Prologue

Love.

An emotion so subjective... yet substantial in the minds of people.

Throughout my life, I have never understood this subtle emotion called love.

But… upon my hands, the front cover of this book tells me the tale about the fleeting love of two people.

A handsome male with midnight hair holding hands with a beautiful woman with pure-white hair, dancing majestically underneath a cherry blossom tree. The closer you look, the more you can see their faces closing in on each other, ready to kiss.

When I first read the love story of these two people, I began to wonder...

How would it feel to love someone like that... be it to family, or a significant other?

Is there a person out there who would show an emotion like that to me?

Still... who exactly are the two characters that I'm talking about?

They are the main protagonists from a well-known novel: Ways of the Mystic.

A popular romance novel that caught the attention of the young adults of the Korean peninsula.

A compelling novel filled with romance, fantasy, swords, magic, and drama through a journey mirroring the medieval era.

The main couple of the novel included the heroine, Seraphina Blakestey, the only daughter of one of the four Grand Duke families of the Izora Empire, and the prince of the Izora Empire, Augustus Rutherford.

As I slowly flipped a page of this book, I couldn't help but gazed upon the first paragraph that starts of this story. I gently placed my hands on the paper, caressing the words that people say were beautiful and romantic, and reading to myself the fated meeting of this couple once again.

A young girl with silky white hair sits on the porch of the Ducal family garden, deep in thought as she gazes at her swinging feets with a saddened expression with her pale, but healthy, skin that resembles snow. Her eyes mirrored the luster of ruby, while her eyelashes, fixated and invoked, brought envy to any woman that gazed upon her astounding beauty.

She slowly gazes upon the red flowers in front of her, eyes sharpening while her unwavering posture that showed elegance and maturity continued.

It was no exaggeration to say that the perfect definition of winter was displayed.

She slowly looked away from the beautiful red roses, gazing nearby before her eyes slowly widened. As the red petals slowly gleaned away from their bud, they began to travel at the walking boy.

Delicate, brushed back-blue hair that represents night itself with sapphire-like eyes. Sightly tan skin that showed his training under the sun while practicing the sword. Sharp, narrow eyes that showed indifference towards everything with medium-thick eyebrows. But even with his indifferent eyes, he wore a bright smile that showed confidence as he continued to walk.

The midnight-haired boy felt the gaze of the girl, stopping amidst his track before slowly gazing at her.

Both children interlocked gazes with each other, neither of them blinked for a while, until the guard that accompanied the prince called out to him to return to the carriage.

This fateful meeting was the beginning of the story.

I turned to the next page of the book, and the page after that. Reading and reading the familiar words over and over again before stopping at a single page, gently clenching the sheet before returning back to the start.

As Seraphina continues to gaze at the prince who was leaving, a young white-haired boy hides behind a pillar, watching the situation unfold. 

The splitting image of Seraphina was embarked on the boy. Short wavy-hair, skin as fair as white, the left irises being light hazel brown, while the right being completely white.

It was also this moment that they introduced the first out of the three villains of the novel: Lysander Blakesty, Seraphina's older brother.

Lysander Blakesty suffered so much during his childhood. Always being the target of assassination attempts, being used by other nobles and betrayed by those he thought were on his side. 

With so many traumatic events, it led him to become the cold, ruthless and sadistic villain that every reader despised.

He would deliberately create events to bring chaos to the Izora Empire and make it collapse, be it political, socially, or economically. But every time he does so, it will inevitably end with bloodshed.

It was never revealed what his ulterior reason was for trying to destroy the empire. Readers speculated that it was maybe from a personal grudge, or that maybe he was just a sadistic person who enjoyed the agony of other's...

Among all, readers speculated about how Lysander wanted to use Seraphina's unique power to accomplish this unknown goal.

There were five blessings bestowed upon the Gods of this novel: The Blessing of the Sword, The Blessing of the Mana, The Blessing of Light, The Blessing of Darkness, and The Blessing of the Spirits.

Seraphina was blessed by the God of Spirits, and was granted the power to call forth any spirits she wanted without a contract. But in return, her mana became so pure that she would be unable to use magic.

The ability to summon any spirit on command was impossible in this book. One had to be chosen by the spirits themselves if they wanted their blessing.

But after her gift was somehow known to the world, many corrupted people tried to use her power for their selfish goals. 

