No One Mourns the Wicked

Stealing, lying, and caring for yourself were the key principles on the Isle of the Lost. Following these were the best ways to survive-it was the only way to survive. But Euphemia Thropp was the sole exception to these principles.

Perhaps it was the cruel treatment of those around her that prevented her from bringing about that kind of suffering on her own daughter. But Elphaba Thropp raised her only daughter with the full knowledge of the world around her, and how it would view them.

Euphemia wasn't coddled by her mother, but rather trained to survive and possess a cynical, yet honest, view of authority. Elphaba taught her daughter that being bad was sometimes necessary for survival.

A somewhat sheltered upbringing, with nothing but aged, tattered textbooks and chronicles from her mother's own time in school, and the notes that she'd written while in Oz, made for a young prodigy, someone to mold into a villain far greater than any other in the history of the known world.

Elphaba was sure to nurture this, turn little Euphemia Thropp's ingenious nature into a weapon for her to wield.

Uma was next, with the two not quite friends, but not quite enemies.

Their relationship was strictly business, with Uma granting Euphemia a cut of each heist that she assisted.

But nothing, not even her own mother's lessons, could prepare her for the journey that lay across the great ocean, in the land of Auradon, from where all villains had been banished two decades prior.

A Royal summons with her name on it was issued, and against her will, Euphemia was dragged from her small cobblestone home in the highest, driest part of the Isle and forced into a van, shackled to her fate with no say in the outcome.