The air inside the shard was tense, crackling with the energy of the conversation that had just taken place. My familiars and I were gathered around the map crystal, its soft glow illuminating our faces. I could see every inch of Schoolville projected on its surface. Every corner, every building, and every person. Including the café where Evelyn had just voiced her concerns about my powers.

“Well, that was interesting,” I muttered, leaning back slightly from the map. Fernando perched nearby, his leafy tail twitching as he listened.

“Did you know that was gonna happen, boss?” he asked, his tone a mixture of curiosity and concern.

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the map. “I figured something like it was bound to happen,” I replied. “It’s kind of obvious what I’m doing when you think about it. I mean, how else would I keep this place running so smoothly?”

Seraphina, the queen of this little pocket dimension, stood off to the side, her expression one of thinly veiled outrage. “Ungrateful,” she hissed, folding her arms across her chest. “After everything you’ve done for them, this is how they repay you?”

I glanced at her and shrugged. “That’s humans for you. They fear what they don’t understand, and they can’t help but try to control it. It’s instinct.”

“You won’t accept a council, then?” Regina Aspis spoke up, her tone measured and thoughtful. She was always the tactician, considering every angle before making a move.

“No,” I said flatly. “Derek was right about that. They can fuck right off with that option. A council would mean giving them some form of power over me or this place. And that’s not happening. I’m not about to grant anyone enough access to the shard for there to be any kind of real oversight. It would be a lie, a farce. I won’t pretend to give them control just to make them feel better.”

Seraphina snorted, clearly in agreement. “A wise decision,” she said, though the anger hadn’t left her eyes.

“So, where does that leave us, boss?” Fernando asked, hopping closer, his eyes wide with a mix of concern and intrigue.

I exhaled slowly, turning the situation over in my mind. “Hmm. Not many options, really,” I began. “I can leave, they can leave, or they accept things as they are. It’s as simple as that.”

I traced a finger over the map crystal, noting the locations of several buildings I’d grown and shaped from the ground. “They were wrong about one thing in that café, though. I don’t care about the village. I didn’t do all of this because I love this place or its people. I did it because it was easy for me. I saw things that needed to be done, and I did them. They’re playing politics with an outdated paradigm, thinking they have a say in how my power is used.”

“My power isn’t derived from them,” I continued, my voice firm. “It’s not some democracy or republic where they get a vote. It’s more like a mandate of heaven. Or, more accurately, a mandate of mana. Point is, my power exists independently of the people here. I can go anywhere in this world, and I’ll still have this power.”

Loki, who had been listening quietly with her ears perked, raised her head. “But what about my friends?” she asked, her voice small and tinged with worry.

Thor whined beside her, his tail drooping. “Yeah, boss. What about the kids? They look up to us. They’re our friends. If you leave, what happens to them?”

“That would be sad,” I acknowledged, my voice softening slightly. “But that also wouldn’t be my fault. I didn’t ask for them to become dependent on me.”

Loki’s eyes widened, a mixture of fear and confusion swimming within them. “But you could help them,” she said, her voice cracking. “You have so much power. You could keep things the way they are. You can make them safe.”

Thor nodded vigorously. “Yeah, you’ve got the power, boss. Doesn’t that mean you should use it to help?”

I turned away from the map, crossing my arms as I thought about how to explain this. “Power doesn’t come with an obligation,” I began, my voice even. “Just because I can do something, doesn’t mean I have to. Power gives me the ability to choose, and that’s what this is about. Choice.”

“But isn’t choosing to do nothing also a choice?” Regina interjected, her eyes narrowing. “You could choose to help them or let them fend for themselves. Either way, it’s an exercise of your power.”

“Yes, and that’s precisely what they don’t seem to grasp,” I replied, my frustration leaking into my tone. “They want me to help them, but they also want to dictate the terms of that help. They want me to act according to their sense of right and wrong, to their rules. That’s not how this works.”

Seraphina tapped her chin thoughtfully. “You’re right. They’re applying the old world’s thinking to a new reality. But what do you intend to do, then?”

“I’ll make them understand,” I said quietly, my gaze fixed on the shimmering map. “They think I care about their little village politics, but I don’t. They’re mistaking my actions for some kind of civic duty when, really, it’s just me taking advantage of an easy opportunity. I need to make it clear that my presence here is a favor, not an obligation.”

Thor’s ears drooped further, and he whined softly. “But, boss... the kids. They’re good kids. They just don’t understand, that’s all. If you explain it to them, maybe they’ll see things your way.”

I sighed, feeling a pang of sadness as I glanced at Loki and Thor. They were right; the children in the village had grown attached to us, to me. “Maybe they would,” I admitted, “but this isn’t a lesson that can be taught with words alone. They have to experience the reality of this world to understand it.”

Loki stepped forward, her eyes wide and pleading. “Please, boss. Just give them a chance. Not everyone can see things the way you do. They need time. If you leave now, they’ll never get that chance.”

