A Letter by the Lake

Maggie was sitting on the shore of the great lake, her mother's last letter clutched in her hand. She wanted to be alone to read it, there was to much noise in the castle. She wanted to open it in a quiet moment, a moment where the letter wouldn't be tossed aside after a quick read through, rejected for some passing distraction.

She carefully broke the wax seal, pulling out the letter with care. She ran her hand over the page, relishing in the indents of her cramped, swirly writing. She took in the scent of fresh parchment mixed with the smell of the sea from the lake before beginning to read.
๐““๐“ฎ๐“ช๐“ป ๐“œ๐“ช๐“ฐ๐“ฐ๐“ฒ๐“ฎ,
๐“ฃ๐“ฑ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ๐“ผ ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฟ๐“ฎ ๐“ซ๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ท ๐“ฐ๐“ธ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐“ผ๐“น๐“ต๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ญ๐“ฒ๐“ญ๐“ต๐”‚ ๐“ช๐“ฝ ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“ผ๐“ฌ๐“ฑ๐“ธ๐“ธ๐“ต ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ๐“ป๐“ฎ, ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ญ ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“ด๐“ฒ๐“ญ๐“ผ ๐“ช๐“ป๐“ฎ ๐“ช๐“ต๐“ต ๐“ญ๐“ธ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐“ฟ๐“ฎ๐“ป๐”‚ ๐”€๐“ฎ๐“ต๐“ต. ๐“˜'๐“ถ ๐“ผ๐“ธ๐“ป๐“ป๐”‚ ๐“˜ ๐“ญ๐“ฒ๐“ญ๐“ท'๐“ฝ ๐“ฐ๐“ฎ๐“ฝ ๐“ซ๐“ช๐“ฌ๐“ด ๐“ฝ๐“ธ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ ๐“ผ๐“ธ๐“ธ๐“ท๐“ฎ๐“ป, ๐“˜ ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฟ๐“ฎ ๐“ซ๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ท ๐“ผ๐“ธ ๐“ช๐”€๐“ฏ๐“พ๐“ต๐“ต๐”‚ ๐“ซ๐“พ๐“ผ๐”‚. ๐“ฃ๐“ฑ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ๐“ผ ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฟ๐“ฎ ๐“ซ๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ท ๐“ผ๐“ธ ๐“ต๐“ธ๐“ท๐“ฎ๐“ต๐”‚ ๐”€๐“ฒ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ๐“ป๐“ฎ ๐“˜'๐“ฟ๐“ฎ ๐“ซ๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ท ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ด๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐“ช๐“ซ๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐“ฐ๐“ฎ๐“ฝ๐“ฝ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐“ช ๐“ฌ๐“ช๐“ฝ!

