The Jester of OZ

Chapter Eighteen

            The Jester had awoken a little earlier than usual. The sun wasn't even up yet, and Amber was still fast asleep beside him. Her curly hair was in a tangled mess behind her, and just like he had noticed days prior, she slept with a soft grin on her face. He didn't know what she was dreaming about, but he was glad to see that she was no longer having nightmares. It was relieving, really. Conquering OZ wasn't an easy feat, yet he had managed to do it and as a bonus- he got to keep her. Now that everything on his check list was fulfilled, he felt a giant wave of accomplishment wash over him. It was one of the most wonderful feelings he had ever experienced. He was sure that she was the reason why he felt so complete. Confessing his love, his ultimate weakness, to her was equivalent to lifting a heavy weight off his chest.

But still, he could've sworn it was a sound that had awoken him. Turning over onto his back, he glanced around the room to find the source. It was slightly dark, with only a few alit candles to guide his eyes. His eyes fell upon the scepter, which was leaning against the wall beside the bed. It was glowing slightly, but something felt different about it. He yawned and did his best to approach it without waking Amber. When he was able to grasp it, he looked into the glass orb expecting to see nothing except the usual swirl of colors. To his dismay, the scepter glowed and sizzled slightly, becoming hot to the touch. He inhaled deeply, eyes narrowing at the magic's reaction. The last time the scepter did this, it was when Amber had first arrived in OZ. The idea that something big was about to happen crossed his mind. It made him nervous. What more needed to happen? He was perfectly happy! Therefore, whatever the Scepter was trying to tell him wouldn't be good news. Deciding that he didn't want to wake her up, he stood from the bed and pulled the top part of his costume back over his head. He pushed a few strands of his ginger hair back into it before silently making his way out of the room. Upon entering the silent corridor, he whispered to it, "Show me what you know, show me my greatest foe." The scepter continued to radiate with heat, green light spilling from its glass confinement before a purple beam of light spun out of it. There, in the center of the sphere, it obeyed his command. Beneath the tinted glass, a moving image began to form.

"We've arrived, your highness!" A small voice echoed from the scepter, narrating what the Jester was looking at. He could faintly make out the image of a large boat headed down a river. But that wasn't what made his heart stop, it was the fact that there, standing perfectly fine and dandy, were the Scarecrow, Tinman, Lion, and those two imbeciles he had imprisoned! "Good, let's hurry!" Another voice answered. Several questions echoed his head as rage filled him from head to toe. How in all of OZ did they break their curses?! How did those fools escape?! They couldn't have done it alone... unless... He looked up from the Scepter, eyes gazing down the hall passed all the soldiers. At the end of it, in the very corner of the hallway, stood Atticus with a blank expression. The soldier didn't move, but his dark eyes were teary and afraid. Even though he feared for his life, he said nothing. He only stood, trying to remain strong as the Jester glared at him. "You... You filthy little TRAITOR!!!! YOU HELPED THEM ESCAPE!"

"I did what was right." Atticus replied, trying to shield his quivering voice. The Jester growled at him, marching over with a sinister frown. "YOU SNEAKY LITTLE CONSPIRATOR! How dare you?! HOW DARE YOU BETRAY ME!" Using the scepter, he blasted Atticus with a sharp burst of magic, causing him to slam against the wall and fall to his knees. His hat was knocked off him, and his gloved hands did their best to catch the fall. He cried out, but made no effort to fight back. Instead, his next words were chosen carefully. "... You... are not... a leader... worth serving." Atticus panted, trying to regain the air that got knocked out of him. Returning the glare, he looked up at the Jester, whom was standing over him. Again, he unleashed the power of the scepter, thrashing Atticus back down to the floor. Coughing, the soldier tried to collect himself as the Jester taunted, "Care to repeat that, hero?! Or should I just end you now? I wonder just how you'll look when you're added to my little collection..." He referred to the puppets that were already imprisoned. Atticus coughed and attempted to stand. The Jester watched him do so, making sure he wouldn't try anything funny. "Y-You aren't worth serving... You're just like her! You're just like the Wicked Witch! Why can't you let it go?! What's Amber going to do once she finds out you never set the Scarecrow free of his curse?! What's she going to say when she finds out you decided to make me a puppet?" Atticus said boldly, ignoring the fear bubbling inside his chest. Once on his feet again, he leaned against one of the nearby columns.