes,” She lifted her chin to project, her eyes burning subtly for just the tiniest second. No, it was just because of the breeze- or the sun! No actually, they didn’t water at all. In fact, they even crinkled at the corners when she smiled. “The Wicked Witch of the West is dead!
As soon as the last syllable left her lips the crowd cheered and began congratulating whoever was around them as if they were the female child who had so valiantly slain the Witch.
No one mourns the wicked! No one cries they won’t return! No one lays a lily on their grave.
The bubble reformed around Ulla, encasing her like a flower preserved in the finest of glass. She floated upwards, above the gathering, the sunlight glimmering off her glittery attire and skin.
The good man scorns the wicked! Through their lives, our children learn what we miss when we misbehave.
This far away from the crowd the people looked tiny, she could barely make out their faces. And in return, they could barely make out how her bottom lip trembled as she raised her eyes towards the western sky, how she sniffed just the tiniest amount- never to ruin her makeup. “And goodness knows the wicked’s lives are lonely. Goodness knows the wicked die alone! It just shows when you’re wicked you’re left only… on your own.”
Yes, goodness knows the wicked’s lives are lonely! Goodness knows the wicked cry alone! Nothing grows for the wicked; they reap only what they’ve sown.
Ulla blinked rapidly for no reason at all, looking as if she was about to float away before another voice pulled away from the crowd and directed all the focus towards her again. But that was alright, more than alright- she liked the attention. Truly.
“Ulla, why does wickedness happen?” A young boy cried up.
She pulled her lips into a circle shape, holding out one finger and nodding, “That’s a good question! One that many people find confusifying.” The crowd nodded in agreement. She floated closer, turning to speak to no one in particular, “Are people born wicked? Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them? After all, she had a childhood. She had a father, who just happened to be head alchemist for Munchkinland!”
A man exited a quaint-looking house, it was not nice by city standards but in the relative town of Munchkins, it was considered lavish. He turned back towards the door and offered his hand out. “It’s time to go, dear.”
“She had a mother!” Ulla gestured out towards the crowd in a sweeping motion, “As so many do!”
A woman donning her hat hurried out and took his hand. The pair nodded to each other and adjusted their badges, insignias of alchemy, before heading off down the road.
“And like all families, they made sacrifices.”
The workroom was small, heavily filled with green-colored smoke. Bottles of potions gurgled and fizzed as liquid traveled through different tubes, changing consistency and hue as they underwent reactions. The man, her father, stood to hurry over to his wife- the woman coughed and sputtered as they fanned the air. He turned, speaking to a third faceless figure in the room, obscured by the contamination.
“I don’t understand why we can’t work in our lab with proper ventilation!” He protested but the other just waved him off.
“After you finish your job, I’ll pay you enough to never have to set foot in a lab again.”
The man wrinkled his nose, about to pipe up again before he was silenced with a hand.
“Besides, what we are doing is completely harmless. Just a little dust in the air.” The woman coughed in the background before standing and hurrying out of the room. The figure didn’t seem to notice.
“You need to tell us what exactly we’re looking for! What exactly are we doing?”
“That is on a strictly need-to-know basis,” The figure seemed to get angry, taking a step towards the man and prodding a finger into his chest, “And you do not need to know. Keep asking questions, and you’re out. No credit. No money. Understood?”
The man took in a breath before exhaling, glancing to the side. In his mind swirled images of unpaid bills- late fees- as was the life of an academic. Then he thought of his wife, who he loved very dearly, who deserved a roof over her head and a warm bed at night. He thought of his future children, he thought of their shame- their disappointment that their parents could not provide. And he nodded. “After extensive testing… It seems to have no ill effects.”
“That’s what I want to hear. Keep it up.”
“And of course, from the moment she was born, she was… Well…” Ulla shrugged softly, “Different!”
A midwife lifted her head from under the sheets as her assistant ran into the room. “It’s coming!”
“Now?” The man, soon-to-be father, paced back and forth. A scream filled the air.
“The baby’s coming!” The midwife’s assistant echoed as he sat down and nodded with confirmation.
“I see a nose!”
“I see a curl!”
They spoke in unison, “It’s a healthy perfect lovely little-” Suddenly the baby and mother’s shouts weren’t the only sounds in the room as the two delivers let out a shriek of their own.
