[Error Detected]

[Dormant Oath of War cannot be reactivated.]

Why?

As if interactive and answering his question, a new notification appeared.

[Insufficient EP detected]

[Total EP 103]

[Required EP – 4000]

Melmarc stared at the required [EP] not knowing how exactly he was supposed to react. Four thousand was a lot. He'd probably gotten about six thousand maybe more from the demi-god in the portal. But where was he supposed to find another demi-god? And reactivating his mother would cost him so much more.

He could grow far more with all that [EP].

Releasing his mother's hand, he walked backwards to his bed. His steps were slow, almost defeated. When the back of his leg hit his bedframe, he allowed himself to fall to his bed, sitting down.

He dropped his head in his hands.

The room remained in silence, everyone looking at him. Waiting for him.

Uncle Dorthna broke the silence.

"Let me guess," he said conversationally. "You don't have enough."

Melmarc took his head from his hands to look at his uncle. "You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?"

Uncle Dorthna's brows furrowed. His eyes squinted. "I'm just trying to decipher if that's accusation I hear in your voice."

And if it is?

Melmarc bit down on the words. He wasn't an asshole. He also wasn't disrespectful. Being good, as Ninra had taught him, was not about being able to think in a good way. Being good was in your actions and intentions. You could be a monster in your mind, but as long as you did good, spoke good, and had good intentions, you were good.

Melmarc shook his head.

"No," he said apologetically. "I'm sorry if it sounded like that."

Uncle Dorthna shrugged. "It's not a problem. I figured you'd have the same issue, but you've been circumventing expectations for so long now that I figured. If you don't know your limitations, maybe you won't have any."

That made some level of sense.

"So, what happens now?" he asked.

Everyone looked at Uncle Dorthna.

He looked back at them. "What are you looking at me for?"

"This is usually the time when you have an answer," Ark said.

Uncle Dorthna sighed. "Would you like me to open a portal to some Demi-god so that you can go fight alone and make more?"

"Can you do that?" Ark asked.

"What part of portals can't enter your world because of—" he gestured aggressively at Melmarc—"do you not understand?"

Their mother walked up to Melmarc and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault, Mel."

"I know," he told her. "I just thought…"

Melmarc didn't know what he thought. He knew that it wasn't his fault, but it still felt like it was his fault. If he hadn't jumped first into using all his [EP] to level up, he could have reactivated his mother's Oath. It wasn't as if she didn't want it.

Instead, he had used it all on himself.

"I can just regain it," his mother said. "I've done it before, I'm sure I can do it again." She paused, looking at their uncle. "Right? I can do it again?"

"You'll have to reignite the feeling and devote yourself to the entire thing." Uncle Dorthna didn't seem the slightest bit bothered by the idea. "After a while of complete dedication, I'm sure you can."

"Or we can find Mel a way to get what he requires," Ark said. "What exactly does he require?"

"[EP]," Melmarc answered. "Existence points."

"He could go killing Gifted," Uncle Dorthna suggested. "That could work. There are civilizations where people sacrifice themselves specifically to grant a Sapient being the Existence Points that they require to do great deeds. Then again, you guys are kind of squeamish about things like that."

"And rightfully so," their mother snapped. "There will be no murder and or genocide in this house."

"Insects have that, right?" Ark asked.

"Yes," Melmarc shook his head as he answered. "But it would take far too many insects to get the amount I need. we won't be able to get the amount of insects required."

"And insects are actually helpful for the ecosystem," Uncle Dorthna added. "It won't be a good idea killing them in droves even if you can."

"But you're okay killing people?" Ark asked. "That's just something."

Their uncle shrugged. "You all are long lived as compared to insects. And, like I said, they are good for the ecosystem. You guys? Not so much."

"Ow!" Ark shouted suddenly. He leaned down and rubbed his leg. "I thought we were done with this, Spitfire."

There was a pause while he scowled at the demon before shaking his head.

"No, I will not invite my brother over to a demon world," he told it.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea," Uncle Dorthna mused. "Your parents won't have any problems with you killing demons." He looked at their mother. "Right?"

