Stahlia, Eleventh Month of 936.

I woke up the next morning feeling well refreshed. I had some time to kill while waiting for my mother to come and let me out; while I probably could get out on my own, I didn’t want to risk the drop from the top of the crib bars to the floor if I didn’t have to. I went over the events of my first excursion beyond the walls of my home. I really wish my mother had just told me the truth from the very start; I would have been a lot more careful if I knew child markets were a threat. I needed some way to defend myself, but checking over my stats, they were of course all still at one. Well, all except for my intelligence. That was at one hundred and fifty for some reason.

Ideally, I would like to level up, but I have no idea how I could go about earning experience… Of course, finding and killing a monster would probably net me some experience, but that wasn’t an option for obvious reasons. While I was caught up in my thoughts, my mother came to collect me for the breakfast. Thankfully for my nerves, upon discovering my ability to speak and understand the surroundings my mother had opted to wean me as quickly as possible while still making sure I stayed healthy. I think knowing that I would very likely retain memories of feeding was an embarrassing prospect for her, so much the better for me.

Sitting at my highchair by the table my mother and father both ate in silence while Jacqueline attended to them. Stil, our pet Stawri was uncharacteristically eating inside today. The air around the table was tense as I spooned my mashed mystery food; I hadn’t bothered to ask what it was made of, the sooner I got my teeth the better. Although teething will mean I have to learn how to pronounce words again. Though it's concerning; I can’t be sure, but I am pretty sure my teeth should have come in by now. Putting aside questions about my abnormal development and directing my attention to my father who had just finished eating and cleared his throat, I set down my spoon.

“Stahlia, your mother informed me of what happened yesterday.” He seemed calm, but who knows, it could just be a noble’s false face.

“Yes, Father.” He raised an eyebrow, until now I had only called him “Papa”. But this was probably going to be a heavy conversation so I figured being as polite as possible would be to my benefit.

He cleared his throat, “It seems that you have taken her warnings to heart now. I feel I do not have to inform you again but strive to carve this into your heart; If Sven had had a mind to, your Mother and I would likely have never seen you again. I do not want that for any of us, you included.”

I nodded solemnly, causing him to continue, “Since you seem to be very well aware of the seriousness of the situation after you turn one I believe you should be able to begin accompanying your mother on errands. Until then you will remain in the house.”

He scratched his cheek awkwardly, “I never would have thought that I would need to have this kind of conversation with my daughter before she was even a year old…” Since that last part didn’t seem to be directed at anyone in particular I chose to ignore it and merely stated “I understand”. That was how I experienced being grounded before most children can even speak properly.

★★★★★★

As it turned out, I was actually fairly close to turning one. A few days after the verdict was passed down and the grim air around my parents had faded, I had asked my mother when I would be turning one and, for good measure what “turning one” meant as I couldn’t remember ever having the concept of age explained to me in this life. My mother seemed incredibly pleased that I was engaging again instead of laying listlessly in bed and launched into a long-winded explanation. Seriously woman, thirty words or less!

As it turns out, this world used a very similar calendar to that of Earth. There were twelve months in each year, and every twelve months on the anniversary of a person’s birth they would increase their age by one. At some point, it had simply been accepted that I understood numbers and had figured out basic counting, so she thankfully did not add an explanation of addition into her explanation.

Where this world’s calendar differed from that of Earth was in the number of days. Each month apparently had thirty days, as opposed to Earth’s alternating thirty and thirty-one. This meant that there was a total of three hundred and sixty days in a year not three hundred sixty-five. She also gave me a little bit of religious background; the number of months was directly tied to the number of primary deities; at present, there were twelve gods and goddesses each of whom governed over a month. It was entirely possible that the number of deities could change. In the past, there was apparently a thirteenth god, but he had fallen in love with a mortal woman and rejected his divinity to be with her.

Before that god became mortal there had been thirteen months each thirty days long meaning a year lasted for three hundred ninety days. I asked about the seasons and how they fit with the months, to quote my mother: “The current twelve gods are split into four factions that are constantly fighting against each other. The seasons change according to the tides of this struggle, that’s why winter sometimes comes early and why spring is occasionally late.”

