Hello, friends. I am brand-new to this forum, but have a large amount of experience in forums and forum etiquette. But this is not the place, nor is it the time. This is the place and time for me to introduce a story I wrote for the birthday of a good friend of mine last year. It is the only story I have actually finished so far, despite numerous beginnings, and these too I will post if this story gets a good response. Now, without further ado, I present to you The One with No Name.

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The one with no name.

He was lost in a sea of darkness; the only thing to defend himself with was a small torch in his left hand. Thrusting it about him to chase away the shadows, they still came, deep within it creatures lurked, snickering, laughing at him. Something loomed in front of him; a pair of doors! He flung them open with his free hand, and ran forward, into the inviting light within. Just as he reached the light, he was dragged backwards by a shadowy claw, slammed into a wall and chains thrust onto his arms and legs. A hood was thrown over his head, allowing only a thin view of the bright room before him. A creature walked in, a black shadow in the light; it asked him questions, interrogating him in a language he did not know. After being assaulted with words for several minutes, he began to pull against the chains, breaking them off from the wall and one clipped his hood, throwing it off. He saw an enormous man before him, the outline flickering. He reached for the man’s throat, and his eyes snapped open into a muggy morning. His body was drenched in sweat, and the pillows that his head had rested upon were on the floor.

Slowly, he placed his shaking legs on the floor and turned, placing his head between his hands and shivering slightly in the cool breeze coming from his window into his muggy room. It was the same dream he had been having for weeks now, preventing him from sleeping soundly. He silently stood up, grabbed his giant sword, the Zanbato, and walked out the door, his Zanbato resting heavily on his shoulder and trailing a few feet above and behind his head.

He walked across the mountain range that separated his home from the world into the town of Gudgam. Quickly, he found where he was going and walked into the bounty shop, headed straight for the corner counter.

“Give me your entire list, and it will be finished in a single week,” He said, his voice gravelly and strained from an accident many years ago, which had sliced his vocal chords. “I shall collect my fee afterwards.”

“Yes, Mr...?” The small man behind the counter faltered when he turned around at the sight of him. “Are you new to this town? I don’t know you, stranger. What is your name?”

“I... I do not remember my own name. You may call me Stranger until I think of a name more suited for myself.” He scratched the back of his head submissively. “I am in need of some Airos, however, so give me the list. All of it.”

“O-o-okay,” The small man stammered, obviously nervous of Stranger. He turned around and opened the cabinet behind him, drawing out a long piece of paper. “Although I doubt you can finish this all in one week, I will give it to you. Good Luck!”

Stranger nodded his thanks, and took the list. The small man cringed when Stranger’s hand brushed his own, icy cold against his skin. He stared incredulously at Stranger’s back as he walked out the door, hefting the huge Zanbato in a single hand.

As Stranger walked out of the building, several men slammed into him. “Watch where you’re going, shorty!” One of them called. “Or else we might have to slice you up a bit.”

Stranger merely looked back, and as they saw his glowing, black-rimmed gaze, they cringed and ran inside. A few minutes later, they came back out, a violet look on their faces. “You took the entire list,” Their leader, a tall man with a mace that blazed at the end, shouted in Stranger’s face. “Give us the list, or you will die.” The two men, flanking their leader, grinned. One was a stout man with broad shoulders drew his battleaxe, and the other one, a slight man, drew two long swords, rocking on the balls of his feet in a ready stance.

“I’m not giving you any list,” Stranger replied, baring his teeth in a feral grin, malice clearly showing on his face. “And if you attack me, it shall be you who loses their life, not me.” The three men’s eyes narrowed, and they rushed him. “Sorry, you got me on a bad day.” Stranger said, his feral grin becoming more pronounced. He put his sword out horizontally, erratically moving it up and down, spinning in place. As the men and their weapons came in range of his sword, the weapons smashed into pieces and the sword sliced through their skulls, stopping them several feet from his body. He calmly wiped his blade on one of the man’s shirt, cleaning off the blood.

He then went through their bags, searching for anything of value. However, all he found where three thlots, the smallest amount of currency to be found. He picked up the swords, the battleaxe, and the mace and took them to the blacksmith, selling them for a total of fifty thlugs, one of which is equal to twenty thlots. As he walked out, he pulled out the list, looked at the first name, and promptly turned around and went back into the blacksmith. As he went inside, he began throwing things around, knocking over tables.

