This is my first ever novel and so there might be some writing style changes in the future as I try to improve myself, but please give me your honest reviews and comments as to get better as fast as possible.

  Now sorry for holding you back, please enjoy my novel.

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  The Novel Start

  Main Character POV

  Twangggg… Fwip… Swhoooch… Thud!

  I lower my bow as the arrow slams into the training target fifty meters away. Not perfect, but not bad either.

  “Slightly off-center,” I think to myself, shaking my head. “No wonder this isn’t my usual bow.”

  I sling the bow over my shoulder and walk toward the rack. My fingers brush over the hand the table under it as I set the bow down.

  I need a break. And a good wash. I’m drenched sweating.

  I reach the washroom door as I push open the door and step up to the sink turning on the tap.

  I splashes cold water over my face, washing away the sheen sweat from skin. I reach for a towel, and rub my face thoroughly until my it is dry.

  And suddenly as am putting the towel away without a warning, the ground start shaking beneath my feet.

  My heart jumps. I stumble forward, hands scrabbling for a hold on the sink, but my grip slips and I land hard on my backside, groaning in pain.

  “An earthquake?!” I gasp, voice hoarse with shock.

  The trembling intensifies. The lights flicker and shake. Tiles making noises. A low rumble shakes the walls. I grit my teeth and crawl backward, away from the sink, preparing myself in case it collapses.

  Creee—

  I hear the walls creaking as the mirror above the sink shakes loose, then crashes down, shattering. A few shards slice into my arm. I ignore the sting and keep crawling, putting distance between me and anything that might break or fall. The shaking doesn’t stop even after dozen fo seconds, it’s still going.

  Taboom!

  Walls crack and split around me. bricks rains from the ceiling.

  “Damn this old building!”

  And then, without warning, the world falls into darkness.

  …

  …

  …

  ‘What… what has happened?’

  ‘Wasn’t I in the middle of an earthquake? Did the building collapse? Did I pass out? If so, why can’t I feel any pain?’

  I move my arm, pressing my palm against something soft and... warm? Not concrete. Not metal. It feels… alive. Like flesh. Wet too.

  Fluids ooze between my fingers. My senses heighten as I realize I’m pressed in on all sides by something fleshy. The darkness is surrounding me and with that I start to panic.

  I push with my legs, twist my head, trying to see anything. Anything at all.

  After dozens of seconds, I see a faint light above me.

  Moments later, I hear a low sound—bwash… bwash…—coming through the dark. Then, suddenly, something powerful pushes me upward. My ribs ache. Every breath hisses through my teeth.

  ‘Ugh… this hurts!’ I think, unable to speak.

  After what feels like an eternity, I burst through the light gate. Tears sting my eyes. A sob catches in my throat unable to surpass it for some reason.

  A pair of arms cradle me, lifting me up. The quiet and unfamiliar voices sharpen into clarity:

  “Congratulations, madam it’s a boy!”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  A boy? My mind reels. Why does some stranger’s hand feel like the size of a boulder? And why does the language sound unfamiliar but yet I understand every word?

  I squint through tears, slowly opening my eyes. A woman in a white coat looms over me. She hands me to another woman with tired eyes, messy dark hair, pale from exhaustion. Her gaze meets mine.

  My jaw drops slightly as I take in the room: soft sheets, warm lamps, the gentle scent of plants in the air… and the fact that I’m completely naked, wrapped in a thin blanket, and unmistakably an infant.

  No way. This can’t be real.

  Was I… reborn?

  As the thought hits, a rush of fear floods me. I try to scream, but all that comes out is a cry. I clutch at my tiny hand, flexing my fingers. They’re mine but small, slow, completely unfamiliar and weak.

  I should’ve been dead. Or at least hospitalized. How did I end up being reborn?

  A soft voice croons beside me. “Hey there, little guy. You’ll be called Kian—Kian Goldmaul.”

  The woman brushes a some of my dark, messy hair from my forehead. Her eyes are brown, tired. Her face is pale from exhaustion, but her smile is gentle.

  Why can I understand this language? It doesn’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard in my past life.

  I force myself to calm down. my crying stops and the fear eases. After a while, I shift my gaze from the woman—my mother, I assume—to the room.

  Rich fabric lines the walls completely white with blue thread. A heavy oak crib stands nearby, carved in an old-fashioned style that looks both comfortable and luxurious.

