Speed dating at Blacktusk Inn - Part 7

You're getting frustrated with the incessant astrological questions. “You would be correct, my kind is not particularly plentiful in these lands. My parents had to flee their homeland, and I was born not very far from here. So, within this meridian, if that is what matters.”

Balthazar smiles, oblivious to the personal detail you just revealed. “That settles it! We should be compatible then. May I take your hand?”

You stretch your hand, expecting Balthazar to start reading your palms or measuring your fingers. He stretches his own hand forward to meet yours, and delicately grazes your fingers. In an instant, the corners of his mouth stretch his smile into a look of pure bliss. He closes his eyes as his hands explore yours, seemingly lost in the tactile sensation of your pawpads, your nails, and the fur extending from your wrists.

Balthazar opens his eyes, “I apologize, it has… it has been a while since I felt the warmth of another person. Let me explain.”

He looks around, and seeing the other patrons wrapped up in their own private conversations, he picks up his glass of wine, and slowly pours it on his palm. Before your eyes, the wine turns to water as it makes contact with his skin and starts spilling onto the table, leaving a tiny, oddly-formed pillar of gold on his palm.

Balthazar puts down his cup, snaps the gold structure off his hand, and hands it to you. “Consider it an apology for all the questions. Wine is mostly water, so it didn’t yield much, but it should be enough to cover your stay at this establishment. Allow me to explain, Taro. I’m an alchemist. I conduct magical and scientific experiments in order to, how to put it in layman’s terms…”

“Transmutate base metals to precious metals, like gold and silver”, you interject. “Librarian, remember?”

“I’m impressed! You know your stuff. My studies involve extending the practice outside of base metals, but the procedure I undertook came with a cost, and the process is involuntary. All the organic matter my hands touch turns to gold.”

You’re taken aback. “What about my…?” You think for a second. “Oh. I get it now. Alchemical processes are affected by the positions of astral bodies. I take it that people born under specific astrological conditions aren’t affected?”

Balthazar gives you a wide smile. “It’s not often I find someone that understands right away! You’re correct, exactly!” He’s about to slap the wooden table, but stops himself from doing so. “I’m sorry. I’m used to the stone tables in my study. You can see how this can be as much a curse as it is a blessing. It affects how I move, how I eat my food, how I interact with other people…” He lowers his voice. “...what places I’m able to go to…”

“I was about to ask,” you reply, “you seem a little overdressed for this establishment.”

“Alas, I cannot wear less conspicuous clothing. The wrong movement from my hands could turn a woolen cloak into a rigid, golden restraining device.” Balthazar runs his hands through his glistening shirt. “This is very, very fine chainmail. It’s not affected, see?”

“Why go through all this inconvenience to come to this part of town? I’m sure rich establishments have this sort of event too.”

Balthazar looks a little uncomfortable. “You can imagine the dating pool is very restrictive when you’re both interested in men AND unable to touch most potential lovers. I’ve gone through most of the people in my regular social circle, and I’m trying my luck elsewhere.”