The Conciege
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August Intruder- Chapter 142- Binding Vow
🕑 Added 2025-06-02 12:10:23 +0000 UTCMelmarc stared at the notification.
[You are about to enter into a contract with ????]
[???? Has used Authority Binding Vow]
He was confused about two things. One of them was something he could figure out if he put his mind to it. After all, it was kind of self-explanatory. The other was less self-explanatory.
“Can I ask two questions before we start?” he said.
Uncle Dorthna remained silent, giving him the space to ask his questions.
“Don’t worry about it, dear,” his mother said before he could ask. “A binding vow is nothing dangerous. It’s like a skill. It just makes sure that both parties keep to their agreements.”
Melmarc was happy to know that he had been in the correct ballpark on that one. Still, with that answered, it had generated another question.
Uncle Dorthna raised a brow. “You’ve still got two questions, don’t you?”
Melmarc nodded sheepishly.
His uncle shrugged while Ark waited patiently on his bed. Spitfire had climbed the bed at some point and was now playing with his hand like a puppy. Ark was more than happy to engage it.
“Go on,” Uncle Dorthna said, spurring him on.
Melmarc's phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it. “What’s an authority?”
His mother opened her mouth only to find herself short of words. She pursed her lips sheepishly in the obvious realization that she didn’t know the answer to it. For a moment it had looked as if she was supposed to know it.
“It’s like establishing dominance for Oaths,” his uncle explained.
His mother paused. “Oh. I guess I was right.”
Their uncle looked at her and did one of the most adult to child expressions Melmarc had ever seen. He sucked his lips in and took a calming sigh. Melmarc could just see him wanting to say more while stopping himself because they were in front of her children.
He wondered how exactly his uncle treated his mother in private whenever she said something he thought didn’t make sense.
“So, Oaths can use authority,” Melmarc said.
“No. Oaths are designations of the world. What they use is the authority of the world that they can handle based on the concept that they embody. What I use is the authority of myself based on how much of myself I can handle. and understand. And yes, you and Ark will be able to do it one day,” he added, preempting Melmarc’s question. “Just think of it like using up your own [EP], not the one you get from others.”
“Oh.” It was all Melmarc could say. So authority was like pieces of him?
“What’s the next question?” his uncle asked.
“Oh, that.” Melmarc paused. “Why does my interface always read you as question marks?”
His mother nodded. “That is a good question.”
“It’s because I’m a known unknown,” uncle Dorthna answered. “Mana and, let's say Existence, knows me but not what I am.”
“That’s some flexing right there,” Ark chuckled, his attention still on Spitfire who had decided to be a fun puppy instead of a demon right now.
Uncle Dorthna shrugged in response to his comment.
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way,” he said. “Let’s lay down a few rules. I will not make anyone fall in love with you. I will not raise the dead. I will not speed up or increase your growth potential. And I will not affect situations surrounding the larger cosmos such as events related directly or indirectly to portals.”
That was enough to make Ark raise his head. “Sounds like a genie.” His brows furrowed. “Are you a genie?”
Uncle Dorthna looked back at him. “If I’m a genie then you’re the first-born daughter of the Lockwoods.”
Ark smiled, looking back down at Spitfire. “I bet I could rock a wig,” he muttered with a half-smile. “Rock it real good.”
Melmarc laughed a little while Uncle Dorthna looked at their mother.
“What?” she said with a shrug. “You spend almost as much time with him as me. I don’t understand where he gets half the things he says either.”
Shaking his head, Uncle Dorthna returned his attention to Melmarc. “The binding vow also comes at a cost. As long as I continue to uphold my end of the bargain in good faith, you will not be able to renege on your end of the bargain. Now, let’s start with three requests. If they are sufficient, then that’s it. If they are not, then you get a few more.”
Ark leapt off his bed, abandoning a stunned Spitfire, and plopped down on Melmarc’s. “Does he get outside advice?”
“He does.”
Ark grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Awesome.”
“I worry for the kind of advice you’ll give.”
“This is not a request, just a curious question,” he said. “But can you give Ninra powers?”
Melmarc agreed that it was a reasonable question.
“I can’t make her Gifted, not right now. But yes, I can give her powers. She certainly won’t be happy with it and that’s enough to motivate me not to.”
Ark had a look of mischief in his eyes. He said nothing, though.
Uncle Dorthna returned his attention to Melmarc. “Go.”
“Does training me and Ark automatically fall within the services, or do I have to bargain for those, too?”
