Ren's Tale Books 1-3: Chronicles of the Seventh Realm (Ren's Tale Omnibus) Read online

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Author’s Notes

  Acknowledgements

  Author Bio

  Title

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Author Notes

  Acknowledgements

  Author Bio

  Title

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  WANT MORE?

  Author Notes

  Acknowledgements

  Author Bio

  ORPHAN'S PRICE

  Chronicles of the Seventh Realm

  Ren's Tale Book 1

  By NAK Baldron

  Orphan's Price by NAK Baldron

  Published by Aconite Cafe

  P.O. Box 63

  Marble Falls, TX 78654

  www.AconiteCafe.com

  www.NAKBaldron.com

  © 2018 NAK Baldron

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact:

  [email protected]

  Cover by Aconite Cafe.

  PROLOGUE

  IT WAS LATE AT NIGHT—or early in the morning—but to Professor Henry Velden it was the perfect time to work. While his peers dreamed of the mathematical formulas the Amethyst Nation delivered earlier in the week, he toiled in his lab on new inventions. Most mathematicians spent their days finding proofs through formulas, but he preferred to prove through experimentation.

  After checking his calculations for the fourth time, Prof. Velden plugged the variables into his computer simulation and executed the virtual experiment. A green bar moved across the screen as it counted up from 1%. A yawn overtook him, and he arched his back.

  His fellow professors poked fun at his experiments. No one believed his inventions could change the world, but still, he persisted. His experiments would bring the Pearl Nation back into the spotlight. The right technology would force the world to treat them as equals once more. No longer would magic be the only measuring stick, now that technology was a reliable substitute.

  The computer chimed, indicating the simulation had finished. 87% likelihood for success. Not the best odds in the world but Prof. Velden would take it. If his plan worked, he'd be a hero. As he prepared the hardware and wired up the power supply, he thought through his goals. Limit the energy flow into the machine until the rift opened between his universe and what he hoped would be a parallel universe, releasing a large surge of energy to kick-start a feedback loop which would stabilize the wormhole.

  A quick triple check verified the proper circuit board connections. The last thing he could afford was another power surge to the grid. He bundled himself into a thermally insulated coat but skipped the proper face masks—he didn't plan to be out long. Opening the front door filled his house with an icy chill. He made sure the door sealed behind him, ensuring his house would heat itself back up quick enough. Fortunately, central heating was the first thing the Pearl Nation mastered after magic faded.

  The ground was covered with snow two feet high, and the path he kept cleared had a thin white sheet of fresh snow. Prof. Velden walked the thirty yards to his shed where he kept spare parts and, most importantly, his own fusion reactor. The university hadn't approved the requisition orders for the materials, but they were common enough that the odds of Prof. Velden being caught were slim. The roof had grown new icicles since the last time he'd visited. He made a mental note to break them off.

  He slid the shed door open just wide enough to slip in and slide the door closed behind him. A furnace in the corner kept the room just above the freezing point of water, warm enough for most citizens. Using nature's cooling effects ensured his electronics wouldn't overheat. The shed was large enough to house his reactor in a back corner, offer a workstation to the left where he sometimes built prototypes, and tuck the furnace in the front right corner. The majority of the shed stored dismantled electronics piled on every available surface and hanging from nets in the ceiling.

  The reactor's display showed 70% fuel capacity—more than enough to run his experiment. He pulled the wall breaker behind the reactor which opened the connection to energy from the public power grid. Starting the reactor took enough electricity to run a neighborhood for a day. The reactor's display showed the capacitors at 30% and rising. Using capacitors meant Prof. Velden could charge his reactor rather than pulling the energy all at once and risk causing a neighborhood outage. Energy was free to use, but even so, using so much as to cause an outage would result in a severe fine, and possible loss of his position at the university.

  The readout reached 100%. Prof. Velden disconnected the grid and ignited the fusion reaction. An ultra-hot stream of plasma pulsated inside the reactor's core, held in place by a magnetic field strong enough to rip apart steel.

  A loud crack like thunder rumbled against the walls of the shed.

  Curious.

  Prof. Velden tapped on a diagnostic readout as fast as possible. All systems showed to be working within tolerable conditions. There was no way to look inside the reactor and see what was happening, but if the diagnostics claimed everything was fine, there was no reason for him not to believe them.

  What had caused a rumble loud enough to shake his shed walls?

  He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and went back outside to investigate. Off in the distance where the ice met ocean was a blue energy pulse hanging in midair. He cocked his head to the side and blinked his eyes in an attempt to shake off what he saw before him. It didn't work.

  He ran toward the light, ignoring the burning sensation in his calves as he repeatedly pulled his feet out of the snow banks. Before he could get to the water's edge, the blue glow vanished and total darkness engulfed him. Only the small spots of light from his shed and house were visible behind him as he turned about to regain his bearings.