“You have been kind to me, at a time when my bloodlust has been satiated. You are a lucky man,” Stranger said, working his way to the blacksmith. “There is a bounty out for your head. Give me some item dear to you and leave this town for good. I will claim I killed you, use the item as proof, and you shall live with any family you may have.”

The blacksmith, one used to asking about the quality and haggling for the price of steel, was at a loss for words. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, so he closed it, knowing fully that he looked foolish. In the back of the smithy, there was a glass case, and within it was a beautifully made dagger, with seven large jewels set inside of it. The smith motioned to it, and Stranger took it. “I shall return this to you, if I can. Go to the town of Llinsbure, across the mountain range. They need a good blacksmith, and they are decent people.” Stranger left the smithy, and went to the Durgess tavern.

As he walked down the street, he stopped and stood at a street corner. He looked around, searching in vain for the source of whispering reaching his ears, but it continued without a source. He shook his head, and continued to the tavern, walking in and shouting for Dyrn Seeht. A short man walked to him from the bar, and found his head rolling on the ground. He took a necklace from the man’s corpse, went outside, burned it and threw the ashes into the river. He then went back to the bounty office.

“Two out of ten are dead. Here are the items that they had at them at the moment of death,” Stranger said, watching the man behind the counter squeak. “I have burned their bodies and thrown the ashes into the river to dispose of any evidence that an enemy could use against me, should anything go wrong with the bounties.” He collected his pay, ten thlugs, and went back to his secluded home to sleep.

I shall show you something. Whether it is your future or not shall be up to you.

His hand met the man’s neck, and the man vanished, and Stranger was standing on a hill outside of a town. He looked behind him and saw it was the town where he used to live. Before him, stretched out for miles, was an army of people wielding pitchforks and torches, farm equipment was readily available for some sinister purpose.

“This town is MINE. Its people are MINE. If you march any closer, you had best pray for mercy, for once this battle truly begins; I will NEVER stop killing you. Not even in death.” The words crashed down the valley, amplified by some unknown, unseen power. He didn’t know where the words came from, only that he said them, and that they felt RIGHT.

From the door came a rapping sound, awakening him from his strange dream. Stranger, bemused from sleep, slowly walked to the door and opened it with a jerk, revealing a girl around thirteen years of age, fairly close to his own fifteen. She stood there for a moment, a cloth bag at her side, and when he didn’t shut the door in her face, she walked in, placing her bag next to the doorway and giving him a hug.

“Who do you think you are,” Stranger said, his voice taking on an indecipherable tone. “Coming into my home, uninvited, and hugging me as if you have known me for years?”

“My name is Lily,” The girl said, tears leaking slowly from her eyes and soaking the nape of Stranger’s neck, and his shirt. “And I do not need to know you to know that you are my sensei, and that you are saving me from not having a home, from not having someone to talk to.”

Stranger’s golden eyes softened, and a ghost of a smile hovered around his mouth. “I do not know my name,” He said softly. “But you may call me Stranger for now. You may stay in my home provided that you do not get in my way. Understood?”

“I understand Sensei!” Lily cried, her voice suddenly bright. Her face fell as she saw Stranger looking at her with a sour look on his face. “What is it, sensei?”

“You’re going to make me work,” Stranger replied, staring at her. “I am going to have to get you a shadow guardian so that you don’t get injured on my watch.” Shadow guardians existed naturally only in the seventh dimension. In order to get there, the traveler had to know the ten words of power. Having once needed to steal to survive, he had stolen on magi’s book of power, containing many minor spells and the ten words to travel into any of the ten dimensions. “Tonight, you will stay awake and keep watch as my spirit travels into the world of shadows.”

That night, he set up a cocoon of blankets to keep his body warm. Taking the book of spells, he lay down and opened it, reading aloud.

“In order to reach the other nine dimensions, they must know the correct word of power.” Blah, blah, blah, Stranger thought. That’s the one problem with these books; they have so many useless words. “To the seventh dimension. Shirak”

His spirit filled fled from his body with the power of the word, and his mind lifted into the air. Before him was an odd sort of window, one he could only see out of the corner of his eyes. His mind gathered his spirit together, and they both went through the window, but the strain caused his mind to scream in pain and shut down completely.

