When I was a young boy, the maid Father had hired to watch over sister and myself would every night tell us a bedtime story to lull us to sleep. I only had an idle interest in the stories the maid told us, but sister was obsessed with one particular story, demanding our maid tell it to us again and again. On the rare occasion I objected to sister's choice, wanting to hear something new, sister would sulk until she got her way. In this manner, I became familiar with her favorite story. The Legend of Princess Anri.

A long time ago, the world had been divided into three large continents, where kings great and small ruled. These kings reigned at the pleasure of the King of kings, the True Emperor, who towered over them all from his dark castle at the southern edge of the world. Under the grinding yoke of the King of kings, the peoples of the world toiled without rest, building great cities and developing the land.

Soon, the True Emperor also demanded sacrifices in blood made to his name. The nations of the world, angered by this demand, raised great armies against the True Emperor in revolt against such tyranny. But the True Emperor was a sorcerer of immense power, and with a flick of his hand, the armies riding against his castle were swallowed by earthquakes and drowned in great torrents of fire. The people, cowed into obedience by this display of strength, duly offered up their lives to the glory of their True Emperor.

So things continued this way for years, until the servants of the True Emperor one day arrived at a now long-forgotten kingdom demanding tribute. The ruler of this small and insignificant kingdom, an equally small and insignificant man, offered up the life his daughter, the Princess Anri, to the True Emperor as proof of his fealty. The king's knights dragged the sobbing princess away and she was locked in the castle's stables, awaiting the day she would be taken away by the dread servants of the True Emperor.

For several days and nights, Princess Anri pleaded with the guards that had been posted at the stables, begging that they allow her to escape. All to no avail, for the fear of the True Emperor's vengeance laid heavily on their hearts. It was one night, when a boy of mean birth, a nameless stable hand, screwed up the courage to smuggle Princess Anri out of the castle and beyond the reach of her incensed father.

With no place that was safe for them and the king's men in pursuit, the couple fled far to the west, to the land of the eternal light, breaching the True Emperor's law that none shall cross the continents without his permission. There the Princess and the stable hand tried to settle down into a normal life.

However, they were attacked by the True Emperor's servants who had managed to track the couple down. When all seemed lost, they were saved by the timely arrival of Sir Castiel, a local knight who had taken a great admiration for the couple's simple and straightforward natures. With the rest of the True Emperor's servants closing in, the group, now expanded into a trio, fled once more.

This time they fled to the east, to the abyss of encroaching darkness, where the trio fell into the hands of Prince Enma, a ruthless local potentate. Prince Enma had earned many merits in the eyes of the True Emperor through the sacrifice of his court rivals from within his own family. With the capture of Princess Anri, Enma originally planned to have her killed to prove his loyalty to the True Emperor.

On the day Princess Anri was dragged before him on the execution square, she refused to beg for mercy and looked Enma in the eye, asking him whether he could live with himself and all the injustice that he had wrought. Prince Enma, shamed by the girl's bravery and with his conscience weighing heavily upon him for the deaths of the members of his family, broke down in tears and set her free. Now a wanted man, Enma joined the Princess's group and together they fled the abyss.

Enma brought with him secrets that he stole from the True Emperor and he told Princess Anri that far in the north lay the final bequeath of the All-Father, the creator of this world. The All-Father, when nearing his death, had willed this world to its peoples, his children, but that inheritance had been unjustly seized by the True Emperor using his dark magic. The All-Father realizing that his children needed the strength to battle the True Emperor, had left behind a final legacy for any of his children that could pass the tests.

And so the Princess and her followers went north, into the wasteland, where mountains made out of bleached bones competed in height with the ancient pillars of glass. There they found the All-Father's legacy and passed the tests that he had set. Sir Castiel, who had protected the group through thick and thin, his courage never wavering, was rewarded with an Immortal Spirit so that he could fearlessly defend the All-Father's children in the times to come. Prince Enma, who had judged others and was judged in return, was granted the Fire of Perdition, so that his judgment of the enemies of the people would never err and mercy would never stay his hand. The stable hand, humble and nameless, yet daring to love what should have been out of his reach, was granted the power of the heart, so that all would know the gentle loving embrace of the All-Father through him.

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But the All-Father's greatest gift was granted to Princess Anri, which she would in turn use to end an age and create a legend.

....