There was also apparently a goddess who reigned over the light and her brother who governed the night; they existed above the main twelve and ensured that no alliance would stay in power for too long lest the mortal races suffer ill. Personally, I suspected that the “power struggle” was just a way for the church to explain away the calendar error that would result from an improper understanding of orbital periods but having no way to explain that, I held my peace.

In any case, I had been born in the twelfth month, under the care of Antenora, who was also known as the Winter Herald or the Frost’s Vanguard. That name was actually a bit disturbing giving my family history. Being the RPG lover that I was, I had collected a lot of incidental trivia from all the games I played. A lot of RPGs borrowed things from mythology as a source of inspiration. Antenora was the demon in charge of the second quarter of the ninth circle of hell in Judeo-Christian mythology. Collectively, the ninth circle was known as “The hell of Traitors” and Antenora was the demon in charge of the section dedicated to those who betrayed their country. Considering my family history, I found this highly concerning.

I asked my mother what Antenora was the goddess of. This caused her smile to falter a little. After a long pause, she finally told me that Antenora was the goddess of traitors and plotting. My worry must have shown on my face because she hurriedly went on to assure me that, “The god or goddess who overlooked your birth has no bearing on your fate, the church is very clear on that issue.”

I supposed that made sense, if you had a goddess of traitors in your pantheon who influenced the fates of one-twelfth of the population then that wouldn’t bode very well for society. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding about the actions of my uncle and the timing of my birth.

All of that aside, there was not much I could do for myself at the moment; my stats were too low for me to accomplish anything about my lack of self-defense so I was still forced to rely on others. Likewise, I didn’t want to risk sneaking out to search our town when I was now fully informed of the kind of danger I might be in. It would suck if I failed the tutorial section… I tried asking my mother to teach me to read, but she didn’t seem very fond of the idea, “Stahlia, you will be attending a class with the other children after your dedication, it would not do for you to stand out much more than you already will.”

With nothing better to do until the end of my house arrest, I decided I would simply amuse myself by playing with our bird-dog Stil. Stil spent most of the day out in the town wandering about to patrol his territory, so I would only see him in the evenings when my father or Jacqueline gave him a chunk of meat, and occasionally when he would eat breakfast inside the dining area with us. It was one such morning after breakfast when I waited for my father to go out for his morning mayoral duties and my mother was helping Jacqueline tidy the kitchen that I tried approaching him.

Stil looked up and watched me warily; this was the first time either of us had tried interacting with the other. While I was sure he knew I was a member of the household, he probably didn’t know how to feel about me. Even back on earth, dogs could become confused about the birth of a new baby. Still, it had been eleven months; he should have some opinion of me. Tentatively, I reached out my hand towards him. He inspected my hand before looking away and returning to his bowl. I cautiously moved closer and reached out to touch his side; being the size of a Labrador retriever, Stil stood head and shoulders above my own infant body.

I carefully and gently ran my hand across his feathered side. I could feel steady breathing alongside a shudder whenever he swallowed a portion of his food. Perfect, he doesn’t seem to be wary of me. Still a bit cautious, I moved a bit closer to his head and watched his beak snap at breakfast. He is just like a dog, isn’t he? Stil finished his breakfast and stood up causing me to have to make a small hop backward to avoid being knocked over. He’s treating me like an annoying puppy bothering an adult dog! Indignant, I watched him walk off towards the door with my hands on my hips. My mother was watching from the kitchen doorframe, “He seems to like you Stahlia.”

If he likes me he would be less indifferent mother, I think he was simply tolerating me. Pretty sure he started eating faster after I started petting him too… Apparently I was mistaken, as my mother continued.

“Stawri usually do not let people touch their feathers very often, as it is very difficult for them to clean them, Stil would not have gotten violent since he has been properly trained, but the normal reaction would have been for him to have gotten up and left immediately after you started to pet him. Instead, he calmly finished eating first.”

Hmmm? Difficult to clean? Intrigued by my mother’s words, I watched Stil out in the garden. He was presently rubbing the side I had been petting firmly against a part of the fence. Looking closely, that particular fence post seemed to be a good deal shinier than the others. He probably uses that to brush himself… I see, having a beak would make precision work very difficult, and having bird talons instead of regular dog paws would mean he can’t scratch at dirt either. I was starting to formulate a plan as I watched Stil finish grooming and head out into the village on patrol.

That night after dinner I approached my father, “Father, I have a request.”