It was also around the same time, at the age of fifteen, that Lysander took the rights of the Blakesty Duke position after allegedly murdering his own father, eliminating anyone under the formal duke and those that went against him.

Maybe it was in his own considerate way, but after he took the duke position, Lysander locked up his own sister. 

It was because of this that many readers speculated that Lysander wanted to use the power of the spirits to bring down the Izora Empire. 

But even after reading this book again and again… Not once did he ever use the power of the spirits for his own benefit. Not once did he use his own sister…

I wonder why… Why are people suspecting him to be this cruel? 

I flipped the book to a new page, finding the details of his childhood that I thought made these accusations baseless. 

His mother was assassinated under the direct order of her own father, Count Avington, after giving birth to Seraphina. The former duke tried his very best to protect her, especially from the count.

But as she brought her dead body close to him, unable to hear a single warmth from her body, the duke was brought into immense grief and anguish. That same grief was what brought him to his downfall. 

It was at that moment that his whole personality changed drastically.

I'm uncertain about the specific details, but he suddenly began avoiding his children and locked himself away in his room. There were subtle details about Seraphina hearing screaming, crashing, and the sound of liquid gushing with a final thud… but that was about it.

After neglecting his son, Lysander was targeted by many assassins that were sent by the same person who killed his mother. But for some reason, the duke never took action, even after the near-death of his son.

Nobles who knew of the duke's neglect then aimed at the future heir and tried to manipulate the for their own benefit. But once again, not once did his father care about the suffering of his own child…

It's so strange… I can't help but flipt back to the last page.

Even after he suffered throughout his whole life because of the duke's neglect, killing his own father because of vengeance in some way seems understandable. But it was right after that troubles me.

He was found carrying the dead body of his father out of the room and prepared a proper funeral in remembrance right before he locked Seraphina away. 

Why would he do that if he hated him…? I don't understand…

After that, there were many rumors spreading throughout the empire of how he murdered his own father to attain the duke position and was someone that wished to destroy the empire as a whole.

But after being locked up for three years, the fifteen-year-old Seraphina managed to break off her constraint with the help of her fellow summoned spirits and went on to escape the hellish place filled with misery.

But with no place to go to, she wandered the street for weeks, sleeping on the roads, and almost starved to death until she finally met the prince again in a fateful encounter.

As the two people talked to each other once again, the prince then decided to take Seraphina into the palace and help and protect her from his cruel brother that went mad searching for her.

But even when the prince hid the young girl away, she was soon found by the duke.

As Lysander continued to try and eliminate the prince who wanted to protect Seraphina, they decided to finally clash it out with a single match. They fought on an empty, grass plain. Their swords clash hard, slashing each other with no sign of stopping. In the end, the prince stabbed Lysander's heart and ended his sad life. 

I finally closed the book, staring at the front cover once again.

The story doesn't focus nor end with the crazy duke, Lysander. It was just a piece of the overall plot that increased the leading couple's relationship, power, and influence. There are many more parts in this novel that other readers keep referring to, like war and magic.

But, for some reason… I can't help but try to defend the cruel villain, Lysander.

He faced so many hardships, but in the end, suffered miserably till his death. His actions were of course considered inexcusable, I just can't help but compare him to myself…

Just like him, I was someone that was abandoned by his parents. Just like him, I also thought that the whole world was against him…

Yes... I'm just another reader of this romance novel.

Just someone called Choi Do-Woon.

But...

I don't think there will be anyone who will remember me.

Diagnosed with an incurable illness, I'm destined to die on this hospital bed.

I slowly gaze away from the book cover and out the small window. Gazing into the glass... I see my thin, shriveled body with messy brown hair that I have not touched for God knows how long. I slowly interlocked with my own deep-brown dead eyes that showed no sign of life or meaning...

The more I gaze towards my near-dead self, the more I remember how I got here.

My own parents abandoned me in this forsaken hospital. The same parents who are supposed to nurture and guide their child abandoned me in this hospital without remorse…

I stare at my pale hand, before bringing them down.

Ever since I could remember... I knew that I was...

Different.

My ability to express emotions, or even feel them, was non-existent.

Times where I was supposed to show a smile, I was unable. In a situation where any normal child would usually cry was impossible for me to imitate. Little moments where I had to display anger just wouldn't click to me.

I… I was just unable to show them...

I was just like a human doll.

A doll that was unable to understand the actions of people caused by instances rather than logical causes. A doll that was unable to understand the human concept that makes them who they are. 

