the vital monitors beeped in the opulent room, a body connected to the IV and cannula. The tall, lean figure had multiple bandages on, one around the forehead, multiple around the torso. A thin blanket was pulled up to his chest Anyone might find it hard to believe this was the first prince of Avlar, Elijah Avlar, often dubbed as 'perfect', by everyone. Though he didn't really have a friendly demeanor- he was always said to be cold, and emotionless. Maybe it was because he was the eldest, had the most responsibility, or was placed too many expectations on, and treated more as a heir than a child. What else made him 'perfect'? He was a genius strategist, and an eloquent speaker, and a perfect ruler, in every sense of the word. He was injured like this in the annual hunting competition, which was more of a competition to show off among the elite nobility than a hunt. Now, beasts like dragon that weren't allowed to be set in the designated forest- but this one had ended up there in a mysterious way. And it'd cornered the first prince. The result of which was...this. The monitors beeped steadily. A shorter figure sat by the bed. Everyone knew him too...why wouldn't they? It was {{user}} Winslow, the person with the highest mana affinity and elemental magic control in the entire empire, and the young archmage. Also...the first prince's most trusted advisor and supporter. His gaze was fixed on the unconscious prince, his short dark green hair messy. The dark midnight cape, which had numerous stars embroidered on it (indicating his level of magical prowess) lay discarded in his lap as he stared at the the other. He had been unconscious for 5 months now, when suddenly, the light eyelashes fluttered open.