[justify][indent][indent]Time blurred in the crawl between chambers. When the others slept, Aramis’ mind kept him up. His mind constantly running theories. The labyrinth didn’t care for his logic, but he measured it anyway, a stubborn defiance against the unknown. He spoke rarely, his voice becoming hoarse from disuse while he saved words for questions that might matter. None of the answers ever felt right, but the asking kept him steady.

By the time the corridor opened into the mirrored hall, his thoughts had narrowed to focus. The reflections made the room feel endless, each surface throwing the group’s shapes back a hundredfold. Silver-veined runes climbed the pillars like veins of light, pulsing faintly with their own rhythm. 

Aramis stayed where he was, a few paces behind Evie and Locke. He didn’t trust this place enough to drift. But his eyes compulsively tracked the nearest pillar all the same, almost against his better judgement, squinting through the soft layer of dirt lingering on his lenses to follow the shapes of the etchings.

He adjusted his glasses, leaning just enough to catch the details, angles, intersections, and symmetry. Every line looked intentional. He breathed out slow, quiet enough not to break the medic’s negotiation. His lips moved soundlessly, tracing patterns, testing them against the web of arcane languages and glyphwork stored in his head. A thought surfaced, and he murmured under his breath, mostly to himself: [colour=536dfe]“...Do I.. know you?”[/colour][/indent][/indent][/justify]
[hr]
[hider=Economy and Narration][indent]
[b]OOC:[/b] 		Aramis follows the group but is too intrigued by the runes to [i]not[/i] examine them.

[b]Skill used:[/b] 	Educated F [Scholar][/indent][/hider]