A low rumble from outside the abandoned tavern alerted Glinda to brewing trouble. She hadn't been able to sleep most of the night, and as the horses shifted nervously about, it became apparent that something was wrong.
Having sat with her back against the door, she stood drawing her blade and peering out the cracks of a boarded up window. A flickering shadowy shape was sniffing about outside, it's pale white eyes flicking about nervously. Glinda hadn't seen this type of Nightmare before. It was winged, with tendrils radiating down its spine. The abomination was fanged with the face of a lion and the arms and legs of a man.
To the left and right were two more. Whatever they were searching for was important by the way they scoured the ground and air for some form of a scent. For a moment, the blonde got a sneaking suspicion that they were hunting her. Swallowing tightly, she retreated from the window and stood ready to strike.
All she had to do was wait for the sun to come up and the Nightmares would evaporate. Tense from head to toe, the blonde refused to move for many hours. Her blue eyes were fixed upon the wooden door, ready for any sign of a fight. She inspected the bandage on her arm, making sure there was no chance a drop of blood would escape and alert the Nightmares to her being prey.
"What's going on?" Elpheba whispered, hesitantly making her way to the window where she too peeled outside. "Are those the Nightmares you spoke of?"
Glinda gave a silent nod, noticing the thin beam of sunlight seeping through the cracks of the door. She relaxed at the sight of it, carefully sheathing her weapon. "They'll be gone in half an hour's time."
"They're hideous," Elpheba shivered.
"Indeed," Glinda sighed, feeling the weight of her exhaustion finally settle in. "But they don't stay during daylight. That's when the monsters roam."
"So Morpheus has a way to terrorize you in morning and night?" Elpheba glowered. Everything she'd ever head about Morpheus being the "friendly sleeper" was slowly being stripped away. He himself was becoming a terror.
"They reach as far as the Emerald City," Glinda explained, carefully guiding Bubbles and Charlotte to the door. "My scouts haven't been able to find a Den yet."
"Dens?" The witch asked.
"More like a spawning pit," Glinda informed. "We need to determine where they come from and eliminate it."
"Do you have any idea where Morpheus himself is?"
"Not a clue. Some suspect he resides in the fields of Asphodel where sleeping souls await." The blonde hesitantly opened the tavern door and scanned her surroundings for a threat. When none was identified, she guided the two horses outside. "I have a theory that he transforms the sleeping souls into his creatures."
"That would make sense," Elpheba agreed, still only able to saddle up with a bit of help from the blonde. "But what's his end goal?"
"I do not know," Glinda admitted, "but Genevieve speculates Morpheus has a desire to return the world to a Great Sleep."
"The hundred year slumber," Elpheba muttered.
"To terrorize people in their dreams and lock them in his realm of unreality." After climbing onto Bubbles' back, Glinda set off at a slow pace. There was no sense in burning the two horses out so early on in their journey. "Of course, it can be avoided if we lull him to sleep once more but...that's a complicated matter. One has to obtain the Lyre of Somnus."
"I thought the Lyre was destroyed the last time Morpheus awoke," Elpheba frowned, glancing in Glinda's direction. The Blonde looked impossibly tired. Dark circles framed her eyes, and her skin was even more pale than before.
"That's what we thought too," Glinda sighed, "until we heard rumors of its return. If anything, Morpheus himself has it."
Silence settled between the two women as they rode on. Glinda seemed too worn out to carry on the conversation, and Elpheba didn't feel like pressing the matter any further but it amazed her how out of touch she was with what was going on. It seemed that Morpheus had no interest in the perimeter of Oz. All this time she'd been safe while Glinda was fighting an unimaginable force.
"Glinda?" The witch asked, nothing the blonde's slumped shoulders and trembling hands.
"Yeah?"
"You're pretty incredible, you know that right?" Elpheba asked, her brow furrowed in sincerity.
"I am," The blonde smiled slightly, her golden curls refracting the morning sun.
— — —
A gentle breeze guided the two friends along the road. It ruffled Elpheba's hair and whispered secrets to her if she cared to listen. Over the past few miles of their journey, the witch had watched Glinda slowly fall asleep in the saddle. Amused to say the least, Elpheba rode beside the blonde keeping a hand on her at all times to ensure she didn't fall off of Bubbles.
If it took the sun to come up for Glinda to rest, so be it. As long as she was taking care of herself that's all that mattered to Elpheba. Sure, it was strange seeing the once unblemished cheery girl now battle worn and hardened. To be quite honest, it hurt. To Elpheba it seemed that Glinda had lost a special sort of innocence about herself. That naive little mind of hers was no longer there.
She couldn't see the world as a wide expanse of hope and adventure anymore. Unfortunately for the blonde, she was left to watch it grow dark, dangerous, and deadly. To Elpheba that's all the world had ever been. She'd been born and raised thinking everyone was out to get her. She never got to be hopeful and naive. Not until she'd met Glinda, and those months together were the best of her life only they weren't meant to last.
Sighing, the witch hummed a light tube to herself, the peace and quiet unfamiliar to her. She'd grown used to loud arguments and rambunctious fighting over the past year. Back home in her quaint little cottage it was always herself or Fiyero raising their voice. Of course, there was the study that Elpheba often retreated into, but it wasn't somewhere he couldn't intrude upon.
In fact, the witch couldn't picture the last time he had even bothered to go looking for her when she disappeared for the day. Maybe that was for the best. She needed her time alone after such arguments. To her, she couldn't understand why he was so angry. He was alive! If she hadn't saved him all those years ago he would be dead. And it wasn't like she wasn't trying to fix her mistake. She was doing her best, but now it seemed that Fiyero would much rather be dead than put up with her incessant failures.
"You're sad."
Glinda's gentle voice broke the witch's thoughts, and she realized how much time had passed.
"I'm thinking about home," Elpheba admitted.
"Home isn't supposed to upset you, you know," the blonde noted, her shirt slumber having refreshed her. Her skin had a bit of life restored in it and the dark circles beneath her eyes were no longer so harsh.
"Home has always been an upsetting place for me," Elpheba replied, nervously adjusting her hat. "A quiet home is a bad home."
Glinda couldn't hide the look of concern on her face. There were times she forgot how severely different Elpheba's upbringing was from her own. A quiet home meant angry parents or angry loved ones. It was silence to her that had become violent.,
"Is it really that bad?" The blonde asked at last. "Has he changed that much?"
"Within the past year, yes." Elpheba nodded, swallowing tightly.
"Why do you stay?" Glinda frowned, adjusting her grip on Bubbles' reins.
"Where would I go?" The witch snorted, shaking her head in dismay. "Besides, I love him. It's just a moment in time where we have to work through some things. He was the only person to love me, I owe it to him-"
"You're wrong." The blonde's words were hatch and abrasive. She seemed surprised by her own outburst and was quick to turn away.
"What do you mean?"
"You don't owe him anything," Glinda sighed, having taken a moment to compose herself. "Love isn't about owing people things. It's about compromise and understanding."
"What would you know of that?" Elpheba laughed, arching a brow.
Her amusement was not shared by the knight.
"I know a lot more than you think," Glinda frowned, swallowing tightly. "It just so happens that the things I tend to care about often go away. They never really come back."
With that, the knight spurred Bubbles forward, no longer eager to hold a conversation with the witch. While Elpheba tagged along behind, it occurred to her how harsh her words must have been. She didn't mean to be so callous to her old friend, but things were different now. Strange, even, and she wasn't sure how to navigate it. Hopefully, with time, things would get better.