When he awoke, he found himself staring into the eyes of 3 very large, very curious camels. Frightened, he attempted to make a run for it, when he found that his legs were bound and attached to the back of a different camel’s saddle. He fought and struggled violently, until he felt a sharp pain on his neck. Looking in the direction it came from, he found a stern, young man with many clothes surrounding his body and head. The foal lay silent, shivering and occasionally letting out a whimper. Than, the man spoke, prompting the three camels into a walk, taking them all back to an unknown place.

The sand that the foal was being dragged through rubbed into his sensitive skin, causing him a great deal of discomfort. He found himself violently struggling against the ropes again. Only this time, his bonds had ripped into his skin causing him to bleed. He stopped and whinnied a long, mournful sound, which was lost in the huge expanse of the land in which they were traversing.

Night had fallen again, causing an uncomfortable drop in temperature. The man went back to the foal, and freed him from his bonds, and then treated his wounds. He sang to the foal in a soft, musical voice which soothed him, and the camels, and every other living thing within hearing distance. The foal stood up, stretching his legs, then went over to investigate the camels, which shooed him away quickly. He than looked skyward, seeing for the first time the many bright stars, and grief clutched his small fluttering heart. For he had no idea where he was, or where he was to go, or what was to become of him. He slept fitfully that night.

He awoke to find himself on a smooth bed of cloths, which was being pulled by the camels. The foal wanted to walk with them, but he could not communicate with the strange creature who was to decide his fate. Many times, the man called him a certain word, whose importance was lost on the small, handsome colt. The only thing he knew, was that the man seemed to almost adore him, in an endless, loving way, which made the foal curious as to what the man had in store for him. He awoke to find himself on a smooth bed of cloths, which was being pulled by the camels. The foal wanted to walk with them, but he could not communicate with the strange creature who was to decide his fate. Many times, the man called him a certain word, whose importance was lost on the small, handsome colt. The only thing he knew, was that the man seemed to almost adore him, in an endless, loving way, which made the foal curious as to what the man had in store for him

When they had finally arrived at the village, the man pulled a bridle onto the foals untouched face, which of course the colt rejected strongly too. However, the man was skilled and fast in his fastening, and the bridle was attached as easily as it would have been to a tamed horse. He cut free the foal from his ropes, leading him on a rope into the village. “Quiet, Akhal-Teke”, the young man said, “it won’t be much longer until we get there. Ravni knows the way.” Akhal-Teke objected to being led on a rope, but he was eventually forced to prance along willingly, due to the fact that resisting Ravni resulted in smarting pain from his whip.

Ravni confidently strode into a large building, covered with gold and strange statues, and many meditating peoples. Akhal-Teke began to make a raucous, which Ravni quickly smoothed with his melodious voice. Eventually, the only noise made was the clacking of Akhal’s heels on the golden floor.

As they reached the end of the corridor, two large doors stood before them. Ravni opened them with a bit of a struggle, but they eventually came into an enormous room, even more glorious then the hallway they had just walked through. Snorting, Akhal-Teke looked around, even he was impressed. As they walked to the front of the room, a large man sat in an even larger throne, glaring down at the two of them. The stare was unsettling, but Ravni seemed unaffected, and Akhal-Teke depended on his confidence to settle his nerves. The man in the throne spoke in a large booming voice. “Prince Ravni, I see you have brought me a golden horse. However, he is still so young.” Ravni all of a sudden seemed to grow angry and then in a strained voice he said, “A deal is a deal, I found you the golden horse, now I get my throne and people back. Going back on your word is rewarded with the death penalty here, don’t think you are exempt!” The large man smiled, showing his lack of teeth, than said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. “I need a golden horse to ride, I said. You are to train him, than bring him back when he is fit to ride. I suggest you get to work.” Ravni grew red and trembled, but said nothing, and slowly turned and walked back out of the room. Akhal grew increasingly aware of Ravni’s anger, and soon also became angry, without even knowing why.

Ravni was mumbling all the way to a large courtyard, which was filled with hundreds of stables. Akhal-Teke saw many horses and was instantly disturbed. Every last horse there was a perfect shade of gold, Akhal was no longer anything special. His coat was only as beautiful as those around him, if not less. One row of the stables though, had multi-colored horses, which was the result of breeding gone wrong. They were all up to be sold to a slaughter-house, for they were not the right color.

