Chapter 172 The Fools Eyes (1/2)
The little charm that Olly clung to so tightly was the only thing that allowed him to influence the Mist. It was a powerful thing, the Mist. Powerful and mysterious. Even Olly, who had read and watched and listened to it all his life found its intricacies undecipherable. Still, as he'd learned over the years, being able to listen was gift enough. There were plenty of people who didn't. Plenty of people who let it pass them by. Even those who had the ability to influence the Mist rarely sat down to look and listen unless it was necessary. Olly supposed that was the reason why these charms had been so astounding, and why even Magicians couldn't work out how to create them.
It was because they were listening.
Ever since Olly had seen the miraculous affects of the charm, and not just what the Mist had told him, Olly had drawn the circle within a circle many times. So many that he'd long ago lost count. The abandoned apartment he'd squatted in had been filled with the run for protection. Over and over and over he'd drawn it, though he'd never been able to imbue it with the power that the charm had. He'd known there was something missing. But only wasn't drawing the rune so he could replicate the affects, even if given the right tools he could. He was drawing it because for the first time since he was born, he'd been able to give the Mist, that mysterious and all-encompassing substance, meaning.
To be able to communicate with it. To have it understand what he wanted so that he wasn't just listening and interpreting. It was a powerful thing. Olly had never felt so powerful despite only being able to communicate one thing.
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Protection. Protection. Protection. Protection…
It was repeated over and over all around him. Not imbued with power like the charm, but understood all the same.
Protection. Protection. Protection. Protection…
The Mist, having known Olly and guided him for so long, had contemplated for a long time on how to reply. Olly was after all, not giving it a purpose. It was more like, a request. At least, that was how the Mist saw the symbols that Olly drew. It saw a request, and having never had any request from him before, it had to search. It had to seek out what he was asking for and then give him a choice.
Now, finally, it was ready.
As Olly sketched out another protection rune, his eyes wide and excited like they had been for weeks, he suddenly paused, the Mist swirling around him, then showing him what he desired.
There were several images, all side by side. Choices, options. The Mist had never given him choices before, it simply advised him on a path and he followed.
Now, as he looked at the images before him, he realised that while he might not be able to influence the Mist directly, that didn't mean he couldn't do anything but listen. The runes. The runes had given him this opportunity.
Olly looked at the images before him. Watching them and the possibilities they presented. Eventually, he narrowed his choice down to four of them. The first was a woman, a woman that the wind listened to and followed joyously.
The second was also a woman, this one was pretty and petite, but her eyes held authority, and behind her was a mountain of evanine.
The third image was of a man decked in finery, an arrogant smile on his face and an ink-like shadow at his back.