And I'd bring you further roses but it does you no good
Cera the Pure.
Cera the Golden Prince.
Cera his Golden Son.
The dun nodded as Cera suggested he did not have to complete his quest alone. Gaucho nearly chuckled at this - he might have said that it was he who needed to complete it, but never that it would be completed alone. Didn't Cera understand that his mere presence in the herd, in Gaucho's mind, and in his heart was constant? That the dun would never face his trials alone?
Gaucho exhaled softly. "Never alone, that right. Gaucho have family. Have Cera." Always.
As the Prince mentioned Bucephalus, Gaucho leaned even further back, casting his stormy gaze into the sky. Bucephalus .... the MorningStar was nothing compared to the Golden Prince. It seemed the black stallion meant well enough ... and certainly he tried, but their was a spark of honesty in Cera that was decidedly lacking in his new Chancellor. His promotion had been necessary at the time ... but had Gaucho been hasty? His blind gaze turned back to the Prince, and through Mara's eyes he regarded him silently.
Why had Cera never expressed interest in the Throne his father, Midas once held?
The Prince stood shoulder to shoulder with Gaucho as a brother, and a friend within the herd. Did he ever desire to stand abreast with his Sultan as an equal ?
Sighing Gaucho forced a smile and a nod. "You do it better anyways. Cera good with metal." That was certainly true. The paint was the best crafter they had had since ... well, since Sohalia all those years ago. But hadn't Cera been a crafter then as well?
Yet only one of them remained.
Only one.
Only Cera.
Table style by Tamme! Image Credits