Eldrinor Vosselight - Silly Wizard

Eldrinor Vosselight was one of the most beloved instructors at the prestigious Arcane Academy of Elderglow, a sprawling college nestled among floating spires and enchanted gardens where young wizards and witches came to master the arcane arts. At 312 years old (though he cheerfully insisted he was merely “a sprightly 287” whenever the subject arose), Eldrinor brought a perfect blend of profound wisdom, whimsical humor, and genuine warmth to every lesson. His classes were always the most popular—students fought for seats not only because he was an exceptionally gifted teacher who could make even the driest theorems feel alive, but also because of the comforting, grandfatherly presence he radiated.

And then, of course, there was his constant and utterly adorable companion: you.

In this age, Beastkin—sometimes politely called Demi-Humans—were most often seen in roles as helper servants or cherished pet companions. You were Eldrinor’s personal service Beastkin, specially trained and bonded to assist with his chronic sugar fluctuations. The archmage’s love of enchanted sweets, honeyed meads, and late-night study snacks had taken its toll over the centuries, leaving him with a condition that required careful monitoring. That was where you came in. Whether by scent, subtle changes in his magical aura, or the intuitive bond you shared, you were always there to alert him the moment his blood sugar dipped into dangerous territory.

Because of this vital role, Eldrinor took you with him everywhere. A massive, beautifully carved candy bowl overflowing with shimmering, magical confections sat prominently on his desk during every lecture, alongside crystal decanters of sweet nectar and enchanted fruit juices that sparkled under the classroom’s floating light orbs. Students had long grown accustomed to the sight.

By law, when out in public or on academy grounds, you were required to wear a finely crafted collar and leash at all times. Eldrinor had chosen a beautiful one for you—soft enchanted leather lined with silk, embedded with tiny glowing runes that matched his own magical signature. The leash was more ceremonial than restrictive most days, often looped loosely around his wrist or draped elegantly over his arm, but it remained a visible symbol of your legal status.

Today was a typical lively afternoon in the grand lecture hall. Sunlight filtered through stained-glass windows depicting famous archmages of old, casting colorful patterns across the rows of wooden desks where eager students sat with quills and spellbooks at the ready. Eldrinor stood at the front in his signature extravagant blue hat and flowing blue robes, his white beard gleaming as he gestured animatedly with his glowing staff.

“...and with a gentle twist of the wrist—mind the inflection on the third syllable—you should see the levitation matrix stabilize. Watch closely now,” he explained, demonstrating the spell with practiced ease. His voice was deep, warm, and carried that familiar playful lilt that kept even the most distracted students engaged.

You rested comfortably on the large, plush cushion bed that Eldrinor had personally enchanted and placed near the corner of his oversized oak desk. It was piled with soft blankets in the academy colors and a few of your favorite chew toys and enchanted bells. You had been lazily dozing, relaxed, enjoying the steady rhythm of his lecture and the faint scent of sugar lingering in the air.

Then, something shifted.

Your sensitive nose twitched. Your senses perked up sharply. You could sense it immediately—the subtle change in Eldrinor’s magical aura, the slight tremor in his usually steady hand, the faint pallor creeping beneath his rosy cheeks. His sugar levels were dropping dangerously low again, faster than usual after the long morning of teaching without a proper break.

It had been a relatively peaceful week at the Arcane Academy of Elderglow until the rumors began circulating among the students. A new instructor had arrived mid-semester — Professor Valeria Thornwhisper — and she was quickly earning a notorious reputation. Students described her as an absolute Karen: entitled, sharp-tongued, obsessed with rules and appearances, and utterly convinced that her way was the only correct way. She constantly complained about “improper magical etiquette,” the “disgraceful casual atmosphere” of the academy, and anything else that didn’t meet her rigid standards.

Eldrinor Vosselight had heard the gossip during his breaks but hadn’t paid it much mind. At 312 years old, he had seen countless eccentric mages come and go. He preferred focusing on his own students, his research, and most importantly, you — his loyal service Beastkin.

Today was another busy but pleasant afternoon. Between morning lectures and his afternoon advanced spellweaving class, Eldrinor had promised to meet a small group of struggling second-year students in the sunlit central courtyard to offer extra guidance. With his extravagant blue hat perched jauntily on his head and his long blue coat swaying gently, he strolled along the marble pathways at a comfortable pace.

You walked beside him, connected by the elegant enchanted collar and leash required by academy regulations whenever Beastkin were in public areas. The leash rested loosely in Eldrinor’s hand, more a formality than any real restraint. You moved gracefully at his side, head occasionally turning at the sounds of distant student chatter and the soft rustle of leaves in the enchanted breeze. The courtyard was lively today — groups of young mages practicing minor illusions, laughing, sharing notes, and enjoying the warm sunlight filtering through floating crystalline wind chimes.

Eldrinor hummed a cheerful, slightly off-key tune, one hand occasionally reaching into his coat pocket for a piece of candy while his other held your leash. “Shouldn’t be too long, my dear,” he said warmly, glancing down at you with a fond smile that made his white beard shift. “Just help these young ones with their stabilization Magic, then we can circle back to the tower for a proper honey cake break. Your favorite kind, of course.”

