the monument of a memory {open}

The kind reply startles Cera in a way, and he listens in contemplative silence as Smith proposes this alternate idea. Hums softly in the hollow of his throat, and traces the scar on his chest once more. A telling habit, not that it mattered for someone who wore their heart on their sleeve as he did, but one that brings a grounding sense of comfort. "Self-esteem is like a warped mirror at times though, distorting the truth of the self in your own beholding eyes," he says softly. But a small smile comes to his lips nonetheless, eyes flicking to the snowy raven. "But you're right, as I'm sure you often are," he teases, quite enjoying the intellectual conversation. It was a breath of fresh air after so many years raised by a thousand variations of soldiers and kings.

Warmth floods across the tenuous bond between them, and it catches Cera a little off guard. He pokes at it tentatively with his mind, inquisitive. So could it transfer more than direct, worded thoughts? "Interesting," he whispers euphorically to himself. Quite an advanced method of magical communication between Attuneds. He almost wishes he'd had it in previous realms.

All it takes for Smith to be firmly cemented in Cera's mind as a friend is the mere mention of metalworking, and fireworks must surely be alight in his eyes as he swiftly turns to look at Smith, dazzled. "You are a crafter too, Smith? Surely you can't be so perfect!" he teases, but his voice is suffused with a deep abiding joy. It helps soothe the sting of Smith's last, hollow-ringing words. Of course, no land is without its troubles. The existence of any kind of higher-thinking creature always seemed to lead to such problems, which lent itself to many philosophical debates.

A frown plays at his lips, a seriousness drawn over his eyes to darken them. "Tyranny, and self-professed tyranny at that, never lasts long against the might of the masses. Especially those who suffer beneath it." Each word rings with a dead sort of weight, remembering a thousand lifetimes worth of kings and queens being toppled by those they were supposed to lead. A thread of concern tugs around his neck like a noose, and he's careful not to dislodge Isuma as he turns to pin Smith with his gaze. "Are you safe? You seem to know quite a lot about this Tyrant, is word of mouth that strong already?" Already his desire to shield and protect this new friend and guide of his builds in his chest, as willing to devote and sacrifice himself as he always had been in the past.

If the mirror is too warped, there are still other ways, the raven acknowledged with a wry mental chuckle, even as Isuma chirruped her approval of Cera's teasing good humor, patting his ear with a gentle foretalon. When self-reflection does not suffice, danger and fear often provide the impetus to shift to a form that can better hide, or flee, or fight. It's not the preferred method, but it's a fairly common one here. The admission was a bit rueful, and he cocked his head at his new friend with dry amusement. I am not right nearly as often as I would like to be... and often when I am, I wish I wasn't! He had a bad habit of predicting the worst, which all too often came to pass...

Cera lit up as brightly as Caiside once had, and the raven chortled, flipping his wings as if to perish the thought. Not a proper crafter, but my father was one, he explained. I learned whether I wanted to or not. At the time I didn't appreciate the lessons but now... well. Now I find myself returning to the forge at times, to honor his memory. He would never have Caiside's skill, much less Old Smitty's, but he could heat the coals, read the color shifts, and pound iron, silver, and gold into simple shapes.

Talk of soldiering brought them around to weightier subjects, and Jigano fluttered to a new branch before dipping his head in agreement as he watched Cera and Isuma catch up. She pushes too far, too fast, he agreed grimly. This place has not known a ruler in generations. On the surface there might be fearful obedience, but underneath... be aware, Cera, that the city seethes. He croaked a quiet counterpoint to his words, but the unexpected question and concern over his personal safety was touching from a stranger who had so many other things to worry about, and Jigano fluffed his feathers as he debated on his answer.

I am... not known for my obedience to tyrants, he said at last. But I am safe so long as I keep my wits about me and do not let her guards catch me, he added, with that wry amusement that underlay so much of his manner.

A talon tickles against his ear, and Cera laughs softly as Smith kindly provides an alternative. "Hopefully it won't have to come to that, at least I have past experience that will hopefully come to use." Without knowing the dangers of the world he found himself in, he'd rather practice alone in the future. "Ah, the curse of accuracy," he chortles, but a certain sympathy strings along his words. He knows the difficulty of being right when you don't want to be, and wishes they were close enough to offer some sort of physical comfort as was his way.

