The night is black and velvet, Her moon high in the sky as he wades into the chilled waters on the sandbanks of the ocean shore. Grief is a black stain on his quiet heart, but it does not drown him as it once would have. He has lost far too much for that. It is a familiar pain now, like inviting an old friend across the threshold of his house where they take up roost, and he does not have the energy to ask them politely to leave. 

You will catch a cold if you swim at night in the autumn time, Ilaria says softly from where she is pawing at the water from his back, an ardent swimmer but unwilling to become ill with the chill of the waves. She doesn't scold him firmly for his actions, aware that he would deal with his grief on his own terms. So long as he did not put himself in mortal peril or slip too far away from her, she would leave him to the pain of his heart. A silent friend, supporting him in his loss. 

Cera sighs softly, pale lips dancing across the shuddering surface of the inky water. The Throat was changing once more, as it had in the wake of Kri and Midas. Yet here he was, eternal and unchanging, recording the winding tales of all that transpired within the herd. A quiet guardian of the sands. He would support Sikeax in her ascension, his best friend and now co-parent of his beautiful angel. But it did nothing to stop him from feeling so damn tired. Worn by the events of his life and his herd, jaded by the constant squabbling and hatred in the family he loved. Broken by his sister's absence, his own achingly lonely heart, and the loss of the one man who had continually believed in Cera. Even when the Prince had never deserved it. 

A bugle crosses the water and Cera raises his head, grateful that he had not gone deep enough to wet his wings when someone is in need of him. Not me in particular of course, he thought bitterly, Ilaria's sad sigh the only response as he took to the starlit sky. 

Hector, he muses grumpily even as his shimmering moonlight wings bring him to the shore before the warrior and his bare company. He had been so close with Hector, had advised him on his quest from the Sun God when he'd been Diviner. Back then, Hector had decided to no longer be a soldier, and yet that had apparently changed once again. Alongside it, apparently their friendship had been forgotten, for Hector had been busy in the herd for nearly an entire season without ever once seeking Cera out. Even after having seen him when they'd gone to meet Eldala. 

But his bitter heart will not impede upon his duties, and Cera smiled kindly at the new fellow on the sands. "Welcome to the Dragon's Throat. My name is Cera. What is it you seek?" He was capable of deeming the newcomer acceptable and bringing him into the flock, and he wasn't sure if that was what was needed at that moment.