Elphaba had never been one to fear anything, or at least not to show how scared she was. The world was already too dark for her as she stood proudly in response, let alone when its shadows and cruel tentacles would reach out if she showed vulnerability? But she was afraid, even with her mask of invulnerability in place, for there were still eyes watching her, of that she was sure, and not just the bright ones that swirled in the darkness of that cage. No, those were the least frightening eyes to her. For whatever was watching her was nothing less than a predator that would make no distinction from its prey. No, the eyes that made her nervous and that forced her to remain on high alert so as not to appear weak and vulnerable were the eyes of the magician and his entire audience. They waited for her to agonize, to beg for mercy, for them to so blatantly ignore.
She wonders if the bright sapphire eyes she knew so well so long ago were watching. If the blue eyes that made her feel like she could fly long before getting on a broomstick were there.
The eyes of Glinda the Good.
Elphaba hopes she isn't, because Glinda would know she's scared, because no matter how much she pretends, how many masks of safety and courage she puts on, those eyes would always see through it all.
She saw it in Ozdust, back in Shiz. Glinda saw it five years ago when she was about to defy gravity and all the other laws of physics. She would never be able to escape his gaze, never be able to fool his sweet pink girl. But if she were there, with the magician, watching it all from the box seats, would her eyes be dry or would they be wet with tears? Would her gaze be fixed on the show that was about to unfold or would she look away? Would she be feasting on it? Would she be stewing in remorse?
Elphaba didn't know and didn't want to know. Knowing would hurt more than any of the alternatives above. Because she could never fix things between them, because there would never be a conversation that would solve everything again. After today, they would never be under the same sky again, something that always comforted her, always soothed her tired heart, because despite all the hurt and anger, Glinda still had her heart in her hands.
She wishes she had never set foot in that damned town all those years ago. She wishes she had never met him . Then she wouldn't be here. Then her name wouldn't have been slandered and dragged through the mud. She would never have been the Wicked Witch of the West. Because she doesn't regret saying no to the wizard, fighting him and standing up for animal rights. But she does regret being naive and believing he didn't know what was going on in Oz. She should have stayed in Shiz, she would have joined the resistance anyway, helping in any way she could. She should have never come and met the Wizard! And she would never have brought Glinda with her... Then, maybe, Elphaba wouldn't have lost her.
"Povo de Oz!"
And speaking of the jerk…
"It is with great relief in my heart that we gather here today to witness the great mastermind behind so much evil that has plagued our glorious country pay for her crimes. For more than half a decade she has wreaked havoc and evil in every corner of Oz. But that comes to an end today! Today and for days to come, your sleep will no longer be disturbed by fear. Your children and your children's children will never know you."
And the crowd screams and cheers with the magician's words, eating every ounce of lie sown. Elphaba is not surprised by the cries of joy at her imminent death. Once she wished for the love of these people! Once she wished to be by the Wizard's side. Once she dreamed of a life among them all.
But at that moment, she wanted nothing more than to be away from them all. She wanted nothing more than to see the Wizard taken down. There were days when she wished for his death. Sometimes she wished for the chance to kill him.
"It is not common in my kingdom to have an execution, especially in such a public way... But I know that for many, the mere imprisonment of such an evil being will not be enough to comfort your hearts, my beloved people of Oz. So I bring to the public the definitive end of the Wicked Witch of the West!"
He likes to talk, doesn't he? Elphaba just wanted the man to get it over with and get it over with. If she was going to die, then she might as well die! Hearing that filthy little man's voice just tortured her. If she didn't know him better, she would think he was really doing it, but she knew he just wanted to show off and put on a great show for the fervent audience. It reminded her of Frex's endless Sunday sermons.
"And I know that you ask that she be burned and that not even her ashes remain, that the executioner's sword take off her head and the noose decorate her neck! And I understand your feelings! I understand this, but to do real justice to her terrible and horrendous acts, so that she feels what you, my beloved people, have felt all this long. May fear afflict her as it afflicts us all, may she understand what it is to be terrorized by someone cruel and who will have no mercy in his acts, who will not consider her pleas and who hurt her without remorse."
In other words, she's going to be some demon's snack.
An angry growl from whatever is there rumbles throughout the arena. Her heart pounds faster and for a second she tries to summon her magic to protect herself from whatever is about to come out there. But alas, nothing happens. The magic that always flows throughout her body is gone. There is no buzzing or the electric current that accompanies her whenever she calls upon her magic. There is only the emptiness inside her, only the shiver down her spine. The shackles. She remembers that the damn things block and deny this part of herself. She cannot hate the man anymore.
"May she know what it's like to feel powerless against a powerful enemy. What it's like to feel vulnerable and unable to fight against an insensitive enemy. For this just reason, we are here today to see that no evil deed will go unpunished and that the wicked will not prevail in our beloved land." The grate begins to slowly rise... "The Wicked Wicked Witch of the West is sentenced to die at the hands of one of those she deformed with her vile magic..."