When he awoke, the first thing he noticed was a sharp edge digging into his back. It was the spell book, he realized with relief, but when he pulled it out, it had changed. Instead of a flaming cover pronouncing it as a book of Magic, it was now a glittering gold book of Enlightenment.

It was his first time traveling through the dimensions; at least that he could remember. He peered into the stretch of darkness and opened the book of Enlightenment, saying “I need light.” One of the properties, he knew from reading the book of Magic, of a Book of Enlightenment was that it gives you only what you ask for; and even then only if you actually needed to know it. Sure enough, the page began to ink itself, writing the words “For light – Remmihs.”

After he spoke the word, he staggered back, the spells draining much of his energy. He walked forward, seeing temple after temple, each with its own guardian before the gates. He knew from stories told around campfires that the temples would hold shadow guardians in order of power, starting with a mouse to an all-mighty dragon. The catch was that you had to fight, and defeat, a shadow guardian in order to make it bend to your will, or to persuade them willingly to join you. As he kept walking, the amount shadow guardians before the temples began to increase, showing different forms the guardians could take. He sent the light into the dark before him, and ran after it to the final temple. Before the enormous gates sat, stood, or lay a shadow guardian of every form imaginable, from a simple field mouse to a creature with its insides showing through transparent skin. In the middle of all of these hovered a huge dragon, shadowed flames pouring from its mouth, scorching the earth before it.

He walked to the gates, and they swung open at his touch. Inside, the darkness moved, writhing and twisting before him. This was the last choice he had to make; take a weaker shadow in the front, or brave the terrors to reach the darkest, most powerful shadows in the back of the large temple. He went to the edge, careful not to touch any shadow guardians, for that would show that he wanted to either speak with or fight that shadow guardian. In the back was a pair of thrones, the arm rests gilded with intricate designs of lands and planets he did not know about. Upon them sat two dragons, and light just seemed to fall into their eternal blackness.

He walked up to the one on the left, bowed, and grabbed its tail. A deep voice instantly boomed from its maw, deep and angry. “You have chosen me? Are you a fool who thinks he can fight me, or are you a jester thinking he can talk me into joining him?”

Stranger looked up at him. “I am neither. I am one who has come to ask your aid in only one way; through riddles. If I lose, I will fight you. If I win, you will join me. Each riddle has a period of ten clicks to answer.”

“Very well,” The king replied. “Ask your riddles, and prepare to fight.”

Stranger grinned, and opened his mouth to speak. “But my riddle goes first, of course,” The dragon said, a rumble of amusement echoing through the hall. “I am, after all, the accused party, if you will.” When Stranger nodded his acceptance, the dragon thought for a moment. “You throw away my outside, then cook my inside. Then, you eat my outside and throw away my inside. What am I?”

“You are an ear of corn. What breaks mountains, kills every mortal, rusts metal, and boils away water?”

“Time. I have five apples. I swallow two and give the rest to you. How many apples do I have left?”

“You have the two laying whole in your stomach. What herb cures all ailments?”

“By the raven’s cry, and by this rhyme, the answer is surely thyme. Everyone needs me, everyone gives me away, and everyone asks for more of me. However, almost nobody uses me. What am I?”

“Advice. A blacksmith and a boy were fishing. The boy is the blacksmith’s son, but the blacksmith is not the boy’s father. Who is the blacksmith?”

“The blacksmith is the boy’s mother. A man and his dog went down the street. The man rode, yet walked. What was his dog’s name?”

Stranger thought for a minute. “The dog’s name was yet. How do you drop an egg on the ground without cracking it?”

“Just drop it. The ground won’t crack. What goes on the house, around the house, in the house, but never touches the house?”

“Light. Sea suckled me, waves sounded over me; rollers covered me as I rested on my bed. I have no feet and often open my mouth to the flood. Now some man will consume me, who cares nothing for my clothing. What am I?”

“You are an Oyster. If you eat it, it will kill you. It came before time. It is more evil than the fallen angels, more powerful than the deities. Poor have it and wealthy need it. What is it?”

“Hope. When there is fire in me then I am still cold; When I own your true love’s face then you will not see me; To all things I give no more than I am given; In time I may have all things and yet I may keep nothing.

“The answer is a mirror, but you got my riddle wrong. The answer was nothing. Are you still willing to fight me?