  Prof. Velden used the built-in flashlight on his right coat sleeve, to see where the blue light had been a moment earlier. He sprinted forward, and as he neared the spot, noticed a dark pile of clothes on the ice less than ten feet from the ocean. A woman cradling a young child. Henry
didn't know what to make of it. He worried she was dead—neither of them moved.

  The desire to learn the unknown won out—he approached ignoring the tightening in his chest, knelt down to lift her, and she opened her eyes. Bright blue eyes, the color of the rift he'd just seen, stared back at him.

  "Thank the gods," Henry whispered more to himself than anyone else. "Are you okay?"

  She stared at him, a blank expression on her face, either unaware of where she was or unable to understand him. He reached out a hand to lift her up, and she scuttled back, tightening the child into her body.

  He raised both hands to let her see he meant no harm. Reluctantly, she allowed him to lift her and the child. He could now see that it was a young boy—perhaps two years old.

  Prof. Velden had never been a strong man, but somehow, he carried her and the child back to his home. When he laid her down on his sofa, he saw the blood which stained the side of her blouse and skirt. Blood covered his coat. She'd bled the whole way home. He reached out to check her skin, it was ice cold. He could see death coming into her eyes, and he knew she had only moments left to live.

  Henry had seen death up close when a plague ravaged his city as a young man. All the men of the university had been called upon to lead teams for quarantine and decontamination. So many died in front of him—so many more he'd been forced to barricade inside homes with the sick. What plagued him wasn't the scenes of death, but the visions of survivors eating the dead to survive. Those were the darkest days of the Pearl Nation, and ones they never spoke of.

  The young boy cried while his mother tried everything to comfort him with the last of her strength. She reached her hand out and grabbed Henry's arm with surprising strength. He knelt closer to her.

  "Help him."

  Her eyes focused toward the far wall of the room.

  "I promise."

  She didn't respond, leaving Henry to decide the young boy's fate.

  The child fell silent, apparently able to sense his mother passing. He had the same bright blue eyes as his mother and stared at Prof. Velden while he paced the room.

  Henry made the decision to care for the boy. After all, he'd promised, and everyone knew there was no backing out of a death oath. He would call the clerk's office when the sun rose, explain what happened to the woman, and file the proper paperwork to adopt the child. Henry hadn't the slightest idea how to raise a child, but he knew how to research any subject and was confident that child-rearing would be no different.

  He looked at the boy, deciding what to call him. The boy's blue eyes calmed his mind, allowing him to focus in on the present like a laser.

  "What should I call you?

  "Humm

  "How about Henry? And for short, I'll call you Ren. That way no one confuses the two of us."

  The boy giggled and gave Henry a huge smile.

  "Ren it is." Prof. Velden collapsed to the floor beside the sofa.

  Ren crawled out of his dead mother's arms and into Henry's lap. Fate had seen fit to throw the two of them together, and Henry wouldn't shirk his obligations. He moved his hand along the floor and felt a cool spot where blood had dripped onto the hardwood.

  That would be a pain in the ass to clean, but that was a problem for tomorrow.

  CHAPTER ONE

  FOURTEEN YEARS LATER

  REN RAN FOR HIS LIFE. Johnathan Belfry III and his friends were chasing him, and he feared he wouldn't be able to hide from them this time. His internal monologue claimed it was the end of the line—running was pointless. People told him he was useless his whole life and it was pointless for him to try, but he hadn't let their doubts hold him back.

  Why let his own doubts?

  As he turned into the alley, he saw a corner he could duck into and hide from the boys. Ren slipped into the darkened corner and purposely slowed his breathing, nearly slipping out of consciousness from lack of oxygen. He watched through blurred vision as three boys ran past, themselves panting. The instant they turned the far corner of the alley, Ren let out a long, controlled exhale and steadily breathed in the fresh air of freedom. Experience had taught him sucking in air too quickly led to unconsciousness, the last thing he needed at the moment.

  The freezing air chilled his lungs, but oxygen flushed his blood sending a new rush of energy through his muscles as it mixed with the adrenaline. The sensation was invigorating.

  Ren never felt as alive as when he ran from his schoolmates. They tortured him because of his gifts. Ren was the only child in his generation to have magical abilities strong enough to gain him admittance to the Amethyst Nation. The other boys hated him for it, despite the fact they were all better than him at science and math, the only subjects the Pearl Nation publicly supported.

  Secretly, the other boys were envious of his talents, as were many adults who'd never given up their own dreams of becoming sorcerers. Magic was coveted by all Fencura. Everyone, from every nation, wanted to be a sorcerer—to wield magic with such skill as to bend the fabric of reality to their wills.