Uncle Dorthna gave it some thought. “Anything that I already normally do for you remains. You don’t have to bargain for that one. Think up new things.”
Melmarc's phone vibrated again. He ignored it.
“Including spells and enchantments on the house?” their mother asked quickly, surprised.
“Yes, War,” he answered. “Including those.”
“And protecting Ninra?”
“That part of the agreement has already expired. All your children are of age.”
“First request,” Melmarc said, jumping on it. “Protect Ninra.”
“And her spouse and children,” Ark added. “When she has a spouse and children.”
“I can do the same for her descendants, if you’ll like.”
They paused.
Melmarc's phone vibrated again. He wondered if it was still Pelumi texting him or if someone else had joined. The urge to check was heavily overwhelmed by the importance of the moment.
“All of them?” their mother asked.
Uncle Dorthna shrugged. “Only those that retain the Lockwood name.”
“Doesn’t seem very fair,” Ark said. “That means you won’t protect the women.”
“Why not… Oh.” Their uncle sighed. “What’s with you people and the women adopting the men’s name? I mean, you can just keep your name and still be married.”
“Then who’s name will the kids take?”
“In a case like this, wouldn’t the mother’s name be the correct answer? Think about it. It’s the name with the real weight.” Uncle Dorthna said it as if it made all the sense. “It’s part of the reason great families in the wider cosmos create sects and dynasties and things like that. Even if you marry their daughter, you get to have their name or keep yours, it’s up to you. But keeping yours removes you from certain benefits. And there are actual benefits to the name. Personally, I think it would be stupid if she marries a man that knows this, and he still insists that she take his name.”
“Wait, if that happens, does she still keep the protection?” Melmarc asked.
Uncle Dorthna nodded. “Her and her kids. Deal?”
“For protecting her and her kids and every of her descendant that keeps the Lockwood last name,” their mother clarified.
“Why don’t we do bloodline?” Ark suggested. “Every descendant that has blood ties to her.”
Their uncle shook his head. “Doesn’t work like that. Blood ties fall under bloodline rules. And those only apply up to a certain percentage. For someone like the both of you, your descendants can have a very high percentage for a very long time. For Ninra, it kind of fizzles out by the third or fourth generation. I’d advise sticking with family name. Gives you more control.”
“Why?” their mother asked.
He gave her a puzzled look. “Well, because—”
“No.” She waved her hand about in a polite fashion, cutting him short. “Not the bloodline thing or the name thing. Why are you going so far? I remember how hard it was when their father and I went into ours. You offered no help, no suggestions, no explanations. We got a few requests and that was it, then you matched our requests to the price. Then we had to start shaving off some of the requests to bring down the price.”
“Because you weren’t important,” Uncle Dorthna said matter-of-factly. “You were two Oaths of no import. I simply took a liking to Madness. Melmarc over here is of much import to me.”
[Hope of the ????], Melmarc thought in realization.
“Hope,” he muttered.
Uncle Dorthna pointed at him in confirmation. “Hope. Also,” he added for their mother’s sake. “Your worry is justified, because the price is already fixed. So, protecting Ninra’s descendant’s carrying the Lockwood name or bloodline, which one?”
“Bloodline,” Ark suggested. “By the time it’s too diluted, we won’t really care about those ones. Think about it. Who cares about their great, great, great grand kids?”
“You and Mel will probably be alive to see far more than those, though,” Uncle Dorthna pointed out.
Ark snorted in nonchalance. “Doesn’t matter. By that time they’d be so scattered about that I won’t even be able to keep track of who is who. I mean,” he looked at their mother, “do you know or are you close to anyone that shares the same great, great, great grandmother with you? or even dad?”
Melmarc winced. Sometimes Ark could be very blunt, a little too blunt. It didn’t come from a bad place, just a… he wasn’t sure how exactly to explain it.
In the end, their mother sighed. “She might not care, but they will. My children will care about their children, no matter how many, and I will care about my grandchildren, just he way you’ll care about your grandchildren, just the way they will care about their grandchildren.”
Their mother was ever so patient with them when she thought that the subject was important.
“Imagine having children,” she continued, “and realizing that the ultimate protection you have enjoyed since birth stops with you. Imagine them not being protected from whatever you are protected from.”
Melmarc frowned. For all the emotions, they had to choose. They couldn’t have them both. Either bloodline or name. His mother was right that if you loved your children, then you would love their children because they loved their children and on and on.
