expectations||
The monastery felt more foreboding than he had anticipated. Past experiences with schooling swirled at the back of his mind, ghosts whispering of the hurt and betrayal that awaited. He smiled in spite of them.
The war across Ylisse over, the Plegian had made something of a name for himself. He'd not been in it for the fame, though - strictly, he had stuck around because he enjoyed painting his surroundings red, and Chrom's army allowed him to do so.
The few friends he had made along the way were bonuses, though all had gone their own ways, Henry included, after all the fighting was done. He thought of them fondly when he felt lonely, and for the most part, it was enough to keep him pushing forward.
But on one of those days where it wasn't quite enough and he found himself listlessly meandering, wondering as to his fate...
On one of those days, a messenger came a-calling. He had been summoned.
By his parents, who had heard of his exploits in combat.
An uncharacteristic knot in his stomach, the dark mage had heeded the call and gone home - home, where he'd never been good enough. Home, where he had not been welcome in years after being abandoned in the woods and left to his own devices. Even after all this time, though, he couldn't help but hope against hope... did they want him back? Had he made them proud, at long last?
Standing in the courtyard of Garreg Mach, Henry hummed to himself. A second chance... but what to do with it? His father's instructions, beyond a succinct note not to fail him again, had been vague.
Day one, and he was lost already. Where was everyone?
