Chereads / Major Arcana: The Fool's Journey / Chapter 13 - Chapter 12

Chapter 13 - Chapter 12

Holden dreamt that he was falling into an infinitely dark abyss. Strange objects flew past him on all sides: antique clocks, dusty books, teapots, and tarot cards, slowly spinning in midair.

The fall ended as suddenly as it had begun: Holden found himself standing in a large hall. The floor tiles were black and white, like a chessboard, and an unfinished statue and a thoughtful sculptor stood in the middle of the hall.

Holden stepped closer. The sculptor noticed his guest, smiled at him, and handed him a carving tool with a small hammer as if inviting him to finish the sculpture.

For some reason, Holden knew what to do and started chiselling the marble, chipping away unnecessary pieces. The sculptor nodded approvingly and encouraged Holden, which gave him more and more confidence.

And finally, the sculpture was finished: it looked like the Venus de Milo, but with arms. Holden was very proud of his work and happily returned the tools to the sculptor, but he just shook his head.

"The work is not yet finished," said the sculptor.

Then Holden walked around the statue again and made a few adjustments.

"Still weak, it has no life," said the sculptor.

Holden made corrections again.

"No life!" the sculptor shouted.

Again and again, Holden made adjustments, but the sculptor only continued to shout: "No life! No life!" The more the sculptor yelled, the angrier and scarier he became. Holden felt like a hostage and thought that something terrible would happen if the sculptor remained dissatisfied.

Finally, nothing was left of the statue. The arms had fallen off, and the face was disfigured, and the body was riddled with indentations and hammer marks. Holden fell to his knees in front of the statue, completely desperate.

Something dripped onto Holden's face. He wiped it with his palm and looked at his hand - blood. Holden looked up at the statue and saw that it was bleeding from the wounds he had inflicted. The blood weakly flowed onto the floor in slow streams.

Holden looked back at the sculptor. He clapped.

"Isn't this the best proof of life? The ability to bleed."

Holden woke up and opened his eyes. He was in an unknown room with a knife in his hands, and in front of him was a dead man covered in blood.