The fence continues to rise and the crowd cheers and applauds louder. Elphaba's heart hammers in her ribcage. Her mind races and searches for names. The first one that comes to mind is that Boq is the one who will be her executioner, the spirited and hard-working Boq, whom she sentenced to a metallic existence; who pointed a knife at her when she visited Nessa.
The next name that comes to mind is Fiyero, even though she knows that the man was so in love with her that he died for her. But in the blink of an eye, passion can turn to hate and hate can turn to passion. She knows this very well. She thinks it could be one of the monkeys, even though they are so loyal.
However, she sees that she is wrong in all her assumptions. For what emerges from there is no tin man or angry scarecrow, nor a resentful monkey with wings.
She doesn't hear the grinding of metal or an angry scream.
There is no gun pointing at its face. No, what comes out does not jump and advance angrily. What comes out is a huge paw, very similar to the paws of a bear, and soon after comes the other and slowly the beast walks out of its cage. Slowly its executioner reveals its form.
And… Blonde?
Don't get me wrong, the creature is big and massive. It resembles a lynx, with deer-like antlers and feathered wings, with two large, saber-like teeth exposed. The creature is truly terrifying, but it can't take anything blond seriously because every time its head turns to the image of Glinda trying to look scary. So sorry, Wizard, you should have sent the Tin Man to be its executioner—he would have filled her with fear and she would have screamed in panic—not this big, blond cat.
She feels a laugh rising from her chest to her throat and she can't contain it. It's loud and hideous, but there are notes of all her weariness, because what is there to do when imminent death stares you right in the eye and the gathered crowd cheers instead of mourns?
Nothing. There is nothing to do but laugh in the face of death. In the face of the Wizard . Because no matter how much fear she feels, it is simply the Wizard not being the least bit subtle in his metaphors: Killed by one of those for whom she gave up everything. Killed probably by a comrade of the resistance that the Wizard and Morrible have twisted into this savage beast. Elphaba's blood boils at the thought. The poor soul has been so mutilated and stripped of everything she once was, stripped of the person she once was, of her desires, her loves, her grudges, of everything she was, just by the Wizard's will. Just in the name of maintaining his power, no matter how many innocent lives he would destroy!
The beast roars and again shakes the hearts and chills the blood of those who heard it. The crowd is probably thankful that none of them are there.
The beast lunges at Elphaba without hesitation in its steps! It is so fast that Elphaba barely dodges the first attack, throwing herself to the side with a dexterity that surprises even herself. The impact of the beast against the ground makes the arena shake and the dust rises in a suffocating cloud. Elphaba rolls on the floor, the handcuffs weighing down her wrists, as her mind struggles to find a solution.
She tries to take a deep breath, but the air is thick with the smell of blood and sweat from the cheering crowd. Her eyes search desperately for anything she can use, anything that might offer her a chance to survive. But the arena was designed for this, to ensure that she was defenseless, to make her death an unforgettable spectacle.
The beast lunges again, and this time Elphaba is unable to avoid the blow. A massive paw catches her in the shoulder, hurling her like a rag doll against the arena wall. Pain explodes in her side, but she bites her lip to keep from screaming. She would not give the Wizard or the crowd that pleasure. Eyes narrowed in pain, she watches the creature approach, and Elphaba straightens up. She gasps, and the world seems to spin.
She is lost, but she will not die here… She cannot die here! Her gaze meets the advancing beast's. All Elphaba sees is fury swimming in those blue eyes. She thinks of Glinda's eyes in their last fight, as blue and furious as those, Glinda's eyes held hurt and spoke of mutual pain. These? They spoke only of savagery. These eyes resembled hers after Fiyero's death, wild and carrying an unbridled hatred for the world. A look that spoke of selfish violence after time and time again the world hurt you when you never did anything against it.
Had the Wizard met his match? Someone he had hurt and pushed so hard that there was nothing left but to hurt the world in return? For her to die with the memory of the woman she had loved and hurt so much and who had hurt her in return? To die at the hands of someone who understood her?
Elphaba tried to push away thoughts of Glinda and the eyes of the approaching creature. It was a terrible time to be consumed by memories, but the connections in her mind seemed inevitable. With a ground-shaking lunge, the beast gave no quarter. The roar it let out was so deep it seemed to vibrate her bones, bringing forth a new wave of fear that she fought to keep hidden.
As the creature lunged forward once more, Elphaba used all her remaining strength to throw herself aside, narrowly escaping being crushed. Dust billowed up, obscuring the view of the crowd and creating a curtain between her and her tormentor. For a moment, it was as if she were alone in the space, just her and the beast.
But it wasn't.
She could feel the eyes—not just of the creature in front of her, but of every person in that arena, fixated on her. And perhaps, somewhere far away or hidden, Glinda's eyes.
Sweet Oz, she has to stop thinking about Glinda. She doesn't want to die with Glinda being her last thought. That wouldn't be bad, but she doesn't want to stain Glinda's memory with her final trauma. She's tired of fighting, of running away, but she won't give the Wizard the pleasure of seeing her give up without a fight one last time!