Their mother hesitated. "Aren't demons really strong or something?"

"Stinky buggers, really," Ark answered. "Hard to kill, too."

All eyes settled on Ark.

"And how do you know this?" their mother asked.

Ark looked Melmarc dead in the eye. "Because Spitfire told me."

Dissonant.

Ark held Melmarc's gaze. Kept it in place. Then he looked away, back to the others, and shrugged.

Their mother looked between them. "What was that? That eye thing. What happened there just now?"

"Brotherly communication," Ark answered with an innocent smile.

"No, you lie almost as good as your sister," she snapped and turned to Melmarc. "I'll be a fool to believe any innocent smile you give at a time like this. Mel, what was that about?"

Melmarc sighed. Ark had just informed him that no matter what, he should not tell his mother what had just happened. However, while he was a brother that would defend Ark, he was a son that wouldn't lie to his mother.

So, he had to find a compromise.

"Ark just lied," he answered.

Ark rolled his eyes as if he had expected it.

"What did he lie about?" their mother pressed. "How does he know about demons?"

Here came the compromise.

"It could be anything," Melmarc said just before Ark opened his mouth. "Maybe Spitfire's been sending him telepathic messages. Maybe he heard it from the dark web."

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"You guys don't know anyone on the dark web." Their mother looked between them. "Have you kids been on the dark web?

"No," Melmarc said. Ark was more than happy to let him talk. "Delano uses the dark web all the time."

"Your conspiracy theory friend?" She shivered visibly. "How does a nice kid like Delano end up on the dark web?"

Melmarc's jaw dropped.

"Nice?" he, Uncle Dorthna, and Ark asked in unison.

Their mother looked at them as if they were the problem. "Of course, Delano's nice. He's always respectful. He greets his elders. He makes sure Mel doesn't forget their class assignments."

It made sense. Delano was in fact very respectful. He also liked to remind Melmarc of their assignments anytime they were parting ways so that he could copy in case he forgot to do his.

Then there was the extra charm that came with being normal height next to 'two giants' as Delano liked to refer to him and Eroms.

Thinking about it, Melmarc could see how his mother had fallen for the lie.

"That kid's a spawn of Satan," Uncle Dorthna said. "Personally, I like him. A pity he's not Gifted."

Their mother's eyes narrowed on their uncle. "If you like him, then I should probably be worried."

"Hey, I like Ninra."

"No, you're scared of her. Big difference." Their mother returned her attention to Ark. "What were you lying about?"

Uncle Dorthna sighed. "Not to teach you how to parent your spawns, but you should probably take it easy."

She paused.

"I can't say that I'm entirely sure how it works, but Mel tends to act up in tense situations," Uncle Dorthna continued. "You wouldn't want to find yourself negotiating terms of Spitfire's release. He is a demon not in his world, after all."

"I don't…" their mother frowned, unsure of what to say. In the end, she sighed and looked at Melmarc. "You'll tell me if it's something dangerous, right?"

Melmarc nodded. To his surprise, there was no dissonance.

He actually didn't think he would tell her, because Ark got into a lot of dangerous things at school and he didn't tell her.

Melmarc's phone vibrated in his pocket and he took it out, looking for any reason to do something else.

One name was on the screen. Pelumi.

Hey, the message read.

He texted back quickly. Hey. How are you?

He hesitated before pressing send. Ark always told him that girls didn't like replies like that. They were boring. Girls wanted something more interesting, something that made them want to talk more.

"About that," his mother was saying, looking at their uncle. "You said you had an idea on how to deal with that."

Suddenly Melmarc's phone was the least interesting thing in the room. The idea of dealing with his new quirks was something he would be more than happy to jump on. He returned his phone to his pocket even as it vibrated again.

"I see we got your attention," Uncle Dorthna grinned.

Try not trusting yourself in the aftermath of what you've done, Melmarc thought. You'd jump on a solution, too.

"And don't say that he should just give into it," his mother added, pointing a warning finger at him.

"That's not it." Uncle Dorthna moved to the only chair in the room, right up against the wall with the reading table, and sat down. "He's got about three Oaths in him right now. Madness, War, Pain. I'm guessing he's got a touch of Fear, too."