“What is it? What’s wrong?!” The mother lifted her head, she had a hard time looking down at the two gawking medics.
“How can it be?”
The midwife muttered.
“What does it mean?”
The assistant leaned in to inspect closer, recoiling in disgust.
“It’s atrocious!”
“It’s obscene!”
The father struggled to look over them, clamoring for a view of his daughter.
“Like a froggy, ferny cabbage, the baby is unnaturally green!” The midwife lifted the child, her green skin illuminated in the light. The mother shrieked in horror, the father quickly stumbled back as she fainted.
He looked from his unconscious partner to the squirming baby, his face hardening. “Take it away.” The midwife just stood there in disbelief, “Take it away!”
“So you see!” Ulla’s voice broke into the tiniest cry as she almost pleaded- almost begged- almost gripped those by the shoulders and turned them to look into the western sky as if that could make them understand. But she was speaking to no one- no one that would listen, and the little imperfection in her words was smoothed over like fresh cement or sand after a wave by the crowd’s ears. “It couldn’t have been easy!”
No one mourns the wicked! Now at last she’s dead and gone! Now at last there’s joy throughout the land! And goodness knows!
Ulla floated up further away, her smile breaking,
“Goodness knows.”
We know what goodness is! Goodness knows the wicked die alone!
She pressed her lips together, squeezing her eyes shut and holding her arms close to her chest for just a half second, “She died alone!” Before the crack in her perfect image healed itself. She took a big breath, her shoulders rising and falling as the cheers from the crowd washed over her. The sunlight stung her eyes but she kept staring.
Woe to those…
“Woe to those…”
Who spurn what goodness they are shown. No one mourns the wicked!
Gritting her teeth, she squeezed the length of her staff and turned back to the crowd, her smile stretched across her face and she held out her arms to either side. “Good news!”
No one mourns the wicked!
“Good news!”
No one mourns the wicked! Wicked! Wicked!
“Well!” Ulla laughed, there seemed to be a slight strain to her voice. Probably because she was oh so good, so considerate and righteous- that girl worked herself to the bone and asked for nothing in return, no wonder she was named Ulla the Good. “This has been fun! But as you can imagine I have much to attend to, what with the Wizard’s unexpected departure. So, if there are no further questions...”
“Ulla! Is it true you were her friend?” A woman pipped up, sending a loud gasp through the crowd that cut through their celebration like an icy draft.
Her blue eyes didn’t widen but somehow, if you looked closely but few bothered to, they lost their glimmer. “Well, I-” She stammered a bit, “You see- um- yes.” The last word was tiny, meek even.
Louder gasps ripped through the crowd.
“Well, it depends on what you mean by friend!” She motioned her bubble downwards, stepping out of it as the crowd quickly parted to make way for her. “I did know her, that is, our paths did cross… at school. But you must understand it was a long time ago! And- and we were both very young!”
So young, too young- with eyes filled with stars not realizing how hot they burned and how terribly flammable the future was. They were girls together.
[Scene 2 - Dear Old Shiz]
A proud-looking building, if buildings were capable of possessing pride, with dark gray stone and large windows- gothic style if one understood architecture- swarmed with newly arrived students on the steps.
Oh, hallowed halls and vine-draped walls, the proudliest site there is. When gray and sere our hair hath turned we shall still revere the lessons learned in our days at dear old Shiz. Our days at dear old Shiz.
Running up to the crowd, a shorter girl dragging two large beat-up suitcases, one with a duffle bag tied around it, pushed her way to the front. Her face beamed as she stared up at the building, practically bursting with excitement. She had fiery orange hair that swirled around her almost with a mind of its own, wild and untamable like a flame.
In contrast, a tall, lean girl with silvery locks pulled into a tight side braid quietly stood at the edges of the crowd- trying not to make a spectacle of herself. Her father, an older man, stayed beside her carrying her suitcase. It was nice, one of the best quality with pristine clean edges. She tried to take it from him- he held his arms out for a hug instead. The two paused, she stepped back- then went for a hug right as he handed the case to her. Eventually, she simply took it and shook his hand firmly, nodding.
