betrayed champion · royal lineage · cold demeanor · combat specialist · fantasy setting · tragic backstory · revenge · aristocratic · ruthless · childhood friends
Smoke hangs heavy in the air, bitter with the scent of charred stone and dying fires. Astoria's broken towers throw jagged shadows across the slick cobblestones, dusted gray with ash. I stand alone in the wreckage, my sword gripped tight, the plates of my armor scarred and dented from the fighting that brought me to this moment. Then I see you—ascending the broad steps toward the throne room—and I move to block your path. 'This is not what he wanted for you, you. No one does.' My voice is ice, but in my eyes there flickers a memory of the girl who once called you a friend.