[a parchment to Amadeus Bucket]

[granny]

Mister Amadeus Bucket,

Our encounter left me with questions that weigh heavy on my heart. The tempest of magical assault that you unleashed upon me remains a mystery, a tempest I never provoked nor anticipated. Why, dear sir, did you choose this path of hostility, turning our meeting into a storm of chaos?

I write not to condemn, but to seek understanding. Was there an unspoken grievance or a grievous misunderstanding that led to this unprovoked assault? Your reasons remain obscured, and I long to dispel this shroud of uncertainty.

Wicked actions, like a drop of ink in pristine waters, taint the pure soul gifted to us by the benevolent Mother. Each unkindness, every cruelty, casts ripples that mar the soul's clarity, a reminder that our choices can pollute the very essence of our being.

Let our dialogue be a torch in the darkness, illuminating the shadows of our past. I ask you to share your perspective, to help me comprehend the enigma of our encounter. The teachings of The Mother urge us toward unity and insight, and I implore you to join me in this pursuit.

May The Mother's grace guide us to resolve this mystery and find a path to reconciliation.

Seeking answers,
Farideh Goldbarg.

[An ashen figure, extraordinarily pale, rushes into the Krak des Roses, clutching a parchment destined for an individual by the name of Amadeus Bucket.]