Well, whether or not all good deeds are punished or not, here I am.

My first call, naturally was to the gnomish ombudsman. He’s a good sort and I’ve mentioned him before, but never very much.

While he could dress exactly the part of a garden gnome and fit into any standard garden (with a supplementary beard), he doesn’t and will swiftly kick your ankles in for making such jokes.

No, instead he dresses more like an Englishman out of time – black suit with carnation, handkerchief that is never actually used, bowler hat, cane for affectation, and a seemingly perpetual cigarette (which never seems to smell).

With his close-cropped black beard and similarly smartly cut hair, he seems ripe to dress as a very tiny version of a piratical Black Beard (but I’ve never mentioned this).

All of the above having been said, he has a good sense of humor provided he’s not the target. He’s also a fierce ombudsman to have in your corner, having served as a union rep previously, so you can absolutely depend on him to accept no nonsense when it comes to making the right calls for the right reasons and making sure everyone is being adequately protected.

Dhramuthi woke up from their nap, took one look at the ombudsman, and tried to eat his hat. After a brief bout of laughter and ankle kicking, one briefly chewed hat was back in the ombudsman’s possession.

“Under the current paradigm, I don’t believe I can declare something like ‘ownership’ of a sentient/sapient being. Especially one who probably has enough smarts to vote in baseline society,” I said, handing over the letter to the ombudsman.

“Agreed, but a simple magical creature who is that smart is usually a simple enough case. We can place them under the Familiar clause,” the ombudsman said after a moment’s scanning of the letter.

“The familiar clause?” I prompted, the double meaning escaping me.

“When essentia users create a creature unique to them, that’s called a familiar. I know you’re not that dumb,” the ombudsman explained.

“No, I was just forgetting the double meaning.”

He nodded sagely.

“Anyway, Dhramuthi can be placed under the Familiar clause. This makes you their guardian indefinitely and nontransferable. Unless…, you’re not a golem, are you?” the latter part of the question went to Dhramuthi, who’d decided to start cat loafing again.

“Nah, bruv. More chi-mer-a,” Muthi said, sounding out the word.

The gnome frowned.

“Chimeras are a bit tricky when it comes to the legal structure of creations. They’re not exactly familiars, but they aren’t covered explicitly by the obvious cases.”

“You mean to tell me that nobody’s been trying to make smarter animals through intermixing species?” I asked, a bit facetiously.

“Smarter… not really. Maybe the odd henchbeing, but those are usually done under the radar and have a very short life expectancy anyway – being measured in months, not years. More capable warlike chimeras – absolutely. That’s been going on since the dawn of magic, sadly.”

I gave it some thought.

“What’s the exact language on the familiar clause – the definition portion I mean?” I asked.

From thin air (a twinkling of magic showing me that it wasn’t actually thin air), the ombudsman pulled out a thin tome and handed it to me, holding onto the corner for a moment and making it grow from his size to the properly massive affair that it was.

“Page 253 if memory serves,” he said.

It took me a moment, but the chapter title was in fact Familiars and Bound Magic Creations.

As much as I am thankful for not having become a lawyer, I swear that I have had to deal with more tomes of law than I ever dreamt of before. And unfortunately, weaselwording is practically a byword in industry. Something I do rather well (but try not to unless its to my benefit).

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Hmmm? Oh right, the definition:

It shall be established the following definition shall be what describes and is embodied under the title of Familiar: a unique essentia generating or essentia bonded creation which may be summoned, constructed, or imbued by the creator in such a way as to bond it to the creator. This creation is an extension of the creator and may possess up to equivalent intelligence as the creator.

I frowned. So did the gnome. Muthi went back to the couch and managed to get the remote to work well enough to watch some Springer-esque type show.

“So they’re not bound to me. That’s a problem,” I said.

The gnome looked at the definition again and seemed to think hard.

“Unfortunately, that’s a big chunk of created beings. Golems are typically created to serve and I do not get the impression that Dhramuthi serves,” the gnome said.

“Da’ straight,” was the reply from the furry mound on the couch, who was engrossed in learning ‘who the father is’.

“Well, I don’t exactly want to leave them without protection. Any chance they’d fit under the Djinn amendment?” I asked.

The gnome frowned for a moment and then brightened.

“You know, they just might. Page 12957,” the gnome said, touching the book in a particular spot and the pages moving to the aforementioned page.

It shall be held that the beings known and categorized as bound magical creatures capable of wholly independent thought and not dependent on the creator for essentia (colloquially known as Djinn) shall be provided full and equivalent freedom to exercise as free beings and citizens within the whole of the governance of the Prime Plane.

