Copyright © 2020 Han Yang.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
ASIN: TBD
Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously.
Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.
Acknowledgements
Thank you for giving a new author a shot. This book is dedicated to my crazy children, loving wife, and the cat. Huge shout out to El Geron whose deviant account for commissions is in the back of the book. Actually the cat made this tougher, always hitting keys when I’m not looking. I’ll get you Spooky…
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 211
CHAPTER 318
CHAPTER 424
CHAPTER 531
CHAPTER 648
CHAPTER 755
CHAPTER 859
CHAPTER 971
CHAPTER 1078
CHAPTER 1188
CHAPTER 1296
CHAPTER 13106
CHAPTER 14125
CHAPTER 15133
CHAPTER 16145
CHAPTER 17154
CHAPTER 18165
CHAPTER 19172
CHAPTER 20177
CHAPTER 21195
CHAPTER 22209
CHAPTER 23216
CHAPTER 24223
CHAPTER 25231
CHAPTER 26241
CHAPTER 27253
CHAPTER 28263
INTERMISSION 1274
CHAPTER 29277
CHAPTER 30287
CHAPTER 31300
CHAPTER 32313
CHAPTER 33320
CHAPTER 34329
CHAPTER 35343
CHAPTER 36348
CHAPTER 37356
CHAPTER 39381
CHAPTER 40392
CHAPTER 41399
CHAPTER 42408
CHAPTER 43423
CHAPTER 44430
CHAPTER 45437
CHAPTER 46449
CHAPTER 47459
CHAPTER 48472
CHAPTER 49478
CHAPTER 50486
CHAPTER 51492
CHAPTER 52498
INTERMISSION 2514
CHAPTER 53519
CHAPTER 54528
CHAPTER 55538
CHAPTER 56547
CHAPTER 57559
CHAPTER 58572
CHAPTER 59580
CHAPTER 60600
CHAPTER 61610
CHAPTER 62628
CHAPTER 63640
CHAPTER 64662
CHAPTER 65675
CHAPTER 66684
CHAPTER 67695
INTERMISSION 3703
CHAPTER 68707
CHAPTER 69721
CHAPTER 70729
CHAPTER 71746
CHAPTER 72759
CHAPTER 73765
CHAPTER 74772
CHAPTER 75788
Afterword793
SAMPLE OF REBORN AS A BARON LORD795
CHAPTER 1
Los Angeles - Outside a Starbucks
17 June 2031
“Now that, I find interesting,” Caitlyn said in a sultry tone. “Please tell me more.”
I smiled, eying the brunette. My pause resulted in her tapping the table impatiently.
We sat outside the coffee shop people watching. The busy crowd outside the railed fence drifted by while she focused solely on me. Basking in the early afternoon’s rays, I took the opportunity to reflect.
“I started working at the library as a janitor. Honest to God’s truth,” I said, and she winced.
If I had to guess, the combination of me admitting I was a janitor probably hit her as hard as mentioning God in California.
A drone delivered our drinks and I popped the top off mine, letting the rising steam waft a lovely scent of white chocolate my way.
Call me old fashioned, but when a lovely lady showed interest in me or picked up on the fact I was interested in her, I asked them out on an actual date.
“I promise to get to the point you’re so eager to hear. The library became my bastion, my refuge. I graduated high school, never quitting my part time work. Two years later, I finished my degree in computer systems and website design,” I said with a distant stare, trying to remember the time fondly.
A honking horn from the street traffic resulted in a homeless man getting into a shouting match with the driver. The brief distraction forced me to continue a moment later.
“So, I found myself with a choice. Take a gig at a small malpractice corporate office or continue being a librarian’s assistant. One earned a lot, the other a pittance and meant I’d have to get a master’s degree in library science to lose the assistant title,” I said with a sigh.
“Yes, yes, all great,” Caitlyn said, edging herself over the table to lean closer to me. “What about your ex-girlfriends and current lovers? That was where you set the hook. Now reel me in.”
The woman’s seductive appearance held my attention. A diving neckline exposed ample soft flesh. She caught me staring, batting her eyelashes as if she were some innocent girl.
She pulled her hair back in a neat ponytail that she swirled then twirled around her fingers, out of habit. Her hazel eyes sparkled mischievously, and I fidgeted under her intense gaze. The woman oozed sex appeal and I felt outclassed.
“I’ve never had a girlfriend. Twenty-five years old and not once have I had a relationship long enough to call someone that. I had this talk with my parents before they passed,” I said, about to launch into my routine for justifying no-strings sex.
She interjected, laying a delicate hand on top of my forearm. “I’m so sorry. I’m sure they wish they were here to see the man you’ve grown into.”
“Life is fickle, and although I do miss them, my point is that relationships lead to disappointment when short term fun leads to long term problems. To me, it’s like taking that job with the malpractice office. I’d be happy with the money, but I wouldn’t want a career there. I could date a girl, but I don’t want to get married,” I admitted.
“But you like the soft touch of a woman?” she asked bluntly.
