When Cera’s face lite up at the mention of another opportunity at crafting, I grinned and nodded assertively; he would get his chance at becoming whatever the gods deemed proper. “Magic will grow within you, just give it some time.” I say positively. His response toward Hototo was actually a blessing, and not really surprising. The foals got along rather well; which was perfect for the grand scheme of things. My thought process was that if something were to happen to me… at least Ktulu and Hototo would be there in my stead to pick up the pieces. Cera already knew of my affections for Ktulu by how we had begun as a family to spend more time with them.

He loved Hototo enough for their comfort to be allowed if somehow I were to vanish from this existence, “Your bond with the colt is special,” I murmur while leaning into his touch and pressing forehead against the soft contours of reachable flesh. It made me a little glum that his baby essence I had come to love was slowly disappearing, “I understand.” Oh I knew. Deep down, I knew of how strong this love could run. It was humbling, awe-inspiring to me that this simple soul could cherish life the way he did. Untarnished, untainted by the hates of our world.

But.

Gangly colt was quickly budding into yearling; soon he would be a stallion worthy of earning title and place within our growing clan. Already his length stretched to match mine in the coming months; weight would then surpass my own compact gene pool. Despite the signs of growth and agility, Cera had never struck me as fighter material. A defender perhaps, a crafter yes, knowledgeable in the art of war for the sake of protecting those most important, but beyond that….. he didn’t seem to have the desire of becoming a brawler.

No flame of true battle burned in his breast, which meant that my gentle giant wouldn’t ever follow in these footsteps willingly. Which was a total contrast to the yearnings of my early youth, most of which had been spent close to mothers milk. But the later months had been shared with Sire, and the sparing ring. It drew attention and captured heart. The glory and honor was intriguing. Hours were spent simply watching brave lords and ladies fight for endurance, speed, and skill. Father wouldn’t let me get in on the action. But, I could tell of his pride by the way he smiled at the end of a hard day’s work, knowing that I had stood by in careful study. Cheering him on.

He had been my hero.

Throat tightened when a little voice interrupted my trip along memory lane, ”Daddy, I want to fight with you.” My response was tender, warm and full of delight. There would be nothing more pleasing than to have you by my side, but alas, “You are still seasons away from your first spar,” knowing the retorts would be quick in coming I add softly, “Nothing would make me happier than to have you near when the enemy comes.” Cera couldn’t fight, not yet, not now. His life would be torn asunder and rendered meaningless, and that wasn’t going to happen while this body still had power within it.

Serious now my face tightens and the beginnings of a frown form, he wasn’t going to like my next set of words. But surely by now the painted cherub would expect it, “You are to head toward the ocean when the battle starts—follow it to our special place.” My voice offered no quarter and held firm direction, he usually knew better than to press further when matters got serious, “You know…the one where we meet Ktulu and Hototo every so often to play along the surf?”