She'd been seven years old when the spirit ceremony failed.
Every child in the orphanage had lined up in the courtyard, scrubbed clean and dressed in their best clothes—which for most of them meant "least patched." The Spirit Caller had arrived at dawn, an elderly woman with kind eyes and a contract mark that glowed like moonlight on her palm.
"Don't be nervous," she'd told them, her voice warm. "Your spirits are already waiting for you. They've been watching you your whole lives, learning who you are. Today, you simply… meet."
One by one, the children had stepped forward. One by one, light had bloomed around them as their spirits manifested. A small fox made of autumn leaves. A bird of crystallized song. A rabbit that smelled like fresh rain.
Then it had been Kira's turn.
She'd stepped into the circle, her heart pounding with hope and terror in equal measure. This was it. This was the moment that would change everything. With a contract, she'd be worth something. Worth keeping.
Worth—
Nothing happened.
The Spirit Caller had frowned, confused. She'd tried again, speaking the words of invitation more clearly, her own spirit-a great owl of silver light-spreading its wings to call out to whatever might be waiting for Kira.
Still nothing.
"I don't understand," the Spirit Caller had murmured. "There's always something. Even the weakest child has a spirit waiting. Unless…"
She'd trailed off, but Kira had seen it in her eyes. The realization. The pity.
"I'm sorry, child," she'd said softly. "Sometimes… sometimes a soul is too damaged. Too broken. The spirit can't sense it, and they … they don't want to bind themselves to something that might shatter."
The orphanage matron had sold her three days later.