Looking down at me he sighed, “I am sorry Stahlia, I will not relent, you cannot accompany your mother on errands until after you turn one as we discussed.”

I shook my head side-to-side, making sure that my baby curls jiggled cutely; With my charisma score being only one I needed all the bonuses to persuasion I could get, “No father, I understand that. I was actually wanting to ask if you would allow me to give Stil his meat tonight?” My father looked surprised but gave his permission, handing me a chunk of some kind of fowl. This doesn’t count as cannibalism, does it?

Approaching Stil, who was laying out near the hearth to warm his feathers, I held out my hand with the bird in it. He looked up and tilted his head when he saw me instead of my father. I pushed my hand under his nose, and he sniffed at the offering before darting his beak out and snatching it. He placed the meat under his front talons and busied himself tearing at it, so I sat down next to him and waited patiently.

When he was finished, he rested his head onto his paws and stared into the flames. Slowly, I reached out towards his head. Seeing as he was unmoving, I carefully pet the small feathers that covered his head. Waiting to see if he would leave like my mother had mentioned this morning, I slowly add a bit more pressure. When Stil remained unmoving, I arched my fingers, lightly digging the tips into his feathers and running down the length of his head before moving my hand back to the front and repeating the motion. My mother saw what I was doing and quickly came over, “Stahlia, what did I tell you this morning? Stop bothering Stil.” She bent over and grabbed at my hands.

Stil looked up at my mother and tilted his head; his intent was fairly clear, “why are you stopping”. I laughed and pulled my hands away from my mother, “Momma I thought he must be itchy when I saw him rubbing on the fence this morning, See? He likes it when you scratch his head!”

I returned my hand to its previous activity and added my other hand to the back of his neck while my mother watched us in disbelief. After a few minutes, Stil began emitting a rumbling noise. Aww, he’s purring! I guess he has some cat in him too… Part bird, part dog, and part cat! Aren’t you just the perfect pet! After that, it became a part of our routine that Stil would sit obstinately by the door every morning waiting for me to give him scratches before he set off on his daily patrol.

★★★★★★

Birthdays in this world didn’t really seem to be a thing. Rather than celebrating every year, it was custom to celebrate certain milestones. Namely, the fact that a baby survived its first year, a toddler’s dedication at the temple when they turned three, the onset of adolescence at ten years, and then the age of adulthood at fifteen. The first did not really have much to do with the child in question; most one-year-old children could hardly speak and wouldn’t really understand the significance of the event. Rather, the one-year ceremony was more of a celebration for the parents and any potential older siblings.

Our family was a little bit of a special case, but my parents were not planning to alter the usual traditions overmuch. Still, the house was a hubbub of activity as this was a ceremony largely for the parents, family friends would drop by to see the child and deliver a small gift for the family. Usually, these gifts took the form of something from the giver’s trade. Farmers would give a small portion of something they had grown, a hunter would give a section of jerky or fur, that sort of things. Since my father was the mayor of this town, we could expect quite a few people.

The number of well-wishers we were expecting was causing my mother a great deal of worry; she was of course concerned I would do something to get myself found out, “Stahlia, you have to make sure that you do not do anything that a regular child would not be able to.”

This was the fifth time I had heard some variant of this warning in the past hour. “I athure you mother, I will do my bethst.” She frowned at me and shook her head tiredly.

“Stahlia, normal yearlings do not speak that well.” Apparently, she thought I was trying to imitate baby speak. It’s not an act mother… I had finally started teething, and it was massively degrading my pronunciation.

My mother was holding small strips of cloth up to my head and comparing them with my hair color so she could fashion a bow for me; I was in the process of being prepared for the visitors as they would want to see me. My plan was to just sit quietly so as to avoid causing a scene since I was not sure I would be able to mimic “proper” crawling to move around like someone would expect a baby to. Satisfied with her selection, my mother tied a crimson bow to my head and carried me downstairs. That was the first color you tried out… I was already getting tired.

When we got out into the reception room, my mother put me in a basket. Apparently, she had similar fears to my own regarding my posture. My father was out in the yard talking with one of the higher status villagers and Jacqueline was busying herself with offering people water. My mother gave me one last concerned look before moving slightly away to mingle with some of the women.