The beast haunts Elphaba, who watches the creature back, looking for some way or weak point to buy some more time to survive. The beast is large and burly, claws that can easily tear someone apart. The creature is also agile.
Elphaba’s gaze runs over the creature and something clicks. She looks at the manacle links that bind its hands and its magic. There are some small stones on the ground…
A smile crosses Elphaba's face, a smile she's sure is feral. She also knows that her eyes hold that same gleam of mania mixed with despair. Okay, maybe she's going a little crazy, but in her defense, she's very close to death.
Elphaba keeps her eyes fixed on the monster as her fingers touch the rough ground, slowly closing around a few pebbles. The soft clink of the handcuffs is inevitable and the beast tilts its head, eyes fixed on her with predatory curiosity. As if it were analyzing Elphaba's movements, assessing whether she was a threat or just acting on reflex like any other cornered prey.
Well, the blond kitten is going to be disappointed, because Elphaba is not just any prey. She will be that damn monster's nightmare.
“Hey, big guy!” Elphaba yells as she throws one of the pebbles at the massive beast. The stone hits the creature’s snout, and it shakes its head in annoyance. It growls and takes a step forward. Elphaba can see all of the beast’s rows of sharp teeth. Her heart races in her chest.
Elphaba takes a step back, barely able to contain the adrenaline coursing through her body.
“COME GET ME!”
The beast roars in fury and once again lunges for its prey! Elphaba's heart leaps into her throat as she jerks to the side, rolling beneath the beast's massive body. The roar reverberates in her bones. The beast slams hard into one of the arena walls. The impact sends a dozen falling boulders flying, a cloud of dust, and for a moment the beast staggers in a daze. That's it!
Elphaba runs up to the monster and jumps on its back. The beast tries to shake Elphaba off of him, but the witch holds on tight to the beast's strangely soft fur.
The beast continues to thrash and jump from side to side in an attempt to get her to let go, but Elphaba is nothing but stubborn, even as the beast spreads its wings and takes flight toward the arena audience.
“So many emotions, aren’t they, my dears?” says the Magician, trying to calm the audience. “But don’t be afraid, you are safe. She won’t hurt any of you.”
They are terrified. No one predicted that the damned beast could fly towards them. Now Elphaba has to hold on tighter to its fur. The beast starts to climb higher and higher and higher until the arena is no longer a distant point on the ground.
Even so, Elphaba can still hear the crowd scream in a mixture of excitement and fear below.
“She actually loves you, my dears.”
What is that crazy old man raving about now?
Elphaba takes a deep breath, ignoring the fierce wind and dizzying height. She adjusts her hands, feeling the weight of the shackles pressing against her wrists. Her plan is, in short, delusional. Suicidal describes it well. But she has to try.
The Beast raises its neck ready to let out another thunderous roar and Elphaba sees the perfect moment. Without thinking much, she simply throws the chains like a rope, trying to wrap around the creature's neck. It is a risky move, but well calculated. Almost perfect.
Almost is the key word because she misses by a hair's breadth and ends up with the chains inside the beast's mouth that roars in pain and shakes Elphaba, trying to free herself from the grip that gets tighter as Elphaba tries to avoid falling to her death.
The furious beast flaps its powerful wings as it soars higher and higher into the sky. Elphaba feels the adrenaline rush through her body and the blood in her ear drowns out the howl of the wind.
The creature roars once more and its powerful jaws lock on the chain and it snaps as if it were made of wet paper.
Elphaba feels the familiar sting of magic return to her, vibrant, intense, like an electric shock!
But she doesn't have time to think and feel this sensation because the chains were also the only thing keeping her on the flying beast's back. Sweet Oz, she's not defying gravity here, now she's being dragged by it!
She is falling, she is falling too fast. She needs to think of something, because bowing to death is not an option today. Not out of determination or hope. On any other day, she would have all of this, but on days like today, she stays alive for only one reason: she will not give the Wizard that pleasure. If she dies, let her die at the hands of a friend or herself, not in front of the Wizard and the people of Oz, not in the clutches of someone who did not even remember or know who she was.
She continues to fall and the beast dives through the air, coming towards her with its huge paws and claws extended towards her. Elphaba stares into those furious, yet so blue eyes. Elphaba gets lost in them for a moment…
“There is nothing to fear, people of Oz…”
The eyes that haunt her in her nightmares and dreams, the eyes that she swore were watching from the box next to the magician.
“You have nothing to fear…”
Those eyes so stupidly bright, those eyes that always saw the whole truth beneath his impenetrable armor, those eyes so betrayed, so loving, so…
“Elphie.”
Horror settles in his chest.
"No…"
Fear eats away like acid in your stomach
“But it can’t be.”
The gentle touch of a long-unheard, phantom laugh touches your ears.
“The Wizard wouldn’t be so cruel…!”
The furious roaring beast.
“It wouldn’t be.”
She prayed that the Wizard would prove himself, just once, to be a good man.
“...do not fear our beloved…”
The touch of the wind mixes with the gentle touch of the past.
“...Glinda.”