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}

He stands solemn before her as she watches him quietly, her deep ruby eyes a storm of flickering emotions that he can't bear to face lest he recognize one of them. Awaits her judgment, for the hammer of her decision to come down and sentence him to death or some other far more grievous form of persecution. Ranjiri could kill him in so many more ways than the physical, if she so decided to be that cruel. To lose her, to know that it was his own actions that forced her away, but have her be so close to him without her love accompanying would be the end of him. For a soul so intertwined with family, he seemed to always lose them through some horrific means. He would sell his soul and submit himself to eternal torturous damnation if it meant he didn't lose Ranjiri, too. If it meant he didn't have to one day find her broken and bloody, sundered by the evil forces of the world that always seemed intent on stealing what little good Cera had left in his life. Maybe she thought him the greatest fool to have attacked the Goddess, but to him, he'd have rather initiated the end right there. Himself. If he was to die it would be of his own volition, and it scared him a little now to think that he'd been anticipating it. Accepted it. She didn't deserve that. 

But he was here now, and he'd found the rock beneath his feet once more. And just as surprising as that was, she revealed yet another forgiveness that he didn't deserve. But one that was worth so much more than any god could give him. "I love you too," and it's strong and sure but it waivers a little on the undercurrent, because he doesn't deserve her forgiveness but he is a greedy and selfish mortal and he will take it. Shuddered like a marionette, strings in the process of being sawed through, and collapsed into her happily as she stepped forward into his embrace. Midas had always taught Cera to take pride in his wings, for they were of great span and far too large for his lanky body. He had never taught Cera the rest that he could do outside the skies, that he could ever shield or love or comfort with their breadth. But Ranjiri had. And he raised them to envelop her, shrouding her dark form in the ivory cloud of his wings and simply letting himself feel her against his chest. Hold her close while he could, because he would spare no further moments with her in the future. "You'll always be that little girl in the Foothills to me," he whispered against her skin. 

"The time for war is over," he murmured, reluctantly pulling away, muzzle tracing every curve he could reach as he did so. He'd come here on a job, couldn't slack no matter how he wanted to just sit there in Ranjiri's embrace. "But we can still help in other ways. It's why I was here," he reminded. Downy wings fell away from where they'd filtered sunlight in pale glow across her skin, forcing himself to step back - but not without a gentle bump of his muzzle towards hers, eyes warmer than they'd been in years. "Ready to do some crafting, baby sis?" And if there was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, well, who could blame him? That she'd followed in his footsteps - his - meant the world to him. 

The original key he'd been given as a forger was on a thin band that encircled one wing, the key itself tucked just behind his left elbow and up against his belly. He turned to show it to her briefly, smile fondly creasing his lips. "We need to make keys for the citizens that can't fly across the land bridge. We're going to need a lot of them, so don't worry if you make a few imperfect ones the first few times. They'll do the job one way or another. Have you been practicing?" He tapped one snowy hoof against the ground, where the deposits rested. He could feel them there, like a fuzzy sonar map, awaiting his manipulation. His blood sang in excitement and he yanked them closer to the surface with one mighty heave, until the tops of some of them gleamed in the sunlight around them. It would make it easier on Ranjiri to work with the lumps close quartered. 

He grabbed at it with the magic he felt deep down in his bones, pulled and yanked until one section was free of the main deposit, and began to twist and manipulate it freely in the air where she could watch. They were rustic, simplistic things, and didn't need to be very glamorous. A hole for a cord if desired, and the same basic prongs as his own key. The metal gleamed smooth and perfect, nonetheless, but Cera didn't bother himself with distinction or caring about the way the color wasn't a solid perfect metallic all the way through. The integrity of the metal and the purity didn't matter so much in a bulk session like this. "See?" he gestured down to the completed key and let it drop to the sand between them as their guide. "They're simple, basic shapes. Just envision what you want in your mind, focus on the metal, and try to find what you want within it. Like tracing a shape. Call it into being, play with the metal and push it into place where you want it to go." He drew on another pocket, a larger lump surfacing, and two more keys were shortly taking shape. Cera didn't need to focus on singulars any longer, and if he got his own chunk done he could help Ranjiri step by step more effectively if she needed it. Cera doubted it though, his sister was a talented individual. Shaking off the dusting of sweat from the exertion, his own quota filled, he stepped around to Ranjiri's side to watch her progress.

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Cera has made three Dragon's Throat keys!