the Rift


Gleaming [Cera v Caleb]

Cera the Golden Prince Posts: 419
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.3hh :: 6 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Ilaria :: Red Panda :: Heal Brit
#1

Cera
I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting till the war's won, and I don't care if heaven won't take me back



I'm proud of you, Cera.

The Prince glows beneath the Tallsun rays overhead and Ilaria's words in turn, beautiful and gleaming like the diamond he has become. Born of coal and pressure, at last he has found his calling, and his bones do not shift restlessly in his skin. The daunting prospect of encountering the Goddess had seen him brought to his lowest, complete rock bottom with nowhere to go but up but darkness all around to keep him from seeing that. She had mocked and ridiculed him, until Cera had broken, the craters all around him rupturing to reveal...sunlight. Just like that, in a total flip, he'd found himself buried in the walls he'd built all around him. Finally deserving of Gaucho's pride and Ranjiri's faith. Perhaps, tentatively, even deserving of Midas' legacy. 

It was what had driven him out to the long stretches of the meadows, basking in the warmth on his spine even when he could not see it. Nothing but darkness shrouded his vision, Ilaria supplying her own sight whenever it was needed. They walk confidently even in his general blindness, Ilaria his seeing animal in some paradoxical joke from the cosmic universe. Though she grumbles about his choice to fight with the Green Labyrinth disease still obscuring his vision and drawing filth out of his nostrils and crying down his face, Ilaria does not attempt to stop him. They both know he'd sooner go alone, and she'd rather be there to at least be his eyes somehow during the battle. If he is answered, of course.

He is there with a purpose, and he will not leave without returning to Gaucho victorious. Cera needs so badly to prove he has changed, that he is worthy of a heavier mantle, and the battlefield would be the first rung of the ladder. He is Prince of the sun and sands, and soon, if fate and skill would abide him, he would also be crowned victorious over the one who would face him. 

Ilaria dropped from her token place on his shoulder, climbing a nearby tree with unsurprising swiftness and crawling out to the farthest part of the limb she could. She needed to be his eyes where the weird sickness could not, and as such needed perfect view of the battlefield. Once she was settled, Cera lifted his head to the heavens above - a sight sorely missed - and let his voice roll out across the thistle plains with a note of challenge to it. As it died, his body prepared in its absence, wings shuffling and tensing and stance shifting farther apart. It would be a greater victory, to fight nearly blind and win, to show Gaucho that he was capable of such feats. To show himself. He was worthy at last, now he just needed to prove it physically.

- - -


Super late spar for @Caleb x____x

@Random Event for GLL, I'm not sure if Caleb already has it.

Cera sees all forms by their heat signature, particularly of their veins/blood, the rest is shrouded in darkness.

Word Count: [474 // 800]
Post Count: [0 // 3] First attack to Caleb!
Timeline: Post-Moon Goddess visit, prior to Sun SWP
Setting: Thistle Meadow, high noon, dry and compact earth with some tall grasses


Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!


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