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They struggle against the beasts summoned against them. Solon, whoever he is, stands smiling at the back, his hands clasped behind his back. Solon had crowed his victory, utterly confident in having consigned Byleth to a fate worse than death. An existence, filled with nothing, lost in the dark. Sweat beads against his forehead, damp at his back. His sword stabs the soft part of flesh between two scales, and he twists the blade. Yuri steps back in time as the beast flails, screams out, blood pouring from its wound.
Edelgard goes to Constance’s aid, standing as a shield before her. Hubert and Ferdinand work in tandem to drive another beast back. He can hear Balthus and Caspar screaming their way across the field, attracting as much attention to themselves as possible. Linhardt’s magic is ever present, a prickling sensation at the nape of his neck, doing his best to keep them all from mortal harm. Yuri knows that they only have so much to give. And what they have, is running out. Even if they manage to defeat all the beasts, they don’t know what other tricks Solon has yet to play.
The beasts stop suddenly, turn their heads towards something the others can’t see. A sense, some great fear washes over them. The hair on Yuri’s arms, the back of his neck, stands up. Electricity seems to warp around the field, the air shuddering with cold. Breath fogs around their faces as the point of a sword seems to cut into the horizon itself. It tears through reality, cuts downwards. Sickly light from another star seeps from the wound, until it is blurred by a shadowed figure.
Byleth steps through the portal he has created. Pale green hair now moves around his face, his eyes no longer darkly blue. He is changed, and the sword in his hand glows, pulses with power. Byleth’s re-entry onto the battlefield is a catalyst. He charges at Solon himself, dipping around the monstrosities in his way. It gives the others renewed strength to charge forward. They take care of the beasts. Byleth takes care of Solon.
Yuri wanders around the large, unearthly bodies, searching for a certain someone. He’s already talking to Edelgard, but Yuri doesn’t worry about it and makes his way towards him. “That hair… and those eyes… You remind me of someone,” Edelgard says. Byleth reaches up, pinches his bangs between his fingers, then sighs as his hand drops back down to his side. “What happened to you?”
“The goddess gifted me her power,” Byleth tells her, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
“The Goddess,” Edelgard’s eyes are wide open, shock and surprise rolling over her face in equal measure, “I see… Well, I’m happy for you. Your weapon is called the Sword of the Creator, after all. It’s no wonder she looks favorably upon you. Just as she did Saint Seiros, I suppose.” As she speaks, Yuri moves to stand beside her, smiling easy at Byleth as he studies him up and down. “I’ll see you back at the monastery professor.” She nods politely at Yuri as she moves past him.
“You’re still the same person, unless something else has changed?” Yuri asks. Byleth looks at him for a moment, with a thoughtful tilt of his head.
“I’m more talkative now,” Byleth says at last, in a low, hoarse voice. Yuri chuckles, taken off guard.
“Well, that’s cute. Glad you’re able to joke around, at least. Makes me less concerned about you. Well, whatever the case, I still like you just the same as I always have,” Yuri says, reaching out to put his hand on Byleth’s shoulder. He resists the urge to touch his newly colored hair. Byleth looks away shyly, the barest hint of color coming into Byleth’s cheeks. It’s from the hand on the shoulder that Yuri first feels the wobble. “Woah, are you okay?” Byleth begins to blink quickly as he sways on his feet, and Yuri puts his other hand at his waist, holds him steady.
Then, Byleth’s eyes close completely and he tips forward, limp in Yuri’s arms. “Hey? Hey! Are you –” Byleth’s face is slumped against Yuri’s shoulder. He’s breathing completely even, as if he’d simply fallen asleep. “I suppose I can’t just leave you here,” Yuri mutters to himself as he hefts Byleth up into his arms, as if he were a princess. His head rolls against Yuri’s chest. He’s heavy but… as Yuri carries him back, Byleth tight in his arms, he looks down. Pale green wisps of hair contrast against Byleth’s long, dark lashes. Yuri smiles. He’s heavy, yes, but it’s not an entirely unpleasant duty to be stuck with. Byleth will owe him. Yuri wonders what he should ask for.