Sultan. Who would have thought that one word could hold so much meaning, so many connotations? Since he was a little boy still latched to his dam's teat, Volterra has wanted to be a king. He has craved dominion,
power, for as long as he can remember, and he geared his whole life towards obtaining his goal. He strengthened his body through endless battles, hardening muscles that were already well-bred and powerful; he obtained magic to help him on his way, fierce dragons to fight at his side. He began to show an interest in politics, in the delicate spiderweb of herd relations, the subtleties that had always been lost on a man so
big, so
blatant in everything he did.
The titan's dream is now a reality. He stands as Sultan, as emperor of the Dragon's Throat, lord over these golden sands. In the Sun God's name he holds the crown of one of the largest herds in Helovia, and he is hard-pressed to suppress his utter delight in the new position he's found himself in. There's a spring in his step, a powerful, authoritative addition to his stride; the throne he now holds is obvious in the thick curve of his neck, in the regal set of his face. His dragons are, if possible, even more overjoyed than him, especially Vadir. "I queen, you king," she gleefully tells him as she soars alongside him, one leathery wingtip brushing gently against his side. Vérzés nestles into his broad back, his ruby scales glimmering beneath the harsh sun of their home.
The stallion has no goal in particular with today's idle plod around the desert; he's simply wandering his kingdom, bathing in his good fortune and contemplating the future of glory that he will lead the Throat into. Lost in thought, Volterra finds himself approaching the oasis, and Vadir immediately increases the pace of her wings to send herself zooming faster through the air. She sends her bonded a quick image of a familiar bay man stood at the water's edge, before plummeting like a golden cannonball into the centre of the lake. She emerges from the depths with a wiggling fish clutched in her strong jaws, which she joyously devours whilst floating lazily on her back.
Volterra snorts his amusement at his dragon's antics as he edges closer to the mahogany man nearby. "Reichenbach," comes the Indomitable's baritone rumble, his broad skull dipping in greeting to the other equine. He'd recruited the man when he'd still been Gladiator, but he is sure word has spread about his recent promotion. "How are you finding the Throat?"
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