kpwu
long
tale

Dear William,

Everything is well. The garden is as lovely as ever, though in your absence i do not see much of a point to dwell in it. Everyday I take care of it, forever awaiting your return, though I know this is a false hope. What a strange organ the human heart is, that despite knowing the lying nature of this hope I cling to it.

On every morning, I look at the southern sky, hoping to see a flash of light, to catch a glimpse of the arena as it crosses the skies. But I know this is impossible, the construct floating so high above the earth that nothing can leave it unscathed, not even its shadow.

You ask me to cook plentiful meals, but all I can manage to make is simple bread and oat porridge. Without another to share my meal, it feels meaningless to pour effort into something that can be resolved so easily. There is no more pleasure in this house, the walls gray and the windows tainted. Even the flowers outside seem to mourn in the sun, basking only as it is the only thing they know, but still breathlessly awaiting a never-coming return.

I hope all goes well. I hope that She deep within the earth realizes the foolishness of her actions, and waivers all of these spells and enchantments. What a strange organ the heart is...

Longingly, Frederick.