“Aye,” Stranger replied, drawing his Zanbato. “I must fight you and bring you back with me to guard a girl when I cannot.”

“Very well,” The dragon said, lifting itself off its throne. “The time has come, not for a battle of wits, but of strength.”

The dragon opened its jaw, and black flames belched forth, singing his clothes, but the light reflecting off his blade made the rest vanish. Stranger rushed forward and swung his shining sword, and cast “Remmihs” again, making his blade shine brighter. The dragon blocked the blade with his claws, but the claws shattered. The dragon opened its mouth again, but this time spoke a word in the language of magic, making him not a shadow, but as real as Stranger himself, and billowed forth hot flames, which melted Stranger’s Zanbato and burned his skin. Stranger swore, and drew his last weapon, the dagger with jewels encrusted in the hilt. As the dagger flashed in the light, the dragon drew back, suddenly hearing a high-pitched ringing sound. In Stranger’s hand, the blade began to vibrate, and Stranger felt his muscles harden, and his arm began moving involuntarily as the dagger grew in his hand, becoming a broadsword and striking the dragon once, twice, three times before the dragon fell before him.

“You have beaten me, the Dragon King. For this feat you get both my service and a look into the Book of Infinite Knowledge.” The dragon’s voice was weak, and he turned back into a pool of shadows, shifting. When he spoke again, his voice was once more strong. “You may ask the book one question, if you so desire.”

Stranger’s eyes widened, as the Book of Infinite Knowledge was the rarest gift one person could have. In each of the ten dimensions, only one was to be found, but they were not always books. In the first dimension, it was nothing but a string of numbers, ones and zeros. In the second, it was a cloud of lightning, in which the wind rushing inside would give a whispering voice answering your questions. The third was an echo given back to you from your own voice, changed in words but not in pitch, located in a giant cavern. The fourth – his own dimension – was hidden inside the eternal flames of the Great Forge, where the world was made, seen only as images. The fifth was in an odd device called a computer, words scrolling across the flat surface, the sixth was in a hall of mirrors, showing back to you images distorted by light, the seventh was a book, giving you the most detailed, easily seen answers of all ten. The eighth was a human, who has dreamed everything there is and retained the knowledge, but can only tell you if you ask, the ninth reflected in a pool of yearning, and the tenth a major Deity, all-seeing and all-powerful, who only answers certain people.

“I would like to read from the Book,” Stranger said, bowing to the Dragon King. “And I would like to commend you for a powerful fighter. I only won because of sheer luck, I think.” A pedestal was lowered from the ceiling, glowing bright from the amount of magic holding it up. Stranger slowly walked toward it, questions forming in his mind of what to ask. He opened it with shaking hands, and opened his mouth, only to have a thought stuck in his head to ask in his mind. “Who am I?” Words scrawled across the page, blood-red. “Thank you,” He said, shaken. “I will go back to my own dimension now. Shulac.” He body dematerialized, the dragon king only just touching him in time to go along for the journey. Their minds joined together for a brief minute, and stranger had an insight into the many years the dragon had lived, before his mind shut down from the pain of being separated from his body.

When he opened his eyes, the dragon king was a pendant around his neck, shown only in his shadow which moved a couple seconds after his body, as the shadow guardian could not move instantaneously with Stranger. He sat up and Lily looked over, joy apparent in every manner one person could show. Silently he took the pendant, and placed it around her neck, and the shadow behind him moved to her, flickering in the torchlight. He then closed his eyes, hearing the dragon telling Lily what had happened in the dimension of shadows, and falling gently asleep.

As he slept, she allowed her wings to show, stretching them out as far as she could; a full six feet of wingspan. She bowed her head and called the goddess who watched over her. “Cephalia... He seems... Stronger somehow. More assured of himself. Why?” Lily asked; her eyes full of wonder as always as she looked upon the shining being before her. “It can’t just be from beating the dragon king, could it?”

“No,” Cephalia replied, her voice making no noise but inside Lily’s mind. “He has found the village of his birth, and his true name.”

A blast rocked everything in the room, and Lily felt a void, as if something was missing as Cephalia left. Lily sank down and slept next to Stranger.

A few hours later, they woke up to the smell of smoke.

“Give the demon child to us, or let your house burn!” A mob stood outside, brandishing pitchforks and torches held high. “Give her to us now!”

