Unfortunately for Azrael the girl was there the next day, as well as the day after that. For whatever little consolation it was worth, she was not dead.

Right the next morning, after he’d first discovered her, he’d gone out to gather some rocks for more drawing tablets. She’d stared at him the entire time, her eyes silently following him and very much alive. It was awkward and more than a little unsettling.

It was on the evening on the second day he had a terrible thought. What if she was an offering left by the villagers? What did they think he was, a god demanding virgin sacrifice, a vengeful beast, a bloodthirsty demon, an overlord slaver???

Unsure how to handle the situation he decided to ignore her, hoping that either she, or the other villagers got the message and that she would leave.

However, it seemed that she and the villagers were denser than he’d given them credit for. In the mornings when he left and she was awake, she would trail behind him quietly, like a ghost. Whether that was when he was gathering more water from the lake, or when he was measuring the circumference for his planned protective circle. And she never seemed to leave. Whether he was making breakfast, or just leaving the rune library, she was always there. On the third day the irritation at her constant presence had become greater than his dislike for human contact and he’d gone to the village chief to resolve the issue. After a lot of bowing and scraping he promised to resolve the situation. She’d been gone for all of half a day, before she snuck back to take her vigil on his doorstep.

He took to leaving early in the morning, before she woke, to do his work. One morning on his way out, he left her one of his spare blankets. The days were getting colder, as winter drew nearer and he didn’t want to go through the hassle of burying her should she freeze to death.

He even ignored some of the female villagers who brought her meals in the evenings. They never came close to his cottage, stopping just at the edge of the tree line, beyond the circle of stone he was preparing for his barrier. He just hoped that she would tire of this soon and return back to the village.

However, one day became two, two became three, three became a week and one day mid-autumn, while working on a rune structure to draw mana from the surrounding environment, he finally had enough.

Slamming his door open he grabbed the startled girl by the back of her shirt and practically carried her all the way back to the village, like a scolded kitten. The villagers quickly gathered when he arrived and he dropped her before the gathered village, confronting the village chief.

“What. Is. This. About?”

The chief almost went as pale as his whitening hair, but Azrael didn’t care. Day in and DAY OUT. THIS GIRL HAD BEEN SITTING IN FRONT OF HIS DOOR. NOT A WORD, NOT A SOUND! JUST WATCHING HIM WITH NO EXPLANATION. SHE’D BEEN THERE FROM DAWN TILL DUSK AND DAWN AGAIN FOR WEEKS! HER VERY PRESENCE CONSTANTLY GRATED ON HIS NERVES AND MADE IT HARD TO THINK.

He asked the chief again “What is this about?”

The chief seemed ready to faint by now and it was one of the women that had brought the girl food that answered. She curtsied low, her face cast down.

“F-Forgive m-me my Lord. This weak and unworthy one speaks. T-The young one, Alena, wishes to ask for your strength. She is an orphan, taken care of by the village, her caretaker was killed by the invaders. She wishes to grow strong for revenge. She is mute. She meant no disrespect, she…”

The woman’s word’s choked off as she became aware of Azrael’s gaze.

Why, he wondered, did people try to make his life so hard? He’d literally told them not to bother him. It was one of the only three orders he’d given them! What was so hard about that? And hadn’t he expressly said that no-one was to come to his lake shore? Why couldn’t they listen??

He let out a slow suffering sigh, letting a lot of his irritation and anger drain away. He’d tried to be nice, he’d tried to be kind, but for some reason he wasn’t getting through. Was it really that hard to listen to his requests?!?! He’d only given them, what, four? Maybe it was a different world view. In a world of magic, where you could die any day, the native inhabitants would grasp at any straw they could to survive. If they could only accept the law of power, then he would be the dragon. Powerful, untouchable, dangerous.

He straightened himself, cooling his gaze and let a crown of golden flames explode into being over his head. Shadows danced on his face, and the earth seemed to shake as he fed his mana into it, frightening the villagers. If they wanted power, then he would show them power. In the background he felt [Dramatic Flair] activate, multiplying the theatrics affects. He channelled everything he had into a powerful and regal persona.

He turned his hardened gaze onto the cowering girl on the ground, before beginning to speak. Not as Azrael, but as their Lord.

“Do you Alena” He asked, his gaze focused unwaveringly on her “daughter of the village, swear upon your true name to tie your fate to mine. To devote yourself to my cause and to serve me and only me, loyally and unfailingly. To give your life to me, until the day death should part you from this world.”

Silence filled the village and he saw some villagers pale. Internally he smiled at his act. In a moment the girl would break into tears, intimidated by his acting and return to the villagers. She would be too frightened of him to hang around his house and the problem would be solved.

It took the words a few moments to sink in and register, and he heard more than one of the adults gasp from shock of what he’d said. He knew exactly why, it was practically a slave contract. There was no way any sane person would accept those terms. Already the villagers were trying to talk the girl out of it. The person in question, just sat on their knees, their head bowed as if under a heavy weight. He could see it slowly crushing her.

“Alena..” the village chief began, but he never got any further. The girl just nodded in acceptance and immediately Azrael felt his whole soul stretch out, reaching out, spanning the space between them. It touched something.

A silent gong rung out from between him and the girl and his soul snapped back into place. He stared at her in shock. Something, he knew, had irrevocably changed. Deep in his soul he felt link between them, tying her life and her fate to his. The next notification to show up only further reinforced this new reality.

[Oath of Eternal Servitude]

There are deeper ways to be bound then by blood.

You have fulfilled an [Oath of Eternal Servitude] with the individual ‘Alena’.

Alena’s life and fate are now irrevocably and intrinsically linked to your own.

[This oath cannot be broken]

Congratulations!

Due to the nature of your oath and the influence of {God Watched}, the God of Death has taken an interest in you and presided over this oath. You have gained the title {Oath Maker)

{Oath Maker}

A word alone can be the rise and fall of nations.

All oaths that you make are now witnessed by the God of Death.

Oaths that you make can no longer be broken, or absolved.

“…”

It was divine retribution. He knew it! Those gods had just been waiting for a moment to screw him over! What had he ever done to deserve this?

Congratulations!

Due to experiencing unusual circumstances in regard to your soul you have gained five levels in [Soul Sense].

That last notification felt like a bit of a consolation prize.