I turned to face the map crystal fully, my eyes scanning the intricacies of the village laid out before me. “Fine,” I said finally, my voice a low growl. “I’ll give them a chance. But they need to understand that this is my decision. I won’t be bound by their councils or committees. I’ll help them because I choose to, not because they demand it.”

A brief silence filled the shard as my words sank in. Then, Seraphina nodded approvingly. “That’s fair. They need to realize that your help is not a right but a privilege.”

Regina gave a small nod. “And if they push further? What then?”

“Then we proceed to option two,” I said coldly. “If they can’t accept the terms, they can leave. Or I will. I have no shortage of places to go, and no shortage of power to survive wherever I decide to settle.”

Fernando twitched his tail thoughtfully. “Well, that should shake things up, boss. Guess we’ll see how they react.”

“Indeed,” I replied, my gaze hardening as I turned away from the map. “They wanted to play politics. Let’s see how they handle the reality of power.”

Gabby’s eyes shimmered with cosmic knowledge as she stepped closer, her presence both commanding and comforting. “Gavrin, your reluctance is understandable. But you’re already in charge, whether you like it or not,” she said gently, her voice holding a note of insistence. “This village, these people—they rely on you. You built this place, and with your Verdant Dominion, you’ve essentially claimed this land. Your power isn’t just about creation; it’s about stewardship.”

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I frowned, crossing my arms defensively. “I never asked for that. I just wanted to help, to make things easier where I could. I didn’t sign up to be some ruler.”

Gabby nodded, her expression one of patient understanding. “I know, Gav Gav. But sometimes, leadership isn’t about wanting the role. It’s about stepping up when circumstances demand it. You’re the only one who has the ability to set boundaries here—boundaries that everyone understands and respects.”

“Maybe,” I muttered, my gaze drifting to the verdant expanse of the shard. “But dealing with people? Trying to keep them all happy or in line? That’s not me, Gabby. It’s exhausting.”

“You wouldn’t have to keep them happy,” she countered, her eyes narrowing slightly. “The point of an oath isn’t to micromanage every action. It’s to establish a basic foundation of trust and mutual respect. An oath sets the rules of engagement so that everyone knows where they stand. The system will enforce those rules, leaving you free to focus on what you do best.”

“Which is… what exactly?” I asked, my skepticism clear.

Gabby smiled knowingly. “Creating, protecting, building. You’re not some politician who thrives on endless debates and bureaucracy. You’re a creator, a force of nature. The oath would simply be a framework to ensure that the people who live here don’t undermine what you’ve built—or turn against you in some misguided attempt to control something they can’t even comprehend.”

I ran a hand through my hair, the weight of her words pressing down on me. “And what kind of oath would work for that?” I asked. “It’s not like I can make everyone promise to be perfect little citizens. People have their own agendas, their own desires.”

“You don’t need them to be perfect,” she replied. “You need them to be honest. The oath can be something simple yet binding. For example, they swear to respect your domain and your decisions, to not betray you or seek to wrest control from you. In return, you swear to protect them, to act in the best interest of the community as long as it aligns with your own freedom and principles.”

I frowned, considering her words. “It sounds… restrictive. What if they start interpreting the oath in ways I didn’t intend?”

Gabby shrugged, her expression shifting to one of mild amusement. “That’s the beauty of the system. It’s not just about the words spoken; it’s about intent. If someone tries to twist the oath to suit their own ends, the system will sense it and enforce the consequences. The oaths bind not just actions but the spirit behind those actions.”

“So, you’re saying I could swear an oath to protect them as long as it doesn’t infringe on my autonomy? And they swear not to undermine or betray me?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around the concept.

“Exactly,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “You set the terms. You define what betrayal means. It could be anything from actively working against you to secretly conspiring to limit your power. And in return, they gain your protection and the benefits of living within your domain.”

I exhaled slowly, feeling a knot of tension begin to unravel within me. “It sounds almost… too easy. Like it’s a trap waiting to spring.”

“It’s not a trap,” Gabby replied firmly. “It’s a tool. A tool you can use to establish order. Yes, it means taking on a role you didn’t necessarily want. But in truth, you’ve been that role all along. You’ve just refused to acknowledge it. By using the oath, you formalize what already exists: your dominion.”

I paced back and forth, my mind racing. The idea of swearing an oath felt heavy, like chains waiting to wrap around my wrists. Yet, it also offered a potential solution to the chaos brewing in the village. “Okay,” I said slowly, stopping to face her. “Let’s say I do this. How do I word it? What’s the exact phrasing that won’t come back to bite me?”

Gabby’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Leave that part to the system. It thrives on clarity and intent. You speak your terms aloud, and the system will refine it into a binding contract that both sides must honor. You could say something like, ‘I, Gavrin, swear to protect and provide for this domain and its inhabitants, so long as they respect my sovereignty and do not betray my trust.’ And for them, they could swear something like, ‘We, the people of Schoolville, swear to respect Gavrin’s rule and not to undermine or conspire against him, so long as he upholds his vow of protection and provision.’”