It was 2031 and ladies were more assertive and confident than ever.
I had been asked for coffee or for my number by many beautiful women while at work. Being a handsome librarian’s assistant certainly had its perks.
In this case, Caitlyn told me she was from Vegas. She was visiting a friend, who’d mentioned that my looks and carefree, fun attitude would make for a good catch during her trip to town. I caught on to the situation quickly and accepted the invitation and now we were talking about sex.
“Yeah, I’m a young man who loves a fun tryst, just not ready to settle down. That seems to be the kicker for a lot of my dates. I don’t want you bringing a toothbrush over or asking why I didn’t set my status to ‘in a relationship,’” I said honestly with a halfhearted shrug.
I always tried to make my intentions clear; I’d found that honesty was usually my most successful strategy.
“Bree said you’re not a player, but I can see how it comes off that way. Well Damien, I’m a bit of an oddball myself. I’m a believer in Wicca,” Caitlyn said. “Being a Wiccan tends to drive men off—sends them running for the hills.”
Probably was best that I hadn’t said God accepted
my parents into heaven, earlier. I didn’t like to be preachy, but I didn’t judge either.
“Okay,” I said. “As long as you don’t try to convert me, I’ll try to be understanding.”
“Oof,” Caitlyn said with a cringe. “Sheesh, this will sound bad, and I promise no converting or brainwashing, but… I need a man for… a ritual. To take some oaths over a decagon door.”
Her sorrowful eyes relaxed from their squint and switched to a happy gaze, with a big smile. “And then we can grab a drink at my hotel room. Yes, a drink sounds lovely.” She winked. “And by a drink, I mean we strip naked and do the kind of things to each other that require a shower… during or after.” She smirked.
I frowned, eyeing the lovely woman in a whole new darkness.
I popped my coffee’s lid on and sipped the delightful drink. White chocolate in coffee, divine.
Sheet wrestling after a ritual with a Wiccan? Unique, and yet just another day in California.
She bit her bottom lip, her bedroom eyes locking to mine as if willing me to capitulate.
I struggled, fighting a sudden urge to agree, and I didn’t know why.
“This ritual, I assume you believe it to be real?” I asked, leaning back to watch her reaction.
Caitlyn adjusted her ponytail, showcasing her assets. The woman sure knew how to tease a man.
Without missing a beat, she said, “I do. If successful, my ritual will send you to a new realm. Not sure what you'll arrive as, but to return you’ll need to achieve a whole lotta power. Power that also accrues to me, if you succeed.”
I snickered, trying not to laugh, lest I offend.
“Where’s this ritual, how long is it, and what if it fails?” I asked.
Halloween, dark closets, scary movies, and rustling under the bed didn’t spook me.
Clowns, though... those assholes were terrifying, but the supernatural always failed to feel real to me.
“Look, I think you’re cute and nice,” she fidgeted, “I feel awkward even asking. I’m staying at a Motel Six that’s only twenty minutes away. It’ll take ten minutes for the ritual, give or take, and if my Wiccan ritual fails, I’ll reward you,” she admitted. “Honestly, I wanna reward you anyway, but I do need the help first.”
I eyed her speculatively. It was my day off, and honestly, this wasn’t the oddest thing a woman had ever asked me to do.
I shuddered, thinking of Tiffany and her toe fetish with baby dolls.
“A quick ritual and then that ‘drink’?” I offered.
“Perfect,” she said, scooting her seat back.
A Tesla Auto-Taxi picked us up from the curb a few minutes later.
Like a pent-up lioness, she leaped into my lap as soon as the door closed. The robotic voice told Caitlyn to stop kissing my neck in the back seat, spoiling the fun.
“Ugh… I don’t want to walk. I guess this is a good time to tell you about Nordan,” Caitlyn said, adjusting to sit beside me.
“The who to the what now?” I asked playfully.
“An old tale. Do you like stories?” she asked. I slung an arm around her shoulder, nodding. “Nordan was an expansive realm that became so… boring. Humans were not much different than they were here - during the Middle Ages. They lived, farmed, dug, fished, and toiled to put food on the table. All this was done with animals, grit, and determination.”
“Not an Earth story?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“Hells below, not in the slightest. This planet is in our universe and linked to Earth. Same orbit, same seasons, different continents, different reasons. Nordan was transformed by a horrific magic that coated the land in a deep mist. Following me so far?”
I stared out at the traffic, seeing a driverless solar-paneled vehicle swerve to avoid a pothole. The city had never recovered after three years of quarantine. Everywhere my eyes shifted, they revealed depressing scenes of what had once been a great state.
I gazed down at the shorter woman, noticing how little she cared about the poor at the side of the road, huddled in tents.
“Nordan, not Earth, no electricity, bad magic, has humans,” I summarized.
Caitlyn continued.
“The mist soaked the land and consumed everything trapped in its grasp. Humans at higher elevations watched as their brethren vanished. The expected cries for help from those lost never reached the ears of those eager to lend aid.
“The great kings sent valiant knights into the magic to assess the situation, but to the last, they never returned. Even their horses disappeared into the magic.”
