Aya Ran Away - Chapter 2

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 2
Aya stared at Nahal’s lustrous hair, at his eyes darkened like pools of water.
Those gleaming irises were like those of a predator capable of swallowing her whole in a single breath.
She would swear he had never looked at her this way before.
“Aya.”
His voice was disturbingly soft.
“Why did you betray me?”
He gazed at her with an expression of utter incomprehension.
Nahal studied her face with trembling hands.
He saw the gaunt, pallid features, the tears glistening at the corners of her reddened eyes.
He saw her lips pressed tightly shut.
“Why did you betray me?”
His voice, asking this again, was as cold as the floor on which she had collapsed.
Wrapping herself in that coldness like a blanket, Aya thought.
‘He does not trust me.’
The obvious truth pierced through her.
At last, whatever lingering hope had dwelt within her let out a strangled cry and died.
Chapter 0
Levar was once a land of gods.
In the beginning, a god loved a child of the earth and placed him above all people, and thus began a great kingdom.
Until the god’s child died, there was neither drought nor strife nor famine in that land.
Every sword and spear turned against Levar lost its power, and all people knelt before the god’s child and bowed their heads.
The god loved the child with a terrible devotion, and loved even the kingdom that bore his mark.
From the moment the god took care of that kingdom, every king of Levar was chosen through Divine Oracle.
Countless rulers passed through the throne that the child had occupied, each sitting and then falling in turn.
Some were guided peacefully, lived out their natural span, and died; others, consumed by excessive ambition, met their death in strife before their appointed time.
Then one day, a king’s heart began to cultivate desire.
A Demon came seeking him in that opening.
“Give your crown to your son. Let that crown never leave your house.”
As the king heeded the Demon’s whisper, it did not cease its murmuring.
“Let that crown never leave your house. If you do this, your line will rule this land forever, and even in death you shall be glorious—how great a glory that is!”
Bewitched by the Demon’s whisper, the king became consumed with the thought that he would surrender neither his seat nor his glory to anyone.
And so the king slaughtered the boy child who had received the Divine Oracle, the child who was to become king after him.
As the child’s blood flowed and soaked the earth, the land wailed.
The throne was stained with blood that could not be wiped away.
The god departed, and only Demons remained in the Royal Palace.
Thus the descendants of that wicked king heard the voices of Demons.
They never ceased their wars and, seized by madness, always met terrible deaths.
Yet despite all this, the throne never passed to another house.
So for hundreds of years the people groaned in agony, until at last a prophecy returned to Levar.
Chapter 1
If one were to ask who among all who dwell in the Royal Palace of Levar was the most unfortunate, every soul belonging to that palace would answer with one voice.
“Aya.”
A mute half-body paralytic, a limping princess afflicted with the royal madness.
She was the woman who bore every misfortune conceivable.
A madwoman more often out of her senses than in them, a homely thing who knew shame and wore a veil, a solitary soul whom even servants shunned—such were the whispers about her.
Aya was the only princess born to the reigning king Ismorabelle and his third wife, a woman of priestly lineage.
But tragically, the third queen died of childbed fever shortly after giving birth to the princess, and the king, her father, left her hidden deep in the palace, abandoned and forgotten.
The princess was never introduced as a member of the royal house until she reached sixteen.
Rumors accumulated around the princess, neglected for so long.
Some said the princess had not been in the palace until she turned sixteen; others whispered that she was not even the king’s true daughter.
Yet Aya was assuredly the king’s own child.
Her black hair and ashen eyes were identical to the king’s, and if there had been any room for doubt whatsoever, he would have long since removed her from the palace.
The king lived for a long time forgetting about the useless princess.
Perhaps he believed that if he did not concern himself with her, she would die of her own accord.
Yet Aya persisted, with grim tenacity.
Though there were narrow escapes, she survived unscarred until sixteen, and at last revealed her existence to the world.
But was this truly a blessing for her?
One who had watched over Aya said, “It would have been better had her existence remained unknown.”
Then she would never have become the object of mockery for the entire kingdom.
The Royal Palace had made no effort to protect the princess’s honor, and the people showed no restraint in speaking of a princess so deeply flawed.
Aya became the stuff of cheap gossip on every tongue.
But what of Aya herself—what did she think of it all?
‘?’
That was the extent of her reaction.
It would be a lie to say she paid no mind at all, yet insults spoken behind her back, not to her face, rarely cut very deep.
The ones she heard directly were more than enough.
Had she taken wounds from all of it, she would have drowned in tears long ago.
Besides, Aya had far more pressing matters to occupy her attention.
She possessed eyes that were somewhat unusual.
She couldn’t say when it had begun, but Aya could perceive the underside of the world—things invisible to others.
Aya could see Demons.
[Cackle, cackle, cackle.]
These Demons fed on the wicked desires of men.
They clung to people’s shoulders, whispered temptations in their ears, urged them toward depravity, and seized their limbs to prevent any goodness.
Thus they corrupted the Soul and finally drained away the ruined Spirit.
Most people Aya knew could neither see the Demons nor hear their voices.
Yet they were swept about by them nonetheless.
‘Why can only I see them?’
She alone could perceive them, and she alone could stop them from swallowing people whole.
Beasts were different.
Beasts were visible, tangible, even killable—but Demons were not.
As a result, Aya was perpetually occupied.
What she did amounted to volunteering for thankless labor that no one would ever acknowledge.
Yet Aya did not think of herself as virtuous.
She simply lacked the thick skin required to turn away from a person dying before her eyes.
This was precisely one such moment.
[Delicious! So delicious!]
A Demon with a head no larger than a fist was sinking its teeth into the attendant’s neck.
The Spirit must have been entirely to its taste; it was even crying out in delight.
The Demon’s head was still small, but its mouth alone consumed more than half its surface.
The way it gorged itself—left unchecked, this would end in catastrophe.
Aya could easily imagine the fate of the one being consumed.
One whose Soul had been devoured by a Demon would forget the tender emotions that any human ought to possess and lose all control of desire.
From this moment forward, that person would become someone entirely different.
Gratitude and affection toward others, respect and compassion—all those gentle feelings would vanish entirely, leaving only uncontrollable desire to drive them toward crime.
Unable to trust anyone, wracked by suspicion, they would endure sleepless nights until at last they withered and died.
The one being bitten was a face she recognized quite well.
‘Why does this have to appear before my eyes, of all things?’
Even as Aya grumbled inwardly, she gripped her Staff.
As if drawing breath through pursed lips, she channeled her power into the Staff in her grasp.
She swung the Staff and struck the Demon clinging to the man’s body.
When it hit a vital point, the Demon convulsed and tore away.
[Let out a piercing shriek!]

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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