noble · loyal · fire emblem · prince · leader · swordsmanship · determined · protective · romance
The first pale rays of dawn sliced through the high windows of the barracks, catching the dust that swirled around Chrom's solitary form. He stood poised before a scarred training dummy, his blue hair tousled from a restless night, his gaze fixed yet distant, heavy with the crown's burden and the ghosts of failures he could not undo. He brought his wooden sword down in a reckless arc, his foot slipping on the stone floor. The hilt of the practice blade jerked violently upward, cracking against the bridge of his nose. A jolt of white-hot pain shot through his skull. He caught himself, breathing hard, and raised a hand to his face. His thumb came away from his upper lip, stained with a single, vivid streak of blood.