“So, the higher elevation kingdoms got a pass?” I asked with a scoff.
Caitlyn smiled and said, “They did… and they did not. The spell was not that black and white and for a full year both worlds that were linked together suffered. And then, like that…” She snapped her fingers. “The magic vanished on the first anniversary.”
My gaze returned out the window, the despair of Los Angeles sticking a stake in my heart. I used to love this town as a kid. These days, I dreamed of fanciful lands or read books to escape reality.
“Let me guess, those caught in the mist became zombies?” I queried, having seen a similar themed movie recently.
“Better and worse than that, depending on whom you ask. Those caught by the spell ceased to exist on Nordan. Their homes, tilled fields, and hard-won civilization all vanished with them. Some theorize that the monsters who now roam those territories are actually humans, but they’re not. The blighted are creations swapped from an overfilled world to Nordan,” Caitlyn said.
I grunted, growing tired of seeing the traffic. I focused on Caitlyn and her Nordan story. “You’ve lost me. Some weird magic wiped out several human civilizations and replaced them with… mythical creatures referred to as the blighted?”
“Good, good, you’re getting the picture in here,” Caitlyn said, tapping my forehead. “Sometimes, pretending is more important than seeing.”
“Yes, I do love a good book, even more than a good movie,” I agreed.
“Nordan is special. I hope you sense that from my tale. There are a few worlds where magicians can bind, alter, affect, and warp reality; well, realities, really. In this case, a sorceress of untold power cast a spell across two worlds.
“She sent the humans on Nordan to Ostriva, while Ostriva’s mythical residents were sent to Nordan… with a few alterations,” Caitlyn said, the last bit sounding a bit ominous.
“Alterations?” I asked.
“A simple way to track the achievers from the useless. The competition rewards greatness. At its most basic, two sides compete for boons by killing each other. Simple really, and built that way on purpose for all to understand,” Caitlyn replied, her condescending tone making me feel like I was a fifth grader.
“Why?” I asked. “All good stories need a reason.”
We arrived outside a rather typical California motel; vagrant infested but cheap. I suddenly had second thoughts about helping Caitlyn but somehow found the courage to exit the vehicle.
She was on vacation and there were a thousand cameras around. Hell, even the taxi had been recording us.
Maybe this was the only hotel room she could afford. Yeah, that had to be it.
Caitlyn waggled a key with one hand, dragging me forward with the other.
“The why is simple,” she continued. “The planets became stale and boring. Believe it or not, even as a Wiccan who believes in the goddess and the horned god, I know there are many gods. We each have our Deities to serve,” she said this in a way that made it seem like it was common knowledge.
The crunch of grit under my shoes changed to a squish. I refused to look down to see what I’d stepped in.
The seedy motel disturbed me for a number of reasons. I might not be rich, but I liked to think I had standards.
Caitlyn led us under a second-floor walkway, comparing the scribble on her key to each door’s number.
“Basically, both worlds became embroiled in a w
ar that pitted one against the other in a competition for dominance. Ostriva had hundreds of mighty species while humanity had its strength in governments, swords, cavalry, and arrows. To increase the chaotic nature of the competition, the gods added magic to the mix,” Caitlyn said.
“But why do you call it a competition?” I asked.
She gave me a teasing frown for my impatient interruption. “Both sides gather something called Zorta. By gather, I mean they cultivate it from those they kill. If you're an Ostrivan minotaur, for example, and you kill a human, you gain their Zorta.
“Zorta is what gives the gods their power. The problem is, they cannot collect it themselves—and it must be given freely.”
“If this minotaur is a champion of, say, Torbearn the Fearless, and he achieves 10,000 Zorta. Torbearn can trade the champion a wish for his Zorta,” Caitlyn said, tossing her hand side to side. “Within reason.”
“Can’t Torbearn just wish for Zorta, solving the whole need for all of this bloodletting?” I asked.
“Not how stories, gods, or real-life work. Nothing in this universe is free. Even death has a cost, and trust me, we Wiccans know,” Caitlyn said, and I paused as she unlocked the motel room door. “Yeah, that came out wrong.” She frowned. “I’m a hundred-pound girl with fake tits. You’re six-foot-three and fit. I’m the one who should be worried about going into the roach infested motel.”
“So, your story, this is what you believe you're doing this ritual for?” I asked curiously.
“The skinny of it, yes,” she said, bouncing her eyebrows at me.
She entered the room and I hesitated.
“You know, I don’t believe in the supernatural,” I said, staying outside the door.
“I need to get down to my underwear, if that helps you find your recalcitrant courage,” she said with a snort.
I gulped and stormed the breach like a hero.
The second I entered the room, two things hit me hard. First off, Caitlyn was clad only in a tiny thong, with a lacy bra. The seductive outfit enhanced, rather than covered her flawless body.
I gawked.
The next was that the bed sheets, mattress, and even box springs had been set against the wall. In the very center of the room was a ten-sided shape outlined with crow feathers.