Everything in my life was so grey, a world filled with nothing but misery, where I suffered this accursed fate given to me.

But with the cost of my emotions, I gained intelligence.

Everything was so simple to solve... Everything was so simple to learn... Whatever little thing I saw, It will stick in my mind without forgetting. Whatever I read, I would recall the exact text with a simple thought. Whatever I heard... I could easily recall it word by word.

I was young and naive when I first showed my intelligence to them, thinking that they would be happy with this intelligent trait. But... unfortunately, the opposite occurred.

"Mother. Look what I did."

As my mother was cooking dinner in the kitchen like any other evening, I showed her a piece of paper, filled with complex mathematical equations only taught in college.

I was playing outside the house to relieve my boredom, when I saw a piece of paper land down near me, crumbled up as if to vent their frustration.

I picked it up, and soon... These mathematical problems in the paper mesmerized me.

I had never seen so many numbers, or even letters, in one place before. I tried to understand the topic with the provided context and written attempts, and was then able to solve it. I showed it to my mother, whom I thought I trusted at the time, to see if what I did was impressive.

"What is this..."

But rather than showing a happy reaction, my mother's face distorted. She covered her mouth before angrily tearing the paper in front of me before yelling at me to go to my room.

I wonder... Why did mother react like that?

I keep asking that question even now. After that incident, both my parents began to treat me differently...

As I grew older, they noticed this intelligent, yet emotionless, trait of mine. They despaired over my unchanging face whenever we did something as a family, from going to the park, to going to the store, to even just walking down the road hand in hand.

All they wanted was a son that they could love, play, and have fun, create unforgettable memories together, and live a happy life. But what they got.... It was something that lacked human integrity.

They saw me as a monster.

Every time they see me, they look at me with disgust. Their facial expressions showed no sympathy. Unusual movements of their bodies showed hesitation and animosity. The rigid and forcing of their facial muscles was noticeably clear to me.

Ah... I can see it.

They don't love me.

They despise me.

Yet... even knowing that, I couldn't respond back. I know that I'm supposed to feel some sort of lingering anger, but I didn't.

I know that I'm supposed to feel... sad, because they don't love me.

But I didn't...

I just felt empty.

One night when they thought I was asleep, they began conversing about me in the living room. The lights woke me up, and I heard the voice of my parents resonating through the door. As I slowly opened the door of my room, I walked towards the living room.

Standing behind a wall to hide myself, I could clearly hear the way that mother talked about me with absolute disgust.

"We've tried everything—games, toys, even therapy!" She then scratches her hair with utter frustration. "But nothing changed! He never smiles, never cries. He only sits there, reading those impossible books... Why can't he just be normal?!"

My mother continued to rant about me towards my father, crying on his shoulder as if my existence only showed despair to them.

"Don't worry, we can always try again."

As I continued to eavesdrop on their conversation, I could hear them saying how they wanted another child that was not me. How cruel of them to abandon their child for another one.

But even so... I continued to feel empty.

It was at the age of around two and a half... That my mother gave birth to twins. One boy and one girl.

I remembered looking through the glass window. They snuggled warmly into their cribs. So cute and adorable.

As I looked closer, the size of their body was remarkable to see... just how can a human grow so big from a size this small?

I... thought that at this moment, I was finally going to experience my first emotion: Hatred.

They were going to replace me, and my parents were going to abandon me. That's the same though that went over my head over and over again.

Yes... That's what I initially thought.

But... After seeing their faces that showed abstinence towards the world they were just born in, I knew I could not blame them for this petty reason.

When I saw their smiling faces, I felt my chest warming up, my mouth slightly curving up.

As I looked up to stare at my own reflection through the window, I saw my own face smiling.

Rather than hatred, my first emotion was happiness.

I don't understand... Why am I feeling happy?

I kept trying to reject this feeling, but... I wanted to enjoy this warmth.

This feeling... for some reason, it puts me at ease… For the first time, my eyes opened out of that grey world that I always lived in. It was filled with color and warmth. It was something that I wanted to continue feeling…

But it only lasted for a moment. My father walked towards me. Once I saw him, my world became gray and empty just like before.

"We finally have children that will be normal, I don't want you to fill their heads with craziness just like you. So, start acting like a normal child."

I see… so what they wanted me to do was simply play pretend. I needed to start acting like a lovable brother, and hide my true self so we could become a perfect family to the outside world.

