I Just Wanted to Nap, But They Built Me a Religion

It had been a few days since the blessing ceremony, and Ezrel hadn't made a sound.

Not a whimper. Not a giggle. Not even a cry.

Not because he was sick or shy. He just… wanted peace.

Finally, some rest, Ezrel thought, closing his eyes.

He didn't know or care to know that the only reason things were quiet was because the entire household had begun worshipping him like a divine heir.

---

Throughout the Dormir estate, his silence became legend.

"The child hasn't cried once," whispered a nurse in awe.

"A savior sent from the heavens," proclaimed a nearby priest, eyes misty with devotion.

Ezrel lay motionless in his crib, eyes half-lidded, doing absolutely nothing.

A gentle breeze passed through the open window.

The priest stepped forward to bless the child—

—then froze mid-gesture.

His eyes widened. His hands trembled.

"I… I felt something. His aura. It brushed against my soul."

He dropped to his knees.

"It was like… like being touched by divinity!"

The priest staggered backward, clutching his chest.

"The aura—so pure… so still."

He turned to the gathered servants.

"Mark this day. The heavens have touched the earth."

A maid fainted on the spot. Another began sketching Ezrel's sleeping face, convinced it would become a holy symbol.

Ezrel, still lying in his crib, shifted slightly to turn away from them. He was trying to block the sunlight hitting his eyelid.

"Look! He turns from worldly distractions," someone gasped. "He seeks only the inner light!"

He just wanted a nap.

Ezrel blinked slowly, rolled to his side, and closed his eyes again.

Ignore it. If I sleep long enough, maybe he'll disappear.

---

A week passed.

One quiet evening, the Dormir family gathered for dinner and yes, they dragged Ezrel's crib to the dining hall.

How else could a two-year-old join the table?

His father raised a wine glass. "Hahaha! It's a blessing! Truly, our family has been gifted with a future king!"

His mother beamed. "Didn't I tell you? Look at his posture. Such composure. Such stillness. He has a king's bearing already."

"Yes," his uncle added solemnly. "We must begin training him to rule."

Ezrel blinked.

Then, for the first time in his life

he cried.

---

"Quick! Collect the tear!" his father shouted. "We can use it to make a divine potion!"

Ezrel sobbed harder.

"Please... give me a rest..."

---

The next morning, the priest returned summoned like a prized appraiser. Ezrel's tear, stored in a crystal vial, was handed over with reverence.

The priest examined it closely, then raised both arms toward the sky.

"I declare this child…"

"…The Serene Heir. As known by the capital now confirmed by the divine."

It wasn't a new title. The capital had already been whispering it since his birth.

But now, with the priest's hands raised and Ezrel's tear gleaming like a gemstone in a vial, it became official.

Ezrel stared at the ceiling, hollow-eyed, exhausted.

I didn't ask for any of this.

I just want to sleep.