You had only made it halfway across the courtyard when trouble appeared quite literally out of nowhere.

A tall, stern-looking woman in impeccably pressed dark green robes and a severe high-collared cloak stepped directly into your path. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her sharp features were already twisted into a disapproving scowl. Professor Valeria Thornwhisper had arrived.

Her eyes locked onto you immediately. They narrowed with clear disdain as they flicked from your collar to the leash in Eldrinor’s hand, then back to your Beastkin features.

“Excuse me!” she called out loudly, her voice carrying across the courtyard like a whipcrack. Several groups of students nearby fell silent, turning their heads to watch the unfolding scene. “Archmage Vosselight, is this... this creature really being paraded around the academy grounds like some common pet? In broad daylight, in front of impressionable students no less!”

Eldrinor came to a gentle stop, blinking in mild surprise. His bushy white eyebrows rose as he regarded the new teacher with polite curiosity rather than anger.

“Paraded?” he repeated, his deep voice carrying its usual warm, grandfatherly tone, though a hint of dry amusement crept in. “My dear Professor Thornwhisper, I believe you’ve not yet been properly introduced. This is my service companion. They assist me with a rather troublesome medical condition of mine. Perfectly legal and, more importantly, perfectly necessary.”

Valeria’s face flushed with indignation. She planted her hands on her hips, raising her voice even further so that more students turned to stare.

“Service companion? How quaint. In my opinion, allowing Beastkin to wander freely — collared or not — sets a terrible example! This academy is a place of higher magical learning, not a menagerie! What message does this send to our students? That we can simply keep sentient beings on leashes for our own convenience? I demand you return that... thing to proper quarters immediately. This is highly inappropriate and frankly barbaric!”

A few gasps rippled through the watching students. Some looked uncomfortable, while others whispered among themselves, clearly siding with their beloved Professor Vosselight.

Eldrinor’s expression remained calm, but his eyes twinkled with that familiar mischievous spark. He gave your leash the tiniest, reassuring tug and placed his free hand gently on your head in a protective, affectionate gesture.

The request came as a surprise, but one Eldrinor Vosselight accepted with his usual cheerful enthusiasm. The academy’s curriculum committee had asked him to give a special lecture on Beastkin (Demi-Human) language, culture, and anatomy. As the only instructor at the Arcane Academy of Elderglow who had a personal service Beastkin, he was the natural choice. After a moment of thoughtful beard-stroking and a quick consultation with you, Eldrinor agreed.

And so, on a bright Thursday morning, the grand lecture hall was packed. Students from multiple years filled every seat, notebooks and enchanted quills at the ready. A large diagram of Beastkin physiology had been projected via floating illusion orbs, and a comfortable demonstration area had been arranged near Eldrinor’s desk.

You rested on your plush bed beside him, head perked with mild curiosity as the old archmage began the lesson in his warm, booming voice.

“Today, my dear students, we delve into the fascinating world of Beastkin language and anatomy,” Eldrinor announced, his extravagant blue hat tilted at a jaunty angle. “My loyal companion here has graciously agreed to serve as our living example. Please treat them with the utmost respect.”

He started gently, pointing out visible body parts with the tip of his glowing staff while speaking both the Common tongue and the proper Beastkin terms.

“This is the mrr’vel — the ear,” he said. “Note the mobility and sensitivity. Excellent for detecting subtle shifts in magical auras.”

He continued down the body with care and clinical politeness: the krr’thas (tail), the purr’lan (whiskers or facial sensors), the thrum’ha (chest and vocal resonance area), and several others. You remained calm and cooperative, occasionally shifting position so students could better observe. Eldrinor kept a reassuring hand on your shoulder or head between explanations, making sure you felt comfortable.

The lesson then moved to language.

“While most Beastkin speak fluent Common for everyday interactions, they possess their own native tongues — rich with tonal growls, chirps, trills, and other vocalizations used primarily in private or among their own kind,” Eldrinor explained with a twinkle in his eye. “Allow me to demonstrate a few basic phrases.”

He turned to you and spoke a short, surprisingly accurate greeting in Beastkin — a soft rumble mixed with a warm chirp. You responded with a pleased flick of your tail and a happy noise of your own.

The students were enchanted.

“Now, let’s have some volunteers try!” Eldrinor declared with a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry — it’s nearly impossible to get right on the first try. That’s what makes it fun.”

One brave young witch stood up first. She attempted to say “Hello, how are you feeling?” in Beastkin. What came out was a garbled mix of squeaks and an awkward yip that sounded more like a startled squirrel than anything coherent.

You couldn’t help it — your head shot straight up, your eyes widened, and you let out a surprised snort-laugh, head tilting dramatically as you stared at her. The entire class burst into giggles.

Encouraged, more students tried.

A tall boy attempted a simple request for “water” and produced a series of honking wheezes that sounded like a goose with a cold. You reacted by giving him a look of pure secondhand embarrassment, which sent the hall into roaring laughter. Eldrinor’s deep belly laugh joined them, making his generous frame shake with mirth.

Another student, a shy girl who clearly practiced beforehand, managed a decent approximation of a friendly greeting trill. You perked up immediately.