Handy’s eyes widened slightly at that revelation. He opened his mouth to speak, but, thinking better of it, bit back his question. It took him a moment to digest the implications. He sat back for a moment and thought about it seriously. Old magic users said something that sounded very oath-like, but at the same time conditional, as if making a bargain with someone. They practiced a bloodletting ritual to do so, so clearly not just any chump with an arcane education could do what they do. The power was a gift from… something. Finally, it was sealed in the warlock’s own blood, and it cost them portions of their very selves if they did not adhere to the rules of the deal. It was like a pact or… or a covenant.