I miss Riri.

A twinge goes through the young stallion's chest and he bows his head, lids fluttering to a close as the words touch his mind. Ilaria stares up at him with solemn emeralds, imitating those he hides from her. Memories flood back to him, of his darling princess, tiny and curious. So easily hurt by the world around her. Midas had told him of her time as a wraith. Cera knew she had changed. He had not been in her life for so long, torn apart by their father's stubborn nature and their differing herds, only to be so cruelly separated when the darkness fell upon Helovia. He hadn't known until it was past that she had been consumed. Cera couldn't even keep his princess safe. What kind of a big brother was he? He did not deserve to bask in the perfection of her being. He deserved to suffer, for allowing her to fall into the pits of hell and not be there to take the blows for her.

Jerking away from the creature peering intently at him from the ground, he began to stalk away, rhythm harsh and discordant as his hooves hit the sand. Moonlight streamed over his canvas, and he ached for his Lord to return to his mantle. It was in those heavenly rays that he found solace, understanding. His true guiding light. Ilaria was persistent, however, racing to jump upon his plume and climb her way stubbornly up, uncaring of the tendrils she rudely ripped out in the process. Cera winced and huffed softly, frowning as she clambered to his shoulder to pull angrily upon his mane.

Riri not hate us. Not abandon, Cera. We not mother.

Cera could not help the agony of his chest at those words, turning to snap his teeth in her face. Ilaria dodged and hissed right back at him, claws sharp and punishing in his shoulder until they drew blood. The stallion sobered, a soft apology replacing the outburst of violence. He did not recall his mother at all, and even still she was the sorest subject anyone could prod at. But Ilaria held a point. He could not abandon Ranjiri, not like his mother had abandoned him. Cera could not condemn his beloved princess, his beautiful baby sister, to the crippling loneliness that he knew so intimately.

Before he even took to the skies, Ilaria's smugness was practically tangible, already aware that she had won. Cera rolled his big green eyes and sighed softly into the warm desert air, already thankful to be free of the grip of Frostfall that haunted his weakness to cold climates. Angel wings lifted, barely a step taken as he lifted into the air with great ease, lithe body rocking on the winds gently. The southern skies would turn, as he traveled, becoming colder as he drifted lower to find warm drafts to hold him aloft, hooves brushing against treetops and catching branches. Hours would slip past, his only comfort the rising sun on the horizon. Looking down, head hanging between loose knees, he could see the cool blue of the rivers below. See the branch of them, the way the water glimmered under the new sun.

Tilting one wing, he began to glide in the widest circle he could, encompassing the meadow below. And he sang, soft and mellow, but clearly audible. Wordless lyrics woven through the land below, beckoning the beautiful lass he loved more than he ever thought one body could contain. And when his voice had run its course, when it was sore and aching for a break, he allowed it. Drifting, lost, on a sea of currents he did not attempt to control. Gave up all independence and let the wind take him, hoping the princess with the golden tiara would grant him one glimpse of her royal form, no matter how much of a frog he was. She deserved his apologies. She deserved so much more than him, heart aching as the thought whispered maliciously inside his mind. She deserved so much more. So much that he'd never had the chance to give. Would she even receive him on blessed terms? Or would he lose the one beautiful thing he'd ever been granted in his lonely life? Doomed to watch her walk away, untouchable as she'd ever been to him, and know he was not worthy of chasing after her?

For a few long minutes that nearly bleed into longer expanses of time Cera can hardly stand, the sun child fears his princess will not show her pretty tiara. But he cannot give up on her. He knows now that even if she were to push him away, to scream in his face that she hated him, he would never give up on her. He would be there to catch her always, determined to make up for the seasons when he had been useless, when he had not been the big brothers she deserved. All his love, his devotion, his support...she deserved it all immeasurably. So even though his wings are beginning to ache as the winds still and shift at random, he refuses to stop. Only his vocal chords are capable of complaining, and when he goes quiet, it is at that same time that his eyes catch a hint of gold and dark cherry, nearly impossible carmine tints that are invisible away from high lighting.

Breath catches in his throat.

Could it be?

He circles lower, and his heart thunders in his chest, an entire orchestra reverberating on soul strings as they crescendo into one massive, beautiful, overwhelming symphony of relief and love. It is Ranjiri. But as her voice calls out, tentative and heart-breakingly needy, he cannot deny her. Even if it means he must sing for her, unknown, a little bit longer. So with a throat turning sore with use, he gently clears it, swallows, and begins anew. There is no need for lyrics. He is not creative enough to make them up as he goes along, anyways. But if there is one thing he can express, in those shimmering, swaying sounds, it is how he feels. He coos it to her from the heavens, his soul reaching out to her on honeyed vocals, seeking her forgiveness as a faceless man with sins even she must sense.

But he cannot conceal himself, cowardly, in the sun forever. It hides his colors from view, hides his identity from her. No. No more hiding. He drifts closer, lower, until snow kissed hooves touch down, impossibly gentle, upon the grass. His throat never stops softly vibrating with the feather-soft tune he has serenaded her with, and his eyes fall upon her own ruby, a thousand unspoken apologies swimming in their depths. Slowly, like a whisper carried away farther and farther on a summer wind, the song dies. They see each other plain now.

"Baby sister."