Ravni approached an empty stable, pushing Akhal into it, who surprisingly didn’t object. Ravni than dove into a deep story, which soothed Akhal’s inner fears. The story told of a man who once had 100 golden horses, and he set them all to a race of endurance. The winner became the largest, most powerful horse that ever lived, and brought a whole life of good fortune to the man who rode the winning horse and also to the man who owned all 100 horses. “Akhal-Teke”, Ravni said,” you are the 100th horse. You are also to race the same race your ancestors did so long ago. I am your rider, and I would like to win. For winning ensures the safety of my stolen throne, ensures that it will never happen again. So, for my sake, grow large and strong and beautiful, so that you may bestow your luck upon me.” With that Ravni kissed Akhal on the tip of his nose, and then turned away, disappearing into the distance towards his house far away.

Akhal didn’t understand a word the man said, he only felt a sense of longing as his story drew to a close, which surprised him. He did not expect to miss this man so much. Akhal paced around his stall, still so young and fragile compared to the other, larger horses. His legs wobbled and eventually his fatigue dropped him to the ground and with a large sigh, he fell into a deep sleep.

Akhal didn’t understand a word the man said, he only felt a sense of longing as his story drew to a close, which surprised him. He did not expect to miss this man so much. Akhal paced around his stall, still so young and fragile compared to the other, larger horses. His legs wobbled and eventually his fatigue dropped him to the ground and with a large sigh, he fell into a deep sleep.

The next few months were uneventful compared to his first week of life, which carried a whole life’s worth of sorrows. Everyday was the same. Ravni would come to his stall in the morning, bottle-feed him, and walk him around the large courtyard. Akhal saw many other foals his size and age, which were also following much the same routine. However, Akhal was special, for he was the only foal who got a story told to him by Ravni every night. The story was always the same, in fact, Akhal had it memorized and always listened intently to the sound of Ravni’s deep, rich voice.

When Akhal-Teke was one year old, Ravni took him out to a large square, to be galloped around the edges for exercise. Another change in the routine was that Ravni would let Akhal out into the pastures, to frolic with the other yearlings. Akhal always enjoyed himself these days, and he hardly noticed when Ravni stopped coming to his stable at night to tell him the story of the 100 golden horses.

A year later, it was time for Akhal to be broken to a saddle. Ravni began this process by taking him out into the middle of the courtyard and tying him to a post. Ravni easily slid a blanket onto Akhal’s back, after all Akhal always slept with one on. Then the bridle was slipped onto his dished face, again, no big deal to the already well-trained colt. Then the lightweight saddle was slipped onto his back, which frightened Akhal-Teke and he trembled, but did not kick for he listened for the Ravni’s melodious, soothing voice. Ravni took Akhal to a secluded, gated off area, and trotted him around with the saddle on Akhal’s back. Ravni sang a long, mournful song, which described his people’s shortcomings and how he had failed at being a leader, and how winning was the only way to ensure his future. Akhal listened, but couldn’t understand, however the sound of Ravni’s voice settled his fears all the same. Ravni then stopped Akhal, and slowly slid onto the horses back. Akhal could no longer take the stress, he ripped across the yard, bucking and prancing, turning and nipping, and finally dropping to his knees, grunting with dissatisfaction. Slowly, Ravni slid off of Akhal’s back and led him back to his stable. This routine was to be followed for the next 5 weeks.

Akhal learned faster than his stable-mates, which pleased Ravni immensely, for a fast-learning horse was bound to win such a high-stake race. Now that Akhal was accustomed to the saddle, he took the horse out, deep into the desert, farther than any sane man dare to travel. They walked for 5 days, halfway exhausting their water supply. Ravni knew he was taking a big risk, but he knew that if Akhal could not find his way back to the village within 3 days, than it was best for them both to die anyway. That night they rested, and early the next morning they set off back toward the village.

Not even Ravni knew the way back, he had been aimlessly traveling, and this was a grand test for Akhal-Teke. “Now Akhal, take me back to the village, you are the only one who knows the way back. Lead with your senses, and take us home.” Akhal listened, but again, didn’t understand. Ravni spurred him off in the opposite direction from which they came, and Akhal decided to go back home, for it seemed that was the most sensible option.

Akhal was galloping in the right direction, gallantly moving in such a beautiful fashion, the sun gasped in jealousy from his coat’s shine. Moreover, Akhal-Teke was confident. The smell of the village was so strong in his nostrils, there was no way he could be wrong. Ravni, on the other hand, was worried. His dark skin was plastered with sand, and his face and hands were blistering from the hot sun. This was the 3rd day, and if Akhal didn’t make it back by tonight, then he would have to go through another year of training before he was prepared for the great endurance race.

