07-13-2020, 06:43 PM
Sat at his desk within his room, the nervous Philip looked down to a parchment and an ink-well with faintly reddened eyes. Crying was something the young boy liked to do often but in his eyes, it seemed the world was coming down and crashing in on itself and it put him and his family into the cross-fire. The young Petrakis struggled to get the information in the beginning as surely his Momma would work diligently to prevent such, but the Prince had to know. He couldn't be kept in the dark about how this world viewed one another and his family. It was just as Cousin Carlisle said to Uncle, everyone hated them. Everyone wanted to hurt them.
Even then, the sniffling prince was still holding to some-kind of hope for goodness in this world. Childish optimism and hope that was surely to be shattered into a million pieces in the coming days. So with a shaky breath, the small fingers of Philip moved to grasp the quill and began working on the stack of parchments. His handwriting was what one would assume a royals to be, very practiced and proper. After the first parchment was completed, then the rest of the stack in the coming hours ahead.
Philip would not leave his room after sending off the stack of parchments to be scattered across the land by unassuming non-magi couriers, paid to simply put them up where people could see them. Just not in the cities itself. He didn't want to see people hurt just because he wished to do good. He couldn't let his Mother or Uncle see him like this. He had to be strong for his family, it didn't matter if he was ten.
Even then, the sniffling prince was still holding to some-kind of hope for goodness in this world. Childish optimism and hope that was surely to be shattered into a million pieces in the coming days. So with a shaky breath, the small fingers of Philip moved to grasp the quill and began working on the stack of parchments. His handwriting was what one would assume a royals to be, very practiced and proper. After the first parchment was completed, then the rest of the stack in the coming hours ahead.
Philip would not leave his room after sending off the stack of parchments to be scattered across the land by unassuming non-magi couriers, paid to simply put them up where people could see them. Just not in the cities itself. He didn't want to see people hurt just because he wished to do good. He couldn't let his Mother or Uncle see him like this. He had to be strong for his family, it didn't matter if he was ten.
(The missive is found below as I struggled with the forums. Apologies if the post is shoddy- I wanted to get this out before rushing to work)
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