Cera
_{I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting till the war's won, and I don't care if heaven won't take me back}

Since meeting Sno, Cera has not moved from the Veins. It is the only isolated part of Helovia he is comfortable with anymore. He knows Grandfather Earth has chosen Midas as the new lead for the Foothills, and there is a bitterness in his throat at that knowledge. How dare his father leave the Throat that had sheltered them since Cera was first born there? How could he possibly leave behind the Magnolia, the clay, the oasis? The hundreds of loving family members that followed him, ready to fall upon spike or horn for him in an instant? In ways, it disgusted him, that his father could so readily abandon the one home he'd refused to leave. Had it not been him who had refused to leave to the Foothills to be with Ktulu and Hototo and Ranjiri? Had Cera not been okay with that? His stomach is churning, and he feels vaguely sick at all hours he mulls over the topic. Ilaria can do little to soothe him, patting her little paws against the strained muscles of his body in hopes of calming him. Cera can't help but feel betrayed, abandoned, and he doesn't know who to follow anymore.

The Lord of Light had given him life. He had given him a home, protected him, and Cera had been demanding a place in his ranks as a soldier since before his first birthday if it meant the land he so revered remained his to keep. When poison had been withering him away from the inside, it had been the God of the Sun who had given his light and flame to Onni, who had saved him from the demise he surely would have faced. It was he who imparted the wisdom in Onni, and therefore in him, that letting go of anger was the only way to remain pure inside. Cera's love and loyalty for the fierce celestial was beyond measure, beyond words. And so when that light appeared, and the pull in his chest began anew- so familiar to when he had met with the Earth God last gathering- he knew with certainty that the God of Sun had come to see his followers.

Without a second of hesitation he jumped to his hooves and began to run. There were days, far in the future, to wonder why the presence of the Gods was a magnet to all mortals. Why, and how, did they all gather upon the spot they touched, with no knowledge of when or where they would be? No, all that mattered was seeing his Lord. The scar on his chest was warm, perhaps only a mental thing, but it only reminded him of how much he owed the immortal leader.

Slowing, he waited for those who arrived before him to speak, quietly moving forth to rock down to his knees. Shins were pressed to the earth, far more than a simple respectful bow. Wings dropped, crown pressed to the warm rocks below, and Ilaria tilted her head in similar respect. "My King," he breathed, tone a thick mix of relief, reverence, and concealed rage. Anger was so thick inside, knowing that his golden boy father had abandoned the one God who had given him everything. How would Onni feel? And that thought brought him back to the dark male's words, a feeling of worry in his own stomach as he carefully moved one leg to prop himself back up, uncaring of the ache in his bones from kneeling upon the stone. It was worth it. "My father may have abandoned you and your shores," he murmured fiercely, eyes alive with color that belonged to the immortal hybrid's brother, "but I do not intend to." It is meant only for his ears, and though it almost hurts to look at him he raises his eyes to meet those of the God, wings pulling back to bare the wicked scar upon his chest proudly. No longer was he afraid. Not here, not in the eyes of the one who had saved him. It was a badge of honor, a tie of loyalty he could not shake, for it had been the Lord of Light who had given him back life when he had been too young to grasp the importance of it.

---

Not sure which of the two I want him to quest for if he wins, but I'll decide if he does!