Wings beat the air, lifting thin body from the ground stubbornly before his hooves caught the ground roughly once again. Landing had become easier for him, but Cera was still learning how to keep himself in the air longer. He was managing rather well, but he practiced secretly for hours every day. This would be considered normal in any other case, for why wouldn't a pegasus foal want to learn how to fly? But Cera was pushing himself hard not for the joys of the skies, but for a different reason entirely. The demon that had split open his chest was not blessed with wings, though he supposed the elitist unicorn was glad for that. Cera knew that if he could fly, the demon could not get him. So he practiced, and practiced, and practiced. Pushing himself to stay aloft, unable to turn to his instincts like Midas had instructed him to. Unable to feel the thermals through a part of him that was born with him. He was too concerned with staying up, for if he could remain in the air then he was safe.

But even he was feeling the fatigue of forcing the air to obey him instead of working with it, and Ilaria crawled up to pull gently on his ear. Reminding him that she would not let him do this, exhaust himself. He sent back his thoughts to her, pleading her to let him continue. Ilaria bit gently at his ear, letting out a strange mix of a growl and purr. It was clear what she was saying, a very insistent no. Cera sighed and obeyed, forgiving her immediately when she pushed her love at him through their bond. Smiling weakly and resorting to walking again. His father's amulet bounced gently against his scar with every step, reminding him both of the love his father had for him and the horrors he had witnessed. It was a conflicting mix that refused to negate each other. Ilaria had found another one in the throat when they had gone together to visit the tree he had found her in. Where he had bonded to her. That one had been carefully wrapped around her small neck, having to wrap the chain in half to make it fit her. Cera would not wear the amulet of his patron over the one his father had given to him. True they held the same properties and came from the same God, but Midas' meant much more to him.

Ilaria was the one who spotted the stallion dozing beneath a tree. She remembered him, fuzzily. Recalled his presence when she had bonded with her precious Cera. Pulling on the chain around Cera's neck, she nudged his mind and flashed an image of Note to him. Cera perked up and turned, spotting Note quickly. Slowly he approached, far more timid than he had been when they had first met. So much had changed. Cera nickered to him, hoping to wake him up. Standing a good few lengths away, still very nervous around others. "Note?" Unwilling to disturb his sleep but also excited to see him again. Nervous, tremulous smile drew upon his lips, awaiting Note's awakening.

His friend woke the moment his name was spoken, though he took a few seconds to awaken fully. Smile drew to older face and Cera watched as he scrambled up with a happy cry of his name. Cera managed a wavering smile, happy to see him despite the circumstances. Cera watched him approach and giggled weakly, more nervous than happy. Ilaria chirped happily at Note from her position on his back, peeking around him, recognizing the stallion from the day of her bonding. She was fond of him, and knew that Cera was as well. He would always be on her good side for having helped her child in their bonding.

At first Cera twitched as if to shy away, but Note approached slowly and instead he merely tucked his wings in tight to control himself. Nervous rattle of breathing calmed slightly when the stallion approached on his level, not forcing him. Trembling slowed and Ilaria cooed at him approvingly, and regarded Note with happy eyes that spoke of the same approval. It took a few moments for Note to understand, and Cera physically flinched when Note's eyes finally found his scar. It hurt to even think about it. As Note came closer the trembling started again, crown rising higher and ears flickering back as if wishing to flatten against his skull. He was scared of what Note would think, would do. Was scared of many things these days, he found. But he didn't move, hardly dared to breathe when Note's muzzle brushed against his scar. Letting out a tiny sob of a breath, as if finally remembering he had to breathe. Big green eyes closed and voice hitched at Note's question. One tear streaked down his cheeks and he felt foolish, so he shook his head slightly and smiled weakly, eyes opening once more. "I-I think...his name was d'Artagnan..." hardly a whisper, and voice becoming pained and scared when he said the name. It was horrible, and he hated the sound of it. Cera stepped away from Note, though not by much. Just enough to find room to drop his head, wings moving to hide what could not be concealed so easily. "I was p-playing...out in the woods and...and he just came and...and he told me to die, and he did this and...and it burned and I couldn't think and it hurt, hurt everywhere..." voice growing in a panic, eyes turning wild as he had a temporary flashback of that terrible afternoon. Wings moved closer to protect himself from somebody who would never hurt him. Ilaria noticed and scampered up his neck to balance precariously on his poll. Pulling on his ears and cooing softly, awakening him from the terrible memory. Cera took in a deep shaking breath and continued in a tiny, weak voice. "Daddy...daddy said he poisoned me...Miss Onni saved me, but...but I wasn't supposed to live..." It hurt to know that, that he'd barely been saved at all. That his heart had been so close to giving out, to meeting the gods in the expanse of heaven. Taking a few moments to collect himself Cera looked up and smiled at Note, gaining back a semblance of himself. "But...but that doesn't matter...how are you? I missed you!" Giggling and smiling like he normally did, though not with the brightness it normally held. Trying his best despite all of it, muzzle reaching out to touch Note's. Retreating only after a brief touch, unable to hold much more contact. Smiling through eyes that were haunted.