  As I take it all in, the door opens. I turn my head slow, clumsy and see him: a tall man in fine black clothes, dark hair framing a handsome face. Two goat-like horns curl from his temples. He sees me looking and his face lights up.

  I stare. Fear prickles in my chest. Why does he have horns? Is he a demon? A monster?

  “Hey little one,” he announces with a huge grin, stepping forward until he reach me. “I’m your daddy. And that’s your mommy.” He points at the woman holding me, excited like a child.

  My dad? He is smiling. The doctor and my mother they’re not reacting to the horns. Could this be normal here?

  He reaches out, eager to touch me. My mother’s hand shoots up, blocking him.

  “Don’t touch him,” she scolds softly. “You might hurt him with those rough hands.”

  His shoulders slump. “That’s unfair. You get to hold him all you like, but I can’t?”

  His voice is tinged with fake hurt. My mother rolls her eyes clearly used to his act and turns away, smoothing the blanket around me.

  I study my father for a few more seconds, focusing on the horns, then shift my gaze to my mother.

  Why doesn’t she have them? Is he a different race? Or do the horns mean something?

  A soft creak echoes. I turn my head again. Another couple stands at the door. Before I can register their faces, the female doctor clears her throat and clap lightly.

  “All right, everyone the mother and the baby need rest. We’ll check vitals one more time before nightfall to ensure nothing happens.” She gestures for the horned man and a woman in noble attire also horned to step outside.

  My parents exchange glances.

  Embarrassment flickers across my father’s face. He looks at my mother, nods, then slips out behind the doctor, reluctant.

  ---

  Three weeks later.

  I lie in my mother’s arms, wrapped in crisp white garments. Mira Goldmaul, my mother rocks me gently, humming a lullaby I almost recognize. Her no longer tired eyes meet those of a visitor: a stately man with black hair, sharp eyes, and horns even longer than my father’s. Beside him stands a woman in an elegant gown, her horns graceful and slender.

  My father, Ronan Goldmaul, shake hands with the visitor. “Thank you again, Thaddeus. We couldn’t have asked for a smoother delivery.”

  Thaddeus Balburg inclines his head, voice polite but formal. “No thanks necessary, Lord Ronan. I only fulfilled your request.”

  My little brow furrows. Why does he call Dad “Lord”? As far as I know, we’re not nobility. I’ve been piecing things together over the past three weeks, and nothing suggests we’re part of any noble bloodline.

  And speaking of nobles—both of them have horns. I thought only males or nobles had them. But the countess has them too. And my father isn’t a noble… unless we’re fallen nobles? Exiled? Hiding?

  Ronan chuckles. “Oh, please—enough with the titles. But yes, I’m certain.” His tone turns serious. “And you know why.”

  The countess, Thaddeus wifeg gaze flicks to me.

  “Mira—take good care of Kian.”

  My mother nods, offering a small smile. The countess brushes a thumb across my cheek.

  My father turns, softly waves his hand and a portal appears.

  My eyes widen.

  A portal? I already knew this world had magic I’ve seen minor spells, such as light and floating items.

  But a portal? That’s high-tier magic. In every novel, manga, or anime I’ve read or watched, portals are rare, expensive, dangerous.

  And this one? No glow. No sound. No smell. It forms too fast to even see how. All I can see through it is a house two stories, built of dark brick, surrounded by a small garden.

  I watch in awe as my parents exchange final farewells with Count Thaddeus and his wife, Ophira, then step through. My father gives one last nod, and the portal snaps shut behind us.

  My father’s footsteps approach. He speaks in a gentle voice. “Well, Kian… here we are. This will be your home from now on.”

  His hand brushes my cheek, soft and warm. I look at the house. It’s big, but not overwhelming two stories, with a good-sized garden. The style blends modern comfort with old-world charm.

  The houses around us aren’t as large, but they’re built from the same brick, with similar designs.

  I coo, testing my voice. He smiles a genuine, hopeful curve of his lips.

  Before I can take in more, sleepiness pulls at me.

  I wonder: will I remember this when I wake? Will I still hold onto the memories of my past life? Or will they no longer exist the moment I close my eyes?

  I think it over as I try to surpass my sleepiness, but I lose the fight. Eyes heavy, I drift into sleep, still cradled in my mother’s arms.

  Chapter End