Loyalty is reward in such simplistic ways, but the smile the God of Flame bestows upon Cera makes him feel untouchable. Warm. Always warm in the presence of the God he so revered. Cera smiled back, sincere and grateful that his Lord has recognized him singularly. Heart pounds delightedly, and everything fades away. These others mean nothing to him, they are greed-driven, seeking his Father for their own purposes, and he will not associate with their simple-mindedness right now. Not when pride and joy are blooming up inside of him like golden bubbles, precious and evanescent, but so pure he will never forget the feeling, the presence of the gratitude on the Sun Lord's face. Words are quiet, as if to imitate Cera's murmured words in desire for a more intimate connection of conversation. His purpose lies in his answer, and he does not look away, doesn't think he can he is so enchanted to finally meet his savior. "I have no training, my Lord. But I will bow my knee to your warriors, and fight for your lands. I will seek creation to guard it, with Ilaria at my side to heal for those wounded. You have my entirety at your service, my Lord," he answered sincerely, concisely. It had been his plan all along, since his gratitude towards the king of light had first began to fester. Ilaria was given the ability to heal, to mend. Cera would take the mantle of a solider, to defend, and obtain magic to create and protect. There was little he had not planned, willing to give everything to round himself in the image of his protector.

But their moment is short, even if it is far more precious than Cera will ever be able to express. The others jump in, tongues wagging eagerly, answers springing from their lips in succession. Cera sits and listens, waits and thinks, and contemplates everything he hears. His relief to know the safety of Onni is great, and it passes through him like a wave, letting him focus on the priority of the moment- the question his king has phrased to the whole of them. But instead his eyes turn to the child who has lost her mother, and he moves towards her, remembering Onni's very words to shine the light of himself on others to help them find their way. "Hello, my name is Cera, and this is Ilaria," he greeted softly but swiftly, not wishing to ignore his Lord. "My mother is gone as well. But perhaps we can be friends? I know Helovia well, I was born here," he gave a kindly smile, only for it to twitch as he heard the blasphemous words of Carnesir.

Instead of acting on his anger his face hardens momentarily, hiding it from Amani for he does not want to scare her after so readily offering his hand to her in friendship. She may be too young to understand his disgust with those who assume the Gods are nothing more than lazy deities sitting upon their thrones. "I believe the painted lady is right, my Lord. We were driven to the Sanctuary, our alliances were cut, we all became one and the same in our desire to be safe. And we bonded with those we normally would never have met, perhaps never have trusted. Enemies by herd preference became friends in circumstances that couldn't have been otherwise achieved. We all became equals." His head tilted, observing his Lord with kind, curious eyes that were churning with thought. His paved road of thought was ever continuing, speaking softly as he went along, going with his heart instead of trying to impress. "Hatred is more than just a blanket statement. We hate for species, for looks, but more specifically for alliances. If I were told to attack a Basin soldier, I might have, if only because of our pasts with invasions and enemy status. Aside from this...I don't know. That is all I can think of." He is okay with admitting this now, the patchy lad, for he has tried his best. Instead, he lifts a wing for Ilaria to run across the width of, the curious little panda blinking friendly emerald eyes at the young filly he was so intrigued by.

Maybe the Gods really did bring them together.