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Chapter 17
Ayla felt her face burn with shame, anger, and the urge to run away.
But she couldn’t lash out.
Her eyes stung, and before she realized it, tears had begun to well up.
Seeing her trembling, face flushed bright red and eyes shimmering with tears, the large spirit standing behind her finally spoke.
“That’s enough. Can’t you see Ayla dislikes it?”
“Eh?”
“Humans dislike it when others watch their personal affairs.”
The glowing sphere of light floated around her, back and forth, and then chirped cheerfully:
“But Ayla’s girlish heart is wonderful!”
“Yes, yes! That line was so good! ‘Luca, are you abandoning Ayla? Have you stopped liking her?’”
“Kyaaaa!”
“Kyaaaaaaah!”
“Come on, Luca! Say your line too!”
Ayla thought she might faint right there on the spot.
The large spirit snapped its fingers, and all the light spheres suddenly turned into fish.
They flapped their fins in protest, but unable to speak, they went quiet.
The spirit’s voice softened.
“Don’t be too angry. Shame or embarrassment—those feelings are faint and hazy to us. Lower spirits don’t even have them at all.”
“…Yes.”
Ayla lowered her head. The great spirit gently lifted her chin with a fingertip and smiled warmly.
“Thanks to your diary, you’re incredibly popular among us now. Spirits love dramatic stories.”
Ayla didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Her heart felt as though she’d just eaten something sour and bitter all at once.
And then, realization struck her.
Her tragic death.
“Wait… do you know that I came back?”
The spirit’s laughter was like the sound of a waterfall—distant, refreshing, and yet majestic.
“Of course. We were the ones who sent you back.”
“What?!”
Ayla’s eyes grew wide, round with shock. The spirit chuckled again.
“Everyone regretted that your story ended there. After all, stories are better when they’re happy. And since you’re the child with hair of sunlight, it was easy to turn you back.”
Ayla stared blankly, unable to grasp her emotions. The spirit’s expression grew solemn. Darkness seemed to veil the surroundings, as though water and night itself had draped over her.
“Do you dislike it? Shall we return things as they were? Some of us thought this might be too much interference.”
“If you… return me…?”
“Then your story ends as it did. Without beginning again.”
“You mean… I die. And it ends.”
“Yes. Beyond the veil of peace, everything disappears.”
Ayla drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
So my life is just a play for them to watch?
They save me, they kill me, all on a whim?
She wanted to scream, to rage, to collapse to her knees—but the feelings tangled, strange and overwhelming.
Finally, she inhaled sharply, steadied herself, and spoke firmly.
“Please don’t ever do that again.”
“We won’t. Not ever again.”
“And this time… thank you. For giving me another chance. I’ve been learning so many things I never knew before.”
Even so—she was grateful.
A second chance at life wasn’t something given lightly.
The spirit’s eyes widened, and then it smiled gently.
“What a kind child you are.”
The spirit’s voice was soft as it continued:
“We only wanted to comfort you a little, seeing you cry like that. Ayla Solalun, you are not pathetic.”
But Ayla couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“That diary was all lies. No one likes me. No one believes me. I’m pathetic. I’m a fool.”
“We aren’t speaking only of the diary. We’ve always been watching you. Your recklessness, your weakness—they’re all precious to us.”
“But… but what if I fail again? Why can’t I be clever like Helen?”
“Then you can learn from Helen, can’t you?”
Ayla lifted her gaze. The spirit rested its chin on its hand, then shook a finger.
“A human soul is born without resonance. It learns from the waves of those around it. A wave you haven’t learned can’t be imitated. If you stay close to someone, you learn their waves whether you want to or not. That’s why, by staying near Helen, you’ll learn hers.”
“Really…?”
“Of course. That’s why humans resemble their parents even while resenting them—how they get angry, how they resolve anger, how they speak kindly even in fury, how they express joy or sadness. It’s all learned.”
“That’s amazing.”
“Humans are made to form bonds. Unlike us. And this time, you’re not alone, Ayla. You grieved that no one believed in you, didn’t you? Then now, you must be the one to believe in others.”
Ayla’s cheeks flushed.
She had been thinking something similar herself.
In her past life, she had thought alone, lived inside her own little world, acted alone—and perished alone.
Because I thought no one would ever trust me anyway. And I almost fell into the same trap again.
She slapped both cheeks with her palms, her blue eyes glinting with renewed determination.
“I will. I’ll do that.”
The spirit chuckled softly.
“Good. Child of sunlight hair.”
That phrase made Ayla pause.
“My hair… what does that mean? You called it hair of light earlier. But my hair is brown.”
“In Solalun, sometimes a child is born with golden hair that shines—the hair of a spirit. It’s too much blessing to leave as is, so the light is separated. That’s why your hair looks brown. But here… look.”
The spirit raised its hands, shaping a mirror of water in the air.
Ayla stepped closer—and gasped.
The girl in the mirror had radiant golden hair, gleaming like sunlight.
“…I wouldn’t need a lantern at night.”
“Exactly. But it would be troublesome for a human, and not right either. Now…”
The water mirror shimmered, transforming into a small glass vial. A golden glow drifted from Ayla’s hair, gathering inside the bottle.
“This light drives away darkness—sunlight and moonlight together.”
Ayla gazed, enchanted.
So this is my true hair color. My real self.
If Mother knew this… surely she would—
“Can I… can I ever have this hair back?”
“That, I cannot give. But I will return the separated light. So you may always brighten the darkness when you need to.”
Ayla nodded, both disappointed and awed. Then a sudden thought struck her.
“If I had this light… could I have defeated the demons?”
“Not if they had already made a contract, feeding on humans. Light alone could not overcome that.”
“They’ve already contracted?!”
Ayla jumped, but the spirit shook its head.
“No. Not yet.”
Even without naming him, Ayla knew who the spirit meant. Roland. Relief washed over her. He had not yet formed the contract.
Then it’s still possible. Maybe this time… I’ll see his face again.
Her feelings twisted strangely—part wonder, part pride.
To be speaking with a spirit at all—it proved she was truly a child of Solalun.
Her unstable steps felt grounded at last.
The spirit’s tone turned leisurely.
“And stop calling me ‘Spirit.’ My name is Nairien.”
“Nairien… sir.”
The moment she spoke the name, it rippled like water in her mouth.
Nairien smiled faintly.
“Names hold power. Call mine within the water, and I’ll come to your aid.”
“Thank you.”
Ayla bowed deeply. She knew well the weight of learning a spirit’s true name.
Solalun’s records forbade ever writing them down.
At that moment, the fish that had guided her earlier—the largest of the glowing orbs—fluttered into her hands, rubbing against her palm like a cat.
Nairien sighed, snapped his fingers, and it turned back into a glowing sphere.
The little spirit’s voice piped up, trembling with eagerness:
“I… I want to go with Ayla!”