๐“˜'๐“ถ ๐“ผ๐“ธ ๐“ฐ๐“ต๐“ช๐“ญ ๐“ฝ๐“ธ ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ๐“ช๐“ป ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ๐“ผ ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฟ๐“ฎ ๐“ซ๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ท ๐“ฐ๐“ธ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐”€๐“ฎ๐“ต๐“ต ๐“ฏ๐“ธ๐“ป ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ ๐“ช๐“ฝ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ป ๐“ท๐“ฎ๐”€ ๐“ผ๐“ฌ๐“ฑ๐“ธ๐“ธ๐“ต, ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ญ ๐“˜'๐“ถ ๐“ผ๐“ธ ๐“ฐ๐“ป๐“ช๐“ฝ๐“ฎ๐“ฏ๐“พ๐“ต ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ'๐“ป๐“ฎ ๐“ถ๐“ช๐“ด๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐“ฏ๐“ป๐“ฒ๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ญ๐“ผ. ๐“˜ ๐“ด๐“ท๐“ธ๐”€ ๐“ช๐“ฝ ๐“ฏ๐“ฒ๐“ป๐“ผ๐“ฝ ๐“˜ ๐”€๐“ช๐“ผ ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ๐“ผ๐“ฒ๐“ฝ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ฝ ๐“ช๐“ซ๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐“ผ๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ญ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ ๐“ฝ๐“ธ ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“ผ๐“ฌ๐“ฑ๐“ธ๐“ธ๐“ต, ๐“ซ๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐“ช๐“ผ ๐“ต๐“ธ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐“ช๐“ผ ๐“ฒ๐“ฝ ๐“ถ๐“ช๐“ด๐“ฎ๐“ผ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“น๐“น๐”‚, ๐“˜ ๐”€๐“ฒ๐“ต๐“ต ๐“ช๐“ต๐”€๐“ช๐”‚๐“ผ ๐“ผ๐“พ๐“น๐“น๐“ธ๐“ป๐“ฝ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ. ๐“—๐“ธ๐”€ ๐“ญ๐“ธ ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ๐”‚ ๐“ถ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ช๐“ฐ๐“ฎ ๐“ฝ๐“ธ ๐“ต๐“ฎ๐“ฝ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ ๐“ด๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“น ๐“น๐“ฎ๐“ฝ๐“ผ, ๐“ซ๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐“ท๐“ธ๐“ฝ ๐“ต๐“ฎ๐“ฝ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฟ๐“ฎ ๐“ช๐“ท๐”‚ ๐“ฎ๐“ต๐“ฎ๐“ฌ๐“ฝ๐“ป๐“ฒ๐“ฌ๐“ฝ๐“ป๐“ธ๐“ท๐“ฒ๐“ฌ๐“ผ? ๐“˜๐“ฝ ๐“ผ๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ถ๐“ผ ๐“ผ๐“ธ ๐“ธ๐“ญ๐“ญ. ๐“˜ ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฟ๐“ฎ๐“ท'๐“ฝ ๐“ผ๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ท ๐“ช๐“ท๐”‚ ๐“ถ๐“ธ๐“ฟ๐“ฒ๐“ฎ๐“ผ ๐“ต๐“ช๐“ฝ๐“ฎ๐“ต๐”‚, ๐“ซ๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐“˜'๐“ต๐“ต ๐“ซ๐“ฎ ๐“ผ๐“พ๐“ป๐“ฎ ๐“ฝ๐“ธ ๐”€๐“ป๐“ฒ๐“ฝ๐“ฎ ๐“ฒ๐“ฏ ๐“˜ ๐“ญ๐“ธ. ๐“˜'๐“ถ ๐“ฐ๐“ต๐“ช๐“ญ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ'๐“ป๐“ฎ ๐“ฐ๐“ฎ๐“ฝ๐“ฝ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐“ฐ๐“ธ๐“ธ๐“ญ ๐“ถ๐“ช๐“ป๐“ด๐“ผ, ๐“ซ๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐“ป๐“ฎ๐“ถ๐“ฎ๐“ถ๐“ซ๐“ฎ๐“ป ๐“ฝ๐“ธ ๐“ฝ๐“ช๐“ด๐“ฎ ๐“ฌ๐“ช๐“ป๐“ฎ ๐“ธ๐“ฏ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ป๐“ผ๐“ฎ๐“ต๐“ฏ ๐“ฝ๐“ธ, ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฟ๐“ฎ ๐“ช ๐“ฝ๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ญ๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ฌ๐”‚ ๐“ฝ๐“ธ ๐“ธ๐“ฟ๐“ฎ๐“ป๐”€๐“ธ๐“ป๐“ด.

๐“˜'๐“ต๐“ต ๐“ซ๐“ฎ ๐“ผ๐“พ๐“ป๐“ฎ ๐“ฝ๐“ธ ๐“ผ๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ญ ๐“ธ๐“ฟ๐“ฎ๐“ป ๐“ช ๐“น๐“ช๐“ฒ๐“ป ๐“ธ๐“ฏ ๐“ณ๐“ฎ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ผ ๐”€๐“ฒ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฒ๐“ผ ๐“ต๐“ฎ๐“ฝ๐“ฝ๐“ฎ๐“ป, ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ญ ๐“ถ๐“ช๐”‚๐“ซ๐“ฎ ๐“ช ๐“น๐“ช๐“ฌ๐“ด ๐“ธ๐“ฏ ๐“น๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ผ ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ญ ๐“น๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ฌ๐“ฒ๐“ต๐“ผ ๐“ฝ๐“ธ๐“ธ. ๐“จ๐“ธ๐“พ ๐“ฌ๐“ช๐“ท ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ด ๐“ถ๐“ฎ ๐“ต๐“ช๐“ฝ๐“ฎ๐“ป. ๐“˜'๐“ฟ๐“ฎ ๐“ท๐“ฎ๐“ฟ๐“ฎ๐“ป ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ๐“ช๐“ป๐“ญ ๐“ช๐“ซ๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“ผ๐“น๐“ธ๐“ป๐“ฝ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ ๐”€๐“ฎ๐“ป๐“ฎ ๐“ฝ๐“ช๐“ต๐“ด๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐“ช๐“ซ๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ฝ, ๐“ผ๐“ธ ๐“ฒ๐“ฝ ๐“ถ๐“พ๐“ผ๐“ฝ ๐“ซ๐“ฎ ๐“ฟ๐“ฎ๐“ป๐”‚ ๐“ท๐“ฒ๐“ฌ๐“ฎ, ๐“ซ๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐“˜ ๐“ญ๐“ธ ๐“ช๐“ฐ๐“ป๐“ฎ๐“ฎ ๐“ฒ๐“ฝ ๐“ผ๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ถ๐“ผ ๐“ช ๐“ซ๐“ฒ๐“ฝ ๐“ป๐“ฒ๐“ญ๐“ฒ๐“ฌ๐“พ๐“ต๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ผ.

