Well, shit.
I wipe a fake tear from below my eye, and Grayson rolls his.
After showing our tickets on my phone, Grayson and I are let into the theatre. I nearly stumble. The entire room is circular, the ceiling domed and displaying a dazzling, lit night sky. The stars twinkle overhead as we search for our seats, the rows of chairs leading steadily downward.
There were pictures online, but seeing it in person is entirely different.
“This is gorgeous,” I whisper.
Grayson doesn’t answer me with words, but he nods his agreement, his gaze on the stars above. Conversation buzzes steadily around us as Grayson and I settle into our seats. I imagine they’ll turn the lights even dimmer once they start the show.
“Do you recognize anything?” I ask, trying to pick out constellations. The projection of the sky on the ceiling is breathtaking, and I wonder if it’s real imagery or digitally rendered.
Grayson points. “Orion’s Belt.”
“The hunter.”
He nods, hand moving over slightly. “The Big Dipper.”
“Naturally bigger than the Little Dipper.”
“Naturally,” Grayson agrees, a hint of a smile on his face. He points in another direction. “Cassiopeia.”
“Wait, which one is that?”
Grayson takes my hand, leaning against my shoulder as he draws my finger through the air in front of us. “Right there. Looks a bit like a skewed W?”
“Ah. I see it. And…the sword.”
Grayson pauses before moving my hand over. He draws the shape of the sword, up the blade, over the hilt, and then down again. “The sword in the sky.”
I’m about to ask if he likes that one best considering the fondness in his voice, but the lights in the room flicker. Grayson lets my hand go, and the theatre falls silent. A soft spotlight comes on as the ambient light dims, leaving only the stars above and the small platform at the center of the room. The woman there turns on her mic, a smile on her face I can barely make out from where we are.
“Welcome, everyone,” she says, her voice gentle and almost hushed, as if in deference to the stars themselves. “Thank you for coming tonight. We have a wonderful presentation lined up for you that focuses on the mythology behind the constellations most known to us. Now, you’ll see at the top of the seat in front of you is a small panel. This will provide a speech-to-text translation of tonight’s show. It’s also where you’ll vote on our featured constellation. So if you would,please take a moment to silence your cell phones and decide which constellation you’d like to examine most in depth. The choice, ultimately, is yours.”
Grayson and I remove our ballcaps as the presenter gives a brief overview of the planetarium, turning in place as she talks so that no one is looking at her back for long. I eye Grayson’s panel, curious about which constellation he’ll choose. Seeing him pick the sword, I quickly do the same.
He shakes his head, but there’s a smile curving his lips.
“All right, final votes please. We’re closing the poll in three, two, one. Ah. You’ve picked the Sword of Leandros. My personal favorite.”
The dome overhead shifts, the sky rearranging and the constellation of the sword coming into sharper focus. It feels as if we’re traveling toward it at an alarming speed, the sword getting bigger and bigger until it’s filling the entire ceiling, each of its stars brightly lit and connected by lines drawn to enhance its shape.
“As you can see,” the woman says, “the Sword of Leandros is made up of twelve stars, forming a near-symmetrical visual representation of a sword. It sits in the northern sky and can be seen year-round where we live. One of the most easily recognizable constellations, you likely spot it often, but you might not know the tale behind how the sword came to be in the sky.”
The projection shifts again, a warrior outlined by stars, the sword in his hand. My skin prickles, goose bumps spreading over my arms.
“The myth of Leandros originates in Greek storytelling, but it’s been found in similar variations throughout the world. The tale tells of a warrior, Leandros, known to be the fiercestswordsman of his time. He was rumored to be unbeatable. And because of this, he was a prized part of the king’s army.”
The image reforms, the warrior now standing in front of a battalion, his sword raised high, a helmet on his head. The stars making up the picture seem to glimmer, as if dancing.
“Leandros’s age isn’t precisely known, but best estimates put him to be in his late thirties at the time he fell. Because yes, like many myths and legends, this one does not have a pretty end. What we do know from his documented tales is that Leandros survived many battles, both large and small, against beasts and man.”
The projection shows a charging boar, the animal bursting into tiny stars as it meets Leandros’s blade. The entire image changes then, the rest of the warriors disappearing, the multitude of stars coalescing into the shape of a woman.
“One seemingly uneventful day, Leandros returned to his private home outside the king’s walls to find a woman waiting for him in robes of white. A goddess, worshiped and feared in equal measure for the blessings—or curses—she would lay upon the town. Her beauty was unmatched, and she demanded Leandros come with her. For he was the best warrior, and she wanted him for her own.”
The woman above holds out her hand, beckoning Leandros closer. He turns away.
