Chapter Five

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"I already told you, I am Amber! I am Dorothy's granddaughter! What's happened to you? What's happened to the city? How did the Jester manage to corrupt everyone?!" Amber questioned loudly, unable to hold back her worry any longer. She approached Scarecrow swiftly, looking into his dull eyes while he stared at her blankly. "Forgive me... there's too much. He's taken my thoughts and turned them against me. Dorothy, why didn't you come sooner? Why didn't you come sooner?" He questioned, hands shaking. Amber could hear the straw inside him churn, almost as if he was sick on the inside. "I'm not Dorothy! I'm Amber! Keep talking, what happened here?" She wouldn't give up. Her hands gripped the Scarecrow's soft palms, waiting for him to answer. Impatience boiled within her, but it subsided when he opened his mouth again. "The Jester took the witch's broomstick, he turned it into a scepter of dark magic, the magic that harmed me, the magic that won't let me sleep, the magic that turned Tinman into a crying machine and Lion into a beast!!!" The Scarecrow cried out, as if something had hurt him. "AAGH! He's in my mind!" He ripped away his hand from hers to grip his head. Amber stared at him, unsure of what to do. When he looked up again, he blinked once, then twice.

"D-Dorothy? Dorothy Gale? Is that you?" His voice repeated yet again. Realizing she wouldn't be able to get anywhere by telling him the truth, Amber decided to do something risky. Besides, he'd probably snap and forget their conversation in the next five minutes if she did tell him who she really was again. With a deep breath, she said, "Yes, it's me. I am Dorothy." Her words caused his eyes to tear up. "Where were you?! I needed you! OZ needed you! I'm thinking too much, I can't even tell you how much I loved you!" He cried. Amber now felt guilty about lying, and a little uncomfortable now that she had stirred up some emotional past of his. "Calm down, I need to know how I can help you. If I can't, I need to know how I can get home! You're smart, aren't you? You must have some idea!" Amber pushed him for an answer that wasn't just mumbling. The Scarecrow stared at the floor for a moment, lips moving at a quick pace as if he was mouthing words that didn't exist. His straw body jolted again, as if awakening for the millionth time. He blinked rapidly before saying, "He's watching us, he knows you're here... he knows I'm hurting, he wants to capture you..." His head suddenly stopped swaying. Amber watched him, confused more than ever. She felt an unimaginable amount of pity for him. He just wasn't the same Scarecrow that Grandma Dorothy had loved, and he certainly was in no shape to help her get home. As much as she wanted to leave the room and run back outside to take her chances with the Lion, she couldn't find it in her heart to do so. She felt she had to milk as much information out of the Scarecrow as possible.

Even if she did find a way back to Kansas, what would happen to him? What would happen to OZ? It made her want to cry when she realized she couldn't leave the citizens of this once beautiful world to suffer. What was once a selfish mission now became something greater. She couldn't believe she was saying it, but the words came out of her mouth easier than she thought they would. "Where can I find the Jester?"

"The Witch's castle, through the forest, past the rocks, and into the fire, into the danger, into the dire wager, towards the laughing stranger." Scarecrow spoke, at first sounding like complete gibberish again. However, something about the last phrase sparked an interest in her like never before. The Jester... was he the laughter in her dreams? It certainly was possible. "Alright, where's this forest then? Can you tell me that?" She asked. "North west, past the gate... please stay. I can't lose you... not again, not ever... please... please." The Scarecrow slid out of the throne, landing sloppily on his knees in front of her, grabbing her hands as if they were his only lifeline. Amber knew that this had gone too far already. It felt horrible to hear his pleas, the pleas that weren't meant for her. "I... I'm not Dorothy." She said, feeling a loss for words. Saying it this time, it felt disappointing. At this moment, she wished she was Dorothy more than anyone else in the world. Why did she have to be Amber? Why did she have to be lost when everyone else already knew the way? The Scarecrow looked at her, emotion draining from his face as he let go of her fingers. Slowly, he crawled back onto his throne, shaking. The straw inside him crackled softly as he did so. "Dorothy... Dorothy why?" His voice shivered as he closed his eyes.

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