Trepidation coursed through the veins of the young stallion pacing the sands, a shimmer of sweat clinging to the lean muscle of the athletic male as he scuffed the sands beneath the heat of the sun. Images were burned into his mind, of a falling pegasus dying on an island of peace, drawn in smoke and clinched in fateful truth by the intervention of his Lord. There was no doubting the sudden drop of flames, the smoldering of the coals, the prickle of warm magic against every fiber and hair on Cera's body. Worry gnawed at his heart, knowing the time of peace was shattering, fracturing beneath the weight of Helovia like splintering ice too thin for treading. And like naive children, they were unaware, skating along and believing the ice to hold them forever. Oblivious to the impending fracture, the submersion into piercingly frigid waters. Cera only wanted to save them from such a fate.

How could he? There was no manual, no list of instructions on how to handle a problem he couldn't even specify. There was only the deep sense of wrongness, the same feeling that had driven him to the shrine in search of his Lord's guidance in the first place. Rushing from the shrine had only led him to such train of thought, forcing him to stop and think. Instinct had driven him away, claiming his forethoughts and demanding he defend, protect. But from what was he supposedly protecting his family from? Teeth ground in a temporary fit of frustration at his own lack of knowledge, of certainty. Yet the pervading feeling of wrong, wrong, danger! Simply wouldn't go away. The sign of his Lord could not go unspoken, unnoticed. This was his duty, his calling, and he would not abandon post over his own insecurities over the lack of well-rounded explanation. It was a warning, and Cera would heed it.

The rocky outcrop had been the gathering point for years, entire cycles of life that Cera had not been present to witness, not even a thought in his forebearer's minds. It was meant to gather the herd, to lift the leaders upon a natural throne. It was a position that had been assumed by others, and that early afternoon it was Cera who placed his hooves upon the soil and hoisted himself up onto the ledge. Lifting head to the sky he brayed out, as powerfully as his little lungs could manage, screaming into the air with a permeating note of urgency. Calling his people, any who cared to show their faces. His Sultanas, their soldiers, the healers and the citizens. Everyone. The word had to be spread, and he would rather speak once than tell the story twice after informing his Sultanas. If it was as urgent as he believed it to be, he could not hesitate, could not fear the potential reprimand at calling the herd when he was a simple Diviner.

Awaiting their arrival was perhaps the hardest part, but Cera knew the problem was not as urgent as an impending invasion perhaps. It was no immediate threat or danger, something to be beaten off or defended against. Yet he could not shake the feeling that something was off, and it only mounted his anxiety. As soon as they gathered he began to speak, nerves jittering even as his stance was calm and sure. He would not fail his people.

"The God of the Sun has sent me a warning. He has shown me a terrible occurrence, and I do not doubt the urgency of his images. There has been a death, an unnatural death, upon the Caela Insula. It is of enough importance to involve the Gods. Our island of peace may no longer be such, I cannot guarantee how safe it will be much longer. What do you propose we do?" His voice rang out to encircle those gathered, worry knitting his brow despite the firm hold of his shoulders. The prospect of a murder had not escaped his mind, but he was hesitant to voice it without evidence from the God of the Sun to back it up. Perhaps it did not seem so urgent when voiced as it was, but Cera was suddenly itching to ban all travel to the island, if only for the sake of his people.

Potentially Interested Parties: @[Gaucho], @[Hector], @[Lace]