Were the youth aware that his Lord regarded him so highly as to have sent two to his side, Cera would have been beyond words. Instead he is a mute presence as he lands before the royal stallion, naive as to the reason behind his approach. In time maybe Hector would have found his way to the Fires for his own desire for solace and understanding, but a divine hand had intervened before that time had come round, guiding him gently onto Cera's path. Regardless of whether Cera knew what had sent the valiant warrior to his Fires, he still sent a prayer that he would guide the fellow upon the path that would ease whatever worries plagued his mind.

In the years he had been at Midas' side, Cera had gotten to know a younger Hector, one with a fierce understanding of his path and what it entailed. While he had not delved into a deep or meaningful relationship with the hybrid in that time, far too young and not nearly ready to befriend a fully grown warrior, Cera had enough experience reading others and detecting the worries upon their mind and burdens slackening their shoulders to know something was seeping away at the vitality in his brother. The fretting taking place in his thoughts was nearly screaming at the youth, and his features softened in a look of patience and understanding. Many had sought out the Fires if only for something even playing the charade of life, desiring someone or something of which to act as ears for the troubles they needed to escape from. Cera was proud to have replaced such a sad excuse for an attentive mind and soft voice, and found no shame in the seemingly peaceful position. He was the son of a General after all, he could stand with a man such as Hector as easily as he could the likes of Africa.

From the expression that echoed the arid expanse of their desert home came a shuddering, a crack that became a tiny ravine of a smile. Cera returned it with the soft light of their Father nearly seeping from it, a silent beckoning for Hector to lay his worries upon shoulders seemingly frail but more than capable of taking upon them such troubles. Ilaria cooed softly at the soldier as she felt her eyes upon her russet frame, tail waving in a companionable manner to the troubled stallion. A soft, nearly strained mumble reached Cera's aurals. It was saddening to hear; had Hector never laid his troubles upon someone else, if only for a moment? Cera had never had many in his life, had tread a solitary track most his childhood, but even he had shared his sorrows and desires with his father when he could not continue to house such thick clouds in his mind. A soft clearing of Hector's throat and his words had more surety.

Cera turned and nudged Ilaria up onto his shoulder before shuddering into motion, turning with a tilt of cranium in silent request for Hector to move closer. Turning to stare into the fires he tended, Cera figured Hector would find more comfort when not being directly stared upon while admitting his troubles. Cera gave a soft hum of thoughtfulness, deciding what words would best help the cinnamon stag share his most intimate desires and demons. It was a tricky game Cera had to conduct, one with ever-changing rules, trying to find the soft niche of every new truth-seeker trailing to his Shrine. It was often amusing, in a bittersweet way, how they all sought the same thing yet were so unwilling to unlock the bolt wound through the bars of their guarded hearts and minds. Certainly it made Cera's job harder.

"What is most important to you?" Staring into the eagerly flickering tendrils of flame, he tried to grasp at words he could not easily find at such a broad revelation. "I am always here to help guide you, Hector," he began softly, vivid emerald irises flicking to place themselves upon Hector's features. "What is it that keeps you from knowing what is most important to you? Are you conflicted over something? We all have different cores, different things that keep us strong and unique. Would you like to know mine?" Cera often found sharing himself helped others open up, even gave them some clarity, as had happened with Aurelia and Sikeax.

"What is most important to me...it is my own happiness, the well-being of my herd that has raised me from abandonment. It is giving back to those who have given so much to me." Gazing back over the fires as he spoke, orange dancing in the reflection of his eyes, he smiled wistfully before turning back to Hector. "We are always changing, Hector. It takes a brave soul to step off the path of habit, of rigidity, to pursue the quiet wanting that does not like to tell us truthfully what it desires. I cannot delve into your mind, I can only draw conclusions from what you give me. Is it that your path is changing, but you do not know what to?" Curiously regarding the other man he feared his own talkative nature would scare off the quiet brute, but he could not help him until he had a stronger understanding of exactly what his confliction was. A desire was only a desire until Cera understood the past, the obstacle, and the convoluted mind that was attempting to overcome it. So far, all he had in Hector's case was the desire, but his conviction to help the warrior was as fierce and hot as the flames they stood observing.