Melmarc didn't remember sensing anything fear related. Or is it like Madness and War?

Did something have to happen for the quirk to act up? Melmarc didn't like the idea of it.

"I'm guessing there must have been a lot of fear wherever you guys went," Uncle Dorthna was saying, "because I didn't feel it until you guys came back."

Ariadne, Melmarc thought. It would've made perfect sense if she had been terrified enough for him to feel it. Then there was the sudden increase in [Optimum Existence] that he had felt.

"Then what's the fix?" their mother asked.

"I take it the fix is for the War part."

"And the Madness," Melmarc added. "If it's possible."

"Everybody's a little mad, Mel," their uncle told him. "There's no fixing madness. But your mom is trying to cut back on your tendency for violence when you get in that state. So, what we're trying to fix is the tendency for violence."

Melmarc wasn't happy to hear that. Still, he would take what he could get.

"How do we fix it?"

"With the Oaths."

"No," their mother snapped immediately. "Anything but that. He's not ready to meet the Oaths. Can't you use one of your spells?"

Uncle Dorthna cocked his head to the side. "It will cost him," he said simply. "And in case we've forgotten, I've not discussed terms of my continued service."

"Terms?" Melmarc asked, confused.

Ark adjusted on the bed. "I'm more interested in these services."

"Your uncle's unemployed so we pay him to do a few things around the house," their mother explained.

Melmarc frowned at the absence of dissonance.

"Spells, enchantments, baby-sitting when we're not around." She shrugged. "We pay him for almost everything he does. His 'contract' is up so we are renegotiating, and you kids are part of it this time."

"Cool," Ark smiled. "Sounds like fun."

"Not you, kiddo," Uncle Dorthna said to him. "I'll be negotiating with Mel. Your mom will play supervisor."

"We'll start with a spell for the present pressing issue," their mother said easily. "Then we'll go from there."

Uncle Dorthna raised a questioning brow. "Are you sure. The spell won't solve his problem, though. It will just hold him back, make him weaker, like your husband when he was holding back his madness."

Something about the last sentence didn't sit well with Melmarc, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it. Is it because he called dad weak?

Uncle Dorthna wasn't one to insult people without good reason, though.

"The alternative would be better for him in the long run," their uncle continued, still addressing their mother. "It will deal with his issues and make him relatively normal."

"Relatively?" Melmarc asked, jumping on the word.

"Well, you are more of an Oath than the other Oaths," he answered. "So, yes, relatively."

Ark shook his head. "Still don't get it."

Their mother was the one that explained instead of their uncle.

"Oaths are embodiments of concepts," she said. "Each Oath is a Gifted that embodies the concept that they represent well enough and at its peak."

"Madness is the maddest and War is the most… warring," Uncle Dorthna supplied. "And Mercy is the most merciful."

"We don't have a Mercy," their mother pointed out. "Or even Peace."

"True enough," their uncle agreed.

"What about Fear?" Ark asked. "Fear discourages violence."

Uncle Dorthna shook his head. "Fear doesn't work that way. The Oaths don't hold you down. The most terrified person isn't necessarily the person that gains the Oath. In fact, your mother was right in her description, and I didn't think she needed to expand on it, but maybe she does." He looked at their mother. "Would you like to, or should I?"

"I should. It's not like it's anything complicated," she said. "The Oath isn't necessarily just the maddest. It's the maddest person with the deepest understanding of madness."

"So, Fear is the person with the deepest understanding of fear," their uncle added. "And having the deepest understanding of fear helps you rise above it."

"Shouldn't the same rule apply to dad?" Melmarc asked.

Their uncle chuckled slightly. "Can you even begin to fathom what a man would be if he ever rose above madness? To rise above insanity does not mean to be sane, Mel. What you call sanity is just finding order in insanity while suppressing the parts of insanity that you can't find order in. To rise above sanity is to rise above being human. To rise above sanity is to seek out…"

…I was Madness…

The words echoed in his head from a time not so long ago and yet felt like a life time ago. It was the words of an Oath that had tried to rise to something greater than it was and had failed. An Oath that had tried to rise above madness. They had been the words of a demi-god.