Stil came over and laid down next to my basket. Sorry, Stil! I can’t really play with you right now, that would definitely arouse suspicion! I settled in for what was sure to be a long day and watched the people coming and going from our house. I was able to categorize the well-wishers into three broad categories; The first group consisted of people who seemed to hold little interest in me personally. This group was likely only here to show support for their mayor.

The second group was likely those my parents had formed more personal friendships with. My mother would bring these ones over and introduce me to them, an act that elicited some strange looks. Seriously mother, you’re causing more suspicion than I am right now! Who would introduce someone to a baby by name? Still, I did my best to memorize their faces to their names in case I needed to know who was later on. It was a largely fruitless endeavor since I couldn’t be too obvious about how I was staring at them to learn their faces.

The third group consisted of mothers of children similar to my own age. They would come by with their children to see me. The younger ones would be introduced to me by their mothers, unlike my own mother’s introductions, these were not formal “So and so this is my daughter Stahlia, Stahlia this is so and so” introductions. Rather, the mothers were more cooing about how cute I was and telling me about how they looked forward to me and their child being friends. Frankly, I wanted to shout at them not to talk to me in such a condescending tone, but I knew how that would turn out, so I struggled to contain my mounting rage.

As I watched the parade of mothers and their young children, I couldn’t help but notice how young many of the mothers were. Of course, some of them were around my mother’s age in appearance and some were older, but most of them seemed to be somewhere in their late teens. The absolute youngest of them looked to be no older than sixteen. I found out earlier that the age of adulthood in this country is fifteen, but isn’t that still a little young to be having kids? I certainly had no intentions to have any kids, or even really to get married. My younger future younger siblings could deal with the line of succession my father seemed so worried about, my own circumstances regarding romance were too complicated to worry about; over the past couple of months, I had finally arrived at the conclusion that the best thing I could do in my situation was to try not to think about it too much.

It was the exceptionally young mother’s turn to push her infant in my face and coo about how much she looked forward to watching me grow up. I observed her with clinical impassivity as she leaned over my basket with a smile on her face. She was a slim woman with naturally curly sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She smiled at me, and I responded with an appropriate happy giggle, “And you must be Stahlia! Aren’t you just the cutest thing!”

…yea, can you just finish up and move along? Seriously I just want this parade to be over… Outwardly I smiled stupidly.

“Oh, I just know you’re going to be such good friends with my Giogi!” She turned her arms over slightly to put a pudgy little thing in my face. He had his mother’s eyes, but his hair was a shocking shade of red. The infant I could only assume was named Giogi was clutching a rattle and smiled back at me. He was probably about my age, so, one. “Ha Stahia!”

Oh good, it can talk… I didn’t want to risk betraying my own advanced speech with a poor imitation of a baby voice, even with my currently burning gums helping me out by enforcing mispronunciation so I opted to remain silent. Apparently, Giogi didn’t like that choice. “Whood!” He frowned at me. I continued to meet his gaze without blinking. I might not be able to speak but I’m not about to lose a staring contest with a little shit like y- OUCH! The little shit had decided he didn’t like being stared at and opted to throw his rattle at me!

I see… so you have chosen death… I opened my mouth and released a shrill scream. His mother looked petrified. Serves you right! This is why kids shouldn’t be allowed to have kids! my mother responded to my outcries and rushed over. Scooping me up, she started rocking me and cooing, “What is wrong Stahlia darling?”

I stopped screaming and glared at Giogi, since there was too much attention on us now due to my screams, I couldn’t risk telling my mother what had happened. My mother followed my gaze to Giogi and his mother.

Giogi’s mother stood up straight and bowed towards my mother, “I am terribly sorry Lady Rosalie, my son struck miss Stahlia with his toy.”

My mother absorbed the statement and checked my head and face over for any injuries, “Well, it seems she is unharmed so do not worry about it too much, Crystil. Giogi is still just a baby…” She punctuated the “just a baby” part by squeezing me tightly in such a way that nobody else in the room would notice. “…just make sure you teach him properly once he is old enough to understand alright?”

I continued glaring at Giogi. My mother may have betrayed me but just watch out, I have taken your actions as a declaration of war!

