Elphaba scario's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Elphaba Scario drifted through the gray corridors of Tartarus, her form neither solid nor smoke but something in between. The dead did not walk here. They floated, aimless, stripped of purpose. But she had purpose. The ruby slippers existed somewhere beyond this prison of ghosts, worn by a girl who didn't understand their power. But something shifted. A tug at the edges of her being, sharp and sudden. She felt the world above pull at her, like a door cracking open. The living realm was calling her back. Elphaba pressed toward the sensation, testing its strength. Yes. She could reach through now. Not fully, not yet, but enough to touch things. Enough to be seen. Glinda Cyclonia stood in the orchard of twisted apple trees, studying the mirror embedded in the trunk before her. The glass showed more than reflections. It showed disturbances. Shadows where none should exist. She watched a dark form creep across the surface, moving past an abandoned metal house at the orchard's edge. Elphaba's ghost was bleeding back into the world. Glinda's hand tightened on her wand. She could warn Dorothy. Tell her the danger was returning. Or she could wait. Let Elphaba reveal herself. Use that moment to finally understand what the witch truly wanted. Glinda turned from the mirror and walked deeper into the orchard. She would not warn Dorothy. Not yet. Knowledge was power, and Elphaba's return gave her something neither witch nor girl possessed: time to prepare. The slippers would stay exactly where they were, and Glinda would be watching when Elphaba made her move.