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There was once a prince named Rostram who wanted the best horse in all the lands. After visiting all the breeders within his lands, he was unable to find a horse impressive enough for him. Having hear of a nomad tribe rumoured to tame the wild horses of the Persian desert. The original horse Raksh was just a yearling at the time, but already showed his strength and wildness. Not even the tribe's best trainers could tame him. Rostram, admiring the power that the horse held, wanted it more than anything, and would have no other horse. He pointed the colt out to the tribe's elder, but the elder laughed and shook his head.

“Many of my men have been badly injured in their attempts to capture that horse. He cannot be caught. I am sorry, you will have to choose another.”

Rostram did not like this answer. This horse was meant to be his, and he would make it his own. He walked down to the area where Raksh stood and quietly walked up to him. Before he could get within 10 feet of him, Raksh spun around and glared at Rostram. The powerful colt reared up on his hind legs, his front hooves thrashing wildly at Rostram. The prince smiled. This was going to be a challenge. He bent his knees and braced himself. Raksh pounded at the ground with his hooves and tossed his head wildly, his red mane flying. He suddenly bolted at the prince, kicking sand into the air. Rostram had anticipated this. In the second he had before the horse reached him, he stepped quickly to the side. As the mighty colt passed him, he grabbed a handful of his mane and threw himself onto the horse's back. Raksh thrashed his body around, trying to dismount the prince. Rostram held tight to the horse's mane, refusing to let go. After only a few moments, Raksh halted his attempts to throw his rider, and fell still. The tribe elder stood in awe by the side of the village. Rostram ran his hands through the horse's mane and along his strong neck. There was definitely something different about this colt. He felt a connection to it, a connection he felt deep in his soul. Raksh was experiencing something similar and found it very strange. But he knew in his heart that he would protect Rostram for the rest of his life. Rostram turned the horse back to the village, where the elder stood, his eyes wide. He looked at Rostram with a huge grin on his face.

“My boy, that horse was indeed meant for you. None other than you was able to tame him. You make take him, but treat him well. This horse will protect you from all dangers, and stay by your side no matter what.”

He bowed and turned back into the village, while Rostram and Raksh rode off back to the palace.

The tribal elder would prove to be right. Shortly after Rostram and Raksh had bonded, Rostram left on a series of wonderful travels, and he and his horse encountered many difficulties. They battled horrible beasts and defeated many enemies. Raksh was said to be the bravest horse ever to live, and he always stayed by Rostram's side. Not because he was his master, for Raksh had no master, but because they were bonded together by some unseen force. Raksh never required any training. He protected Rostram instinctively and fought the same way.

Rostram had divine protection from the gods, and due to the bond they shared, this protection was passed onto Raksh as well, and gave him an unusually long life and incredible strength. The final enemy that Rostram and Raksh faced together was Rostram's half-brother, Shaghad, who was very jealous of Rostram's power and strength, and his incredible bond with Raksh. He desired power over anything else, and saw his brother as competition that would eventually bring him down. In the end, it was Shaghad who finally defeated the seemingly unbeatable pair. They died together, and there was much sorrow in the world after their deaths. However, Raksh's spirit was so strong, and the gods were so fond of him, that a small piece of his soul lingered on in the living world. For thousands of years, it floated aimlessly around the world, searching for a soul that would be compatible with his. And he finally found one. Centuries after his death, Raksh found a soul that he though was worthy to carry on his legend.