Standing before Note felt like he was on trial, or awaiting a death penalty. If Note was disgusted with him, angry...it wasn't logical for Note to be any of those things but lately Cera had found that he wasn't being too logical. It seemed he was ruled entirely by his heart and emotions, though he always had been in the past as well. It was what allowed him to give so much love to others, but now he feared he was too scared to ever open up that far again. But like Midas said, they would work through it in time, for Cera wasn't about to go through life changed and always terrified because of someone else. He had good days and bad days, but he tried his hardest to be the Cera he used to be. Not the Cera that was ruled by the shadows and the scar on his chest.

Velvet muzzle wiped away a tear on his cheek and Cera managed a smile, calming his tears for his friend. The cherub didn't know about Note's scar, but found comfort from his affection nevertheless. Older stallion played along with it, and Cera was relieved. He didn't want to dwell on bad thoughts, he wanted to enjoy being reunited with his friend. It didn't bother him that Note was an adult, anyone was in danger of being sucked into Cera's little family if they so much as smiled at him. Cera giggled, a little stronger than before, and Ilaria chirped at Note as if knowing he was talking about her. Tail flickering and swaying behind her as if to greet the older pegasus. "Her name is Ilaria," Cera admitted shyly, clearly proud and touched that Note thought she was adorable. Complimenting Ilaria was like complimenting him, for they had already grown extremely close despite the relatively new bond. Ilaria huffed and tugged on Cera's ear making him laugh softly and open his mind to the images she was giving him. "She likes you, since you helped us bond..." trailing off as he smiled and didn't realize he had stopped talking, engaging in a mental conversation of images and feelings with Ilaria.

He jerked out of it when Ilaria fondly corrected him, feeling rather embarrassed that he'd just spaced out with her when talking with Note. Uncomfortably shifting, the brief happiness dwindling down once more. Listeners perked up in interest and Cera lifted his eyes to Note with a small, hesitant nod that made Ilaria grumble slightly from being moved.

Cera didn’t get to listen to stories very often, for he was usually off on his own most of the day without supervision. It got lonely, but he didn’t know what he was missing and therefore couldn’t miss it. Stories were strange and fun to him, for Midas only spun them when they were both settled down in the glow of twilight under their tree. It had to be the right time, and Cera was usually lulled off to sleep by words of bravery and magic, never truly hearing the end. He didn’t know what Note had in store for him, but both he and Ilaria listened attentively. She had nestled back up on his back and only listened for a few moments before wrapping herself into a ball and pulling her tail over her nose, trying to sleep. Even so she was half awake, ready to comfort Cera as she didn’t know how he would react around Note considering he’d already neared a breakdown once.

