"Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back" - Anonymous.

Curiosity is an emotion, a force, a pure impulse of nature that can place the careless at a dagger's edge if not mindful. On this sharp scale, the weight of a grain of sand can prove of fatal importance. Aria, personifying that very grain, understood not to falter. Any stumble on her part could lead her emotions to betray her and direct the man holding the scale to search for her. To search his memory for the person Aria had once been and to ask the questions Aria did not long to answer.

Why am I here?

You did something wrong.

Aria stood on the inn's stained and scuffed hardwood floor, her eyes locked on the pair before her - eyes that were blue with age and sharp with wit and knowledge - and she felt ice run through her in loo of blood. She felt as if she had been standing in place for forever and a day, with her heart echoing war drums - she felt it beat a thousand miles a minute. Outside of her, however, mere seconds had passed since Gius had turned.

Nevertheless, Aria had since seen the spark of recognition in his eyes, the spark that, if not snuffed quickly, could burn down what little Aria had built. Even if the flicker had yet to inspire a full flame, somewhere in this man's trained and practiced mind, he still knew who this face had once belonged. It was only a matter of time before the realization struck him, and it would land on him with the same strength of a blow that his presence had on Aria.

You'll like it there

The spacious room where they stood was well-lit and warmed by a lively hearth, placed in the heart of the room, where toasted stones above formed a chimney that funneled out the smoke away and into infinity. Half-wicked candles adorned the sturdy beams that bore the thatch above, before the glow of one candle could reach its limit to the light it could cast, another added it's blush, so no passerby may go cold and wanting of its incandescents. Perfect displays of dance shifted across the walls in form of shadow and light, flickering together in perfect counterbalance.

I don't.

This serenity was lost on Aria, it would seem, as it was corrupted by the quicksand she was lost in. In the narrative of her mind, this room was hades, the underworld itself, and had no olive branch to bare out to her, no clear sign of escape.

Aria felt nothing of the fire's gaze, only the sharp chill of fear run down her spine. The chimney was all but useless to her, as it was on fire's smog that Aria blamed the smoke that choked her and prevented her breath. The candel's inconsiderate attentions to her was most unwelcome of all, as it left her in full view to the prying scrutiny of the scholarly medic. Aria had never particularly invested herself in religion, but as there is no atheist in a foxhole, she prayed; prayed for a breath to bring the end of the damning spotlights, as well as the end of the unblinking gaze Guise held on her.

The internal war described has lasted the span of, perhaps, only three of four beats. Opposed to the eternity Aria has lived in her relative space, this meeting has lasted less than a proper minute, and that observation must be taken into account to understand that Guise was oblivious to the internal turmoil Aria faught. It was this ignorance that guided him to ask her the worst and most terrifying question she had ever been faced with answering.

He quirked a brow, peered at her from the bridge of his nose, and asked, " And who are you then?"

Who are you?

My name is Duncan, It is my job to keep you out of trouble.

Good luck

Her heart beat, a shot in her throat. "I am…" she replied - beat again - "I am not where I am supposed to be". Once more it drummed, though to her relief, her nerves could not be heard in her speech. To Guise, and the outward world, she seemed nothing but a stranger meeting another; while inside, a unspoken terror raged. She did not break eye contact nor did she switch her weight between her feet, as her anxious muscled pleaded her to do, no, she showed nothing of her internal desire to turn on her heel and run in the opposite direction. She had trained herself for this her entire life, this skill had worked well so far, and Aria put her faith and hope that it would pull her through this transaction. There are people in the world whom Aria let know her name and on great effort on her part there were many more people in the world whom did not. Guise already knew this name, knew this face, but Aria did not want to let him know he held this information. Aria planned to use all the powers at her disposal, every evasion tactic short of lying, to escape this bear trap around her ankle.

"Lost actually" , as she was in a way.

Are you lost again?

No

Then where do you think you are then?

With you

"And where are you meant to be?"

Home. Diera.

"Elsewhere."

"Do i know of this elsewhere? I know Camelot well, perhaps I can guide you there?" Guise would seem to any eavesdropper as a gentile man offering a helping hand to a lost young woman, his words and demeanor expressed nothing but kindness, but Aria could see his true intentions in his offer. It was a very clever way of finding out information about the person that catches your curiosity. Guise was not innocent of being curious, and that ment she was stirring his memory enough to make him want to dig in his mind for her. This was a very dangerous thing for Aria.

The innkeeper spoke now, with a loud voice so loud Aria flinched. It was a dramatic difference from the soft voices that had been shared between the pair on the other side of the counter, and the very observation of the man's ability to hear such a whispered transaction gives truth to how unneeded his volume was now.

"Guise knows this kingdom better than anyone else I've ever met! Well I wouldn't even think the king himself to know it any better! He'll get you to where you need, no question about it!"

Follow me, I know where we are

No

Why not?

I'll find my way.

"Im sure I'll find my way on my own."

"So you've been in Camelot before then…?" Again, Guise asked an innocent question that probed Aria for information about who she may be and why he felt he recognized her.

Have you ever even been here before?

Probably

She broke her gaze with Giuse and avoided the innkeeper's gaze as well, instead she looked around the room. Aria knew hear her speech could end in Guise recognize it as the voice of one who was once familiar to him, and perhaps even remind him of the people Aria had once known as her family. Aria also knew that lies would only worsen the situation by far, it was a truth known to any in Camelot that Guise could sniff out a lie within seconds.

So, Aria found a near truth to tell instead. As she gazed around the room she found no oasis in, she spoke a truth that somewhat answered his question with fewest words possible.

"Not here," she said. This was true enough, as it was only yesterday she had ever been in this particular part of town before.

Arnt you afraid?

There are few people in the world wholly unafraid. As you have observed, our heroine is not one of them. Her fear in this moment shall not be reiterated, but it does remain. There is one thing about Aria that has yet to be noted, however, that needy help explain to you why her fear has yet to overcome her and persuade her to run away. Her pride.

Aria herself would deny it's existence, but that does not definitively mean she does not posses this trait. Her father was a very prideful man, and Aria inherited this aspect of herself from him, but in him it was horrible and ended always in a bad way. In his daughter, it was the kind pride that bloomed warmth in her chest when she had done something well. The pride that prevented her from cowering away.

Of course I'm afraid, but I can do this.