It was his first time visiting this London library, and he had gotten his hopes up reading one of the library guides, only to find out, in an attempt to visit that floor, that he did not have the clearance. More disappointing than the look of the forms they had saddled him with if he wanted to access those prophecy records was the librarian’s advice that it might take months to receive the permit, if he was granted one at all.
Loath to leave without achieving something, Savino instead made his way to the public Divination section; he hadn’t brought nearly enough of his symbol reference books with him to London, and there was one in particular he was missing. He hadn’t found it yet - in fact, he’d only just stepped into the section at all when some tarot cards, lifted from a table in the wind, tumbled towards him through the air, one of them smacking into his arm and falling to his feet.
He stooped to pick the couple of cards up, admiring their designs and identifying each one in spite of himself before he made his way over to where they had come from, to a young lady seated before an open window, her hand on the rest of the deck.
“Was this in your spread?” Savino asked in slightly-accented English, taking care to place the Knight of Cups the right way up in front of her, not about to prescribe doom where it had not previously lain. He probably ought to step away and leave her to it, but he couldn’t help himself from smiling at her. “That’s good news.”
Loath to leave without achieving something, Savino instead made his way to the public Divination section; he hadn’t brought nearly enough of his symbol reference books with him to London, and there was one in particular he was missing. He hadn’t found it yet - in fact, he’d only just stepped into the section at all when some tarot cards, lifted from a table in the wind, tumbled towards him through the air, one of them smacking into his arm and falling to his feet.
He stooped to pick the couple of cards up, admiring their designs and identifying each one in spite of himself before he made his way over to where they had come from, to a young lady seated before an open window, her hand on the rest of the deck.
“Was this in your spread?” Savino asked in slightly-accented English, taking care to place the Knight of Cups the right way up in front of her, not about to prescribe doom where it had not previously lain. He probably ought to step away and leave her to it, but he couldn’t help himself from smiling at her. “That’s good news.”