But to be able to do that, I needed to actually show emotions, even if they're fake. Expressing emotions to these people when I can't even feel them myself was an impossible feat for me.

But... It was the first favor that my parents have asked of me.

"If I do this, they'll start trusting me more..."

I said that aloud, hoping to gaslight myself into thinking it's true.

I quickly began to read books to accomplish this goal. I thought that by studying emotions and acting, I could show them something—even if it was fake.

Yes... words upon words, manual after manual. I watched the people's faces as they walked past me on the road, trying to remember every single moment in their face that showed happiness, anger, or sadness…

It took such a long time to create this perfect facade. But in the end, I finally created a new me with emotions so real... yet so fake. I created this perfect impression of a dependable brother for my siblings as per my father's wish.

As they smiled brightly at me whenever we hung out, I would respond to it with a forced one. It was such a simple facial movement, but... For some reason, there seems to be a sort of stinging sensation in my heart...

Every time I see them happy, my heart aches, my body turns cold, and I avoid their eyes. It felt wrong to see them this happy for someone that is acting.

Yes... that is when I noticed, this is what they call guilt... An emotion that brings negative meaning to oneself, and hurts the person mentally as they did something wrong...

My first memory of guilt... was truly unpleasant…

But I don't understand… Just why am I feeling guilty? Is it because I continue to lie to them about who I was…?

Despite this awful feeling... I thought that my parents would start feeling some sort of gratitude for fulfilling this favor, that they will finally accept me for who I am.

Naive.

Even after all this time of finally showing this facade, they remained distant towards me as they did when I was a child, showing even more signs of hatred and disgust than when I was child.

How ironic... Even when they continued to reject me out of their lives, I still didn't express any sadness, or anger. 

That's when I realized...

"Maybe... I should give up on earning my parents love, and earn my siblings..."

Even if it's fake, I wanted to continue showing these emotions to them. If I can make them happy with my facade, then I can finally serve a purpose in this world.

So, to achieve this goal, I decided to read more books about such topics.

The more I read, the better I understood the subtle needs of my siblings. The more time I spent with them, the more I felt the need to be around them, and the more I felt pleased by them being with me.

It was my only gateway from this grey world.

Before I knew it, I had already graduated college with a master's degree at the age of fourteen. They considered me a prodigy.

A human who knows everything and acquires knowledge with ease. People thought that my parents and siblings were proud of my accomplishments. But it was clear that these accomplishments made my parents hate me more.

"A child like you could not even make their parents happy with a simple smile. What makes you think this will?"

"Knowledge is only worth celebrating to those who know how to use it. Obviously, that does not pertain to you."

I get that these types of words would normally hurt a person... but to me, they were just... words.

Yes... that's what I keep telling myself to think...

But shortly after graduating, I began feeling weaker and weaker.

My body started giving up on me and would constantly make me feel dreary. I went to the doctor to see what was going on. Sitting in the office, looking down at my chair to see what my verdict is.

"It seems that you have cancer, and at the late fourth stage no less. We can hospitalize you and try to slow down the process, but..."

"..."

Cancer... I thought so.

No, maybe not... I did feel like it was a serious illness due to the symptoms, but it was more serious than I thought.

"... I see..."

They cannot cure me, it was inevitable. I rarely took care of my body, so this wasn't a shocking matter.

But why does my heartache about the thought of me dying and leaving my siblings behind...?

The doctors soon hospitalized me and began my treatment, leading to the present.

But I refused to let my illness keep me at bay as I waited for false hope. I began reading, and reading, and reading...

I tried to fill my head with all the world's knowledge to ensure that there could be life in this broken body till the very end.

Reading was my only way to know the world around me. It had the answers to every question I had, and the lessons to everything I wanted to learn. It made me comprehend this cruel world that made me so... different.

Every day and night, I would continue to read any books to help me understand the values that this cruel world is built upon.

But countless days of just flipping through countless random books just didn't uphold me any sort of justice anymore.

Why should I continue to read when death is near? What sort of knowledge will help me realize the cruel thing I already know about myself? What new things will help me become a real human being?

I soon gave up on the idea of attaining knowledge, and simply had no other thing to do, other than to look outside the hospital window with my lifeless eye. Looking at all the people and cars that travel by, seeing the infinite faces and expressions that I can never replicate, even if I try....

Waiting for the darkness to engulf me—and then maybe I can sleep eternally... and not be a bother anymore.

All alone...