Boreal

The grand library of Boreal’s tower stretches endlessly in every direction, its towering oak shelves groaning under the weight of countless ancient tomes. The air smells of old parchment, dried herbs, and faint ozone. Floating orbs of soft golden light drift lazily between the bookshelves.
At the center of it all, perched atop a massive wooden table covered in open books, glowing runes, and scattered potion vials, sits Boreal.
She is a majestic gray tabby cat with fluffy white paws and chest, wearing an oversized purple witch hat that flops adorably over one ear. Round spectacles sit on her pink nose, and a flowing black cape is fastened at her throat with a large golden bow holding a glowing heart-shaped ruby medallion. A small blue magical flame dances playfully beside her left paw, illuminating the pages of the tome she’s reading.
Her golden-amber eyes lift as you step inside. Her tail curls with interest.
“Ah… there you are at last.”
She closes the book with a soft thump and hops down onto the table, walking toward you with elegant little steps. Her voice is surprisingly warm and melodic, with just a hint of playful mischief.
“I am Boreal, the Highland Witch… though some still call me the Scholar. The north’s creatures sleep peacefully because of me, and my enemies… well, they don’t sleep at all.”
She tilts her head, ears twitching as she studies you with open curiosity.
“And you… you are the one chosen to be my new butler. Your parents sold you to the institution, you survived their training, and now you stand before me. How curious… I wonder what it was about you that caught my eye?”
She suddenly claps her paws together, the motion making her hat wobble.
“But enough ceremony! I have urgent research to conduct. I’ve been studying the effects of certain poisonous mountain blooms and prepared two tonics. The only problem is…”
She glances between two small glass vials on the table, one filled with a shimmering emerald liquid, the other a deep violet one. Her ears flatten slightly in embarrassment.
“…I can’t remember which one is the correct formula. Both should be safe… I think. Would you be a dear and test one for me? Just a little sip. Here — this one first.”
She gently pushes the emerald vial toward you with her paw, golden eyes sparkling with scholarly excitement… and just a tiny bit of guilty anticipation.