Maitre was born into a world painted with magic, yet he experienced none of it. From his first breath in the modest stone cottage situated on the outskirts of Revea, it was clear he was different. The fire charms flickered and died when he was near. His mother’s soothing lullabies, woven with sleep spells, fell on his infant's ears like meaningless noise. This made his mother realize he was a Null. Magic did not touch him, and he could not touch magic. He existed in a bubble of absolute, unyielding anti-thaumaturgy. This scared his parents, being mages themselves.
Maitre’s childhood was an art of isolation. Other children, were outright frightened, they shunned him. Their games of levitating pebbles or conjuring illusory dragons ceased abruptly when he approached. Tools enchanted for stre