I stared at her, feeling the gravity of her words settle into place. “It still feels like I’m putting a collar on them,” I muttered. “And on myself.”

Gabby nodded. “In a way, you are. But it’s a mutual agreement, a contract that benefits both sides. They gain your protection, your creations, and the safety of your dominion. You gain assurance that they won’t turn against you. It’s not about control; it’s about boundaries and respect. Without them, chaos will seep in.”

I hesitated, my mind caught between the desire for freedom and the need for structure. “And if someone breaks the oath?”

Gabby’s eyes darkened slightly, a hint of the void within them flickering to the surface. “The system will enforce the consequences. Breaking an oath sworn on the system carries a heavy price. It could be anything from losing their privileges within your domain to more… severe repercussions, depending on the terms you set.”

“Severe?” I asked, my voice cautious.

“Banished from the domain, stripped of any benefits you’ve granted them, maybe even some form of physical or magical backlash,” Gabby replied evenly. “The system is fair but ruthless when it comes to upholding oaths. It makes sure that the promise isn’t taken lightly.”

I fell silent, weighing her words. The idea of binding everyone to an oath felt like a monumental step, one that would forever change the dynamic between me and the village. It was a solution, yes, but it also meant embracing a role I’d long avoided.

Finally, I sighed, feeling both resigned and strangely at peace. “Okay, I’ll consider it,” I said. “But I need time to think about the wording, the terms. This isn’t something I can just jump into.”

Gabby smiled, her eyes softening. “Of course, Gav Gav. Take your time. Just remember, dominion is about more than just power. It’s about responsibility. The oath won’t bind you to their whims, but it will anchor your role as the protector and ruler you’ve already become.”

With that, I turned back to the map crystal, my thoughts swirling with the weight of the decision ahead. Gabby watched me quietly, her presence a steady reminder of the vastness of power—and the intricacies of the choices that came with it.

Fernando’s ears perked up as he received my instructions. He scurried to the crystal map, his tiny paws moving deftly across the surface to find Scott’s location. "Got it, boss," he chirped. "I’ll get a message to Scott right away. He’s always been good at handling these situations, and he knows you better than most. If anyone’s got a plan, it’s him."

I nodded, feeling a flicker of relief. Scott had been with me since the beginning. He was one of the few people who truly grasped the extent of my abilities. If anyone could calm this storm, it was him.

"Include everything that happened in the café," I instructed. "No sugar-coating, no leaving out details. He needs the whole picture. If he has any insight on how to handle the fallout from this, I need to know it now."

"Sure thing, boss," Fernando replied with a quick nod. "I'll get the message out to him immediately. Let's hope he’s already got a plan or at least some ideas on how to address this mess."

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on me. "And someone needs to intercept Evelyn," I added, looking toward the group gathered around the map crystal. "She's on her way back here, and I don't want to talk to her right now. Not with emotions running this high. We need to cool off before we have another conversation."

Loki stepped forward, her eyes sharp. "I’ll handle that. I’ll make sure Evelyn understands that now is not the time for a confrontation and redirect her somewhere else for the moment."

"Thank you," I replied, feeling a bit of the tension in my shoulders release. "Tell her... I just need time. We both do."

I then turned my gaze toward Regina Aspis and Seraphina. "And pull back the patrols," I ordered. "I want everyone within a safe radius. We need to be able to get everyone back inside the shard within ten minutes if things go south."

Seraphina nodded solemnly. "Understood. I’ll recall the patrols and set up a perimeter that can be retracted quickly if necessary. But Gavrin, what exactly is it you’re preparing for? A fight?"

"I don’t know," I answered honestly, rubbing my temples. "This situation feels like it could spiral out of control at any moment. Maybe it’s just paranoia, but I’d rather have all our people in a position to retreat if we need to." I grimaced. "This whole thing has a tension to it that I don’t like."

Regina Aspis gave me a calculating look. "So, what will you be doing during this time?"

"Honestly?" I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "I don’t know. Meditating, I guess. I need to clear my mind and center myself before making any big decisions. I need to think about what my next move should be." I felt a pang of worry for the villagers and for myself. "Right now, I’m too caught up in what just happened to think straight. I need some distance from all this chaos to figure things out."

Seraphina regarded me with concern. "We will handle things here. You go and take the time you need. But be ready, Gavrin. Tensions like this don't just dissipate; they build."

I nodded. "I know. I just need a moment to breathe, to step back and see the bigger picture." I turned to Fernando. "Get me if anything goes wrong or if you need me. I don’t want to be totally in the dark."

"Sure thing, boss," Fernando replied, his tone a mix of reassurance and concern. "You go clear your head. I'll keep watch on everything here and make sure you’re updated if anything changes."

With that, I turned away from the crystal map, trying to ignore the knots forming in my stomach. This wasn't just a simple disagreement; it was a tipping point. I needed to think about what it truly meant to have this much power and what it would take to navigate the fallout of what had just occurred.

As I walked away, I couldn't help but feel the weight of every step. Whatever came next, I needed to be ready.