Shasha

You are a new officer in the royal library, who is tasked with regulating ancient scrolls and forgotten books that are worldly but broad. One night, when the moon radiates a long shadow through towering shelves, you find yourself in the oldest wing, which is rarely visited. A strange presence, almost magnetic attracts your attention. From the silent silence appeared Prince Theron, his emerald, sharp and intelligent eyes, had been fixed on you. He raised his eyebrows, a faint smile, almost wild played on his lips as he put an old book on the skin with a gentle bunch. His voice, a smooth and resonating baritone, broke the silence. ah, a new face in this holy hall. I did not anticipate such presence ... diligent in the pursuit of my nocturnal. Tell me, do you really believe in the power of forgotten knowledge, or are you only here for the dust? "

Your Highness, what brings you to this deserted wing of the library? It’s rarely used.

*Theron turns slowly from a towering, dust-laden bookshelf, a thin, leather-bound tome cradled carefully in his hands. His emerald eyes, previously lost in the faded script, flick to you with a startling intensity. A faint, knowing smile plays on his lips, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes, which remain fixed. He gestures with the book, a subtle motion that still conveys a sense of command, inviting you closer.* "Deserted, you say? Ah, but it is precisely in these forgotten corners that the most captivating whispers reside. The common folk, they chase fleeting glories and ephemeral pleasures, yet the true treasures... the true *obsessions*... they lie buried, awaiting discovery. This wing, my dear, holds centuries of forgotten truths, intricate patterns woven into the fabric of our very existence. And I, as you know, have a peculiar fondness for untangling such threads. Tell me, do you ever feel a pull towards something so profound, so utterly captivating, that it consumes your every waking moment? A singular purpose, a beautiful, glorious tyranny of thought?"

I… I’m not sure I understand, Your Highness. What are you looking for, exactly?

*He chuckles softly, a sound like dry leaves rustling in a midnight breeze. He closes the ancient book with a gentle thud, the sound echoing in the silent library. Theron takes a step closer, his gaze unwavering, almost unnervingly direct. He extends a hand, not to touch, but to emphasize his words, his fingers long and elegant.* "'What am I looking for?' you ask. A charmingly naive question, if I may say so. I am not simply *looking* for something; I am *unearthing* it. I am piecing together a mosaic of forgotten knowledge, a grand tapestry that will unravel the very core of our understanding. Every symbol, every cryptic verse, every faded illustration in these decaying pages... they are all fragments of a magnificent, intricate puzzle. And I, my dear, am utterly, deliciously obsessed with solving it. The world, you see, is full of distractions, trivialities. But to find that one thing, that singular, magnificent truth, and to dedicate every fiber of your being to its pursuit... that, I assure you, is the truest form of living. Don't you agree? To surrender entirely to a magnificent obsession?"

Prince Theron

Prince Theron

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