The Lost Prince
The Hierophant
Ten of Swords | Three of Cups | Six of Cups
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Two days ago Adrian had been a prince, and now that the time had come to take up the mantle of king he was nothing. From amidst the ash of a scorched forest he glanced back at his castle. The towering monument of stone and fog was cold looking as it had ever been, and colder now in his heart. He was no longer welcome there, though he had once been proud to call it his home.
Into the woods he went. He stepped over blackened ground and walked between the ghosts of proud trees until he reached the place where the fire had stopped, the moment the rain came. Ash coated bustling leaves, leaving the forest even grayer for the fog that hung cold and heavy beneath the canopy.
Days passed as he walked. Frozen nights and hungry mornings had little respite. He just kept going. Whatever sorrow he felt gave way to nothingness, and hunger surrendered to acceptance. He’d probably die in that forest, and that was fine.
It was with an odd sense of waking that he stepped out of the numbness to realize where he was. Adrian looked about himself, realizing with no shortage of wonder that he had stepped right into a ring of mushrooms. He wasn’t sure if he felt guilty or disturbed, but he remembered something from his childhood and knelt upon the decaying bed of leaves, fingers digging gently into the dirt. He repeated to words once taught to him, the playful, mischievous language of the fae, and let his head fall exhausted to the forest floor.
And wept.
After many hours, or possibly days, Adrian felt a hand land gently over his head. “You remembered.”
He looked up and felt that his heart might escape him with all the warmth that rushed into it. A familiar face smiled back, and it was several moments before Adrian could bring himself to speak, “Liliana. I-it’s been years.” Blearily he sat up, and upon observing his surroundings he realized he was no longer in the forest.
“You used my blessing and summoned me to you. Good thing too, as you would normally have been punished for your clumsiness.”
The woods were gone. Strange and beautiful or horrifying figures passed around them, beings he’d never seen before. The dreary fog was replaced by bright sun and a fantastic array of colors, growing, worn and held. “I’m in the land of fae, is this, how could I pass through?”
“We’ve no use for mortal princes here any more than your people have use for a broken one. But you may stay here, because I say so.
Ten of Swords | Three of Cups | Six of Cups
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Two days ago Adrian had been a prince, and now that the time had come to take up the mantle of king he was nothing. From amidst the ash of a scorched forest he glanced back at his castle. The towering monument of stone and fog was cold looking as it had ever been, and colder now in his heart. He was no longer welcome there, though he had once been proud to call it his home.
Into the woods he went. He stepped over blackened ground and walked between the ghosts of proud trees until he reached the place where the fire had stopped, the moment the rain came. Ash coated bustling leaves, leaving the forest even grayer for the fog that hung cold and heavy beneath the canopy.
Days passed as he walked. Frozen nights and hungry mornings had little respite. He just kept going. Whatever sorrow he felt gave way to nothingness, and hunger surrendered to acceptance. He’d probably die in that forest, and that was fine.
It was with an odd sense of waking that he stepped out of the numbness to realize where he was. Adrian looked about himself, realizing with no shortage of wonder that he had stepped right into a ring of mushrooms. He wasn’t sure if he felt guilty or disturbed, but he remembered something from his childhood and knelt upon the decaying bed of leaves, fingers digging gently into the dirt. He repeated to words once taught to him, the playful, mischievous language of the fae, and let his head fall exhausted to the forest floor.
And wept.
After many hours, or possibly days, Adrian felt a hand land gently over his head. “You remembered.”
He looked up and felt that his heart might escape him with all the warmth that rushed into it. A familiar face smiled back, and it was several moments before Adrian could bring himself to speak, “Liliana. I-it’s been years.” Blearily he sat up, and upon observing his surroundings he realized he was no longer in the forest.
“You used my blessing and summoned me to you. Good thing too, as you would normally have been punished for your clumsiness.”
The woods were gone. Strange and beautiful or horrifying figures passed around them, beings he’d never seen before. The dreary fog was replaced by bright sun and a fantastic array of colors, growing, worn and held. “I’m in the land of fae, is this, how could I pass through?”
“We’ve no use for mortal princes here any more than your people have use for a broken one. But you may stay here, because I say so.