They looked as if they were about to speak to each other- perhaps the man was thinking about how his only daughter, only child, was heading out into the world, how he wanted to apologize even though words that weren’t spells did not affect the past. Maybe he wanted to at least acknowledge the empty halls she grew up in, how he was so tormented with grief that he distanced from her- poured himself into his studies- and before he knew it she was all grown up. And she was moving away from him.
But words weren’t always said, not in the ways that mattered, and so he cleared his throat and gave her a formal nod before heading off. Donella watched as he went, letting down her guard for a brief second to take in the strangeness of the moment- the hazy foundation so often accompanying transitional perio-
The student next to her gasped loudly, attracting the attention of the crowd as they all collectively shrieked and jumped back and away. Well, all except one person with the bright teal dress, but she wasn’t really noticed by the other. Donella sighed, reality called. “What?! What are you looking at? Oh, do I have something in my teeth?”
When she stepped towards them the students shuddered away. Alright.
The girl wrinkled her nose and pinched the bridge in the exact same way her father did. He would know that- if he ever looked at her. She cleared her throat, shaking her head and speaking as if she were ribbing off a bandage. “Okay, let's get this over with. No, I'm not seasick! Yes, I've always been green! No, I didn't chew grass as a child!”
A pause, her green eyes glanced from terrified to mortified face, “Oh! And yes my hair has always been like this too! No, I do not dye it, why? Because I clash with everything!” She gestured down towards herself, her clothing was dark teal. When she moved people flinched but they couldn’t seem to look away- like watching a disaster was entertaining in some twisted manner.
“Welcome, new students!” A tall, well-dressed woman appeared at the top of the steps, dragging the attention away from her. Thank goodness. “I am Madame Morrible, headmistress here at Shiz University! And whether you’re here to study logic, literature, or linguification, I know I speak for my fellow faculty members when I say we have nothing but the highest hopes for some of you.”
She smiled and started to unfurl a scroll, “Now! Regarding room assignments.”
Donella and Ulla both raised their hands, the headmistress spotted Ulla first from how the girl bounced on her toes and waved her arm a bit to be noticed. She was small but it seemed she understood how to take up space- always fighting for it.
“Yes, is this regarding room assignments?”
“Nope!” She piped up all chipper, hesitating for a moment before clearing her throat. “I’m Ulla, I've applied to your sorcery seminar. And indeed that is my sole purpose of attending Shiz- to study sorcery with you! Perhaps you recall my essay-”
Taking a breath to continue, a student next to her interjected. “What’s a nice baker’s daughter doing studying sorcery?” He started and leaned to put an arm around her shoulders which she shrugged off, “With that face and that smile? You’d be tragically beautiful to be lost in books all the time!”
Everyone around her muttered an agreement- so maybe she had the smallest touch of a reputation. Always smiling, always bright- always brilliant though they seemed eager to forget that part. But she was known and liked and- well what wasn’t good about being seen as good? Ulla sucked in air and gritted her teeth, crinkling her eyes to look like a smile before turning back to the headmistress. “Right so-”
After that interruption, the woman seemed ready to move on- maybe there was even a little eye-roll thrown Ulla’s way, “Yes, yes... However, I do not teach my seminar every semester, unless, of course, somebody special were to come along.”
“Well, that’s perfect Madame Morrible because if you’ve read my-”
“Excuse me um-” The girl in green- no, the girl that was green- spoke up. She had a very long day and honestly wanted to be alone away from so many prying eyes. “We have not yet received our room assignments.”
The woman looked over at her with a start, then a soft scoff. “Yes, yes, of course, you must be the alchemist’s daughter.” Her tone was… mocking to put it kindly.
“Yeah yeah, I’m Donella-” She glanced over towards the general vicinity of that previous conversation. “I’m beautifully tragic.”
“Yes, yes, I'm sure you're very bright.” The headmistress waved her off and turned back to her notes.
“Phosphorescent, actually,” Ulla added, everyone around her laughed and nudged her as if she just made the joke of the century. She glanced around, confused- she was simply stating a fact. A fact and word they’d learn she was very well versed in if someone would just take her seriously for two seconds and let her talk about magic!
Madame Morrible looked at her list and squinted, “I don't seem to have you on my list. Oh, well a slight gulch, but not to fret! We'll find someplace to put you.”
