Liir stopped in the midst of the small meadow, certain that he had lost the soldiers who had previously been on his heels. He stooped down and gently plopped the little bundle into the long, flowing grass. The bundle writhed out of its coverage and Rain began rolling around; her green skin camouflaging flawlessly.

Reaching out, Liir picked up the rough fabric that Rain had tossed aside and held it between two fingers. There was no other way to hide her skin, but he hated having to incarcerate his daughter's childhood in darkness. Every child deserved a childhood, but not every child got one.

He hadn't. Or at least he was almost certain he hadn't. Maybe childhood was supposed to incorporate a little suffering...and lots of uncertainty. In that case, maybe Liir had never really grown up. But he couldn't decide what was worse. Having no childhood or having it stolen from you. Nor's childhood had been stolen. Rain's was in the process.

And then there were his own parents. His, oh so dear, "mother" and "father." In most ways, this whole mess could be traced back to them. With no Elphaba and Fiyero there would be no Liir and with no Liir; no Rain. Then no one suffers. No one melts. No one mourns the melted.

Behind him, Rain cooed as she attempted to chew the edge of the Grimmerie. Liir quickly pulled it out of her weak grasp and set it in front of him. He looked down at the big, gritty volume. Whenever it was in front of him he was always tempted to open it; to decipher some of its secrets.

Carefully, Liir stuck his thumb under the cover and forced the book open. Sometimes it seemed the book had more will than he did. The first page was a jumbled mess and Liir decided not to bother. The next few pages were the same. Finally, and to his surprise, Liir stumbled upon a page he could read slightly. Or at least a few of the words.

To call the lost forward.

Liir had lost so much he didn't know what the line could possibly pertain to. Still, he managed to read a few more words. When he finished he ran the tip of a finger across the remaining words. Nothing happened at first, but soon the trees rustled and the wind blew stronger across the empty meadow.

Instinctively, Liir moved closer to Rain. He had to be ready to run if something was coming and he just had that feeling. It was giving him chills. But then again, it might just be a side effect of spending too much time with the Cowardly Lion. However, that was invalid. He had also spent time among the brave. Elphaba, Nor, Dorothy, Candle and especially Trism.

"You mustn't waste too much time thinking about Trism when there's work to do."

Liir was so distraught that his thoughts were being thought out in Elphaba's voice.

"Don't be an idiot, I'm right here."

Liir froze. That definitely hadn't been his brain. He swivelled around and looked behind him.

"Nope. We're here!...Now we're over here!"

Looking around everywhere he could, Liir even stared across the meadow so far that the edges of the trees blurred together. That one hadn't been Elphaba's voice. It had been a man's.

"Really Fiyero, we aren't here to play games. Now I may not have been a very good parent, but I do know that by the age of thirty your child doesn't want to play hide and seek anymore."

"I was only trying to break a stereotype. Everyone seems to believe the dead are serious."

Finally able to pinpoint the drift of the voices, Liir stayed in his spot and focused his eyes straight forward. But he had to rub them to make sure. He was certain he had seen the flickering outline of two figures. What a fluke. Was everything out to mock him today, or was he just going insane?

"We're really here. Would you please pay attention?" Elphaba's voice snapped. It was obviously her. If only he could look harder.

Liir tried again, really focusing his attention. The figures were becoming bolder. There was indeed two. A man and a woman. The woman had her arms curled protectively around the man's waist. It was undeniable. Despite the transparent effect of the sun, her skin was tinged green. She seemed to have a keen interest in Rain, who hadn't noticed her arrival.

"What are you doing here?" Liir cried out.

"What do you mean?" Elphaba retorted, "You called us!"

Liir nearly screamed. He was talking to it. That thing...in front of him. He lurched backward and the images...holograms...whatever they were flickered.

"Easy there," The man, who must be Fiyero, warned, "You're the one holding us here." Liir took the time to really look at him. He was handsome, Liir had to admit. It was a pity Liir had had to take after Elphaba. He was able to recognize all of the features that had been divided up between Irji, Manek and Nor. And of course, the Oz renowned diamond tattoos displayed by the shirt that was so conveniently open at the neck.

"It's like Lurline. You've got to believe in the power of magic," Elphaba teased sarcastically.