As the sun began to set, the Akhal had already been trotting for hours, exhausted from his long journey, but he knew it would be over in no less than 3 hours. His confidence and exuberant hot-bloodedness spurred him on, Akhal-Teke refused to rest. For Ravni, he could just barely see the village, but he knew he had to make it before the sun was completely out of sight. However, he could not bring himself to spur Akhal, for fear of hurting him. Ravni pondered this for a few precious moments before finally kicking Akhal-Teke into action.

What a glorious sight the golden horse was, galloping at top speed, glinting in his god-like way, snorting with ferociousness so unknown to the species, that it made Ravni laugh. The last golden rays of sun were becoming shorter and long shadows were being cast across the large desert. Akhal began frothing and foaming from his mouth and his shoulders were damp with sweat. He ached everywhere, stumbling constantly whereas usually he would’ve been as sure-footed as a mountain goat. Akhal stumbled into the village just as the sun got its last look at the world. Ravni cheered, and Akhal snorted, much less excitedly. After all, he was the one who had done all the work.

As Akhal rested in his stall the following day, Ravni commenced bragging immediately. “Akhal-Teke and I were lost in the desert”, he boasted to his stable hand, “and he found his way out in only 3 days, saving both of our lives. He is a heavenly horse, snorting smoke, and sweating blood. Even the sun envies such a bright, high-stepping creature.” On Ravni went like this, until he had no one else left to brag too. Word of his venture soon spread to the king, and it was to be made known that now that all horses had passed this test of endurance, the great race could soon begin.

Everyone went into a panic. Every horse was worked so hard, that they became unhealthy, lackluster creatures. All except for a few, who were predicted to be the top leaders of the race. Akhal-Teke was among them, and he knew it. For all the very many things horses know, perhaps knowing that they’re better than a great many of horses, is their favorite knowledge to posses. For Akhal pranced through the courtyards. Neighing to his stable mates as if to say “I am Akhal-Teke, fear me. For the victory shall be mine.” Ravni laughed as he did this, a musical sound, which made a confidence grow inside Akhal.

In the last few days before the race, Ravni began coming to Akhal-Teke at nights, to tell him endurance strategies. “Now bright one,” Ravni began, “I assume you know the great dangers of the desert. Sand storms, poisonous snakes, and wild foxes, which will stop at nothing to kill us both. However, if you run fast and fearlessly, we will be out of the valley of death before you know it.” A long pause filled the space. The only noises were that of Akhal’s breathing, and the night owl’s hooting. Ravni stroked Akhal’s large, proud head, staring deep into his chocolate eyes. Akhal held the gaze for a few moments, before breaking the connection, and staring out into the distance. “You know,” Ravni said, “200 miles is not as long as you might think it is. If we take it 60 miles a day like we have been the past few months, we will be done in no less than 4 days. No horse has run the endurance race that fast before, no one thought any other horse would get the chance too. You could be that stallion though Akhal-Teke. Not only are you brave, but you are strong. Not only are you smart, but you are fast. I am not in this race to lose. I am here to win, Akhal. I believe in you, but I need you to trust me. It’s a team effort, and there are many horses that could beat us, but we will not go down without a fight!” Akhal sensed the urgency in his tone, the confidence in his words, and reared in his stall, whinnying a battle cry. His coat shone, and his eyes blazed, and the steam coming out of his nostrils all combined to make a fearsome scene. Ravni stood up from the bale of straw on which he was sitting, and cried out with a ferocity unmatched by any other man’s “Akhal-Teke,” he shouted, “you have no match on this earth, you wild thing!”, and with that he laughed, a deep-throated, braying sound, which Akhal could not have found more appealing.

The day before the race, Akhal paced his stall nervously. A sense of anxiousness tinged the air so strongly it was almost palpable, causing Akhal to paw the ground and snort occasionally. He listened intently with his pointed ears at the sounds to which Ravni were making. Preparing for a 200 mile journey was no easy task, and Ravni told Akhal so, even though he was completely aware the horse couldn’t understand him. Many stressful hours passed like this, before finally Ravni was able to ride Akhal through the sands around the temple’s courtyard. A shadow lurked over the sun, causing Akhal-Teke to look like an ordinary horse, rather than a shiny, storybook color. A tinge of electricity coursed through the air, catching on the nostrils of all the horses, making them all dance in beautiful sidesteps, even though the reason for them were quite frightening. Akhal became increasingly worried, and again had to draw off of Ravni’s confidence to settle his horse fears. All the riders soon became aware of the horses’ odd moods and then they understood. The dark cloud in front of the sun was not one in the sky, but one on the ground. Its contents included that of sand and warm air currents, pushing directly towards the stables, traveling over the ground faster than even a cheetah was capable of. Ravni raced back to the courtyard on Akhal’s back. Jumping the courtyard gate, he opened the stall, pushing Akhal into it. Ravni ducked for cover in a corner under a gunny sack, while Akhal trembled in a corner, waiting for the fearful monster to pass.