Donella heaved a sigh, oh wasn’t that always the case? Somewhere to put her, out of sight and out of mind. Hopefully not by a window, wouldn’t want her yellowing as well.
While this was happening Ulla crossed her arms and sighed softly, shaking her head. “Y'know, I don't even think she read my essay.” She muttered to herself, wouldn’t be the first time that happened but it was still disappointing. The boy beside her picked up her comment and leaned in close. His eyes looked into her blue ones, almost sincere.
“That is so unfair,” He took her hand in both his own. Ulla wanted to pull away but- but that felt awfully rude, “If you ask me, you should say something?”
“You think so?”
He nodded, pausing for a second. “Oh I get it, you’re shy! Don’t worry, I’ll help you!”
“Wait no actually I’m perfectly capabl-”
Right at that second, Madame Morrible turned towards them. “Now, which one of you young ladies would like to volunteer to share with Miss Donella?”
The boy shot his hand up, “She would like to say-”
“Wonderful!” She turned and scribbled something down on her parchment, “Thank you, Ulla, dear. Oh, how very good of you!”
The crowd echoed in her compliments as Ulla stood there dumbstruck. And it wasn’t that she didn’t want to have a roommate, it wasn’t that she didn’t want to volunteer- it was that she didn’t get to do it herself. But she sat there and smiled and returned the compliments with polite ‘oh no no no’s and ‘why you too!’s.
Donella scoffed softly under her breath at the show, she was anything but a pity case.
“It’s settled then! Miss Donella, you will share with Miss Ulla. To your dormitories!”
“Wait- wait Madame Morrible!” She started to walk through the crowd but the people started pushing and shoving and bumping her around. Donella stumbled and twisted and squeezed her arms close to her sides. “Wait!” Her breath started to quicken, her chest heaved- she just had to explain! Explain to her that she wasn’t going to cause any trouble, that she was- that she wasn’t so difficult!
Her frustrations built up, she tried to breathe but everything was building in her ribs. Looking around, heads and hats as far as the eye could see. She was closed in, everything was too- too- “Too close!”
She cried out and pressed her hands to her ears, suddenly a force, like a gust of wind, blew over the area- radiating from where she was standing. The crowd parted from around her, stumbling back as she stood at the center of it all. Everyone stared, gawked at her even. Donella breathed heavily, slowly letting her hands come down.
“How did you do that?!” Madame Morrible questioned, her voice booming as she stepped closer. Donella shrank in on herself.
Ulla glanced around from where she was standing, “How did she do that?” She muttered to herself softly.
“I- I don’t know- I’m sorry usually I can control it but-”
“You mean this has happened before?” The headmistress bent slightly to her height. Her expression wasn’t negative but Donella couldn’t really read it.
“Uh- Something just comes over me sometimes. I'm sorry, Madame.”
“What? Never apologize for talent!” The woman cried out, loudly proclaiming this so-called skill to the rest of the student body. So much for flying under the radar. “Talent is a gift! Have you ever considered a career in sorcery?”
“Sorcery- No-”
“It’s settled then!” Morrible nodded, “I shall tutor you myself and take no other students.”
“What?!” How did such a loud noise come from such a small person? Those around Ulla didn’t know but there she was- her face almost red.
Donella barely had time to utter out a word as all the others left, except for that short girl in the blue dress.
The headmistress took her hands, giving them a small shake. “Oh Miss Donella, many years I have waited for a gift like yours to appear! Why I predict The Wizard could make you his magic grand vizier! My dear, my dear.”
The woman pulled away, turning to head up the steps, “I’ll write at once to The Wizard! Tell him of you in advance. With a talent like yours, dear, there is a defint-ish chance if you work as you should. You’ll be making good!”
Ulla ran up the steps to her, “Madame Morrible, if you’d just-”
“Not now dearest,” She gave her a pat on the head before opening the door and shutting it in her face.
Sucking in a deep breath, Ulla squeezed her eyes shut and scrunched up her face before releasing all that tension. “This will just make me a… better person.” She muttered to herself and hurried off before she blew her lid or something- created a spectacle of her image in the bad sort of way.
Donella blinked, she finally felt like her brain was catching up to her body after all of that. Looking at her hands, the green palms that kept away so many, she for the first time in a long while felt herself smiling. She brought her touch to her chest, looking off towards the sky.