Awakening in The World of Gods

[AFTER A FEW DAYS]

Poll lay in his crib, deep in thought.

If I'm right, today's my birthday. One whole year in this new world. He sighed internally. For normal humans, mana circuits activate between ages 7 and 14. But nope, not for me. I've got at least another 8 years of this baby grind before anything cool happens.

He glanced toward a shelf stacked with books. Books aren't really my thing, but what else can I do? Time to hit the baby basics of mana studies, I guess. Gotta act like a normal kid too. Here they come…

The soft morning light painted the world in a golden glow, sneaking through the thin curtains and onto Poll's face. His tiny hands brushed against the warm, familiar blanket that smelled faintly of lavender. A gentle rustle made him turn his head, his eyes blinking lazily as the warmth of the world wrapped around him.

He felt her presence before she spoke—soft footsteps, steady and comforting. Then came the scent he always knew: a hint of wildflowers and something uniquely hers. Her touch followed, warm fingers brushing the curls from his forehead. It tickled just enough to make him giggle.

"Good morning, my little star," her voice drifted to him, soft as the hum of a lullaby. Her words weren't something he understood, not yet, but the sound was enough. He reached out instinctively, his chubby hand wrapping around her finger. It was warmth, safety, home.

Her hair brushed against his cheek as she leaned close, the light tickle matching the soft press of her lips to his forehead. It made him feel snug, cherished. Somewhere in his baby heart, he understood: this was love, wrapped in the voice and touch of the person who meant the world.

Her whispered words lingered in the air as she pulled away, her smile glowing brighter than the sunbeam he'd seen. And as she gazed at him, Poll felt it again—that deep, unspoken bond that made the world feel perfect.

She leaned in, pressing a tender kiss on his forehead. "Happy birthday, Poll. I love you."

Poll felt a mix of emotions. Wow, this is nice. I've got a family now. Even if I'm technically an adult inside, I can get behind this. Being loved like this… I could get used to it.

[Later That Day: Royal Ball]

I thought we'd celebrate quietly at home, but nope. Turns out today's also the second prince's birthday, so we're at the royal palace. King's orders.

Poll glanced around the grand ballroom. Chandeliers hung like upside-down forests of stars, and noble guests glided across the polished floor in clothes that screamed, I'm worth more than your house.

His parents were mingling, exchanging polite words with other high-ranking nobles. Meanwhile, Poll was busy playing the role of the world's cutest accessory.

Except for one thing.

Why does everyone think it's okay to poke my cheeks?! He scowled internally as yet another stranger approached, their fingers reaching out to squish his face like he was some kind of interactive art exhibit.

That's when she appeared.

A young woman with platinum hair and sharp, mischievous eyes sauntered toward him, her every step exuding confidence. The elegant dress she wore shimmered like liquid moonlight, but it was her sly smirk that had Poll's attention locked. She knelt down to his eye level, her gaze playful yet dripping with a dangerous allure.

"Hey, little guy," she purred, her voice sweet as honey but laced with mischief. "Are you excited about life? Grow up fast, okay? Then we can do all sorts of naughty things together."

Poll's baby brain sputtered like a broken engine. Wait, what?! Did she just—? His chubby face flushed beet red, the shock momentarily freezing him in place. Naughty things? Oh no, this was too much stimulation for a one-year-old to handle. Somewhere deep in his overly precocious mind, an unholy thought formed: Lady, I don't know who you are, but I'll grow up fast, just you wait.

Trying to shake off his embarrassment, he glanced at her again, her smirk deepening as if she could read the tiny, inappropriate thoughts swirling in his head. As you wish, my lady... he thought dramatically, a baby-sized determination glinting in his wide eyes.

Eryndor, chimed in smoothly. "Your Highness, perhaps it's not wise to plant such ideas in a child so impressionable. Who knows? He might take your words seriously one day."

Wait, hold up. Did he just…?

"I am proud of your father"

The woman—Princess Seraphine, as Poll quickly realized—laughed lightly, her smirk never fading. "Oh, Captain Nightvale, do you really think a simple comment from me could shape a young mind so easily?" She gave Poll a playful wink. "But you're right. He might surprise us."

What kind of royal banter is this?! Poll thought, desperately pretending not to understand.

Princess Seraphine straightened, her demeanor effortlessly transitioning from playful to regal. She glanced toward Seraphina with a warm smile. "Lady Nightvale, it's always a pleasure to see you. You look as radiant as ever."

Seraphina bowed gracefully. "Your Highness, you flatter me. It's an honor to be here on such an occasion."

"Please," Seraphine waved her hand dismissively. "No need for formalities between us. After all, we're practically family." She glanced back at Poll, her eyes twinkling. "And this little one? He'll grow up surrounded by strength and wisdom. I'm sure he'll carry a spark of my spirit, too."

Poll sighed internally. wow, too much acting

As the evening went on, laughter and music filled the hall. Then, the massive double doors swung open, and the room fell silent.

The king's assistant stepped forward, his voice booming. "Lords and ladies, it is my great honor to present His Majesty, King Varyndor Aelthor!"

Poll's tiny eyes widened as the towering figure of the king entered. His regal robes glimmered under the golden light, and every step he took exuded power and authority.

Okay, now that's a guy you don't mess with.

Applause echoed through the hall as King Varyndor nodded graciously, his presence commanding the attention of all.

Poll was soon guided to a special seat, one just for him. He barely noticed, though. His eyelids were heavy.

Big day… Big room… he thought, fighting sleep. Time to…zzzz…

And just like that, the birthday boy was out cold, snuggled peacefully amidst the grandeur of the royal ball.