Lily quickly grabbed Stranger’s shoulders and flew, Stranger’s eyes widening as he saw her wings come from nowhere. They landed in front of the town Truntek. Stranger collapsed, not used to being held for so long, while Lily stood there, light emanating from her wings.

“This… this is where I was born!” Stranger exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “I was thrown out because of strange occurrences around me!”

“Over the years,” Lily said, her voice sounding as if it echoed across time and space. “You shut out your powers, your magic. Tell me your true name, and I shall unleash them from your bonds.”

“Gladly,” Stranger replied. “Gladly I reveal the secret kept hidden from me, the name Ceres. For it is who I am, and who I should be.”

Lily took the fabric of the universe and whispered into it his name. As the words left her mouth, they wrapped themselves in blue light and spread out into the world. Stranger felt odd, and his shoulder blades itched.

At this moment, the mob was pouring out of the mountain range. They had tripled their numbers with talk of the ‘demon child’ and, armed with daggers and axes, looked dangerous instead of foolish.

Stranger climbed up on a hill in front of the town, and looked out at the army before him. “This town is MINE. Its people are MY people. If you march any closer, you had best pray for mercy; once this battle truly begins I will slaughter you, even in death.” The words crashed through the valley, amplified by some unknown source. His dream flooded back into his mind as the itching in his shoulder blades became unbearable until wings burst from his skin, lifting him into the air. Just as he reached the top of his small flap, a slew of arrows pierced him, and he fell heavily on his stomach, the arrows pushed in further and snapping them there. His eyes slowly were flooded with golden color, and clouds formed, dark and brooding in the air above him. They gathered power and unleashed it, scything through a third of the mob before Stranger closed his eyes, the clouds vanishing as if they had never been there. The mob started forward, seeing Stranger dead, only to be stopped by a cry of anguish tearing out in a furious torrent from Lily’s throat. The mob slammed their hands over their ears as eardrums tore, blood leaking out of their noses.

Lily’s hands glowed a dark, violent blue, and she took the fabric in her hands and tore the valley where they stood out of time, freezing the world around them. Rage pumped through her veins, fiery hot, gathering itself in her mind. The dragon king formed behind her, allowing most of his magic to be added to her vast reserve, and she let it loose, multiple colors flaring from her hands to strike the people. They dropped down, the life having been torn from them, and it gathered into a huge ball of energy above the field. Then she forced all of that energy into Stranger’s corpse, and it forced out the arrows and filled his body with life once more. The valley crashed back into time, and Lily fell, her energy gone. The dragon King stood watch as Stranger and Lily slept.

Deep in the evening, the sun a slit in the sky above the mountain range, Lily and Ceres sat on the highest peak, having flown there, the dragon slowly circling above them. Ceres looked at Lily, and Lily grinned as they spread their wings and chased the dragon towards the sun.

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Comments and suggestions are, as always, appreciated and desired.

Also, if you have need of any help with a part of a story, feel free to ask, I have been writing and RolePlaying for the better part of three years.

i didn't like that the part about the different dimensions, but that's because calling them dimensions just didn't feel right with the rest of the story. There was a little too much fantasy; however, overall, it was well written and exciting

Thank you for your prompt reading and review! I stand amazed at the speed, usually I have to wait several days for a response.

I had said it was different dimensions merely because I could not think of a better term for it. It was supposed to be a sort of medieval-type world, sort of like the Final Fantasy series, a mixture of old cold hard steel and magic, and alternate realities sounded too.. futuristic may be the word im looking for. Can you think of a better term for it? The story can always be revised.

We have a few very active users (me included) so most likely, there will be a quick response.

now, in my opinion, dimensions also makes it seem futuristic. I'll tell you if i come up with a better term

Your writing style is unique. Although I do not care for the full-on fantasy genre, this one pulled me in with interest. It's pretty good; keep writing and you'll find that your mind will open up new ideas. Fantasy is the greatest way to start to branch off into other genres.

Yeah iBOCK, if possible help think of a better term/idea than dimension

It's a great story. I hope you will be an active member and maybe write more stories.

I am planning on being very active.. and I have many stories to share, and more to write.

Also, iBOK3, I have several other genres of stories partially written, but this is the only one I have ever finished as of yet. Once I can,I will post my very first story, even though it really is terribly worded and constructed, but I havent had time to revise it.