Caldath.

"Godhood," Melmarc muttered. "To rise above madness is to reach the realm of godhood."

Uncle Dorthna nodded. "Unlike the other Oaths, Madness is not something that becomes a tool. It is something that becomes you. It is why it is so strong in comparison. It only has maybe two rivals."

Their mother looked at him. "Humanity?"

"Not really," he waved the question aside. "Humanity's definitely strong, but Humanity is probably the most reasonable Oath. It's definitely the most stable. You don't want Humanity."

"But you just said that it's the most stable."

Uncle Dorthna ran a hand through his head in slight annoyance. "What's with this family and talking a lot. It's why I like Ninra. She's always to the point."

"You're the one beating around the bush, though," Ark pointed out.

Their uncle paused. "Fair. I'll tell you the Oath and then we'll move on to my thing. Agreed?"

Everyone nodded.

"Alright." Their uncle clapped his hands together. "What we need is Mercy. But since you don't have Mercy, you'll need the next best thing. An overlapping Oath. Grace."

Melmarc did not miss the way their mother's face softened at the mention of the Oath.

"Grace is good," she muttered to herself. "She can be trusted."

"Grace tends to be," Uncle Dorthna agreed. "It also has its perks apart from helping with the whole violence thing. The free and unearned favor of a supreme being. Forgiveness even when unearned. It will definitely push him towards leniency while War pulls him towards justice." He brought his hands together. "A near perfect balance. He will be inclined to fitting punishments as well as leniency and or outright forgiveness."

"So how can he learn it?" their mother asked.

To that, their uncle laughed. "In the world you live in, some Oaths come more naturally than others. He got War and Madness so soon because it's practically in his blood. Pain was kind of my fault, and no, it wasn't because of our slight soiree. Fear was… well, in the right circumstances, fear tends to be all over the place. Humans, however, aren't known for their grace. Mercy? Maybe. But definitely not grace."

"I still say we might be able to do something with fear," Ark offered.

"True," Uncle Dorthna agreed. "But Fear is a double-edged sword. It won't just make him a little less violent, it will make him a bit of a coward until he fully understands it. He will run from fights. He'll be a little less rational in the face of danger."

"Then there's the whole idea of a cornered rat," their mother said in a low voice, almost too low to hear.

Their uncle pointed at her in agreement. "Exactly. Too much of it and he may lash out. His violence has a bit of logic to it right now. I don't think we want to see what it becomes when it's illogical. So, no, fear is not in our favor. As for Grace, it's not something that he can easily pick up. Not even in a church. I fear you might have to have him spend some time with the Oath on this one."

Their mother didn't look pleased. "We're not ready for the Oaths to know who he is."

"That's a good idea."

Uncle Dorthna got up from the chair and walked over to Melmarc, pulling the chair behind him.

"Now that that's out of the way," he said. Stopping in front of him and his mother, he placed the chair so that the backrest faced them and sat down on it the wrong way. He rested his arms on top of the backrest. "It's time to talk about what favors me. My payment for continued services rendered. For starters, the spell I may or may not place on you to help with the punishment tendencies. Then the spell that I'll definitely put on you to prevent other Oaths from discovering who you are."

"And do I get a say in it?" Melmarc asked. "Or are the terms defined?"

His mother rubbed him on the shoulders in assurance. "There are no terms that cannot be negotiated in a contract. If not, it would not be a negotiation or a contract."

"There are slave contracts," Uncle Dorthna offered. "But, ultimately, your mother is right. It is a negotiation after all."

Knowing this, an odd calm settled over Melmarc. It was eerie, as if he would not lose in this negotiation.

He will protect Ninra first.

Then he will grant Ark enough knowledge to conquer a demon kingdom.

The thoughts were his, ideas springing to life. But there was something else about them. Melmarc recognized them for what they were—effects of one of the Oaths he had gained.

The question was which one.

[You are about to enter into a contract with ????]

[???? Has used Authority Binding Vow]

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