After Baron Samedi banished the Fool from the church, a vision appeared to the Fool: ten cups floating up, each dripping water into the next. The sound of the water falling was loud. Sunflower and lotus flowers were attached to some of the cups and helped guide the water down the line.
The vision made the Fool euphoric. He had never felt so good in his life – like he was floating in a womb with soft walls and thick air that tasted of wine. He was dreaming of the best dream he had ever dreamt. He floated with the vision and wished with all his might that he could just stay there. It was his home, his heaven, his Eden, the place where he wished to end his existence.
The Baron spoke knowingly to the Fool about this vision. This is a vision, the Baron said. This isn’t a real thing, but you and many others strive for this vision. Some will die trying to see this while others will know to never look again.
You can collect each of these cups individually, the Baron said, and some will build this in their lifetime, but most will only have one or two of these cups.
To know how to achieve these cups, the Baron continued, you must know what you want. Many people think they know what a perfect relationship is, but don’t want this for themselves. Instead they fool themselves by chasing other people’s dreams. You must know which cup you are seeking, or you will never find this cup.
Once found, a cup can be lost, the Baron said. Some have held a cup for a matter of minutes before losing it forever. All this takes is thinking you want more cups, or other cups. All this takes is to be disappointed in the cup to lose it. Some people start out with a cup and spend the rest of their lives looking for it again.
The Fool stared at the chalices, slack-jawed and dazed. He felt like he was dying a beautiful death.
You won’t stay here, the Baron said, for you must go on.
Each of those cups carries a light, the Baron said. This is the journey each person makes: to find those lights, and make them glow.
The Fool thought about the shepherd boy and how they’d made each other’s light glow. He yearned to see that boy again, but he knew that the boy had been dead for centuries now. He started grieving, and under the shower of cups, it felt good. It was a bittersweet memory.
He remembered seeing The Tower, and wanting to live there, to have stability. And he remembered that, the next moment, the Tower was destroyed by lightning.
Go, Baron Samedi said, go be this light and find those lights for yourself. Go and show other people those lights.
The Fool was torn between staying there, by the fountain of cups, feeling the euphoria numb him to the world, or going and being the light the Baron was saying he could be. He wanted to get up, but his body betrayed him. He was stuck.
Out of the water, dripping down, came the Priestess. She held out her hand. The Fool reached out and grabbed onto it and felt himself being pulled up and out of his high stupor. He was being carried into the fog and away from the cups and flowers.
He felt sick. He begged to be taken back to the fountain, but the Priestess held on tightly. He reached his free hand out into the fog as they walked, hoping the fountain could reach out and grab him before he disappeared forever.
The Fool was laid down on a bed of furs by a giant hearth. The Hermit was making him some tea and saying soothing things while the Priestess wiped the sweat from his brow and sang lullabies. The Fool sipped some of the hot tea and fell into a deep sleep.
When he awoke, he was at the shore of a river.