Pandora's Box

8. Delian

"I haven't seen this in eons..." The man muses, running a finger over the carvings on the inner lid of the box.

I scoop up the remainder of my cards and push myself to my feet. "Excuse me?"

The man drags his eyes away from the box and turns his attention to me. I shiver involuntarily as his gaze finds mine; his brows creasing in concentration as he stares at my face for a few seconds longer than what a normal person might find appropriate. We stand there, staring each other down for what seems like an eternity before I realize that I can't Sense him. In fact, I can't Sense anyone nearby. The white noise of the world's emotional baggage is silent. The sensation is off-putting to me. I can only imagine that it would be similar to a seeing person suddenly going blind mid-blink, or a hearing person going deaf between one step and the next.

This is the second time in as many days that my Sense has failed me. What is going on? Am I losing my abilities?

Before I can tumble too far into a mental tailspin over the loss of my Sense, the man straightens, casually adjusting his jacket and holding the box out to me.

"I meant I haven't seen such exquisite craftsmanship in ages," he says. "The carvings are a similar style to several of the pieces in this exhibit. Where did you get such a thing?"

I reply without thinking as I snatch the box back and place the cards inside. "It was a gift."

"A gift from whom?" He pries.

I bristle, in part because it's none of his business but also because I don't know, and I'm already getting tired of how much I don't know about my past. And that's why I'm here, I remind myself.

Time to gamble.

"I don't know, actually. I was hoping to learn something about it here," I admit.

The man's eyes light up and he grins. It's dazzling and I have to fight the urge to turn away. He claps his hands, then reaches for the nametag on his jacket, tapping it twice.

"Excellent! Wonderful! A mystery, I love it! Would you allow me to assist you in this quest for knowledge?" He steps back on one foot, dropping into a graceful - if eccentric - bow. "Dr. Delian Apelos, curator of this exhibit and Greek history aficionado, at your service!"

For a moment, his unbridled joy and playful manner remind me of Indie. My stomach twists; I wish I could ask Indie for help. Dr. Delian Apelos does seem like a suitable replacement though, now that my initial annoyance at his appearance has worn off. I just wish I could gauge him with my Sense; it's difficult for me to trust anyone without knowing who they really are. I don't have any other options though, so I decide to proceed with caution.

"I would appreciate that, thank you, Dr. Apelos," I say.

"Delian, please! Now, what is it you were trying to do with the mythologies exhibit?" He asks.

"Ah, truthfully I don't know. Match the pictures in the box to the myths, I guess? I don't know much about Greek anything so I figured that was as good a place as any..." I trail off, hearing how lame this sounds now that I'm saying it out loud.

Delian's grin turns to a mischievous smirk. "As good a place as any indeed. But you don't need to scroll through this... thing," he gestures at the touch screen and a note of disdain colors his voice. "Come, we can talk in my office and I can recount any Greek myth, fact, fiction, story, or history that you could possibly imagine. And probably some that you can't," he muses.

No shortage of confidence with this one, I think, as I follow him out of the exhibit hall and into a tucked away administrative wing of the museum.