The cry of a newborn resounded in the mansion of Lord Fairman and servants scurried. Children were rarely born in winter. Not many had the luxury of providing for an infant in the harsh months of winter but Lord Fairman was one of the few that could.

To the newly born Eliza, though, such struggles were of no matter.

She lay upon the hands of a pink humanoid that had no shortage of perspiration on her forehead. It was easy to see that it was the more feminine of the species. Her expressions and emotions were stronger and less controlled.

It was worry.

How did she know it?

Eliza furrowed her tiny brows and put a scowl on her face, glaring at all that stood before her. Her consciousness wasn’t on them. The tiny creatures that stood before her were insignificant things that weren’t even worthy of gazing at her, but in the very next moment, Eliza realized that she was smaller than them.

Why did she think that?

“Is it a boy?” roared a man from beyond the door and kicked the door down, sending the servants in the room spiraling into a tempest of emotions that made Eliza’s head ache. The most predominant ones were worry and fear.

The servants remained silent as a man with a clean-cut beard and haircut walked into the room, analyzing every inch before his eyes finally fell on his mate. He knelt on one knee and held her hand, staring deep into her eyes.

The man’s hide was tough but within, Eliza could feel worry that would put even the sum of all the servants’ to shame.

How did she know they were servants?

“My liege,” said the handmaiden holding Eliza as the others moved away, their heads down and eyes downcast. She raised Eliza slightly and slowly whispered, “It’s a girl.”

“It’s… a girl,” said the man and huffed once. As if he lost all will to breathe, he stared at Eliza from below, his eyes full of worry but his mind was full of disappointment.

Disappointment.

“It’s fine. She isn’t stillborn, at least,” said Eliza’s mother in-between gasps for breath, clutching Lord Fairman’s hands as tightly as possible.

“But the prophet. He’s never wrong,” said Lord Fairman and a stray tear made its way down his face. It made him close his eyes and wipe away the tear. He bit his lips and closed his eyes for a minute.

This was the emotion of distress.

“How?” thought Eliza, this thought different from the others. It was aimed at the world, as if she was inquiring it about something —as if she expected an answer.

Then came a half-transparent blue screen in her view, sprouting from a single spot in space, expanding until it reached its full size. The text appeared from left to right, as if a layer of paint was peeled sideways.

 

 

Eliza nodded.

Empathy… that made sense.

Or did it?

“Who am I?” she asked.

Many aimed this question at themselves and did so when thinking of philosophy but Eliza meant the question literally. She didn’t know who she was but she knew that she could think, which should be unnatural.

Another screen appeared, this one filled with far more important information.

 

 

This was the first time that Eliza was looking at what she recognized as a “Status Screen”, but for some reason, she knew everything that it referred to by heart. The language written on the screen wasn’t writing that she recognized. Rather, it was a series of symbols that her mind could associate with concepts that she knew.

Strength was for how hard she could hit something and how heavy an object she could lift. Agility was how fast she moved and as a result, perceived objects moving at high velocities. Dexterity was the ease with which she could move and how flexible her body was. Durability was how durable her body was and how much punishment she could take. Mana was the source of Magic and used to cast Spells. Willpower was how strong her soul was.

Having infinite Willpower surely meant she was special, didn't it?

Her common sense said it was and no matter how much she wanted to doubt that, trusting her gut had never failed her even if she’d only been alive for a handful of minutes.

Having a 1 in other attributes meant that it was the minimum possible for a sapient creature, that is to say, the amount exerted by a newborn human.

Eliza was a newborn human.

“Is she alright?” asked Lord Fairman after he finally grabbed a hold of her, his calloused palm rubbing uncomfortably against her cheeks.

How dare such an insignificant insect touch her?

The thought was promptly dismissed and Eliza decided to glare daggers into the man instead, which he didn’t seem to be fazed by.

“The girl hasn’t cried once,” said one of the handmaidens and averted her gaze once Lord Fairman’s homed in on her, “I-it’s a bad sign for a child to come out of the womb without crying.”

“And why is that?” sternly asked Lord Fairman.

“Because it means that she’s been abandoned by the Gods,” mumbled another one of the handmaidens —there were a total of five of them in the room.

“Ha!” chortled Lord Fairman and raised Eliza with both hands. He held her up for a few seconds before he tossed her up into the air and just before he touched the ground, he gently caught her with both hands. With a smirk, he then declared, “Abandoned by the Gods, you say? Then it’s their loss! Did you see that? She’s a born warrior. Didn’t even bat an eye at that.”

Was this man a psychopath?

“I shall name you… Brave!” he shouted.

Eliza turned to her mother and willed her best to say her name, only to fail.

It seemed that she couldn’t do that.

“What can I do?” she asked, the question once again directed at the world. In turn, the world responded with yet another screen.

 

 

There were four Skills and all of them were at 1%, making it safe to assume that the lowest possible percentage was 1%. To be null or 0% would mean that she didn’t know them at all, meaning there was no need to list that.

She knew that naturally as if it was something she should know.

There was a wealth of knowledge but she didn’t remember anything.

How did she know of all this?

 

 

There were two different Origins to her Skills: Red and Blue.

She didn’t understand what they meant nor the Rarity metric that was at the top. It was obvious Common was the least rare whereas Rare was rarer than that. The Exotic Skills seemed to be far more effective than the Rare Skills so it was safe to assume that Exotic was rarer.

After learning of Appraisal, she used the Skill on her father.

He seemed to be the one with the most power in the room with how he lorded over everyone.

 

 

Tristan Fairman was his name and his title was Baron.

It meant that he was nobility even if he was of the lowest level. It seemed that any language she read or heard would be translated to a meaning that she understood, and in her understanding, Baron was of the lowest level that she knew.

How she knew it, Eliza had no idea.

“Hmm?” hummed Tristan and raised an eyebrow. He looked around the room with attentive eyes and asked, “Who dares to appraise me?”

The handmaiden stepped back slightly.

It was improper to appraise others without permission, it seemed. More importantly, it was possible to know when someone appraised you.

“No one would dare to, darling,” said Eliza’s mother softly and gestured for him to come closer, forcing him to place Eliza back on her lap.

Eliza looked at her mother and used Appraisal on her as well.

 

 

After she finished looking through her Status Screen and dismissed it, Eliza found Evelyn staring at her with wide eyes.

“The baby-” she started and stopped mid-sentence as if pausing to think for a second. After a few seconds, a smile formed on her lips and she turned to Tristan, “It was me. I had to get your attention.”

It seemed she could also tell when she was being appraised.

Tristan nodded solemnly and stared into Eliza’s eyes, his eyebrows furrowed. It seemed like he was inspecting something.

That’s when Eliza felt it.

It was an intrusive sensation akin to having her cheek poked.

So that’s how they knew.

“It says her name is Eliza,” said Tristan.

“You thought I’d trust you with my firstborn’s name?” asked Evelyn and softly giggled, “That’s a bit too naïve, don’t you think?”

“But I won the bet,” he hissed, lips pursed.

“Should’ve signed a Contract,” she said with a confident smirk that looked almost adorable on her face, even if she tried to come off as evil.

Tristan had sharp features and had reddish-orange hair and beard. His eyes were a dark brown that bordered on black. Evelyn, on the other hand, had pale blond hair and blue eyes, giving off an almost phantasmal feel. All of her features were soft and round.

That gave Eliza the idea of looking at herself in the mirror-

What was a mirror?

Before her thought process could complete, her eyelids grew heavier and she closed her eyes. With that, Eliza slept for the first time in her life.

Random Worldbuilding Fact 1: The System was added by Brother Wisdom, the Great God of Knowledge.