Page 51 of Florescentia

“Please let me check your coat, sir,” the hostess insisted.

He looked at her, but his expression gave away that he hadn’t heard a word she’d said; then he looked back to me for help.

I gestured to my shoulders, his coat.

“Of course.” He shook it off and let her whisk it away. If you looked closely, the dark fabric emitted a slight haze, much like the beast himself when he appeared as a dark void.

He rolled his shoulders back, now in only his shirt and vest, with many odd accessories. Two watch chains, double cuff links, sleeve garters. Most notably, peeking out from the starched collar were the inky markings on his neck, and the thin star on his forehead where his third eye should have been. Tattoos were more acceptable if they looked like they had religious meanings. His markings were celestial enough to pass as acceptable, though the marking placement on the face was bold. When you picked a pretty exterior, no one seemed to care about conformity, I supposed, so he would fare well.

We were placed in a corner booth, the light purple suede custom dyed to match the theme of the Everium. The walls were covered in floor-to-ceiling mirrors, the interior flowers matching the theme in the corners and table placements. The ceiling was painted with a dreamy scene of the four constellations’ patrons, separated by circular skylights.

Another host greeted us and was about to place an Everie deck on the table before I held my hand up, rejecting the offer.

“What is this place?” The beast stared at his surroundings like an enamored child.

Within the depths of my satchel, I fished out my own personal touch for the morning. I placed my Everie deck in front of me on the table. I split and shuffled them. The buzzing of snapping cards as I flicked them, getting a good mix before we began.

“This is an Everium,” I said, my eyes snapping up to him. “Do you know about the Everie cards?”

He gave me a blank stare, a small head shake.

“So you know the secrets of the universe, but not about a little card?”

“When the weight of the universe’s secrets are heavier than gravity itself, there’s little room for micro knowledge.”

“Perfect, then I have something to present to you.” I stacked the cards neatly, ready to pull.

“What are they?”

“Just cards,” I assured him. “They tell you things. About yourself, your future, your path,” I explained.

“You pray to cards, then?”

“No, generally we pray to stars.” I pulled a card off the top, then slid it to him.

He looked at it, hands in his lap and waiting. After a moment, he looked back at me.

I gestured to the card. “Turn it.”

He picked it up, flipping it.

An Altair in Nova.

The gilded card shimmered, even without direct light. The gold-and-silver accents were striking against the deep navy paper, stunning against the matte texture.

“Altair.” He lifted the card, inspecting the glint. The metallic reflections shimmered across his face. “Is this a constellation?” He turned it toward me, his finger tapping the star pattern above the eagle.

“Yes,” I said.

He smiled and turned it back to himself. “I like it.”

“The stars?”

“The name.”

“Do you have one?”

“I want this one,” he said. “Altair,” he repeated, like he was testing the name on his tongue.