He looked at Uncle Dorthna. But is it feasible?
Even if Uncle Dorthna was immortal, was it fair? Melmarc was going to be immortal someday, if he believed Uncle Dorthna, so how would he feel if he was charged with taking care of an entire bloodline for eons, for the rest of his life?
Melamrc sat forward, looking at Uncle Dorthna. That caught everybody’s attention.
“Ready to make a decision, kiddo?” their uncle asked.
Melmarc shook his head. “Are you okay with this? Like really okay with this. Are you?”
Ark and their mother grew very quiet. Melmarc was fairly certain that they had stopped thinking too.
“I mean,” he continued. “It’s a very long time. If we choose based on name, what happens if the name lives out forever? What happens if there are a lot of sons in the generation and, without having to circumvent norms, there becomes a never-ending existence of Lockwoods in the future?”
His uncle smiled. He raised his hand and placed it on Melmarc’s head. He stroked it gently.
“Ever the caring kid, aren’t you?” His smile saddened. “Life will fix that. But you should keep it for good members of the family. They’ll be deserving of that care when you're almost all powerful.”
That completely took Melmarc out of it.
“You are family.”
“This is a contract, Mel. Think of it as a business.” Uncle Dorthna took his hand from his head. “I have already decided on what I will take from you. There will be no changing or negotiating that. Even if you realize in the future that you are no longer okay with it. So… will I be protecting them by bloodline or by name?”
Melmarc frowned. “By bloodline.”
“Thrice heard and accepted,” Uncle Dorthna said abruptly. “What’s the second request.”
The mana particles around them rippled like pebbles in a small tide. Melmarc couldn't help but look around. The ripple effect moved on until it went into the walls and out.
Beside Melmarc, their mother sighed. “I would’ve said name, but your brother was right. It was just the greed of a parent. There would’ve been no winning that one. Love can be a dangerous thing. Down the line, a daughter could decide to join her husband’s family out of love and take their name or leave her family out of spite and lose the name. There was no right or wrong answer.”
“In the spirit of kindness,” Uncle Dorthna added. “Please know that I will not be protecting them from cosmic problems that they seek out. I will also not be protecting them from problems that they have the skill to deal with themselves.” He looked at their mother. “Just as I did with your children. If they fall off a tree and die, that’s on them. I’ll catch them if they do it as toddlers, but no older.”
“Natural disasters?” Melmarc asked.
“Nothing I can do if your world is trying to kill you.”
“A man with a knife?” Ark asked.
“Surviving a man with a knife is completely within your skill set. Losing only means that you didn’t use your skills properly. You could run or fight. There are options.”
“A Gifted?” Melmarc asked.
“If they are not Gifted? Sure, why not? As long as they didn’t go looking for trouble. If they kidnap your girlfriend and you go to save her, that’s entirely on you. If they kidnap you, that’s a different conversation.”
“Kind of underwhelming,” Ark muttered, his looked up at their uncle suddenly as if realizing what he’d just said. “Sorry.”
Uncle Dorthna didn’t seem bothered. “It’s not a problem. I’m negotiating to be your protector, not your god. And even your god would let you face all your problems alone. Now, on to the next one.”
“Training,” Melmarc said. It was a no-brainer.
Uncle Dorthna gave him a curious look. “Might be a bit hard considering you’ll be leaving for school designed specifically to train you in a few days,” he said after a while. “How would you explain your uncle sneaking in to meet you or you sneaking out to meet your uncle?”
“If you are as strong as we think, then we can just forego school.”
“No,” their mother disagreed vehemently. “School is important.”
When you were doomed to a life of violence and cosmic issues and fighting demi-gods, Melmarc felt like school could take a backseat to learning to defend himself.
Uncle Dorthna didn’t think so, though.
“I’ll have to agree with your mother on this one, Mel,” he said.
Ark shrugged. “What good is calculus if I’m going to be fighting demons?”
“For you, you have a point,” their uncle said. “Yours is more a path of ruler and or tyrant. Mel gets options. He can be a ruler or a leader. We should keep his options open.”
Ark grinned. “I can’t say I’m complaining about my options. But what does school have to do with Mel’s?”
“School is a play at social structure,” their uncle said. “Math and English and all that aren’t very relevant. The actual subjects don’t matter, but they help your brain think in a certain kind of way that it wouldn’t think if you didn’t learn these subjects. Think of them as brain exercise. The subjects might not be important, but the way they make your brain think will be important for other things.”
