Tarot Card Stories

Art of Cards by : https://elithien.tumblr.com/

The Emperor

Standing at the foot of the mountain rise, she watched the sun crest over the tips. It would be night soon.

In the shadow of the Mountains, it became night in haste.

Slowly climbing the mountain face, she knew that the fight ahead of them would be th hardest in life.

In life or in death.

“Emperor Protect Us.”

A common phrase that the lower caste’s liked to ring out when they required the help of their God.


A name given to him by his lowers, his lessers, all under Heaven knew him as their father, their ruler, the Emperor of Man.

Protector of the Empire he had built and ruled.

The hordes of barbarians hammered at the gates.

All under Heaven aligned to a structure, an order of life and death. Those who ruled did so because they were made to rule, they were the betters of the lowers. Only those in a position of rule could understand the complexity of the way of the world.

All under Heaven would fall today.

The crest of the mountain flattened out to a fortress-monastary, the home of the Emperor.

Slow steps brought her feet across marble and stone. No sound except the low throb.





It resonated through the hall.

It was breathing.

The walls closed in around them, she brought themselves to the great hall, the throne room.

Curled upon the throne, the Emperor slept.

Eyes closed.

It was time for her to strike. Gripping the blades tightly in her hand and climbed the vast wooden pillars holding the high vaulted ceiling up. She stared down at the Emperor, the beast.

The Dragon.

With a long breath, she was going to do it.

She was going to kill him!

She was going to kill the Emperor!

The Tyrant!


The Hierophant

When is it wrong to fight for what you believe in?

When is the only right thing to do to stand up against tradition.

Standing in the middle of the courtyard, I knew that it was the only way. To stand up for what you believe in is to be part of a cause, to be the one to step up and make a difference; that makes you a leader.

Traditions are important to any culture but when the lives of the people change, the culture and traditions must change.

It is no longer one race, it is no longer centred upon the strongest. Those with a mind can be greater than those with a body.

It was a holy day today and we decided to bring forward our movement. In the pubs, taverns and halls we had met and moved out into the streets. We took our banners to the people and our chants filled the streets.

“Unity through collectivity!”

“Collectivity through peace!”

Some would say we are rebels, that we are disruptive and spreading subversion.

I only want to be on an equal level to our apparent betters.

“Reluka, are you ready?” A voice spoke to my left, I turned and found my friend and companion, my life-mate.

“I am ready Shaka. Although I am scared.” I replied, nervously playing with my shirt hem.

“What is there to be scared of?” She replied, grinning and putting her arms around my shoulders.

“Oh I don’t know, I’m about to stand in front of thousands of people and proclaim that the status quo is no longer right? That we should be treated as equal and not as a lower class.” I sighed, running a shaky hand through my hair. Reluka leaned in close and kissed my cheek.

They would not understand, the status quo was the status quo for a reason.

Tradition does not change overnight.

“You will do fine.” Shaka smiled, pecking my cheek again. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Yea… what is the worst that could happen.