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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Contest Entry · #1936655
He had no name. It had been stolen. He couldn’t get it back. He was a ghost.
Edit 1: after Review of "Orbs of Misnomer"
Edit 2: after Review of "Orbs of Misnomer"

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         He had no name. It had been stolen. He couldn’t get it back. He was a ghost.

         He approached the end of his journey through this barren land of nothing but silver sand as far as the horizon. No light source could be seen in the clear, grey sky, but still the land was constantly lit. He had gathered heroes from other worlds to fight for him. They had conquered countless monsters; every drop of blood purified by the sand to become the energy they would use to defeat the thief.

         The first time failed.

         The thief had absorbed the pets that the nameless one had created. Each form that the doppelganger pets had mastered became an extra burst of power for the thief to use as an attack. The heroes had barely escaped. Their damped spirits soon lifted as they swore to avenge their nameless friend. Their hopes rested on the only pet that hadn’t been absorbed; the only pet that wasn’t from this world.

         It was a dragon.

         The orange dragon had been found by a hero in his home world. The dragon's power grew faster than was normal for his race. Since the defeated monsters in this place were his only source of food, their blood surrendered its raw power to him. His breath and claws were able to damage his enemies or to heal his friends.

         The heroes were ready.

         The thief roared with mocking laughter as the heroes returned. His power had been increasing for decades before the desperate one had begged for the heroes' help. His towering form was more than twice as high as the tallest hero. He had mastered the imagination-fueled magic of this world. He still had some of the power that he had absorbed from the last battle.

         The heroes would die this time.

         The battle was furious. Blood enhanced weapons flashed as the heroes attacked. The sky crackled as the thief sent bolts of absorbed power from the spheres orbiting his body. The baby dragon unleashed the extent of his power on the one enemy that wouldn't die after the first hit.

         The nameless one waited for the perfect time to strike.

         Each of the heroes had received an orb; a large gem from the nameless one. Each orb bestowed a unique ability that the heroes threw at the thief with minimal effect. Elements, summoned creatures, magic to move and change: none of it worked. The thief grew bored of the heroes that wouldn’t die. He summoned the rest of his spheres into a single lump, ready to obliterate all opposition.

         The nameless one finally understood.

         Through the orb of communication, he sent his plan to the heroes faster than words could convey. They retreated into a tight group and joined their orbs over their heads. The dragon flew behind the gathered orbs and faced the thief, ready to send the winning blast.

484/500 words
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