Grief wraps around his heart at the honor and love in Smith's voice, his own face falling. He's unused to the emotional vulnerability of this form, but the ache of loss is universal. "I am sure he would be proud of you for continuing the art, no matter if you are a master of it," he assures with a firm sincerity that is unwavering even though he knew next to nothing about Smith's father. "What path did you seek on your own? You are quite wise, do you provide counsel to others?" Steering the conversation away from topics riddled with his own grief, he distracts himself with the question, bringing up a hand to waggle his fingers playfully at Isuma. Her presence alone was grounding, delightful, and he loathed the idea of having to say goodbye to the charming pair.

"If I can help you, in any way, I will do what I can," he vows, jaw twitching hard as flint at the notion of such a cruel master of the land. "I've no idea the kind of help I could offer, but I'll repay what I can. If you can find me wherever I happen to put down roots," he adds with a laugh, because he certainly has no idea where he'll end up.

Past experience? the raven queried, openly curious as he cocked his head at the new arrival who Isuma had taken such a shine to. He croaked a wordless agreement at Cera's definition of the 'curse' that he bore as best he could, amused but feeling the sting of truth to it as well. I don't know whether I should hope you share that curse or not, he admitted with a mental chuckle.

Mention of his father was bittersweet. He genuinely loved the man, but he had not taken the path his sire had wanted for him and sparks had been struck between them once he made it clear that he would not be following in the older kitsune's footsteps at the forge. He hopped ahead to another branch, thinking through his answer carefully. His disguise would matter little if the newcomer shared it with Zariah's guards... but Cera had only seen his raven form, and his feathers were dyed close enough to black at the moment that the information would do the Tyrant little good. I am a lorekeeper and a bard, he said at last, humming thoughtfully to himself across the mental link. I seek out knowledge in books and from people. On my world I was also an Oracle, though there is no equivalent of that here. Wisdom, I cannot lay much claim to, but lore? Of that I have much I can share, he acknowledged.

Isuma was perfectly happy to be distracted, balancing on three legs (and one wing outstretched away from Cera's head) and reaching out with a foretalon to bat gently at the wiggling fingers that teased her. I appreciate that, the raven said, croaking gratefully to emphasize the words. And... you may call me Jigano, if you want, he added, a little sheepishly. Don't let Zariah or her guards know that you ran into us out here and it will be more than enough. If you find yourself wandering here or in the Glade from time to time, I'm sure our paths will cross once more. And I know the Settlement well enough that I should be able to find you, if I'm able to walk it freely again. Once I was the leader of the Loreseeker's Guild, and we welcomed all curious minds, willing to learn and teach, to our Hall in the Atheneum. Now... well. He sighed, wry humor tinged with sadness. As a wanted criminal I can lead nothing officially. But I do not doubt that the Guild will survive, and you would be welcome among our number, friend Cera, should you wish allies and friends of keen mind, he added with a flicker of determined hope to his tone.

"I would say to hope not, but at times it's better to be right and therefore prepared for the worst," he admits with a soft laugh. Preparing for the worst and hoping for the best was his long-time motto, and it had spared him a lot of pain and heartache over the years. For Cera it was always a balancing act between optimism and believing the best in people, and preparing himself for destruction, betrayal, and loss.

Quiet descends upon them for a long moment after Cera poses his question, but he's content to leave Smith to his thoughts and decision-making. He certainly has enough experience in his pocket to know that not everyone is so forthcoming and trusting as himself. Still, he always hopes that what he puts out into the world is what he will receive, and in turn Smith gives his answer across the mental link. Companionship swirls in his breast and Cera cannot help but to gaze admiringly at Smith. "That's and endless but admirable lifestyle," he compliments, despite the curiosity gnawing away like a rabid raccoon in his mind. "I was an Oracle - or as we called it, a Diviner - for a time as well. Though if the Gods are as you say here, perhaps it's best we're both relinquished from those duties huh?" a soft huff of a laugh escapes alongside the words. Perhaps they had far more in common than expected.