Crystil bowed and apologized again before then rushing out of the house scolding Giogi as she went. My mother opted to carry me with her for a while, so I was brought around and displayed to several other people before the “party” started to wind down. The village got dark quickly this time of year and people still had to head home and tend to their own, so we wrapped up a little before we would usually have dinner. As the last guests left my mother put me in my highchair, apparently, I was to wait here until dinner.

“Stahlia. First, let me say I was very pleased that you did not forget yourself and speak out or do anything else to draw attention.” My mother was smiling at me, but her eyes were decidedly cold.

I wasn’t stupid, in fact, intelligence was currently my one redeeming feature, “Mother, how have I upset you?” Her smile vanished instantly leaving her face blank.

“So, you noticed you did something wrong, but cannot figure out what it was?” I gulped and nodded.

“Stahlia, everyone living in this house knows how special you are, but you do not seem to realize exactly how different you are from normal children.” Her voice was stern, the last time I heard this tone, I wound up getting grounded. This is confusing, I definitely know how special I am compared to other children. What is my mother talking about? I decided to remain silent in hopes she would explain further, if I said the wrong thing now there was no telling how she might react, “Giogi is just a regular baby boy. Normal babies act out from time to time.”

“Mother, are you saying I should have just ignored him when he hit me? I thought that the correct response would have been to scream or start crying.”

My mother sighed and rubbed a hand against her temples, “No Stahlia. Your response was perfect in that regard. I am talking about what I saw in your eyes.”

I was even more confused now, I had no idea what she meant. Apparently, I had reacted perfectly but still messed up, “In my eyes…?”

“Yes Stahlia, I saw pure hatred reflected in your eyes. Giogi was only acting his age but you took it personally. I had thought you were very intelligent and mature, but that was not the proper response to have towards a child.”

Ah… I guess she’s right, It sounds even worse when you consider that my mental age is around twenty-three. I might hate children, but yea I guess declaring war on an infant is a bit much. Alright Giogi, you’ve earned a stay of execution for the time being. Use your newfound second chance at life to do some self-reflection. I lowered my head towards my mother, “You are right mother, I need to correct my perspectives.”

“As long as you understand.” She reached out and pat me, her usual loving smile had returned to her face.

After the family dinner, I was brought up to my crib and laid down, “Goodnight, Stahlia.”

“Goodnight, Momma.” Of course, I had no intention of going to sleep, not yet anyway. I had some things to check out first. Divine Authority, Menu!

Life Summary Screen:

Life Point Balance: 11

Name/Age: Stahlia, 1

Gender: Female

Class/Level: Custom Class, 1 Experience: 0/1000

Species: Human (Pureblood)

Social Strata: Fallen Noble House (Despita, Drakas Kingdom)

Starting Gift: Small Seed [locked*]

Ability Values:

• Strength C: 5 (50)
• Endurance B: 7 (70)
• Dexterity A: 10 (100)
• Intelligence S: 150 (150)
• Charisma B: 7 (70)
• Mana B: 7 (70)

Talents 1/1: [Browse Talents] Prodigy 1*

Skills 1/1: [Browse Skills] Divine Authority[Class Features]*, Language Proficiency[Central Human]*

Talents Experience:

Prodigy 10/1000

YES! My stats went up! My new status values seemed to be roughly ten percent of their, presumably, max values. Based on this info, I can reasonably assume that my current stats are reduced based on my age... looks like one year old is ten percent of the number in parenthesis. Presumably, that's my maximum at level one. Now that I have some numbers to work with, I can try some things out. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to imagine a gentle wind. In these settings, magic was often controlled via a mental picture. Indeed, now that I had more than one mana point, I was trying to figure out how to employ my mana. If I could learn magic, I would be able to defend myself a bit if any of those black-market people caught wind of me.

What I was currently trying, was a method that was fairly common in a fantasy setting; you would imagine an effect while focusing on your inner self in order to produce the effect through expending mana. I was focusing and imagining a gentle wind blowing on my face. Unfortunately, it was not having any effect. Well, it would have been too much to hope for it to work on the first try. Let’s think about it a little. There’re two possibilities. A. I don’t have enough mana to make this work yet, if that’s the case then there isn’t anything I can do. I would either have to level up, which I obviously can’t do or I would have to wait another year and try again. Let’s hope it’s option B…

Option B was pretty simple, namely, I was wrong about how magic worked. I started trying out a variety of things; I chanted the names that might have been spells in my head. Airburst! Windblast! Ember! Spark! Crackle! Pebble Shot! Combustion! Light Orb! Waterball! Ignition! Aerio! but no matter what names I came up with, I couldn’t produce any effect. Next, I turned to whisper the names aloud. Some settings I could remember required you to say the name of a spell since silent chanting would have made battle scenes less interesting. This was particularly a thing in certain JRPGs. Even though I risked alerting my parents to my endeavors, I still saw no success.

