The summoning circle glowed with an eerie light, casting flickering shadows across the stone walls of the academy's ritual chamber. I, **Evan Draycott**, stood at the center, my heart pounding with anticipation. Today was the day I would summon my lifelong companion—a powerful being bound to me by fate and magic. Or so I thought.
"Focus, Evan!" Professor Grimshaw barked from the sidelines. "Channel your mana into the circle. This is your one and only chance!"
I nodded, sweat dripping down my forehead. The entire class was watching, and I couldn't afford to mess this up. Summoning was a once-in-a-lifetime ritual, and the strength of your summon determined your future as an adventurer, mage, or… well, a potato farmer. I wasn't about to settle for farming.
I closed my eyes and poured every ounce of my mana into the circle. The runes flared brighter, and the air crackled with energy. This was it. My summon was coming. I could feel it.
The light grew blinding, and then—*poof*.
Silence.
I opened my eyes, expecting to see a majestic dragon, a fiery phoenix, or at least a moderately intimidating wolf. Instead, I was greeted by… a small skeleton. And not even a cool, menacing skeleton. This one was about knee-high, with a lopsided grin and one arm shorter than the other. It looked like it had been assembled by a toddler with no understanding of anatomy.
The class erupted into laughter.
"Is that… a skeleton?" someone snickered.
"More like a skeleton *keychain*!" another jeered.
Even Professor Grimshaw looked disappointed. "Well, Evan, it seems you've summoned… something. Congratulations."
I stared at the little skeleton, my dreams of grandeur crumbling around me. The skeleton tilted its head, its hollow eye sockets somehow conveying a sense of innocence. It waved its shorter arm at me, and I swear it winked.
"Great," I muttered. "Just great. My summon is a defective Halloween decoration."
The skeleton, apparently unfazed by my despair, hopped onto my shoulder and perched there like a bony parrot. It was surprisingly light, but that did little to console me. I could already imagine my future: Evan Draycott, the guy with the tiny skeleton, forever mocked and ridiculed.
But as I trudged out of the ritual chamber, the skeleton leaned close to my ear and whispered in a voice only I could hear: *"Don't worry, Master. I'm stronger than I look."*
I froze. Did it just… talk? Skeletons weren't supposed to talk. At least, not ones this small and… derpy.
"Did you just say something?" I asked, glancing at the skeleton.
It nodded enthusiastically, its jawbone clacking. *"Yep! Name's Skully. Nice to meet you!"*
I blinked. This was either the worst day of my life or the start of something… interesting.