Cherub fliched slightly when Note spoke. A cruel daddy? Would that be like having the devil that had done this to him as a father? Horror clawed at his belly and he felt vaguely sick, and wanted to shout for Note to stop. All he had to base off of was Midas, who was seemingly made for fatherhood, and the idea of a cruel father was torture. What if he had been taken in by someone like that? But he listened anyways, face darkening and twisting with his words. “The colt lost his laughter, and didn't know what love was. But he realized this life was wrong, so he ended the life of his daddy. His daddy was not happy, and fought very hard for his life, but lost in the end.” Cera felt sick, imagining this in the possibility that it could have very easily happened to him. The idea of losing his laughter, that wasn’t so foreign to him because it had already happened to him in the recent past. But killing your own daddy? It made him feel far too much naseau and agony, mind bringing up images he did not want at all. Ilaria stirred and tugged on his amulet to assure him that she was there, washing over the images with images of Midas smiling and promising him tearily to never leave him. Cera calmed and quieted, though he didn’t let the horror slide from his face. It wasn’t conspicuous but it was certainly there. Even so he didn’t ask Note to stop, feeling like he couldn’t even if he tried. Colt felt the same wistful love for the sky as he spoke, knowing that he would never be able to beat it into submission. That his fear was only making it harder on him, and that in order to fly correctly he would need to give up that fear. Because he wouldn’t let d’Artagnan keep him from the skies where he belonged.

Then Note turned and lifted his wing and revealed to Cera a long jagged scar that looked painful no matter how old it was. Instinctively he moved his wings to cover his own chest, thanking his rather large wingspan for the ability to do so. Shying away from the image, not wanting to imagine it. And then he realized that Note had been speaking about himself, and felt dizzy again. For a long moment he just looked back and forth between Note’s face and his scar. Finally letting trembling words fall from sandy lips. ”B-But…how do I d-deal with it?” Voice turning small and weak, helpless. ”I can’t h-hide it…” Wings tightened around him as if to create a permanent physical barrier between his scar and the eyes of everyone he would ever meet. How could he possibly do what Note had, be brave enough to deal with it? Could he really handle the emotions that would come from seeing everyone stare? Was he strong enough?

Charcoal visage is set in stone that Cera has never seen on him before, and it is disconcerting for the colt. That face does not belong on Note, it isn’t the Note he knows at all, and he wants to turn and flee at the sight of it. They all have their demons, but Cera at his age didn’t really understand that. He only sees the frigid stare on his friend’s face, and feels awkward and out of place standing before him. Ilaria soothes him softly, unable to do much else but suspecting that her bonded was simply taking the expression the wrong way. She understood him, held him deep in her core and loved him for every little flaw and broken piece. So, seeing Note sucked so deep into thought, she removed her emotions from where they were naturally so intertwined with his. Instead pulsing soothing, understanding motions through their bond. Slowly, beneath her careful ministrations, he relaxed. Flight instinct shuddering and crumpling beneath her careful watch. When the tension in his lanky body finally disappeared she purred roughly and the two reached out their love to each other and latched onto the other for comfort and a sense of understanding. Ilaria understood Cera better than even Midas, and knew he was simply fearful that he had done something to upset Note, to place that face upon his normally kind looks.

Sympathy softens the visage Cera had found so uncomfortable to bear witness to, and the colt managed an honest smile. His wings did not hold up much restraint when Note used his own to spread them away from his chest. It still makes him twitch once it is revealed, but he flicked his gaze up at the stallion trustingly. He is still shaken by the story, but Note is one of his best friends despite their age difference. ”If you look at it a different way, you’re not just dealing with it, you’re conquering it.” Cera quietly mulled over those words, pushing them about his brain meaningfully. Ilaria stared back at Note before flicking her fluffy tail and giving a soft chirruping noise, clearly approving. He had pushed her limit with that story, sending Cera into a frenzy of emotions like that, but he had only meant the best it seemed. So long as he did not intend to harm Cera like that again, he would stay on the good side of her rather protective personality. Cera sometimes thought she had a little person complex, but in reality it was just her personality reflecting many aspects that Cera did not have.

Note’s words had Cera not only becoming more comfortable, but nearly glowing with hope. Did Note really see him as strong? Was it true that he possessed the will and strength to actually show his scar without fear? Cera looked up at Note, not only literally but figuratively as well. He and Note were surprisingly similar, and he hoped that someday he could be as comfortable in his skin as the older male. The soft almost kiss to his forehead made Cera giggle, irises brightening considerably. When Note pulled away he bumped their muzzles together happily, exuberantly. ”Do ya really think I can?” His eyes held trust and hope, knowing he could make it through all this if he had Midas and Note to guide him through it.