Don’t tell me this is a setting where you need a special attribute to use magic? As soon as I had that thought I felt the blood drain from my face. In my excitement, I had forgotten; when I was browsing classes, all of the caster types had Talents like “Fire Magic 1” or “Lightning Magic 1”. Don’t tell me I have to somehow acquire a talent to be able to use magic! That would mean the only way my plan will work is by leveling up to get more talent slots, not to mention LP… I have eleven now, but I still have no idea what I did to get them!

I sank back into my pillow as despair filled my heart. Of all the possibilities this one seemed the most likely. I suppose this means I just have to figure out a way to somehow get experience and level up. Nothing I can do about that now, I’ll have to work on it in the morning. I emptied my mind and closed my eyes before drifting off into sleep.

I sat up with a jolt. Just as I was falling asleep, I had felt something crawling. I quickly patted myself down looking for any bugs. Not finding anything on my body, I checked around the bedding. Satisfied that there was nothing in bed with me, I lay back down. I wonder what that was? Maybe it was a moth or a fly As I again dropped off to sleep, I felt the crawling again. This time, instead of jumping up I cautiously tracked the crawling sensation as it wandered around my body. When I feel it get back to my chest I’ll smack whatever it is and hopefully kill it. The crawling traced a path back to my chest as I thought that, and I immediately swung my arm in and smacked myself.

Indeed, I only managed to hit myself, and it hurt. As soon as I had thought about swinging my arm, the crawling sensation ran its way across my shoulder and spread out through the arm I had planned to move. I could feel the part of my chest I had smacked stinging. It felt like I had been paddled. I suddenly hit upon a striking theory. Trying very hard to contain my excitement, I whispered “Divine Authority, Menu” to myself. As soon as I read the section of the menu, I was interested I couldn’t help but smile dumbly.

I could use my mana without one of those talents, I just couldn’t produce a spell with them. What I had just done was a physical enhancement technique that used mana. I had probably enhanced my speed by sending mana into my arm, causing my arm to move really fast, like a fly swatter.

Ability Values:

• Strength C: 5 (50)
• Endurance B: 7 (70)
• Dexterity A: 10 (100)
• Intelligence S: 150 (150)
• Charisma B: 7 (70)
• Mana B: 0/7 (70)

Based on what I was seeing, I could assume that that crawling sensation was my mana. I hadn’t been able to feel it until I had entered the right mental state, namely the calm just before sleep. That’s not going to be easy to do if I’m being kidnapped… Still, at least I confirmed I can use magic. I’ll have to experiment. Feeling especially giddy I finally went to sleep.

The next morning when I woke up and checked my status again and saw that my mana had fully recovered. I quickly got to experimenting. Over the next week, I was able to figure out basically all the basic details about my enhancement magic, but the actual specifics were still vague. Still, I was sure I would figure them out with time.

I could enhance my entire body evenly or focus on only a specific limb. The attribute that got enhanced would be determined by my intentions. When I had thought about trying to kill whatever was crawling on me, I wound up enhancing my dexterity since that would allow my arm to move faster. The strength of the enhancement would depend on how much of my body I was enhancing at once as well as how much mana I was using. When I had enhanced my arm, I had instinctively pushed all my mana into it at once, this gave me a single instant of incredible speed for that arm but resulted in me instantly burning through all my mana.

Tangentially, I made an additional discovery related to Attribute Values. Rather than being a single monolith, each attribute seemed to be a sum of its parts. When I enhanced my physical strength in only one arm, it was the same numerical change as when I used the same amount of mana to enhance my whole body. That means that the actual number for my strength probably refers to the strength of all of my muscles added together. Unfortunately, I only had enough mana to keep up a really weak enhancement for a few seconds at most, so I was pretty much only a single step past the starting line. Still, I am only one year old. I have two more years to figure out how to deal with everyone learning about my custom class.