Even though time and space don’t matter in this world, the Fool ran into the Knight of Cups somewhere and sometime. A man on a horse came riding over the moors at a confident trot. As the rider got closer, the Fool saw that he was a knight in armor, complete with a helmet and a lance.
The Fool noticed then that the world didn’t quite look right. It was hazy, and things kept shifting, almost like someone was making a decision in that very moment about what of his surroundings should exist. The ground moved under his feet and yet 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 out 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, in place of the windmill, stood a large blue dragon. Lightning came shooting out of its mouth. Then it roared, a terrifying sound that shook the very soul of the Fool.
Quick! the Knight yelled. My lance!
The Fool handed the Knight his lance and the Knight kicked his white horse into action, charging the giant blue dragon at a hard gallop. The dragon got down low on his front legs, his tail swishing back and forth behind him as he waited to leap onto the puny human and horse that were headed right at him.
What was this old man doing? He was charging towards certain death! 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.
The Knight stopped short right as the dragon leapt into the air to pounce on the charging man, but it was late in noticing that the man had stopped. The Knight held up his lance with both arms, and braced for impact. As the dragon impaled himself on the Knight’s lance, a mighty scream emanated from the cobalt serpent and 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. A white horse was munching up grass and an old man was sitting on the ground, wearing a barber bowl on his head and 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, still vibrating from the impact. The Knight was still laughing.
That was so fun! The Knight 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. It made the windmill move a little. The windmill creaked with age. The horse moved to feed on another clump of grass.
Sancho, the Knight said to the Fool, help me up.
The Fool helped the Knight back up and onto his horse. He could feel that the armor was made out of paper. The Knight’s 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 he rode off.
The Fool smiled at the silly old man retreating. He liked the Knight’s imagination. It was powerful.