Now Liir looked at them both together. They were the young couple he had seen in Elphaba's crystal ball. This was the Elphaba that was still capable of love.

"Ouch," Elphaba said sarcastically. "Not capable of love? You sound like my father."

Liir's jaw dropped. "You heard me?"

"Your thoughts aren't all that quiet...or guarded for that matter."

"And thank you for the compliment," Fiyero added, "Even after death, you still want to be remembered as a good-looking man."

It was so odd. Part of Liir just wished they'd vanish, so he wouldn't have to face them. He didn't know how. He'd never had parents before.

"Having parents isn't all that hard," Fiyero said comfortingly. He stepped forward and Elphaba moved with him. She never unlocked her arms and she had an intensely defensive look in her eyes. Fiyero seemed not to notice, as if he was used to it. He held out a hand to Liir. "I don't think we've ever been formally introduced. I'm Fiyero, your- err...father."

Now what was he supposed to do? Shake the hand of a dead man? That seemed like some kind of omen.

"You have been around the Cowardly Lion too much," Elphaba mocked. "Yes, you can shake hands with a dead person. Utterly hopeless," She muttered.

Liir extended his hand and Fiyero grasped it and shook it. His arm was moving, but all Liir could feel was a cold embrace, like his hand had been dunked underwater. Glancing at Elphaba, Liir said, "I don't suppose you want to shake my hand."

"Have you been reading my mind?" She laughed cruelly.

"No, I never could," Liir countered, "And that's why I could never wrap my head around your lack of any motherly feeling." He saw Elphaba tense and Fiyero squeeze her shoulder lovingly.

Elphaba looked like she had a mouthful to throw at Liir, but it was Fiyero who answered, "Not everyone is cut out to be a parent." His gaze was trained on Rain.

"I wonder," Elphaba said quietly, "If the Thropp line will ever have one whole family."

"Can't you tell?" Liir asked stupidly.

"Just because we're dead doesn't mean we can see into the future!"

Sorry I asked, Liir thought.

"Is there a reason you called us, Liir?" Fiyero asked gently. "I'm afraid we don't have much longer."

"I suppose I was just hoping for some kind of guidance...but I don't know if you can help me as much as I initially thought," Liir replied honestly. They weren't parents in life and didn't seem to be in death either.

"You never know until you try."

"Alright, fine." Liir looked around for some kind of inspiration. His eyes settled on Rain. Elphaba and Fiyero seemed to catch the drift. They turned to each other and deliberated with their eyes.

"Well, who are we to tell you how to raise your child?" Elphaba said. "But if you're desperate enough we might know someone who can help."

Liir's hopes rose slightly.

Fiyero cleared his throat. "Are you familiar with one Lady Glinda Chuffrey of Mockbeggar Hall; of the Upper Uplands of the Arduennas; former Ozian throne minister?"

Another question popped into Liir's mind. Fiyero must have seen it because the playful look was replaced by an expression of pain that flashed across his face. "Nor will find you if it is meant to be. But she is coping."

"Aren't we all?" Elphaba joked.

Liir directed his next question to Fiyero as well. "And your family? Where are they?"

"We haven't found them yet," Fiyero admitted, "Or they haven't found us."

"What do you mean found-"

But Elphaba stood up straighter and interrupted him, "The soldiers are almost here."

Jumping up quickly, Liir threw the hood over Rain and gathered her into his arms, despite her mild protests. He tucked the Grimmerie under his elbow and readied to leave without another word. He had nothing more to say to them.

"And Liir," Fiyero said softly, "We're proud of you."

Liir looked at his father. Really looked into the blue eyes and found that the remark was sincere. He looked to Elphaba who nodded solemnly.

Maybe it had recalled that lost child forward, but either way, Liir was certain that something inside of him lifted; moved on. He looked back one last time and Fiyero nodded, one hand raised in farewell.

Once he made it safely out of the meadow and into the shelter of the forest, Liir set Rain down and looked through the branches at the spot where his parents had been and were no longer. That was something private; something that couldn't be shared with anyone. Whether he had found that ridiculous, imaginary, useless, depressing or uplifting it had been something between parents and their son and it could not be changed. And it didn't hurt to know that wherever they were, they were well aware of what was going on in his life. What a nice feeling, he thought.

The leaves around him rustled in reply, so Liir picked up Rain and set off again.