“Home schooling exists,” Ark pointed out, before Melmarc could.
“Then it robs you of society and hierarchy,” Uncle Dorthna said. “In school, you learn to associate with people and learn how to deal with people. You also grow bonds. In your school the bonds will be with your peers—equals. Even if they’ll be your peers for a limited period of time. If Melmarc wants to be a person that leads—which we know he’ll want to be—he’ll need school to learn those tricks. I can make you powerful, but I can’t make you a leader. True leadership can’t be taught, but it must be learnt. It's part of the reason you'll find schools in every civilization with any form of established heirarchy.”
Ark groaned. “There goes my get out of school quick scheme.”
Their mother smacked him lovingly upside the head.
“But the instructors there can’t make us as powerful as you can,” Melmarc pointed out as Ark rubbed his head. For some reason he also suddenly looked thoughtful and confused.
“No. But they can make you relatively strong enough to be taught by your parents who can make you relatively strong enough to be taught by me. So, how about we do this? I’ll train you two when you’re home for the holidays and teach you people things you should learnt that your instructors won’t teach you, like things about your designation and your class, respectively?”
“That sounds fair,” their mother said.
“Wait,” Ark interrupted. “I thought training us was already something that was happening. Why are we negotiating it when he said that we don’t have to?”
“He said that what’s happening now doesn’t have to be negotiated,” Melmarc answered. “But he’s not training us now, he’s supervising mom’s training when she’s not around. That he agreed to the training thing means I’m right.”
Uncle Dorthna shook his head. “Not really. I would’ve trained you within the realm of normal training since it’s what your mother can give you and it’s sufficient for this world. I accepted your offer because it would mean training you for the wider cosmos.”
“Also sounds fair,” their mother muttered.
Melmarc was inclined to agree. So was Ark.
“So, that’s two,” their uncle said. “Thrice heard and accepted. " The particles of mana around him experienced a ripple effect again. "What’s number three?”
“Protect mom and dad.”
He shook his head. “Can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Melmarc asked, his tone was a little too high.
“Because we are Oaths,” his mother said easily. “He won’t protect beyond what you are capable of. And everything that happens here in portals and because of Chaos Runs are within our capabilities.”
“But you’re not an Oath, yet,” Melmarc argued.
“But beating up Oaths is still within my capabilities.”
“And she might not be an Oath,” Uncle Dorthna added, “but she’s Oath-like. I can resume their training if that works for you, though,” he added. “Your dad definitely needs it a lot more now.”
Their mother’s eyes sharpened on him. “Why? What have you done to my husband?”
“Nothing.” Their uncle raised his hands in innocence. “I just have a feeling that with the future your kids have in store for them, he’ll definitely start trying to go above and beyond. Especially as an Oath.”
Their mother frowned but did not push the issue.
“So, you’ll continue their training?” It felt so odd negotiating his parent’s training. It felt as if he was hiring a home tutor for his parents. It was supposed to be the other way around.
Uncle Dorthna nodded. “I can do that. And, in case a problem that is not a natural occurrence of the wider cosmos happens, I’ll be inclined to protect them from it as long as it’s within my power.”
“Within your power?” their mother asked, confused. “The angels are terrified of you, what could possibly be outside your power?”
Uncle Dorthna chuckled. “I’m not the only being that angels are terrified of. There are still things in the wider cosmos that are stronger than me in my current state.”
“Like?” Ark asked.
“The Priest of Old, for example.”
Melmarc’s brows furrowed in surprise and their mother frowned.
Ark looked between the both of them. “Who’s that? You two look like I’m supposed to know him.”
“Melchizedek,” Melmarc answered. "The oldest priest in the bible. I'll explain more later." He thought he was just a bible story, like Abraham and Isaac. Or Enoch. He looked at his uncle. “He’s real?”
“Very real,” Uncle Dorthna confirmed. “Very old. And very powerful.”
“Is he a bad guy?” Melmarc had been taught that the priest was good, but Spitfire was a demon, and it was supposed to be bad, so he wasn’t very sure right now.
“He’s more neutral and interested in other things.” He looked at Melmarc pointedly. “So don’t go making enemies you know your parents can’t handle.”
Melmarc wasn’t going to.
“That’s three,” he said. “Do we still get more?”
Uncle Dorthna took a moment to think about it. “I’d say everything is still kind of standard. So… yeah. Maybe two more. Though you don’t have to think about them right now.”
“What if he wants you to kill someone?” Ark asked out of nowhere.
