Sulfur

Many of his 'cousins' looked up to him. Of course, the joke there was that that was because he was nearly 6'4 and barely '17'. He knew they told that joke, he'd heard. But his father warned him not to overreact to such things. After all, Mars knew how holding a grudge could come back to haunt him. And he said so with a haunted look in his eyes that was a stronger warning than his words.

Sulfur and Beryl were the favored children, Absinthe the outsider in their little family. Mars was not particularly a 'father figure' so much as a coach, instructor in magical arts and politics, confidant. The tall, blond haired man obviously took pride in having been chosen for the roster of parents on their 'project', and pride was something that all his children could say they echoed.

Sulfur most of all, it seemed. But like his genetic sire, Sulfur's was not without reason. It was always clear that he'd be in a leadership role, if not for Turquoise. But even then, Sulfur recognized that Turquoise delegated anything he needed to; that Indigo fairly wanted others to have their spotlight; with others among the 'leaders', the Color Guard would want for nothing.

So even though he wanted, Sulfur took it in stride that there would always be those who turned to another of their group for their orders. After all, it was more the normal people that needed to be herded around. And he was quite good at that. Where Turquoise and he can soundly agree is that some people need to be given orders and respond best to a particular style of rule. And where Lane's offspring inherited something of that entity's hesitation to 'rule', Mars Callifatan's didn't. Without pause, Sulfur will approach a group as though he's already been put in charge, and more often than not the tactic works for him. Without even having to put any effort into it, really: he is charismatic - though not as charming as he is smart.

The other facet that Sulfur and Turquoise agree upon is that sometimes... shady deals have to be made. Leadership doesn't always have the luxury of being out in the open about everything they do. And thankfully in that regard, Turquoise allows Sulfur to have this aspect almost entirely to himself. Sulfur's ability to seek out or spot in a crowd, someone who knows what he needs and isn't afraid to do it... To know the best times to approach a shady figure, to make a deal that leaves a bad taste in anyone else's mouth. Sulfur and his sister all but revel in this. Of course, Absinthe revels entirely differently...

To an uninformed observer, Sulfur's behavior might seem... a bit dark. He's a lot like a crooked politician in the making, heading to a world where politicians aren't needed any longer. But there's something to be said about that: though the people he is associated with are the ones with the dragons and with the means to 'save the world', the people below them (at least 'in his eyes') still need the feeling like things are as they were. They won't be the same without politicians, without the stability and expectations of the old world's patterns.

Now, of course, throw in the fact that Sulfur and Beryl can use magic, it does kind of change things a bit. But both of them keep their 'actual hand waving magic use' to a minimum in public settings. Sulfur's is much more internalized than his sister's, he doesn't rely on ritual or wands, or even spell casting in general. He uses magic in much the same way as any other Vortal inhabitant of the Rookery would use their psychic powers: to sense, observe, communicate, learn, record. Tucked away in his magical trap of a mind are all the facts and figures he needs to keep the place going and get people where they need to be.

Sulfur's only real issue here is that he doesn't genuinely like people. At least, not those people. True, there are some normal folks who have managed to impress him. Not sports figures or fashion models of course, but politicians and educators. He respects knowledge and tact, values excellence even if it's from a more or less mundane source. To be able to overcome that 'hindrance' in his eyes is a feat indeed. And like his sire, Sulfur does reward that excellence with whatever benefits he can work to his own advantage.

He is a politician after all.

***

It was flipping cold. The 'nest' up here in the cloud-surrounded mountains was positively frigid. And unlike some of his cousins, Sulfur hadn't learned much about how to manipulate the Vortessence and keep his body regulated. He shivered, quaking like a... well, like a tall, skinny kid with no body fat in a mountain-top retreat.

"Did you not bring any warmer clothing?" Someone asked, and he shakingly turned to them, teeth literally clattering. "Oh, well - don't worry. There are always more jackets. Let me find you something!" He was a chipper little pesant, Sulfur thought. Boys like him, and girls as well, scurried around this place. Busy like bees, not all of them happy and humming but certainly a well-organized bunch. He returned momentarily and Sulfur looked at the offered jacket.

It was locally made, obviously. It was stitched leather, fur lined. And while Sulfur certainly could appreciate a nice fur coat, this was not by any means a nice fur coat. It was apparently more like a riding jacket, something to keep their dragon riders warm while out on patrols.

Well, he might as well get used to that - he knew he had been sent here for a reason anyway, to find himself a dragon.

Sulfur put his opinion in check: to hope for a dragon to find him. Be reasonable, he thought, be reasonable and remember the training. There was always the chance that a dragon would not come to him - any clutch, any nest, on any world, they all had their druthers about what sorts of people would walk away bonded. Impressed, paired, whatever the term was. Here, it was Impressed, which he thought was appropriate. A dragon should be impressed by him.

And he, he should be impressed by the dragon, too. If he wasn't, what sort of person would he be? He pondered this for several chilled days. He had to share a dorm with two other males, spoke little, thought a lot. This really was happening, he was at a mountaintop weyr, with dragons that could breathe fire and teleport, who defended their world and flew over it in style.

Even the little ones, even the most 'common' of dragons were still a sight. For someone as arrogant as he, Sulfur still found himself in awe looking at the queen of this clutch. She was old, but she was still a queen. It didn't look like she was in any way frail or infirm, just that she'd done her duty for the world for a long enough time. He wondered absently as they were led to the hatching eggs, what would she do next, then? If not this?

Wasn't that the question that anyone had to wonder about? What about him? What about when the Color Guard and the Rookery were not needed for cleaning up after the Combine? Of course, those days would be distant... if they came. Even with dragons, even with magic and Vortal powers, he had to wonder how long it would really take before their world would be 'safe'.

Sulfur knew that Turquoise's sire had come from a world where they'd defeated the Combine. So it could be done. Then he realized, that was what people did 'after' - they went to other worlds, they went and became heroes and educators and helped clean up other places of their own messes.

Would he be willing to do that?

Well first, it would take having a dragon, and next, actually defeating Ulathoi. And that first part seemed to be arriving quickly for him.

Though the light was certainly not terrific in here, it was easy to see the color of this gorgeous pale bronze. If memory served, and since part of the shell remained on the hatchling's shoulder over one of his wings, this bronze's egg was on the smaller size. No wonder it stuck - he filled it to the brim. He was not yet confident walking, his steps were uneven, but the bronze appeared to know just where he was headed.

His still-wet muzzle butted into Sulfur's hand. I am hungry, I am your Serianth.

The mental touch of this dragon was more magical than any spell or ritual. It actually threatened to bring tears to his eyes, but Sulfur blinked them away in favor of reaching out both physically and mentally.

"You're mine, Serianth," he said as he removed the spotty piece of shell. It didn't want to leave his hand, sticking a little. He chuckled, "well I suppose worse reminders of your birth could stick around."

Serianth's eyes whirled different colors, showing his new bond that he was hungry and tired - and both hot and cold at the same time. The sands were still quite hot, but the air... so chilly. "I know you're hungry! Let's go find some food for you." Sulfur didn't need to carry the large hatchling, by that time he'd started to stretch his wings and take more confident steps anyway. Sulfur kept the shard of shell in his other hand, then tucked it away into his private pocket dimension's 'closet' for a while. He'd remember to clean it up. He'd have to, otherwise it would start stinking... Can't have that.