Unbound

Light flickers at the windowpane; the orb breathes sandalwood. Two stark Pillars frame the nave, its blackthorn ribbed with green. Its arches dwindle out of sight; the River murmurs low. Through leaves, the Wind runs low. One stair winds up through her colours, one climbs toward the strings. Beyond the landing, Stars lie strewn where distant belltowers ring. The Moon slips past the windowpanes; two dogs stir on the stair. He traded Hero’s medals for a tome of Mystery Arts. The Page spoke Mercy, soft & low; its spine split through the Hart. A lone Wand bore hawthorn bloom. Delight held crystals in Sun’s glare & watched them catch the Light. She gave him silver against Foe, to summon Desert Night. The silence hissed around them beneath the arch of Nuit. Before he weighed her Kindness, his thumb had tipped the Scales. The Empress bent above the Book to mend what Time had gnawed. He called her mending “control” & named her kindness “fraud.” She wished him well, for his own sake, no debt against his Name, no seal to bind his Will to hers, yet Safety he could claim. Seals & rings & amulets lay strewn by copper-fed flame. Attraction & repulsion read, he darkened Care’s good name. The Pages spoke of Constancy, of Mercy without Guile. He called each open Door a snare, each offered kindness a Chain. He wrenched away each reaching hand & read its twisted lines till every palm confessed the crimes he had designed. He snarled, “That’s stolen property!” & hissed, “Sever ties!” Nine Swords bit the floor; the Tenth now barred her Door. No Kate Barlass—she would keep her Flesh & Bone her own. Five Cups lay spilled across the points of his o’erturn’d Star. The Threads between them snapped & snarled; a needle pierced her hand. unbound among the Pages, her hand withdrawn from his Fall— how much can Kindness bear when he demands it all? Magician honours Sword & Coin & Guards who gather near. The Empress speaks without a Shield; no Wisdom will he hear. She seeks the Question underneath & tends The Great Work’s flame. The Empress stands beneath the Sky where trees bear fruit & waters spring. The Emperor set his Crown aside & greeted Dawn anew. The Fool went on, his dog beside, & passed beyond her view. She needed neither Knight nor Seal; with Staff & Cup, she chose to pluck the ripe pomegranate where Living Water flows. Behind her rests her own Book, a needle & silver thread. Moonlight anoints the parted leaves & all the words unsaid. She leaves their Covenant unbound. The Pages hold their place: no chapter torn, no ending writ, no words to name disgrace. She had not ceased to care for him, nor wished to see him fall; but thirty years of reaching out had worn her Heart—that’s all. Let every claim upon her Name fall silent at the Door. Let neither threat nor promise draw her backward anymore. His Loom shall cast no shadow here, nor weave through those inside. Her Tower stands; within its walls, all those she loves abide. unbound among the Pages, her hand withdrawn from his Fall— her Peace is hers to keep; he has no claim at all. Two dogs announce with joyful cries the Emperor’s Return. The Strings awake above the stair & Colours wait their turn. Black wings sweep through the vaulted green & claim the open air. Four olive staves—The Threshold, rosemary guards The Aether. Their Covenant no longer binds; his claim ends at her Door. She turns to Colour, turns to Song— why does she care at all?