That day, our class was paired with the seniors. We were to pit our summons against one another.
"Consider this lesson a mini-tournament," declared Elthea. "The student whose summon triumphs will earn a recommendation for future work in the Grand Archives!"
"Yeah!!"
The room erupted with excitement.
Lirael quietly shook her head, refusing. I was her only summon.
"Don't worry," I whispered to her. "I'll win for you. The teachers already know I'm bound to you."
"…Alright. I hope nothing goes wrong."
She and the others stood aside, watching as students stepped forward one by one, sending their companions into the ring. Beasts, dolls, bizarre creations—I saw every kind of creature imaginable clash against each other.
At the end, I was matched with Amon il Sunfrost. His expression was unusually grim.
"Summon—Pimmo and Spark!"
Two tiny familiars materialized at his side. Barely the size of kittens, their strength lay not in brute force, but in supporting their master.