"Though I must say it's difficult not to keep you here until dusk asking you for stories and knowledge!" It's still a temptation, so desperate to learn about this new land both for survival purposes and his own endless thirst. Smith had been kinder than words could describe, patient with Cera's confusion and questions, and he was loathe to say goodbye whether that was in ten minutes or ten hours. Nevertheless, he'd make the most of the amount of time allotted.

Cera allows his fingertips to be caught and pricked by Isuma's claws, twisting his hand to playfully grab back at her claws with his fingers. Distracted though he is by her adorable antics, the solemnity of Smith's words - or Jigano, as he offers - is enough to lend his ear sharply. "Ran into who?" he parrots in age-old humor, though the serious set of his brow is enough to show that he would never intend such a deception. "I can hope that your time as a criminal is brief, I'd like nothing more than to see you walk freely and welcome me to your Guild." Already he is memorizing the word given, Atheneum, to seek out when they arrive at the Settlement. "Do you need me to relay any kind of message to those who may still be part of it?" It's the least he coan offer after all of Jigano's help.

The raven croaked wry agreement, though he was still curious what that 'past experience' Cera had mentioned was. Still, if the other man didn't want to answer his question, he wouldn't pry. They were each entitled to their secrets, especially since they had only recently met. Perhaps they could share more personal stories when next they met, but for now his new friend had enough to deal with, learning about a new world. At least he was taking it better than many who came through the portals, in various states of denial and disbelief!

He fluffed his feathers in appreciation at the compliment, but he found himself chortling aloud at Cera's words. Are you sure you aren't from Helovia? he teased. I think Melita mentioned something about Diviners there, as well. But from what she said there is something lost in the translation between the two. I was not an augury Oracle, though my mother had a touch of that power. It is more that I was born with an innate channel for divine energies, instead of choosing to dedicate my life to and being accepted by a particular god. He shook himself at the mention of the local gods, however, his humor fading as he gave a sharp nod of agreement with his fellow ex-oracle's point.Once an Oracle, always an Oracle, he said, a flicker of more complex emotions lading his mental tone. But my connection to divine powers is gone. So it is like having all of the instincts and responsibilities of being one, without the divine assistance to fulfill those duties. Ah well. He muddled along as best he could, even if it wasn't enough for Safrin's pleasure.

If we all didn't need to eat, I would happily entertain your questions that long! the raven assured his friend, fluttering down towards a bush that still held a handful of autumn-ripe berries and plucking a few with his facile beak. But I will answer as long as you have questions you wish to ask, at least. Isuma was old enough to hunt on her own, and both of them were not so hungry that missing a meal would hurt them.

The tentative trust he offered the newcomer was returned with clever words, but a serious mien, and Jigano relaxed a little more as he croaked glad appreciation of Cera's quick wits and willingness to keep his secret. Thank you, he spoke, sincerity pulsing through the Attuned link. Amalia has ways to get a hold of me if she needs to, but I appreciate the offer. She is another you would do well to meet; a baker and something of a priestess to Safrin, the star-touched goddess. You will know her by the small flying starwhale that is her companion, he added with a fond chuckle. Jyoti is, as far as I know, unique, and hard to miss.

Are you sure you aren't from Helovia?

Helovia.

Helovia.

It rings in his head in a dizzying crescendo until everything else ceases, steps faltering, eyes glazing over, hands falling limp at his side. He can see it all, no matter how old the memories become; the sun setting over the sands of the Throat, the comforting shadow of Gaucho always at his side, Midas' laugh, Ilaria's soft paws touching his face lovingly. The things, the people, he'd loved the most. It slams into him with a grief that he can't swallow past, scarcely able to breathe. A secret he'd carried in his mind, a name he'd vowed never to speak as he'd fallen through portal after portal until familiar faces stopped appearing.

Until now. Until here.

He doesn't realize he's trembling, distantly hearing Jigano's words as he finally sucks in a shaking breath. Cera has enough presence of mind to wait, to listen, to do his best to be a good friend and listener despite the blow he has just been delivered. Only then does he shakily raise his voice, scarcely daring to hope, to ask, terrified of the answer he may be given.