The storm seemed endless, battering the sides of the buildings relentlessly. The sounds used to make Akhal nervous, but he had grown accustomed to them, and now all he could focus on was his ever growing thirst. Ravni’s throat was so dry; he made no attempt to sing to Akhal, which saddened them both. As they both hoped for the storm to end, all they could do was look at each other and let their worries engulf them.

Soon the winds seemed to be slowing down so, tentatively, Ravni opened the top part of the stable door. Large mounds of sand were visible; however the storm was relatively benign, and destroyed only a few miniscule things. Their society had learned long ago how to deal with such disasters, and as a result, this was only a slight hindrance to the great endurance race. No one could even see the sun; the sand in the air was still so thick. Breathing was difficult, and everyone was racing to find a water supply. The horses paced anxiously in their stalls, waiting for the sand to settle so they could see. One horse tried to attack his owner his nerves were so tight. Luckily the rider easily sidestepped the foreseeable disaster, and comforted his horse quickly.

The storm had set the race back a few days, and had everyone anxious to get going. New preparations were being made, and Ravni was surprisingly calm. Akhal mimicked his fearless gestures, and he soon too was just as calm. A loud bugling sound echoed through the courtyard, bouncing off of every surface, entering into everyone’s ears. It was time to begin.

The line up itself took a great deal of time. The sun slowly peeked its hideous face over the distant horizon, preparing to drop horses to their knees due to heat exhaustion. Ravni and Akhal both were quite displeased with slowness of things, the scene seemed to almost appear in slow-motion. Eventually, the rules and regulations were announced, so that all could hear and clearly understand. Ravni began trembling out of excitement, and Akhal-Teke began to dance in one place, prancing his long, glimmery legs, pushing his hooves deep into the sand. An awful, long silence filled the air, all grew quiet. Even the horses stopped their nervous antics, pointing their ears directly ahead of them. A small boy appeared in front of them, with a large, red flag. Ravni knew what his fate was, he was a sacrifice to the creator, if he was trampled and killed successfully, than the outcome of the race would be good. Ravni swallowed, trying not to think about it. Instead he focused on how to control Akhal through the deep, fine sand that now covered the ground. He rubbed his head, and stared attentively at the little boy waiting for the flag to wave.

Eventually, what everyone was waiting for happened. The boy slowly rose his flag above his head, a sharp whinny was heard from somewhere down the long, shimmering line. As the boy shouted “Prepare!” everyone was already listening. Then he waved his flag, which was accompanied by a bugle noise, covering the atmosphere, reaching every living thing. Akhal sprung forward, than stopped. As did all of the horses. For they realized, the sand was so deep it came up past their small, deceivingly strong, ankles. After momentary confusion, Ravni spurred Akhal on, and the horse bounded accordingly, running as quickly as he could. A cloud of dust followed the galloping horses, covering everything within 10 feet of each one with dust and sand particles. Many horses had fallen to their knees, and flung their riders, causing early defeats. Ravni pushed Akhal-Teke on, almost mercilessly. Akhal tried and tried, but it took them hours to make it across the small land that had deep sand. When Akhal reached firmer sand, he was already shaking in exhaustion, sweating, causing his coat to gleam. Ravni would have admired him, were it not for the unfortunate start they had gotten off too. Akhal however, mustered all of his energy and galloped as fast and long as he could, passing horses when he could, staying abreast with them when he couldn’t. Ravni wanted to push him to the front of the line, he was not going to flounder behind the whole way, but Akhal could only run for so long before it was foolish to make him even walk. At a late hour in the night, when Ravni saw what he believed to be the leading horses stop, he drew Akhal to a halt who immediately began panting, in taking sharp breaths, trembling from the exertion. Ravni reluctantly made camp, unhappy with their first day’s progress.

