This is terrible.
It’s been a couple of months since the Crown Prince’s birthday, and ever since I discovered my abnormal status, all I’ve been telling myself is: This is not real; it has to be a joke.
Spoiler alert: It’s not a joke.
I’ve checked my status more times than I’d like to admit, and every time, half of my stats are basically marked as "Error" or "Undefined." Yeah, thanks for that, system. Super helpful. I guess this means I’m the proud owner of a glitched status screen. So, I’ve got half the numbers, but no clue if they’re low, high, or just straight-up imaginary. Great.
Why me?
I want to cry. I was kind of hoping for some cool stats that’d let me control the elements, you know? Maybe throw fireballs or summon a mini tsunami, but nope, I get "Undefined." Is it undefined because it’s just too OP for the system to handle? Or is it so pathetically low that the world decided to spare my feelings?
God dammit, I thought. I just wanted to be a Wielder, not a walking glitch.
But nope. The system looked at me and said, "You’re going to be a Goddess". Well, okay, technically a Goddess of Creation. So... not a Wielder with a cool affinity for elements, but someone who can literally bend the world to her will. No big deal, right?
Just what every one-year-old dream of. Being a deity with unlimited responsibilities.
I look at my status screen again, just to torture myself. There's my title: [Goddess of Creation] … which would be cool if it didn’t come with all this baggage. I mean, it's not like I’m running a business here. I was just trying to live my best baby life!
Anyway, after some deep soul-searching (and by that, I mean ten seconds of staring at the ceiling), I’ve come up with three options for my future:
1. Almighty Solara goes rogue. I abuse my god powers, take over the world, and become an evil overlord for the fun of it.
2. Great Goddess Solara becomes the world’s savior. I use my god powers to make the world a better place—end wars, fix the economy, cure diseases—basically take on a never-ending to-do list.
3. Little Soli does nothing. I close my eyes, pretend I’m not a goddess, and live a carefree life like a regular human.
Guess which one I chose?
That’s right. Number 3. Because, let’s be real, who has the time or energy to save or destroy the world? Not me. I’m busy trying to master the art of crawling without face-planting every five minutes.
Though I’d be lying if I said Option 1 didn’t sound like fun. Who hasn’t daydreamed about being the bad guy at least once? You can do whatever you want, no one can stop you, and there’s zero guilt involved. But alas, my conscience is still alive and kicking, so I guess mass destruction is off the table for now.
As for Option 2? Hah! Not in this lifetime. The hero gig is for suckers. The world’s savior? Nah, pass. I’d rather not deal with the stress of saving people and living up to their expectations. Call me selfish, but I didn’t sign up for this "goddess of hope" nonsense.
And so, I continue pretending that I’m just a normal baby, living my best half-elf, half-human life. Which would be great if it weren’t for the fact that I’m clearly not normal.
First issue: my lineage. Mother’s done a pretty good job of hiding the whole half-elf thing, but I’m not blind. My existence is going to become a problem sooner or later. Arvion can stay with the humans, and Mother could return to the elves, but me? I’m stuck in the middle—half this, half that, and neither side is going to accept me.
Second issue: my eyes. I mean, I get it, they’re unique, but did they have to be that eye-catching? Every time I go outside, someone gasps or freezes when they see them.
“Oh, what beautiful golden eyes she has! She must be blessed by the gods!”
Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that. Blessed by the gods. Not that I, you know, created this world and thought golden eyes would be cool for the deities. Sometimes, my past self was too creative for her own good. Now I’m stuck with people thinking I’m some divine prodigy when I’m just trying to fly under the radar.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
But hey, at least they’re not freaking out about my elf ears, thanks to my hair. I’d rather be seen as a blessed child than as a half-breed freak, so... silver linings, right?
Third issue: I’m way too perfect. Not to sound arrogant, but it’s true. I got a glimpse of myself in the mirror a few weeks ago, and holy crap, I’m adorable. My skin is flawless, my eyes have this golden glow, and my hair is like some sort of magical raven silk.
I look like a porcelain doll.
And, as expected, people go nuts for it.
“Oh my gods, she’s so cute!”
“I just want to pinch her cheeks!”
“She looks like an angel!”
