𝘿𝙚𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙁𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨 (Mystic Prince Fanfiction)

Chapter 1: Librarian's offspring

Being a palace librarian's offspring had its perks. Living a tranquil life in this glorious place was all someone could ask for.

Glorious, yet this place gives off such shallowness. Even with all the loyal and hardworking servants diligently maintaining the place, the grandness and wealthiness of a palace so vast cannot prevent the creeping feeling of desolation. Despite the thousands of servants working here, and the Princes and the Emperor, in which even a mere million lives can't afford to hold as much value as theirs have, living in this place, one cannot ignore the emptiness, the shallowness, and the hollowness. These people have been working and living here for so long now, everyone's become immune to the mundane ways of living.

One is always filled with gratitude to be able to live comfortably, but alas, when one lives too much in the confines of this comfort, they lose themselves and inevitably reek of despair and immeasurable loneliness.

Yes, loneliness.

The one thing a mere, librarian's offspring, can see upon everything residing here.

Be it the servants, the animals, the buildings...

Even the royal princes of Myolyeong.

Like this place, they are covered in grandiose clothes from head to toe, showing elegant poise and manners befitting a prince, and above all, their powers.

...I can't help but feel pity for them.

Is all this lowly person can think of when looking at those princes. Hollow people, hollow eyes, hollow feelings... The hollowness seeping out of the royalty devours all. Reminding people who can witness this, that no matter how big a privilege someone can be blessed with in life, an equally big responsibility will weigh on their shoulders until privilege will cease to be a blessing. Such is the life.

You've always kept in mind your father's wisdom, to keep your head low and be humble. Lest you want to face the wrath of the powerful beings everyone serves. Be calm and collected, do your tasks as a servant, be polite, and always, always watch your tongue.

You've never not been grateful for your father's warm wisdom he bestowed upon you, to ensure you lead a peaceful and safe life. He gave you freedom and allowed you to be independent. He wanted his child to learn how to rely on themselves and be good with their thinking. You were taught the basics of living. Like how to cook, how to sew, and a little bit of self defense when you find yourself in a dangerous situation. Just the basics. He let you go on your own to find your hobbies, what you love, and your identity. As long as it doesn't rain harm on you. He was a nice and caring father that made you independent.

It's been centuries since his passing. And you still keep close whatever belongings he has that has not withered away with time. You come by to the libraries on his birthdays and anniversaries, since he was always fond of them. Jokingly saying to you when you were a kid that after he dies, he'll haunt the libraries. Or ask to be buried there. Needless to say your eyes were puffy and red the whole day after that, because you couldn't fathom your father's death as a young child.

He let you have the decision whether or not you'd like to inherit the role of being the next palace librarian after him. After living all your life in the confines of those libraries, however peaceful and calming they were, it did little to stop the manifestation of boredom inside you because of always being in the libraries almost your whole life. You could even say you lived there.

As a child, you had to do a servant's task while juggling assisting your father from time to time with his duties as a librarian. You were proud to call yourself his diligent assistant.

It was nice while it lasted. All those memories of your father.

Inside this hollow place, you felt fulfilled in your little world of the libraries accompanied by your father and his endless warmth. A candle's flames could only dream to be as warm as your father.