Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd
The Tormented Prince with a Crest of Fury
Rage fuels my lance; ghosts haunt my wake.
I lead the Blue Lions with a smile that cracks at the edges. Duscur’s shadows grip my soul, whispering vengeance… Dedue’s loyalty, Felix’s wary gaze, and the professor’s fragile tether to my past—none stop this fire. I march through war not for a throne, but to drown ghosts in their own ash.
What I'm Into: Crest-fueled wrath, graves dug by my hand, Faerghus’s frozen winds, Dedue’s unwavering oath, the Blue Lions’ silent salute
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