By some trick of fortune, Akhal-Teke had traversed 63 miles in the first day, which was farther than Ravni had believed they had made it. Reenergized with the realization of the progress they made, Akhal and Ravni set off, this time at a much faster pace, hoping to catch up with the leaders. But this was a dangerous game they were playing, and not all had accepted the rules and regulations set out by the Chief Priests of the temples, given them on the beginning day of the great endurance race.

Rule 1 stated: “NO weapons or violence of any sort shall be tolerated, and if caught using such violence, the rider and horse responsible will be punished with disqualification and 3 months in the cellar.” Ravni knew the danger of the cellar all too well, and did not wish to visit the damp, stinking place again. He also knew that many of the other riders were as he was, experienced in cellar life, so he did not expect that any would break the rules that were punishable with more than 2 months in the cellar. Yet this race was unpredictable, which is why when an arrow came flying and hit Akhal-Teke in the shoulder, Ravni howled with rage as Akhal-Teke struggled to stay on his feet. What the rider who shot Akhal didn’t know, was that Akhal was made of sterner stuff than the other horses. He would not go down so easily. Quickly, the horse stumbled to the left, surging with all he had to catch up to his attacker. It was all Ravni could do to keep from dropping his mouth open with shock. As Akhal came up next to the other golden horse, he bit the riders neck causing him to fall, breaking most every bone in the small, fragile rider’s body.

Ravni pulled Akhal to a halt. They had some time, for he saw the 2 leaders were taking a real quick break. Ravni removed the arrow from Akhal, which Akhal didn’t react to with more than a snort. Ravni was amazed at the horse’s ferocity, he couldn’t have hoped for a better steed. After Akhal-Teke was fixed up, he jogged over to where the other rider fell. Examining the small figure he realized that the man was actually a woman, and it was too late to save her. Behind him, he heard Akhal snorting, impatient to get going. Ravni had no choice but to leave the small woman behind, racing away on his horse.

The next day was fairly uneventful. A small group of dingoes attempted to cross Akhal’s path, but they were broken under Akhal-Teke’s quick, light feet before either he or Ravni knew what had happened. By that night they were camping only 3 miles from the leaders, which Ravni knew he would have to move closer while they were least expecting it. An early start to the day wouldn’t be soon enough, so Ravni devised a plan to creep up on them, and gain another mile before the sun rose.

Akhal-Teke was less than enthused when Ravni jumped onto his back, encouraging him on. He walked slow, limping as if every foot ached, and the sand was a bed of nails. Akhal shied from every shadow and noise, sniffing the air nervously when a breeze happened to drift through his nostrils. A few times a shiver coursed through his golden body, causing Ravni to curse at the horse’s stubbornness. By the time the sun rose, Akhal was only barely a little bit past the leaders.

When Ravni and Akhal-Teke saw the sun rise, a new energy filled them. Akhal’s senses tingled, and all the pain that racked his nerves left him. Ravni’s tiredness left his mind, and for a moment they both tensed. At the sound of the horses and riders stirring behind them, Akhal-Teke was off like a shot. He bound across the sand like a deer across a meadow, picking the precise perfect step that would propel him forward the fastest. Fatigue seemed to have no affect on the pair, as they traveled across the desert. The sweat on Akhal’s hide made him seem as if though every time he moved a muscle, a wave from a golden pool rippled across the canvas that was the desert. Ravni was such a dull sight, compared to his golden steed. In his sand covered cloths, that absorbed and dullened light. Akhal-Teke had been cantering for hours, and he finally was brought to his front knees from the exertion. Ravni slipped off sitting in the warm sand, sifting it through his fingers, letting Akhal gain his breath. Akhal’s mouth started to foam, and he began hacking, spewing the substance everywhere. His nostrils flared so large, Ravni could see the red inside of them. They sat for an hour or so, waiting for the wave of nauseating exhaustion to pass, but it never did. Soon they heard the sound of pounding hooves and shouts coming ever closer. Akhal-Teke managed to get up onto his feet, but only held his position for a moment before crumbling back to his knees.

Ravni lay on his back, allowing the trembling of the ground to reverberate through his skull. Akhal was moaning not far from him, how he wanted to win! Yet his exhaustion kept him pinned on the ground. They had 25 miles left, yet it was unlikely either of them would make it now. Akhal suddenly started violently snorting, then he screamed an awful blood-curdling shriek, and then all was silent. Startled, Ravni ran over to Akhal-Teke, suddenly concerned. Yet, Akhal was silent, and Ravni fell to weeping over his beloved golden one’s body.

