The morning sun peeked cautiously over the snow-covered pines, casting long shadows across the cabin floor. The chill in the air was sharper now, a clear reminder that winter's grasp was tightening. Inside the small room, the baby lay swaddled in thick blankets, his pale skin almost glowing in the cold light. His blue eyes, bright and alert, flickered open, reflecting the soft glimmer of frost clinging to the windowpane.
He didn't cry this time.
Instead, he observed.
Even at such a young age, his mind was already sharp and restless. The interface flickered faintly again before his eyes — like a whisper of light in the darkness — a small glow revealing his growing stats and skills:
Attributes
Strength: 2 (newborn baby)
Dexterity: 1 (uncoordinated infant)
Constitution: 3
Intelligence: 6 (Adult trapped in baby body)
Wisdom: 5 (Growing awareness)
Charisma: 1
Luck: 6 (+1)
Skills
Cry (Lvl 1)
Grip (Lvl 1)
Perception (Lvl 1)
Frost Touch (Lvl 1)
The newest addition was 'Frost Touch' — a skill that tingled faintly on the surface of his skin whenever he reached out. It was weak, more like a shiver than actual cold, but it was real. It was power.
He wiggled his fingers, watching tiny ice crystals form and then melt away like morning dew. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth — a rare reflex for someone so young, but he felt an odd thrill deep inside.
His mother was nearby, humming softly as she tended a small fire. She glanced down at him, eyes filled with quiet pride and worry. Her fingers traced gentle patterns on his blanket, her voice a soothing balm.
"Little Frostborn," she whispered. "You are part of the winter's heart. You carry the chill and the storm. But you will learn, and you will grow."
The baby's mind seized on her words, turning them over like a precious stone. Growing. Learning. These were words from another life, from the stories he once read about heroes and gods. Now, they were his reality.
He tried to focus on the world beyond the cabin — the crackling fire, the faint footsteps outside, the rustle of pine branches swaying in the breeze. His 'Perception' skill helped him pick out details most would miss. He noticed how the snow drifted in soft spirals, how the light changed with the slow movement of clouds.
Even the cold seemed alive, wrapping around the cabin like a silent guardian. It wasn't something to fear but to understand.
His tiny hand twitched again, this time a little stronger. He managed to close his fingers around a loose thread on the blanket — his first real grip. The thread tightened, then slipped free, but the sense of control filled him with new determination.
The baby wasn't helpless. Not anymore.
Hours passed in gentle rhythms. The fire warmed the room, and his mother's voice told quiet stories — tales of ancient gods, frozen realms, and the endless cycle of winter and thaw. Though he couldn't speak, he listened, storing every word like a treasure.
At one point, a sharp cry burst from him — not a simple wail, but an instinctive release of energy. The room chilled suddenly, a breath of cold sweeping across the wood floor. For a moment, frost glittered on the windowsill, tiny stars made of ice.
His mother looked up, surprised but not afraid. She knew what that meant. The power inside him was awakening, slowly but surely.
In those long hours of quiet, the baby learned something new: power was not just about strength or magic. It was about patience, control, and understanding. Even in his tiny body, he felt the weight of that lesson.
The world outside was vast and cold, but inside the cabin, amidst firelight and lullabies, he was beginning to find his place.
Attributes Update
Strength: 2
Dexterity: 1
Constitution: 3
Intelligence: 6
Wisdom: 6 (+1)
Charisma: 1
Luck: 6 (+1)
Skills Update
Cry (Lvl 1)
Grip (Lvl 2) (Improved control)
Perception (Lvl 2)
Frost Touch (Lvl 1)
His journey had only just begun.