@crestburned
❝ you got my message. i thank you for meeting me out here, i understand my instructions were rather . . . cryptic. ❞ he’s been thinking on this a lot lately. truthfully, he doesn’t like to lie, and he doesn’t like to keep things from the people most important to him. and this is PART of him, something big he feels he can’t keep hidden any longer. so here he is with byleth, standing in a clearing in the woods in the dead of night.
❝ i suppose i should get right to the point; i owe you that much. you remember rhea--- when she took on the form of a great white beast. back before the war of heroes there was a specific word for that form; such a form was called a dragon. when rewriting history, i suppose she erased that word so as not to raise any questions as to where they all went. it was not just rhea who could become such, all nabateans were gifted the ability--- that includes me. ❞
he sighs, hand brought up to his chin as he holds his elbow. he closes his eyes, a pensive look on his face. ❝ there are . . . repercussions to holding such a form for so long. certain emotions become intensified, sometimes our power dwindles the longer we hold on to one form for too long. we’re suppose to be fluid in being dragon and human. at least, that’s my theory. there was never enough research on the topic when we were a thriving civilization. for the longest time i had convinced myself that i could not become a dragon again, i suppose i was... afraid because of the implications. ❞
he pauses, opening his eyes and letting his arms fall to his side, ❝ ah--- i suppose i am rambling. it would be easier to show you than to explain. stay there please, i require some room. ❞ he takes a few steps away and closes his eyes, focusing all of his attention inwards. it’s been a long time since he’s tapped into his power like this. the divine magic pulses in his ears like music and he opens his eyes, two emeralds shining in the night. there’s a flash of light that grows brighter and brighter and--- where seteth once stood there is now a dragon. scales like metal, sharp horns lining his chin like a beard. the crest of cichol visible upon his forehead. he stretches, almost like a cat, then lays on his stomach with his legs curled up, folding his wings close to his back. he lowers his head to byleth.
❝ in this form, i am called the resilient, ❞ his voice comes out low and distorted and rough--- as though he hasn’t used his voice in ages. ( and in this form, he hasn’t. ) his mouth moves in a way that doesn’t quite seem to match with his words.