Another evening, another performance. That was just how it went when you were a performer in the Tempest of Set. There was always something to do, and at the end of the day it was a job. It was a job he loved, no doubt about that--but it did keep him busy. Which, was part of why he loved his work. If he was kept busy he often had little time to think about the past, or worry about the ghosts catching up with him. At least if he kept moving he could keep his mind off the past and in the inevitable present. A sharp sword did not care if the wielder’s mind was wandering--it would cut him all the same. Much like a wild animal would maul a man despite the man having a wife and children. And so, to avoid maiming, Aelius had to remain focused at all times, on what he was doing in the present. And presently, someone was talking to him.

It was not unusual for the occasional member of the audience to interact with him--sometimes his entire act even depended on it. It was however, unexpected at this particular moment. The dancer was coming down off a particularly strong adrenaline rush after his performance, and his mind was racing in a hundred different directions all at once, as a result. Were it not for his training he might have jumped out of his skin, or what little clothing he was wearing around his loin.

“Ah, sadly so,” Aelius answered, wiping a persistent bead of sweat from his forehead. His mind had come back to his body, and he now took stock of the girl who had nearly spooked him. She was a pretty thing, alone and unprotected. She had wandered into a literal den of vipers, whether she knew that or not. Aelius did his best not to stare, she was as beautiful as the Egyptian night sky, and were Aelius feeling more dubious, perhaps he might have made his own advances.

“To both of those questions," he amended, realizing that she had asked multiple questions. Fortunately two of them were easy to answer and did not require much thought on his behalf. Her final question however gave him pause for a moment. “ A repeat performance?” he repeated, not quite sure he understood the question. No two performances were the same, they could be close, but never the same. That was the nature of art--any art, not just his.

“Why would you want a repeat performance when you could have something only your eyes have ever seen? Why settle?” The dancer paused a moment, his heart had slowed to its normal pace, and his breathing had slowed as well. He was always tired after a show, if he wasn’t Amenemhat would probably have worn his hide for a coat. Not that he needed any motivation to put his heart and soul into his craft, but having the Ringmaster’s approval was an added bonus. What pleased his master, pleased him.

“You know what,” he mused, an idea forming in his mind as he thought of his master. What would he do?

“I do believe I have an idea. I can’t speak to my fellow performers, but I’m willing to give you a show for the low price of a secret. And I do not mean something easy and surface secret. But, of course, I would accept coin if you had to debase yourself with such a boring exchange. What say you, then, fair...?” he trailed off, waiting for the woman to fill in her name, or whatever name she chose to give. He cared little as names were strange things, and he found them oddly inflexible for such chaotic things as humans, but custom was custom.

Aelius found it easy to be enraptured by his new found fan. Anastasia, hm? Clearly a fellow foreigner in these sandy lands. He felt his heart ease a bit at that realization. There were plenty of foreigners in the circus, it was part of the appeal after all. But it was different. Outside of the Tempest he was still a stranger in a strange land--no one that Egypt would remember when the sands of time eventually buried him. Outside of his role and his faith, he was no one special. Some days that was exactly what he wanted--to be a ghost. Other days it weighed heavier on him then he cared to admit.

He tried not to beam with pride when she complimented him, but was unsuccessful as a shadow of a smile slipped out of his otherwise stoic face. He would hold on to that energy for a while. Praise had always motivated him, and an appeal to his vanity was the fastest way to his heart, but what performer was without their pride? He gave everything to his faith, and to Amenemhat, but the glow of joy at a few words of praise he would keep to himself, and let them nurture him in secret.

“What kind of secret, hm?” he thought for a moment, tapping a blade against his lip as though it might help his thoughts organize themselves. Truthfully he had not expected to get this far, nor for his offer to be seriously considered. But what were these strange negotiations of not another dance? He knew the steps, but the pattern was different.

“What kind of show should I give you?” he asked, instead of giving an answer that was of any use. “It only seems fair that the price of admission match the performance. Or, perhaps the other way around, but still. Anastasia, my life may be in your hands. Is that not worth something particularly dark and hidden? Or perhaps you merely want to watch a dance, in which death is not present? Then mayhaps a secret that is not so deadly would be in order. Ultimately, I bend to your wish, such is the way of us poor circus folk,” he said with mock solemnity.

He was intrigued now, and whatever fatigue had been starting to creep into his muscles was quickly gone away as his body readied once more to perform. When given the chance to show off the art that he had spent years developing he knew he would take any chance given to him. Anastasia was giving him just that, but also the chance to have some fun. Strange as it was, there was a dance they were composing right now, words could just as deep as a sword--and in the right circumstance sometimes even leave more devastating wounds.

Aelius crossed his arms over his chest and was silent a moment as he let his partner consider her next move. Whatever she asked, he would do, provided of course the pay matched the task. For now, he was not worried. He had done nearly every terrible thing for his belief, and for his master, and he would do it all again. Anything Anastasia could request would pale in comparison, but that was beyond the point. For the moment, he was having fun.