Overthrow - Blog Posts

The Fool

Laughter.

Horrible, wild laughter filled the empty halls of gold, marble and spilt blood.

Said blood was splattered across the floors like fine red wine as the former King fell to his bruised knees, staring up in horror as burning cards fluttered down from the sky. They revealed their hand:

The Emperor. Justice.

Death.

And the laughter, oh, the laughter! The Jester sat atop his new throne, an amused smile playing at his lips, cradling a golden crown in his lap and a glass of champagne in his hand. He said nothing; the King had never wasted their breath on him, even when he slaved away for their entertainment. 

With a flick of his wrist, a final card flew to the ground.

It landed before the King, face-up—The Fool.

The card of new beginnings, new opportunities. Taking a leap of faith, improvising, believing in the future. The Jester was doing just that.

The blurred face of The Fool mocked the King, and then both burst into flames while the Jester watched. The lopsided smile on his thin lips grew wider and more sinister, his eyes sparkling with unsettling delight.

"Well..." the Jester giggled, his tone bright and mocking whilst the now former King screamed in agony. 

The jester twirled the crown in his free hand, "Long live the King."