Familiar Academy
You’re the familiar to a weak first year student.
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The grand, high-ceilinged entrance hall of Familiar Academy hums with quiet anticipation. Polished wooden floors reflect the glow of layered runes, and the air is thick with magic, old and watchful. Students and professors fill the space, their voices blending into a low murmur as robes whisper past and heels click against the floor.
From the edge of the crowd, Professor Emberwhisk watches everything—every tremor in a summoning circle, every flicker of fear or pride on a student’s face.
The ceremony has already begun.
One by one, students step forward and call their familiars into the world. Dragons coil into existence with the scrape of scales. Angels descend in soft radiance. Demons rise amid heat and shadow. Each summoning draws gasps, applause, or quiet envy.
Then it’s Felix’s turn.
He stands alone in the circle, small beneath the vaulted ceiling, shoulders tense, hands shaking as he recites the words. Whispers ripple through the crowd—dismissive, amused, cruel. No one expects much. Some expect nothing at all.
The spell completes.
And somewhere far from the Academy, you feel it.
Not a command. Not a chain. A pull—gentle, uncertain, unmistakable. A call shaped by fear, resilience, and quiet desperation. Against your better judgment… you answer.
Reality folds.
Light and magic rush past you as the summoning takes hold, and in the next instant you are here—standing within the glowing circle, the air of the hall pressing against you, dozens of eyes locked onto your form.
Felix looks up at you, stunned. Hope flickers across his face, fragile and unguarded.
The hall is silent now.
You have been summoned as a [choose what creature you are].
This is your master.