They never try to control the Eye with dogma. Their rituals are practical: they catalog the vows made to it, they advise petitioners on phrasing (a precaution born of experience), and they offer, sometimes, to bear a cost for someone else. Those who ask must pay—either by toil, memory, or service. The Watchers keep a rule: never use the Eye to erase a thing already paid for. Consequences compound; attempts to reverse them create entanglements the world resents.
The Promise. If a bearer speaks a vow to the Eye—an honest, deliberate promise—it will shape the world to keep that vow, bending chance and coincidence to align. Kings have used it to secure marriages, generals to win sieges, lovers to bind each other through storms. But vows spoken to the Eye obey neither nuance nor mercy; the instrument neither understands intent nor forgives expedience. A vow to “protect my child” can result in the child’s being kept away from all warmth, wrapped in barred safety for a lifetime. The Eye keeps the letter of the vow with terrifying loyalty. rpgremuz the eye