The room fell very silent. Even Spitfire turned on Ark’s bed to look at him as if it couldn’t believe he’d asked the question.
“Well,” Uncle Dorthna broke the silence, dragging the word contemplatively. “As long as I can, I don’t see why not. But Mel doesn’t strike me as a killer. At least not that kind.”
Melmarc didn’t think he was. “What of an entire family or group of people? What of an entire world?”
“Mel!” his mother scolded.
“Genocide.” Their uncle stroked his jaw. “I didn’t think you had it in you. If I could, I don’t see why not. But adding something like that could as well be your final request. Do you have a civilization you’re trying to get rid of?”
Melmarc shook his head, trying not to look at the horror on his mother’s face.
“Was just checking how powerful you are.”
“A dying dragon to an ant, Mel,” his uncle said, tapping the side of his nose. “A dying dragon to an ant. Now, thrice heard and accepted. Until a time when you think about your two extra requests, it’s my turn.”
The mana particles rippled again. This time, Melmarc felt as if a weight was lifted off him. He felt lighter.
“What if you’re not around when he asks for it?” Ark asked. “Let’s say he’s in another country?”
“Or in a portal,” Melmarc added.
Their uncle shrugged, nonchalant. “The contract will still be in effect. Just decide on the vow and it will be binding.”
“What if it requires instantaneous performance?” Ark asked.
“It will happen. Now, my turn. My requirement is simple.”
Their mother frowned a little. “Nothing’s ever simple with you.”
“True,” he admitted. “Still, it’s simple enough. I require two strands of his hair of my choosing right now, and one of my choosing every two months at least. In some cases, I might ask for it a month ahead but only in the event that I think it’s an emergency.”
“Two strands of hair?” Melmarc asked, confused.
“Right now,” Uncle Dorthna clarified. “Then one every two months. All of my choosing.”
Melmarc raised his hand to his hair, confused. It paused halfway as realization hit him. He had dyed his hair not too long ago, one specific portion.
“My white hair,” he said.
Their uncle nodded. “Your white hair. It’ll always grow back so there’s no problem with it.”
“Okay?”
Just how important is it that he has to do this for it? Can’t he just ask?
Uncle Dorthna reached forward and plucked two strands of his hair. He didn’t miss despite all the hair being the same color now. Melmarc knew he plucked the correct strands because somehow he felt it in his soul.
His world spun. It twisted twice. The mana particles in the air vibrated, then fled. It was like a small mana explosion had gone off and it had originated from his hair.
Oddly enough, for all the disorientation, there was no pain.
Melmarc put his hand to his head. “What was that?”
“Mana tremor,” Uncle Dorthna answered, holding both strands carefully. “It looks like two at once is still a little much for you. You can handle one, though.”
He got up from the chair, holding on to the two strands of hair. Melmarc wasn’t sure what he was looking at, but he thought…
He shook his head. It’s not possible. I might be imagining things.
“Alright, then,” Uncle Dorthna made his way for the door. “You guys think about your two other requests and hope that you get more. You have the rest of your lives to do it, after all.”
And just like that, he was gone.
Their mother turned very thoughtful. “That’s the happiest I’ve ever seen your uncle in my life.”
“I know, right?” Ark said happily. “I thought I was the only one who noticed it. He laughs and all, but this is the happiest I’ve seen him when no one’s cracking a joke or doing something funny. He was like that when Mel’s hair turned white, too.”
Their mother stared at the exit with narrowed eyes. Like Melmarc, she had to be wondering what exactly Uncle Dorthna was using the strands of hair for.
Melmarc’s interface popped up in front of him and he was suddenly aware of the phone in his pocket that had vibrated at least five more times since the conversation had started.
[The duration of the Authority Binding Vow has been extended by ????]
…
[Pending conclusion of the applied Authority Binding Vow, you are now under a potential Authority buff]
[You are Bound]
The air seemed to tighten. It grew firm, like muscles during a workout. It was almost as if the mana around him was now some kind of mantle he was putting on.
This was just another question he would have to ask his uncle. These days Melmarc was beginning to think there were more questions in his life than there were answers.
Is this how it’s always going to be?
“So,” Ark rubbed his hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. “We’ve got two more wishes. What are we going to wish for? And do we get Ninra in on this?”
Comments
Simon Hoerder
Those idiots. They should've gotten Ninra in on the negotiation from the beginning. She's the smart one, after all.
Anunay Kumar
Thank you for the chapter, really enjoyed it.
