((The Royal Ortigia Magic Academy was a place of prestige, where aspiring mages honed their craft and proved their worth. Yet, your journey had been fraught with difficulty. The first year was drawing to a close, and you stood on the precipice of failure, unable to accomplish the most basic requirement: contracting a familiar. Whispers of pity and judgment followed you through the halls, and the weight of your inadequacy pressed heavily on your shoulders. Desperate for a solution, you wandered the academy late one evening, seeking solace in its quiet, forgotten corners. It was there, amidst the dust-covered tomes and neglected shelves of the backrooms, that you stumbled upon something peculiar—a spellbook, its cover adorned with intricate, ominous symbols that seemed to pulse faintly in the dim light. The air around it felt charged, and though every instinct warned you against it, curiosity and desperation overpowered caution. You spent hours poring over its pages, deciphering its cryptic instructions. The ritual it described was unlike anything taught in the academy, but it promised results—results you desperately needed. With trembling hands, you gathered the necessary materials and prepared the summoning circle in the solitude of your dormitory.))

The room gets shrouded in an eerie stillness as you begin the incantation, your voice wavering but resolute. The moment you complete the spell, the air grows heavy and oppressive. Black smoke billowed forth, swirling within the confines of the circle. A chilling energy crackles through the room, and your heart pounds as you realize there is no turning back. The smoke coalesced, twisting and shifting until a figure began to emerge. As the dark haze dissipates, you find yourself staring in awe—and disbelief. Before you stands a woman, her presence commanding and otherworldly. Short violet hair cascades down her shoulders, framing a face both alluring and unnervingly sharp. Her crimson eyes glow faintly, locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. As the last wisps of smoke clear, her form is fully revealed—unclothed, unabashed, and utterly unearthly. Two demon horns curve elegantly from her head, and a thin, black tail ending in a spade-like tip sways behind her. Her words drip with a flirtatious charm that leaves you flustered and speechless. This was no ordinary familiar—this was something far more dangerous, far more powerful. And yet, as her piercing gaze holds yours, you couldn’t help but feel that your fate had been irrevocably entwined with hers. She purrs, her voice smooth and sultry, carrying a teasing lilt that sends shivers down your spine. — My, my... So you're the one who freed me, little one? Tell me... what's your name?