And so the legend has become flesh. Fantasy is now reality. I had never believed those tales before, but I cannot deny the evidence before my eyes. My opponent is Prince Enma. I have been judged by the Fire of Perdition.

I refuse to accept that judgment just as I refuse to accept the place my family had intended for me. Just as I refuse to go back to being nothing. Enma's judgment is nothing before the power of the stallion. I now have the power to create my own destiny, and I will use it to the full. I will complete the quest the stallion had entrusted to me.

I will remain relevant, not just to myself, but to the ultimate destiny of this world.

My extended index finger slams into Prince Enma with an explosion of force, sending him staggering backwards. The emerald flames blaze higher, casting lurid shadows about us as Enma regains his footing, looking at me in surprise. The pain of the fire upon my body is quickly growing unbearable, so I remove the burning helmet and let it clatter to the ground. With a single motion I then tear the flaming armor off my torso, casting it aside. Bare-chested, I confront Enma, the mark of the Stallion carved into my flesh.

My magic surges through the scars running along my body, suppressing the flames that surround both of us. I hear someone shouting at me, as if right in my ear, but I cannot understand what is being said. It does not matter. Defeating Enma is all that matters.

Enma stares at me dumbfounded, before charging at me again with his claws outstretched. I unleash the raw power of the stallion against him and he stops in his tracks, suppressed by the raw force from the wave of magic, fear written all over his face. Once more, I deliver the finger of the mountain straight into Enma's chest and he is sent flying backwards, vomiting blood. Liquid warmth flows through the cracks of my scars. The shouting in my ear becomes louder and more insistent, but remains just as incoherent. I try to focus on what it is trying to say, but I just cannot make sense out of it.

The ground begins to shake as I stalk towards Enma's groaning form. With a sudden burst of speed, Enma bolts low on the ground towards me, his claws aimed straight at my crotch. I am too slow to respond and Enma's hand closes on my privates before crushing them. But I feel nothing. No pain. Not even the slightest discomfort. The stallion's protection holds firm as Enma's hand makes zero headway in doing any damage to me. A look of utter despair crosses his face.

He realizes it now. The difference between us.

I clamp my hand on Enma's head and begin to focus my magic. Enma senses the danger and tries to struggle, but I hold him firm. I had only studied the basics with Father, but with the stallion's power, I can now go so much further. I can finally move beyond Father's shadow. Look at me now Father! Not so weak am I now, Sister?

"Feel not just the Finger of the Mountain, but the weight of the entire world." I intone, as if I am giving Enma his last rites. The magic boils up within me and pours into Enma's head in an unstoppable wave. Enma screams as he begins to bleed from his eyes, ears and nose. The shaking of the ground becomes even more severe, with the whole room now swaying unevenly back and forth.The indecipherable shouting in my ear is now laden with desperation.

But Enma resists. Even when he should be killed outright, he somehow manages to scrape together the strength to block my spell. My wave of magic slams against the mountain of Enma's defense. As I struggle to break through and finish the fight, I sense that Enma is somehow growing stronger, the metaphorical mountain trembling with the force of a pent-up volcano. Cracks begin to spread across the floor as the two of us wage our private war against each other.

Impossible. There is no way Enma can resist the stallion's power. There is nothing that can overcome the power of a god.

Unless ...

Another god had decided to intervene.

As enlightenment hits me, the mountain that is Enma's spirit core breaks apart, unleashing a torrent of raw, molten magic. Enma screams from the agony but remains conscious, whatever power he is channeling preventing his core from collapsing totally. I feel the monstrous power that Enma unleashed dash my spell aside and the sharp pain of magical backlash ravage my body. I draw deeper from the stallion's power and push back against this sudden opposition.

Two equally matched forces, battling against each other. Power thrums through my veins, the pressure building. The Fire of Perdition rages out of control, mercilessly consuming everything around us. And throughout it all the shaking reaches a new level, with the cracks now having spread to the roof of the building and masonry tumbling down to the ground.

It will be over soon. It must be over soon. I don't think I can hold out for much longer.

Its like a dam breaking somewhere in my body. Hot red liquid sprays out from my scars, soaking Enma to the bone, a look of horror on his face. A sense of relief overwhelms me, as if a knot of tension has suddenly been released. My body feels loose, flexible. Its amazing. Crimson builds up from the inside of my eyes, gradually blinding me. As my sight fades, I see the roof collapse and feel the floor give way beneath my feet.

Then I tumble, onward into an endless eternity.

End of Arc One