Chapter Twenty

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            The Jester watched his magic unfold before him with an emotion he couldn't describe. He thought he'd be angry, but instead something different filled the void inside him. He expected Amber to go and reunite with the others. What he didn't expect was for her to remain standing there. She looked at him with an expression that was both thankful yet saddened. Slowly, she lowered Glinda's wand and dropped it to the floor. Everyone, now fully recovered, heard the clank before gazing over at the two. The Jester stared right back at them and said, "What are you looking at? The show is over- LEAVE before I change my mind." He looked at Amber, then down at her shoes that still sparkled in the spotlight. "You've found my weakness...I should've known..." When he fell silent again, he picked up the broomstick of the Wicked Witch, which was now only a staff for walking without its powerful orb to control it. He looked at Amber, more tempted than ever to take her hand and pull her close. He wanted to hold her and never let go. But when he looked into her gorgeous eyes, he could see how distraught she was. It was too much to bear when he yearned for her kiss. Amber didn't want him to leave, but as he began to walk away, she felt that it was too late. "You're free, now get out of my sight." He told her. Glinda stood in front of everyone, a soft concerning look dawning over her face. She made her way over to Amber and picked up her wand. But Amber couldn't stand being silent any longer. "Dexter, wait... you don't have to-"

"YES I DO!" His outburst caught everyone off guard. "You chose them over me! SO JUST GO! GO AND LEAVE ME! I've already made a fool out of myself, there's nothing more to laugh at... I'd keep you forever if I could, but you know something, dollface? I'm. Not. Wicked." The tears in his eyes began to fall. Amber hadn't seen him cry before. It felt groundbreaking and new, almost as if she was seeing him for the first time for what he truly was.

"I knew your sister all too well, Dexter." Glinda's maternal voice cut through the crowd. Amber turned her head to look at the taller woman. Her skin was pale, and her gown had flecks of sliver that looked equivalent to freshly fallen snow with puffy sleeves and a wide skirt. Her hair was lighter red, much lighter than the Jester's to where it was almost blonde, and her eyes were a brilliant shade of blue. Not only did she look magical, but her entire aura seemed to glow wherever she went. It was as if she were a walking night-light. Amber knew it sounded crazy, but the Good Witch of the North reminded her of her mother when she spoke. Even though she didn't remember much about her mother, she had a feeling Glinda looked fairly close. "The curse she placed upon you isn't permanent, for you've always had the power to reverse it. You didn't need the scepter." She revealed, placing a hand on Amber's shoulder as if to comfort her. The Jester glared at Glinda, "Poppycock! You're a liar! I've tried every spell in every book, if I had the power to reverse it- I would've done it a VERY long time ago!" He pointed a finger at her, scolding the information she fed him. "The only reason you weren't able to succeed was because in order to change yourself, you have to change what's inside you first. If all that's inside you is wickedness and the desire for vengeance, then change won't come easily. But now," Glinda looked at Amber, "You have someone that's given you love, the most powerful change of all. It's your choice if you want to accept it. For power is not greater than love, love is power." Her guidance made Amber feel like she underestimated Glinda's wisdom back when she was small. Grandma Dorothy always said that each word the good witch spoke had a powerful message.

"What?" He breathed, having a hard time understanding. "She's not wrong..." Amber stepped towards him, "I understand you, Dexter. I know how hard it is to let go of the past, to forgive those that either hurt you or ignored your side of the story. All I ask is that you give them a chance. Just because one horrible person had the nerve to make fun of who you are doesn't mean that there aren't any smart, compassionate, and brave people out there waiting. Deep down, I know what you want. I know you want to be happy, and I know you want to feel complete- but being the ruler of OZ won't fulfil that wish on its own. The Wicked Witch would've wanted you to be just as evil, she would've wanted you to have the same unhappy ending as her. You have to realize that! You need to trust me." She held out her hand for him to take, almost mirroring the moment when they first met. Only this time, the roles were reversed. He looked at her hand, then down at his own where he held his sister's broomstick. He thought about all those days he had been trapped in his room, forced to be the clown for what felt like eternity. Every day, he remembered trying to entertain. He grew so tired of entertaining he yearned more than anything to take this relic, this piece of wood so that he could regain his dignity. He remembered fantasizing about what it would've been like if he was the master, the ruler, the king, the leader. "I know there's good inside your heart." Amber continued, "If anyone deserves a happy ending, it's you."

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