Attempted to retain bonds (magical or otherwise) with a Djinn or equivalent magical creature, which can demonstrate wholly independent thought AND are not dependent on the creator for essentia, said bonds being categorized as unilateral, will be prosecuted under Chapter 31 Section 481 Involuntary Servitude.

Bilateral bonds into which the two beings enter shall be handled according to the appropriate regulations.

I thought for a long moment.

“That… that should do it,” I said, a bit hesitantly.

“I’m not certain,” the gnome said, pointing to the first paragraph.

“Muthi isn’t dependent on me for essentia, especially since I don’t have any. And they’re definitely capable of independent thought, although I can’t say I’m fond of what they find entertaining…” I said, gesturing as a fight broke out between two women.

“Yuir just mad it ain’t you, bruv,” came the reply from the couch.

“And besides, it specifically says ‘colloquially’. The following paragraph is what really matters. They definitely fall under that ‘equivalent magical creature’ case,” I ignored the furry lump’s commentary.

“That covers them under the rule of law as an independent being at least. But that would require you two to enter into a contract of sorts for them to stay with you as a matter of guardianship, if that’s what we think is necessary,” the gnome said.

“Well, that’s the thing. They actually generate essentia crystals. So I would very much argue that guardianship is necessary. And I’m not trying to be greedy,” I explained and pulled out the purple essentia crystal that had been clogging my toilet.

The crystal being slightly malformed compared to the standard that the gnome was used to seeing was almost certainly the immediate sign that he needed. He frowned all the same.

“An independent magical being who produces essentia crystals from baseline food and you want control of them?”

“Ehhhhhhnt,” I sounded off like the buzzer in basketball. “I want to ensure they don’t end up getting disappeared by somebody who’s going to ‘goose with the golden eggs’ them. Or worse – try and recreate them and end up killing them in the process.”

The gnome was still frowning, but stroked his beard.

“You make a valid point,” he said, apparently still thinking.

We sat in relative silence for a minute or so, the only sounds being the latest round of drama from the tv.

“Djinns have an equivalent essentia generation, but nothing so substantial. I think under the circumstances, let’s have them become your roommate. That bonds them to you and you to them reasonably, their essentia generation we’ll keep quiet, but the proceeds of which can be used to cover the associated rent, utilities, food, and all expenses associated with the continuation of their existence. This allows you a reasonable access to their welfare. But I believe that I should argue that those proceeds, outside of the necessary expenses, should also be placed into savings on their behalf,” the gnome intoned in that formal way he had of speaking.

“If you can draft something up for us along with whatever we need for getting Muthi into the register, then I’m game to see that through,” I said, knowing that I was almost certainly biting off more than I really should in the longer term.

“If you’re certain. Dhramuthi, do you agree to becoming the roommate of Sam and allowing him to support you in your daily affairs? You will still have the rights of an independent being and will not be beholden to him in anyway other than as necessary for the expenses of living,” the gnome walked over to the furry mound, which was clearly trying to decide if they should try for the hat again.

“Its all good, innit?” Muthi decided to ignore the apparently delicious looking hat and went back to watching tv.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Sam, I’ll draft something up and have it to you within the next few days. Please don’t do anything too precipitous in the meantime,” the gnome said.

“Thanks for coming round so quickly,” I smiled politely and led him out, helping him reshrink and then thin air away the tome of law on the way.

After the door shut, Muthi looked away from the TV to me.

“What’s his deal?” they asked.

“You’re one of a kind. A lot of people pay lots of money for one of a kind,” I try explaining.

“Figure one of them might feed me better than you?” Muthi asked, raising the equivalent of an eyebrow or what I guessed to be one.

“Not really. Those kind of folks are more interested in the trophy, not the condition in which they keep it.”

“Hmmf. What’s for dinner then?” Muthi said, having apparently decided the matter being settled.

I chuckled.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead. What sounds good?” I admitted.

“I’m chill, bruv. Just make sure there’s plenty,” Muthi wiggled on the couch as though scratching an itch.

I gave it some thought. A pet, sorry – roommate- that eats anything, especially leftovers, and always pays rent sure wouldn’t go amiss. At the very least, I wouldn’t have to worry about food poisoning. All I have to deal with is an enjoyment of bad daytime television.

That last bit was perhaps going to be a problem, but for half-rent being always paid and an excuse to get extra takeaway, I’m not going to turn it down at least.

And that’s how I got my sort-of roommate.

Let’s see, what other stories have happened recently that I’m not under NDA to disclose… Hmmmm… well, I could tell you about my trip to deal with the equivalent of magical PhD students. That should be good for a laugh, at least to anyone who’s done tech support for a university.

Anyway, more next time.