Hope was always a sharper knife than grief.

"You...you said Helovia?" he whispers, forcing his steps to falter forward. Clinging to some sense of propriety. "They...there are others? From there? They're here?" His voice finally cracks, because he doesn't care who. He will take anyone, welcome them with open arms and a heart full of understanding, no matter if they were enemies, friends, lovers, family, strangers. "I...I'm sorry I just...I didn't think it was possible after all this time," he whispers, trying to collect himself and not make Jigano feel uncomfortable with the force of his emotions.

He drums up a smile, a tad shaky at the edges but sincere nonetheless. "Connection to the Gods is not something that fades easily," he agrees, though he is loathe to find a new deity to worship - if he does - and is dismayed by the news that these Gods are far less agreeable. Even in their worst rages, Cera had always held fast to his faith in Helovia.

"Amalia. I will remember the name, and I'll see if I can plead some sweets out from under her thumb," he laughs, free hand patting his stomach jokingly. He's not exactly starving yet, but his stomach is making itself heard in terms of getting food in there soon. "We had flying whales in...in Helovia as well. Beautiful, though I never saw many of them. I'll keep an eye for them both," he assures, even as his tongue still trips over his homeland's name, still hesitant to use it.

He listened as he spoke with his mind, hearing the catch of breath and letting curiosity lead his words, mentioning Melita and Diviners to see what recognition they might spark. Cera's whisper, full of more emotion than he had expected, brought his fluttering progress to a halt, and he hopped around to face his new friend, head tilted in concerned appraisal of the young man who followed in his wake. He chirred reassuringly at the apology, fluffing his wings as if to wave it away. No apologies, he spoke gently. The portals to this place cross space and time. Some have arrived from Helovia, others... have traveled worlds and lives between there and here, before finding themselves on Caido. Some have clear memories, others only have dreams. I've heard something of that world from them, though. The false god, the chaos, the destruction... He sighed aloud, an odd trilling noise as he watched Cera, hoping that it was friends and not enemies who he would find on this side of the portal.

Melita. Kiada. Deimos. I think... perhaps Rexanna, too. He listed the names he knew, the ones who had spoken of other lives in other places, but especially of Helovia, and knowing each other in past worlds. There may be others, but those are the ones I have spoken to, or heard of.

The raven bobbed his head in agreement at how well Cera understood the vagaries of gods and the differences between worlds and pantheons. Jigano had something of an easier time, at least, being an oracle rather than a priest, and having had his own lapse in faith several years before coming to Caido, but it was still comforting to know that someone else shared some portion of that feeling, something that Amalia and Rory, dear though they were to him, would never truly know.

She is happy to see people enjoying her creations, the bard reassured the traveler, croaking amusement at Cera's theatrics. She shouldn't be too hard to convince. Seek Devas Bakery once you are in the Settlement, and you'll find a good meal and likely another new friend as well!

Cera smiles shakily as Jigano stops, settling on a branch and waving away his apologies with a gesture of his blackened wings. The gratitude he feels for the allowed moment to come to grips with his emotions is indescribable. He had spent so many years concealing them for the sake of others, it was habitual to try to repress them and apologize for inconveniencing others now. Cera turns to continue walking, not wanting to impede their progress with his own recoiling shock.

"I traveled through many realms before I came here, but the memories are as clear as they could hope to be. An entire lifetime gone, countless lost...it is a grief that I will carry forever, but knowing even a handful made it here safely as well, I can't help but feel relief and gratitude." At least they had not lost their lives, which was all Cera could hope for some days. There had been so much death in that last battle, so much senseless loss...it still haunts his dreams, recalling the terror as he saw them swept away into the portal like helpless sheep, watched his Gods crumble as they sacrificed themselves for the uncaring masses of Helovia. He knows his daughter is not here, confirms it as names come to him from Jigano's mind, but he prays that she is somewhere safe, that she does not doubt that Cera loved her wholeheartedly and would until the Gods finally deigned to claim his soul and return him to her.

