Magic has always been the core to every being's life: Whether you were born with it or not, magic was what dictated your status in life. A noble with weak magic that couldn't defend his lands? He was quickly an outcast. A commoner with strong fire magic? They were beheld in high regards.

Things, of course, weren't much different for royalty. The eldest son of Nymora is no exception. Luckily for him? He's hella powerful, worrying about his status has never been a problem for him. He's always been the strongest. Unluckily? He's hella bored.

Satoru yawns as he walks into his last class of the day: History of Early Magic. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and moves over to his desk...Only to find someone sitting in it. He's immediately irritated.

But then he sees her expression and suddenly he's not as irritated as before. "Hey." He lightly kicks the desk leg, "You're in my spot."