Akhal’s dreams were filled with pain and remembering of past events. His body wouldn’t move, even though his heart ran faster than that of a leopard. His mind even faster than that, filled with the thoughts of all the things he had willingly sacrificed to endure the desert. His freedom, his well-being, and his hope of horse companionship. He thought back to the fateful day of when his mother had been killed by a snake. It killed her quickly, yet painfully. Suddenly, Akhal-Teke had such a great moment of realization, that his whole body shuddered with it, and his eyes snapped open taking in the desert floor.

Ravni had already walked a little ways, tears streaking his dirt-streaked face, when he heard a snort, and a wild whinny fill the air. He turned around to see Akhal staggering toward him, so valiantly trying to stay on his hooves. After Ravni had overcome the initial shock, he raced to the horse, hugging him around his muscular neck. “Oh Akhal”, Ravni sobbed affectionately, “you sweat blood, you are a heavenly horse. I am glad you are mine.” The rest of his words were muffled by Akhal’s heavily breathing neck. Ravni’s heart dropped as he saw the glimmer of the leaders’ horses shine, a few miles away. Akhal dropped his mighty head, snuffing the ground. Suddenly, a panic overtook them both, overriding the exhaustion they had felt. Akhal-Teke pawed the ground impatient to get going. Again, they were off. This time, not to stop until they saw the finish.

Akhal-Teke didn’t know why he was racing toward the other golden hides in the distance, trying to beat them, perhaps to appease Ravni, or to make himself greater than all the other gold-skinned horses in the courtyard, whatever the reason Akhal wasn’t capable of giving up, until the last shudder of life left his lungs, and escaped into the universe. Ravni’s legs trembled as he saw them gain speed on the leaders, they were in the last 10 miles now, and it was a race of endurance truly now than it was before. His thoughts raced, he could only hope Akhal was as quick and ready as his ever-changing mind.

Akhal-Teke had lost the capability to breathe, or to think, or to run. He had entered the ultimate survival mode. The foam now covered his whole chest, shoulders, and neck and his feet stumbled clumsily in the fine sand. Again the sand was up to his ankles, threatening to force the life out of him if he dare stumble. Ravni’s guilt racked his body, the shudder of Akhal’s body made his heart ache, yet he knew it would be crueler to stop him now, for he would only tumble, and he would not be fortunate enough to live through it. Ravni didn’t want to focus on these thoughts, but his mind wandered back to them often enough.

The 3 horses were now running abreast to one another; the roar of the cheering village could be heard. The 3 riders looked straight ahead, intensely looking at the finish, only hoping they would be the ones to win. They were strides away, then disaster. One of the horses fell crashing into the other 2 on either side of him, flinging his rider off and breaking his neck. The horse’s crushing weight came down on Akhal-Teke’s legs, causing him to stumble. Ravni gasped, he could not bear to think of what would happen if Akhal were to go down. He should’ve known better. Akhal leaped over the disaster, putting them in the lead. Now the only challenge would be to finish strong.

Shaking, Akhal stomped the ground, putting one foot after the other as fast as he could. His body trembled and Ravni’s small weight was literally killing him. The color of the sweat he produced made him a terrifying creature. The sun gleamed and reflected off of his coat, causing a kaleidoscope of gold and red colors to dance across the sand. Blood dropped from his mouth, creating stains on his coat. From the top of the rump to his withers, his body excreted blood that was the only fluid left to cool his outer coat. As he crossed the finish line, he collapsed, but Ravni stayed on, and gently slid off of his back. “Thank you, Akhal”, Ravni said, “You have won me back my kingdom.” With that Ravni and the crowd left, leaving Akhal-Teke to lie in the yellow sand. The victory had filled Ravni’s heart with pride, causing him to leave his horse in the sand to die without a second thought.

Again Ravni underestimated Akhal-Teke’s strength. As quick as a shot, Akhal jumped from the ground, and attacked Ravni, killing him instantly. After all, heavenly horses can easily sense a traitor when they sense one. With that, he turned and bolted into the distance, his blood-stained hide glinting in the expanse. For a moment silence erupted. Then a smooth babble of mourning creeped out of the mouths of all the spectators, whispering words such as “Akhal-Teke is a dangerous kind of horse”. Others sang his praise chanting “The horse that sweats heavenly blood has won the challenge, we have been blessed!!”

Many generations of gold horses were named Akhal-Teke, to honor the bravest horse that had ever lived. Eventually a logical reasoning behind the name formed and was attached to all offspring of these desert golden horses.