"Melita and Deimos, those names I know. Melita was but a babe when I last saw her," he muses, remembering her fawnlike legs and how she'd clung to Najya, one of Cera's friends from that sun-washed age. It summons a nostalgic smile, wondering how she was faring now, though she'd likely not know him with how young she had been. With a deep, purposeful inhale that he holds in his chest, he turns his eyes to the horizon and lets it slip slowly from his lips. "I can't thank you enough Jigano, for giving me this. It brings me a comfort I can't put to words, to know some made it here, that others may have landed safely elsewhere," he murmurs, casting his gaze to the raven with sincerity creased in the lines of his face.

Lighter conversational fare is a nice turn, with so much on Cera's mind. A less burdened smile comes to brighten his face at the idea of a new friend, a kindly face, perhaps some warm food. "I'm afraid I have a sweet tooth as long as my leg, she'll have to fend me off with a broom before long," he admits with a bubbling laugh.

He listened as Cera spoke, giving his new friend the time he needed to find the words to encompass emotions that Jigano could only guess at. He had never found another from his world on Caido, nor anyone who had so much as heard of it, much less someone he had known. It was a bittersweet emotion that washed over him every time he found another newcomer from Northhaven or Helovia, watching those networks and families grow while he remained apart.

Melita is bright and wild and joyous and fierce, the raven chuckled, tucking the unbecoming envy away, determined that it would not color the friendships he forged by luck and hard work. She is a young woman here, perhaps as much as eighteen summers. A hunter and a warrior, an explorer and an adventurer. She is companion to Fangorn, a vampire gourd as enthusiastic as she is. She fares very well indeed. Or at least she had when last he'd seen her. He bobbed his head in acceptance of Cera's thanks, though it was a small enough gift that he could give the newcomer to ease his arrival on a strange world.

The trees began to thin as they made their way towards the edge of the woods, the open spaces of farmer's fields beginning to peek through the underbrush. As the light grew brighter, undimmed by the canopy of leaves overhead, Jigano was glad that their mood lightened as well. More like she'll recruit you to help make the sweets! he chuckled both aloud and through the Attuned link. And as fate would have it, she is Deimos's partner as well, so if you visit her you may run into him. Whether that is for good or for ill, he added with a note of wry caution. The big man was miserly with his words, and a warrior who rarely smiled. He wasn't sure what relationship Cera may have had with him, especially since Jigano's own experiences with Deimos had been... rocky.

Jigano's silence - calm, courteous, considering - was worth far more in that moment than Cera could put to words. To have his entire world spun on its head, reminded of a world he thought long lost and forgotten behind him, was no easy pill to swallow. It left him grieving for those who had not found their way to Caido, while also trying to squash the hope in his breast that others may follow, and still in the end wishing to find all others who had hailed from the same land. It was a difficult menagerie of emotions, and he could think of few other scenarios where a stranger would be so kind as to give him the information he desperately needed while allowing him to struggle through his own responses in his own time.

"She was always a miniature sun, even in Helovia," he admits with a laugh softer than his normal decibel. Fond and sorrowful in the same vein and breath. "But you have definitely caught my attention - did you say vampire gourd? As in a vampiric plant? With sentience?" He can't help but strangle his guffaws, absolutely blown away by the idea of a food-based companion. If anyone would manage it, of course it would be little Melita though.

He is sad to see the trees thin, the path grow more well-traveled, knowing his time with Jigano shortens by the moment. Even so he tunes in eagerly to the link between them, not wanting to waste a moment of their time together if it had to end so soon. "I'm sure beating up some helpless dough will help my post-portal frustrations," he laughs, only sobering at the idea of running into Deimos so quickly. "Hmm...we never had a distinct relationship, but a tense one between our lands when I was a child. One of his warriors nearly killed me as a child for being a different species," he allows, mouth pinching at the corners and hand drifting to the scar on his chest that had transferred with him from Helovia. Then he shakes his head and smiles wistfully. "But those sins don't transfer from the originator, and he mended the laws of his land with time. I'm sure it will be interesting to discover how he has changed," is allowed, trying to remain optimistic nonetheless.