๐“˜ ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฟ๐“ฎ๐“ท'๐“ฝ ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ๐“ช๐“ป๐“ญ ๐“ช๐“ท๐”‚๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐“ฏ๐“ป๐“ธ๐“ถ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ป ๐“ฏ๐“ช๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ๐“ป, ๐“ซ๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐“˜'๐“ถ ๐“ผ๐“พ๐“ป๐“ฎ ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ'๐“ต๐“ต ๐”€๐“ป๐“ฒ๐“ฝ๐“ฎ ๐“ผ๐“ธ๐“ธ๐“ท. ๐“จ๐“ธ๐“พ ๐“ด๐“ท๐“ธ๐”€ ๐“ฑ๐“ธ๐”€ ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“ฒ๐“ผ ๐”€๐“ฒ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ ๐“ฝ๐“ฒ๐“ถ๐“ฎ ๐“ถ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ช๐“ฐ๐“ฎ๐“ถ๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ฝ ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ญ ๐“ช๐“ต๐“ต ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฝ. ๐“˜ ๐“ถ๐“ฒ๐“ผ๐“ผ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ ๐“ผ๐“ธ ๐“ช๐”€๐“ฏ๐“พ๐“ต๐“ต๐”‚ ๐“ถ๐“พ๐“ฌ๐“ฑ ๐“œ๐“ช๐“ฐ๐“ฐ๐“ฒ๐“ฎ, ๐“˜ ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฟ๐“ฎ ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“ญ๐“ช๐”‚ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ป ๐“ซ๐“ป๐“ฎ๐“ช๐“ด ๐“ผ๐“ฝ๐“ช๐“ป๐“ฝ๐“ผ ๐“ฌ๐“ฒ๐“ป๐“ฌ๐“ต๐“ฎ๐“ญ ๐“ธ๐“ท ๐“ถ๐”‚ ๐“ฌ๐“ช๐“ต๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ญ๐“ช๐“ป. ๐“˜ ๐“ต๐“ธ๐“ฟ๐“ฎ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ ๐“ฝ๐“ธ ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“ถ๐“ธ๐“ธ๐“ท ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ญ ๐“ซ๐“ช๐“ฌ๐“ด.

๐“ฆ๐“ฒ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ ๐“ช๐“ต๐“ต ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“ต๐“ธ๐“ฟ๐“ฎ,
๐“จ๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ป ๐“œ๐“ธ๐“ถ.
Maggie was teary eyed by the end of the letter. She suddenly missed her mother with everything in her heart, wishing nothing but to be wrapped in her embrace again, feeling, looking up into her tender brown eyes with her mismatched ones. It was all she wanted in the whole world at that moment.

The tears started spilling, dripping gently on the letter she was holding in shakey hands. A muffled sob escaped her, and she was suddenly very glad she wasn't in the great hall or her dormitory, so she could have this moment all to herself. She hugged the letter to her chest, feeling more like a kid than she had in years, wishing for her mom. She still was a kid, but she was smart so people tended to forget that. Another sob wracked her body as she sat on the shore, a crying child, looking out at the lake.

She was out there for about an hour more before she had finally calmed down. She looked at her reflection in the lake, wiping furiously at her face, trying to get rid of the tear tracts. After she had fixed herself with the reflection, she tucked the letter in her cloak pocket and got up, walking calmly back to the castle.

Am I too soft or is the world too cruel?

A Letter by the Lake
Irma was rubbing her finger over her lips in her nervous habit. The nice-looking girlโ€”whoever she wasโ€”was right in front of her AGAIN.
Sheโ€™d lost her the first time but there she was again, by the lake. Maybe it was a signโ€ฆ not that she believed in those. But then, she hadnโ€™t believed in magic until a few days back. To Irma, anything was possible right now.
Irma watched her walk back to the castle. She hesitated. Should she go?
She ended up running after her.
By the time she caught up, she was pantingโ€”breathless not only from running, but from excitement too.
Irma grabbed her elbow. โ€˜Wait!โ€™ She winced inwardly, wondering what this would look like to her. Sheโ€™d followed the girl around persistently andโ€ฆ maybe she shouldโ€™ve left her alone the first time she lost her. Still, she gathered up her nerves and spoke loudly.
โ€˜Youโ€ฆ dropped your quill!โ€™ She fished around inside her satchel and brought out her own quill. โ€˜This is yours, right?โ€™
Irma glanced at her face. โ€˜Haveโ€ฆ you been crying?โ€™ She felt a wave of embarrassment. Of course she was intruding. Couldnโ€™t fit in, could she? She stepped back in shock, still holding the quill. โ€˜Oh, itโ€™s probably not yours. Sorry.โ€™ Why couldnโ€™t she do anything right? She wouldโ€™ve run away but she felt like she should say somethingโ€ฆ.