Probability waltz

Prioritizing understanding the nature of the relic over direct communication, Adrian, satisfied that it wasn't an evil artifact, now sought to uncover how it could be of use.

"As a man in need, I don't see any shame in wearing heels if it comes to it," Adrian contemplated with a pragmatic outlook.

Adrian entertained thoughts he never would have considered before, but the situation demanded it. He held high hopes for this living relic, believing it might possess the powers he currently needed to gain entry into the temple.

Turning his gaze back to the heels, Adrian spoke while extending his hands towards them, "Let me see what kind of relic you actually are." Done speaking, Adrian grabbed the heels and closed his eyes.

Relics, in their essence, were items meant to be used by both core bearers and ordinary beings. Typically, relics didn't discriminate in terms of their users. However, living relics presented a different narrative.

Living relics had their own preferences and aversions. Observing the way the heels had been trailing him, Adrian held high hopes that he wouldn't face rejection.

His hopes remained intact as the heels didn't display much of a reaction to Adrian inspecting them closely.

Holding the heels, Adrian immersed himself in sensing their nature, and after a while, he slowly opened his eyes.

"Not sure if she would have liked this relic or not," Adrian mumbled, having a sense of the kind of person she was.

"She probably considered having Vyrtalis as her son the luckiest thing that happened to her," Adrian mused with a hint of reflection in his voice.

Adrian discovered that the heels possessed a peculiar power known as probability manipulation.

True to its name, the heels had the ability to alter the course of someone's luck. This power was remarkably useful in various situations. Consider a scenario where you're in a battle, and your opponent suddenly slips or loses their balance – that's the kind of impact it could have.

However, like every relic, the heels came with a drawback. It struggled to keep its influence under control, and the core bearer wearing them was susceptible to this unpredictable influence – that was the downside.

"Not that I need it right now. I can simply use it to make me lucky enough to get inside that temple, and that would be fine," Adrian contemplated, finding a practical use for the heels' power.

With this in mind, Adrian looked at the heels and pondered how he was supposed to wear them now. The concern wasn't just about them being heels designed for women, but more so about the size.

"Can you adjust your size at least? I'm not going to complain about your appearance," Adrian figured there was no point in overthinking it and decided to ask the heels directly.

Waiting for the heels to respond to his question and seeing no reaction, Adrian simply sighed.

Sitting down on the ground and scanning the surroundings, Adrian couldn't help but think about the skinwalker and the other mysterious entity he had encountered.

"Where have they gone? It's weird how none of them followed me here," Adrian thought inwardly, suddenly realizing that perhaps they were actively avoiding this place, unlike him.

There was no point in dwelling on such matters, so Adrian ceased pondering about them, knowing he had other tasks at hand.

His first task was to devise a plan to enter the temple and uncover its secrets. His second objective involved returning to the tree to delve further into Vyrtalis's memories, seeking answers about what had befallen him and–here.

His third consideration revolved around the heels. Looking at them, Adrian couldn't shake the feeling that it was somewhat lacking for a living relic.

In comparison to other living relics he had encountered, this notion couldn't help but take root in Adrian's mind. Typically, relics of considerable power were the ones that could autonomously construct their own consciousness. However, here were the heels, equipped with a single ability and living properties.

It simply didn't sit well with Adrian. The idea was difficult for him to accept as it didn't align with the norm. Yet, he pondered why Vyrtalis would give his mother such a powerful relic in this secluded forest, far removed from the tumultuous affairs.

This underscored the importance of Vyrtalis's memories for Adrian. He sought to explore what Vyrtalis had experienced and where he had ventured.

"I'm still far from knowing why I am here in the first place. What is it that she wants me to achieve here?" Adrian wondered, the purpose of his presence in this enigmatic place lingering as an unanswered question.

Unable to decipher the motives behind the Mother Gaze's actions, Adrian felt compelled to explore whatever he found, uncertain of what he was truly searching for.

This made it challenging for him to dismiss the potential dangers lurking everywhere, acknowledging that he didn't have much of a choice and was acutely aware of the risks.

"Hunting monsters should have made me stronger one way or another, but that's not helpful as well. What am I even supposed to do when I am this weak?" Adrian pondered, grappling with the limitations of his current state.

His thoughts were beginning to veer away from the path of optimism as frustration started to set in.

Rising from his position, Adrian turned his gaze to the heels. "Can you take me inside that temple?" he inquired, as it seemed like the only viable path for him to pursue.

Recognizing that entering the temple was a crucial step to make progress in his situation, Adrian considered it a course of action set in stone. Despite being aware of the potential risks, he couldn't ignore the significance of going inside.

'I'm already living a borrowed life anyway.' 

*****

"Finally, he's strutting into that temple, and here I was, ready for him to chicken out. I forgot he wasn't scared of anything when he was alive, well, kinda alive now – in his own peculiar way. Finding a shard without breaking a sweat? I guess he's got brains to spare. I was expecting more entertainment, but nope, he goes kneeling in front of someone else, not me! I mean, come on, he's my shadow, literally! Maybe I should spice up the punishment when he's back, but then he might start hating me. Ugh, decisions! Why did I even send him there? Am I being too villainous or just misunderstood? Decisions, decisions – being an evil overlord is so frustrating!"

The ranting continued unabated, and the lifeless puppet in her grasp, moving like a doll on strings, had no way to chime in on her myriad of concerns. 

It just swayed there, caught in the dramatic monologue of its overlord, a silent participant in the chaos of existential questions and villainous indecision.