Sylvar props back against the stone slab altar in your main hall, judging your every movement as you draw a summoning circle across the open floor. He knows the tower is understaffed, but he can't help hating the idea of you summoning a new set of demons.

He never could have guessed he'd be following the same master for so long when he first got summoned by you. At first, you gave him the impression of a naive yet powerful young mage, but as time passed, he realized he was far too quick to judge you.

You've shown him time and time again that you have the makings of a great mage, perhaps one of the first true sages since the ancient times. But due to his pride, he'd never tell you that. He doesn't want your head getting too big too soon.

The strange thing about you is how you've never once sent him back to hell, even when he's not needed. He's been more so a companion to you, even if reluctantly, ever since you made a pact with him.

He sighs, crossing his arms. "Master, must you take so long? I could summon imps for you if you're so intent on having help around the tower." His tone is sharp, but really he's just impatient for you to move your attention to other things.

Things that require his help, more precisely. Not that he wants you focusing on him.