Yeah, I get it, I’m cute. But this whole being too perfect thing is going to blow my cover eventually.
Sigh... Who knew pretending to be ordinary was this hard?
---
Fast forward a few months, and it’s finally my first birthday. Mother tried to keep it low-key, but the neighbors had other plans. Logan, the owner of the inn we’re staying at, closed the place and threw a party in the tavern connected to it. Apparently, I’ve become the neighborhood mascot because of my adorable little face.
Not that I asked for this kind of attention.
I’m sitting on Mother’s lap, staring at the loud group of people at our table. There’s food, drinks, and a lot of noise. Most of these people, I don’t even know. There’s Mother, Arvion, Logan, his wife, and a bunch of other faces I barely recognize. But hey, at least the party’s for me.
“Thank you,” I squeak, my voice as cute as I am.
And that’s when everything goes silent. Like, dead silent. The whole room stops, and everyone’s staring at me like I just grew a second head.
Oh... Right. My first words. In public. Out loud.
Crap.
The silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity before someone speaks.
“S-She talked!” someone shrieks. “Little Soli’s talking!”
The entire room erupts in chaos. People are rushing toward me, trying to touch my cheeks, pat my head, and basically smother me with affection.
Thankfully, Mother isn’t having any of it. She stands up, scoops me into her arms, and gives the crowd one of her signatures stay-away-from-my-child glares. Logan’s wife, who was about to grab me, steps back awkwardly.
“Sorry, Elorza,” she mumbles.
“It’s fine,” Mother says, her tone a little sharper than usual. She sits back down with me securely in her lap, like I’m a fragile treasure. Which, I guess, I kind of am.
The rest of the party goes smoothly after that. Lots of drinking, laughing, and people forgetting that I’m supposed to be the center of attention. At one point, Mother sneaks us out of the party and back into our room because, apparently, one-year-olds need to sleep. Who knew?
Once we’re in our room, Mother sits me down on the bed and pulls out a small ring from her pocket. It’s simple, but beautiful. The honey amber stone shines in the dim light, attached to a thin silver band.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she whispers, slipping the ring onto a string and tying it around my neck like a necklace.
I stare at the ring, surprised. Back in my old world, this would’ve been considered a cheap trinket, but here, I can tell it’s something special. Mother probably saved up for this. It’s humbling, to say the least.
"Me too!" Arvion suddenly shouts, breaking the quiet moment.
Mother raises an eyebrow. "You want a ring too?"
"What? No way, that’s for girls!" Arvion pouts before proudly announcing, “I got a present for Soli too!”
He launches himself onto the bed and practically crushes me with a bear hug. “Happy birthday, little sister!” He beams, his face full of innocence.
Well, I guess suffocating me is one way to show love.
After that near-death experience, we all crawl into bed together. It’s a bit cramped, but oddly comforting. Mother starts humming a lullaby, and the soft melody brings back memories from my past life.
Hush now, my dear, the stars are aglow,
Soft winds are singing, and moonlight’s a flow.
Close your sweet eyes, let the world drift away,
Dreamland is calling, come rest where you lay.
Drift, drift, on clouds so light,
Wander through dreams in the still of the night.
With starlight to guide you, and peace in your heart,
Sleep, little one, till the morning doth start.
The night sky is calm, the world fades to blue,
The whispers of night are all meant for you.
The flowers are sleeping, the ocean is still,
The world waits for morning, yet time bends at will.
Drift, drift, on clouds so light,
Wander through dreams in the still of the night.
With starlight to guide you, and peace in your heart,
Sleep, little one, till the morning doth start.
---
In the middle of the night, I wake up to a strange sound—like... cracked pads? I blink and look around. Mom and Arvion are still fast asleep, but there, on the windowsill, I see a shadow.
A crow.
Just sitting there, staring at me with glowing red eyes.
Why is there a crow in my room at this hour?
Mom probably left the window open again. Should I scare it away? I don’t need a wild bird wrecking our room.
But the crow just sits there, not moving. We stare at each other for what feels like minutes. Finally, I wave my arms in an attempt to shoo it off.
Then something weird happens.
“Finally, I found you,” the crow says before hopping off the windowsill and disappearing into the night.
...
Did... did that crow just talk?