---

So sorry for the delay <3

There was too much to convey, too much to learn and grapple with when one stepped unwillingly between worlds - or was pushed, or fell, as the cases might be. Some things could only be truly understood with time, and others would have to be felt before they could be known. As much as he wished to offer Cera all the experience and wisdom he had gained in the past year upon Caido, he could only give so much in this first meeting before stepping back and letting it all sink in, lest they risk losing important knowledge in the tide of new information. The bard had spent a week prowling the woods in the shape of a fox before he had ventured into town, letting his thoughts settle and come to grips with what had happened to him. The least he could do was give Cera a few minutes now towards the same end.

A common hazard in autumn - Leafchange, as it's called here, the raven explained, glad to hear the genuine fondness in his friend's voice for Melita. They're a... 'sentient' might be going a bit far, but they're gourds that act like... well, like rabid animals, usually. They've got eyes and mouths cut into them, and a fire burning within as they hop and roll after anything they can catch. Magical creatures, without a doubt. They're mostly a nuisance, but they can  leave a nasty bruise and be a menace to children and smaller animals. Fangorn, I'm glad to say, is lively but well-behaved. Or at least, as well-behaved as his mistress! Which was to say, prone to mischief and not averse to a little mayhem on the side.

Deimos, it seemed, rarely inspired great joy in those who had known him. The raven bobbed his head in a cautious nod, a flicker of startlement in the Attuned link that one of Deimos's soldiers had hurt his friend. Especially over something so foolish! But Cera continued, waving away the worry that had started to fill the raven's breast, and the dyed bird croaked a thoughtful agreement. It is hard to think of him 'changing', he admitted. He seems too stubborn for that. He glanced slyly back at the man accompanying him as he landed on the last outstretched branch before the trees fell away completely. The Settlement was visible as a scatter of ruined buildings nearer at hand, but the path dove through them towards more intact structures, and a few larger buildings towards the center, though they looked small from this distance.

Isuma leapt from Cera's shoulder in a sudden bound, wings flaring to catch the wind and light both as she flew to a branch above Jigano, chirruping a cheerful apology to the new arrival. Those two tall buildings that you see? The round one is the Atheneum, the other is the Temple. You should be able to find help in either place, or at least people willing to direct you to where you can get what you need. I will look forward to seeing you again, friend Cera, and hopefully under brighter skies!

The idea of a blood thirsty but otherwise harmless gourd is honestly the best news Cera has heard all morning. In fact it's downright cheerful, and he can't help his own bubbling laughter at the idea of Melita's little food companion being tamed. Certainly if anyone could manage such a feat it would be the little spitfire. "I'm sure I shouldn't find the idea amusing but they sound like an adorable sort of creature, in a violent way," he chortles helplessly.

Still, to know Melita was a young woman, likely not far from the age of this physical body he inhabited, was still a rocking revelation. How had she grown? Had any of her physical features transfered over? Had any of his? Cera jolted slightly as he realized that he had absolutely no idea what he looked like, aside from the shade of his skin on his hands and the long blond hair that draped over his shoulders. His scars had transferred at least. What else?

Startlement across the link gives him enough of a pause from his thoughts, and he smiles softly over at Jigano. It had taken him a long time and the guidance of the God he worshiped to overcome that particular attack. Recalling how the times had changed, but also just how young he had been, made the father inside cringe with fear. How had his own father felt that day, carrying his dying son across his shoulders, praying for swiftness in step and slowness in the poison that sought Cera's life?

"We can only change as much as we allow ourselves," he agrees with a wry smile and a soft hum in his throat. Deimos was a foreign, omnipotent shadow in his history. Cera would never have registered on his radar, but the idea of running into him was still nerve wracking.

In the end, time is short and the hours before him are long. As the trees fall away and Isuma departs from his shoulder, Cera tries not to grieve their departure, already trying to hold onto this new connection with both hands in this strange world. But they will meet again, he knows this. Even Jigano states it hopefully across their connection. He turns to smile at the Raven and his companion, gratitude flowing strong from his own side. "Stay safe, Jigano," he pleads, though the man seems more than capable. Cera would still hate to see him hurt or captured. "Until next time!" He calls as he waves over his shoulder, striding forward towards the little dilapidated town. There will be a next time, he's sure of it.