  The world wanted to control their magic with levels of perfection required to join the Amethyst Nation. Since Ren's third year in school, the teachers said they might choose him, which made his classmates jealous. To be so young and already demonstrate natural gifts was rare, especially in the Pearl Nation. After setting the world record of twelve initiates in one year three hundred years ago—an unheard-of number; three being considered large—not one student from the Pearl Nation had passed the initiation since.

  The Pearl Nation had kept hope alive for nearly a hundred years, as candidate after candidate failed, but eventually, pragmatism won out. They turned their backs on the entire process, choosing to focus on science and technology instead.

  With the coast clear, Ren had as good an opening as any to head back to the orphanage. His classmates knew where he lived, but they would never follow him there because their parents would trounce them if they found out they bullied an orphan for sport.

  Ren didn't mind the running so much, but hated the pointlessness of bullying. The boys rarely caught him, and when they did, they normally just threw him into the snow and laughed. He admired their talents with numbers, and he used to cry himself to sleep wishing they'd return the admiration. When Ren realized their bullying had more to do with their own envy than anything he did, it allowed him to pity them. Today had been different—he'd insulted Johnathan Belfry III. Johnathan's father was the head of the scientist committee, which made him the closest thing to royalty the Pearl Nation had.

  Mr. Belfry Jr. was a stern man who used his wealth and influence to monopolize the energy sector. Mr. Belfry Sr. had been an electrician, but Belfry Jr. was a clever engineer and an even savvier businessman. Johnathan developed into a spoiled brat who spent most of his time and efforts at school making Ren feel horrid for having no father or mother. Johnathan's mother had died in childbirth and his father never showed the slightest affection toward him. What got under Ren's skin the most was how easily Johnathan mastered their subjects—he was a genius by any definition.

  Ren's own mother died when he was two, and everything he knew of her came from public records. Except her smell. Lavender in autumn. Not that the Pearl Nation had lavender or autumn just a relentless winter, with two months of summer. The layers of ice would melt just enough to see the ground underneath before winter started again burying everything in snow and ice piled as high as fifteen feet. Ancient legends call summer the Hot Death.

  Ren found his way to the boys' home orphanage where Mr. Griffin waited for him. A giant of a man with decaying teeth. Even the boys older than Ren cowered before him.

  "You're late, again. School let out over an hour ago."

  "It's not my fault." Ren stood on the doorstep waiting to enter. "They chased me again."

  "That is not an acceptable excuse," Mr. Griffin said, "I have already told you that Mr. Belfry III is a respectable young man. If you upset him, you best apologize."

  "I can't apologize for hi
m being an asshole!"

  "Watch your mouth young man, or I will wash it out with soap," Mr. Griffin said, pointing to the bathrooms, "You best learn your place in society. Now report to the kitchens. You are on dishwashing duty."

  "That's three days in a row."

  "Report there now."

  Ren threw his bag against the wall under the coat hooks and stormed off. The only reason he received dish duty again was his issues with Johnathan. Ren didn't know how to make Johnathan quit picking on him, he'd been trying for years. It seemed like every time he tried to be nice or reason with Johnathan, he bullied him more.

  While the other boys prepared the evening meal Ren washed all the dishes from breakfast and the few from lunch. The three littlest ones stayed at the orphanage all day and ate sandwiches for lunch. At least he had variety in his lunches at school. If he had to eat sandwiches every day and deal with Johnathan, he might snap and use his magic against him. Sometimes, Ren thought Johnathan wanted him to. For him to use his powers for violence or malicious intent and be permanently exiled from the Pearl Nation, losing any chance of joining the Amethyst Nation and leaving his dreadful life behind.

  Ren knew his powers were a gift, and if he used them in such evil ways, providence would punish him more. Given his lot in life, he worried where providence would send him as punishment. He already lost his mother and father, and feared to discover what more he might lose.

  It barely took him ten minutes to clean the dishes. Ren always used his magic in the kitchen to apply extra heat and elbow grease to the plates which made the grease and grime fall off. Mr. Griffin had yelled at him the first time, but after he saw how clean the plates were, he'd never said another word about using magic to clean. Using his magic elsewhere was a different story.

  Mr. Griffin was a bitter man and lacked the basic understandings of science, making him an outcast. If he hadn't converted his home into the only orphanage in the Pearl Nation, he might have wound up homeless himself. Ren didn't know of any other income Mr. Griffin received besides the government payments for orphans.

  With the dishes clean—and dinner an hour away from being done–Ren snuck out of the kitchen. He counted his blessings—no one was in the hallway. The children were in the back room playing and Mr. Griffin would be in his study, most likely reading the daily newspaper. Ren would read the paper tomorrow after Mr. Griffin threw it out.