Even though time and space don’t matter in this world, the Fool ran into the Knight of Cups somewhere and sometime. The Fool saw a man on a horse riding over the moors at a confidant trot. As he got closer he saw that he was a knight in armor, a helmet, and a lance.
The Fool noticed that the world didn’t quite look right. It was hazy and things kept shifting almost like someone was making a decision right then about what should exist. The ground moved under his feet, but he didn’t feel any movement. The Knight hailed him and trotted over.
Sancho, the Knight said, where have you been?
The Fool did not know what the Knight was talking about. Who was Sancho?
The Knight was old. He had a long white mustache and his face was leathery. He squinted in the sun. His hands were knotted with arthritis and liver spots. His voice was scratchy but still held a confident timbre.
The Knight held the lance to the Fool who took it and held it while the Knight took off his gloves. He pointed to a windmill off in the distance.
There is the beast! The Knight exclaimed, we are here to end its reign of terror.
The Fool was about to tell the Knight that it was just an old windmill that was falling apart when the windmill began to shake. Rocks blew up everywhere and there stood a large blue dragon. It began to shoot lightning out of its mouth. Then it roared. It was a terrifying sound that shook the very soul of the Fool.
Quick! The Knight yelled, my lance!
The Fool handed the Knight his lance who then kicked his white horse into action. He charged the giant blue dragon at a hard gallop. The dragon got down low on his front legs and his tail swished back and forth behind him waiting to leap on the puny human and horse that headed right at him.
The Fool wanted to run, but he also wanted to see if this old man could kill a dragon. He certainly didn’t want to watch the dragon kill the old man. What was this old man doing? He was charging towards certain death.
The Knight stopped short as the dragon leapt into the air to leap on the charging man, but was late in noticing that the man stopped. The Knight held up his lance with both arms and braced for impact. The dragon impaled himself on the Knight’s lance. A mighty scream emanated from the cobalt serpent that shook the ground.
The Fool closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t know if that was enough to kill a dragon. He hadn’t really read up on dragon slaying.
When he opened his eyes he was standing in a field. He saw the old dilapidated windmill and a white horse munching up grass and an old man sitting on the ground wearing a barber bowl on his head, and he was laughing.
The Fool walked up to the Knight to see if he was okay. A long piece of wood was stuck in the bricks of the windmill and it was still vibrating from the impact. The Knight kept laughing.
That was so fun! He exclaimed. Did you see the dragon?
The Fool nodded his head.
Good, the Knight said, you pretended with me. Sometimes it’s good to pretend.
A cool evening breeze blew through and it made the windmill move a little. It creaked with age. The horse moved a little to find another clump of grass to feed on.
Sancho, the Knight said to the Fool, help me up.
The Fool helped the Knight back up and on to his horse. He felt the armor that was made out of paper. His sword was wooden. He sat on the horse with his back straight looking out into the distance.
I now will look for a new quest, the Knight said and rode off.
The Fool smiled at the retreating silly old man. He liked the Knight’s imagination. It was powerful.