The Ending Luna Wouldn’t Allow

“You can’t kill him just because you’ve run out of story.”

Chelle looked up.

Across the workroom table, Luna sat with one boot hooked around the leg of her chair and the expression of someone prepared to defend this position until morning.

Between them lay the Tarot del A — del Toro Inspired Tarot Deck with Guidebook: English-language cards with aged-parchment colors, bold woodcut-style lines, and dark fairy-tale imagery. Three were face up beneath the lamp. The armored figure of the Sun. The birdlike Valet of Wands. The skull-shaped vessel of the Ace of Goblets.

They were not doing a reading tonight.

Luna had proposed something she called easier.

“Three cards,” she had said. “Make a story.”

That had been some time ago.

Chelle rested her chin on her hand.

“I hadn’t killed him.”

“You said his task was complete and he could finally rest.”

“He could have gone to bed.”

Luna pointed at her.

“Then give him a bed.”

Under the table, Ash opened one eye.

Chelle reached for her tea.

The trouble had begun with the goblet.

In their invented country, a king had stolen the morning and locked it inside a cup. He wore the sun on his armor so that nobody would forget who owned it.

The bird-faced courier had been sent to retrieve the cup.

“By whom?” Luna had asked.

“The people waiting for daylight.”

“Why him?”

Chelle had looked at the narrow figure on the card.

“Because he could get through the palace windows.”

Luna had considered this.

“Fine. But the windows are barred.”

“You’ve made it harder already.”

“He’s got a long beak. Let him be useful.”

So the courier had picked the first window latch with his beak, squeezed between the bars, and landed in the king’s supper.

Not beside it.

In it.

Ash had lifted her head at that point, interested in the first sensible development of the evening.

The king had risen. The guards had run forward. The courier had seized the skull-shaped cup and escaped through the kitchens with gravy dripping from his coat.

Chelle had been prepared to let him reach the waiting people.

Luna had not.

“The cup’s empty.”

Chelle lowered her mug.

“It contains the morning.”

“Then why would the king leave it on the supper table?”

“Because he’s arrogant.”

“Arrogant people still have cupboards.”

They had settled on this: the cup was empty because the king had already drunk the light.

From above the table came a faint scrape.

Midnight’s great sapphire head had appeared through the open skylight.

He looked at the Sun card.

Then at Luna.

“Apparently,” she told him, “we’re dealing with an idiot.”

His head tilted.

Chelle put down her tea before she spilled it.

Now they had a courier outside the palace, carrying an empty cup, with the people waiting beyond the gates and the morning inside a king who had no intention of giving it back.

Chelle had suggested that the courier return, break the cup at the king’s feet, and release the stolen light.

There had been a flash. A great noise. The king’s armor split open.

The morning returned.

The courier’s task was complete.

He could finally rest.

Which was how they had arrived at Luna demanding a bed.

“He’s tired,” Chelle said.

“He’s also still in the room when the armor explodes.”

“He gets out.”

“How?”

Chelle looked at the cards again.

Outside, rain tapped against the windows. The Attic had been closed for hours. Cinder lay beside the workroom door, his head on his paws, apparently asleep.

One ear remained turned toward the table.

“All right,” Chelle said. “Tell me.”

Luna leaned forward.

“He doesn’t break the cup.”

“Then we’re back where we started.”

“He goes back through the kitchens.”

“The guards are looking for him.”

“Good.”

Chelle’s eyebrows rose.

“He makes sure they see him.”

The courier climbed onto the kitchen table, held up the stolen cup, and announced that the king had been drinking from a false one.

The real cup, he claimed, had been hidden in the palace drains.

“Nobody believes that,” Chelle said.

“The king does.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s frightened someone else has more daylight than he has.”

Chelle went quiet.

Luna touched the edge of the Sun card.

“He can’t bear not to check.”

So the king came down.

He came in his blazing armor, angry enough to send the cooks scattering, and demanded that the courier show him the drain.

The courier bowed.

Pointed.

The king bent over the opening.

Luna paused.

Chelle smiled slowly.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes.”

The courier hit him with a soup pot.

Chelle laughed so suddenly that Ash stood up.

Midnight’s nostrils widened.

“That doesn’t release the morning,” Chelle managed.

“No,” Luna said. “But it gets his attention.”

The king fell backward into a flour sack. The stolen light poured out through his open mouth as he coughed, filling the kitchens, the corridors, the narrow barred windows.

The cooks opened every shutter.

The guards dropped their weapons to cover their eyes.

And outside, the waiting people saw morning arrive from the wrong side of the palace.

Cinder lifted his head.

Luna sat back, satisfied.

Chelle studied the three cards.

“What happens to the courier?”

“A cook gives him breakfast.”

“He’s covered in gravy.”

“They have towels.”

“And afterward?”

Luna’s expression softened by such a small amount that someone who did not know her might have missed it.

“There’s a room above the kitchens. A narrow bed. A window he can open.”

Chelle nodded.

“He sleeps until afternoon.”

“At least.”

For a moment, they let him.

Rain moved across the glass. Ash settled again. Midnight remained at the skylight, his great head resting at the room’s edge.

Chelle gathered the cards.

“My turn to make it difficult.”

Luna pushed her empty mug aside.

“You’ll try.”

Chelle shuffled.

Under the table, Cinder lowered his head again.

His ear stayed turned toward them.

They gave him the morning. Then they remembered to give him somewhere to sleep.

About This Piece

Tarot del A — del Toro Inspired Tarot Deck with Guidebook is listed as a complete English-language tarot deck with dark fairy-tale imagery. Its illustrations use aged-parchment tones, strong woodcut-style lines, and strange, theatrical figures. The guidebook is a PDF accessed through the QR code on the back of the box.

The three-card storytelling game in this chapter is Chelle and Luna’s invention for the evening, not a fixed reading method or an interpretation supplied by the guidebook. Their courier and king belong to the tale they make at the table.

Frequently Asked Questions

What comes with the deck?

The listing describes a complete English-language tarot deck and access to a PDF guidebook. The guidebook is accessed through the QR code on the back of the box, rather than supplied here as a printed booklet.

Is it suitable for someone new to tarot?

The listing describes it as beginner-accessible. The guidebook offers a starting point, while the illustrated cards can also be explored as visual art or creative prompts.

Can I use the cards for storytelling rather than a reading?

Yes. One creative approach is to choose a few cards and invent a character, problem, and outcome from the images. The story above uses that approach without presenting the result as a prediction.

Are the events in this chapter meanings of the actual cards?

No. The stolen morning, palace kitchens, and bird-faced courier are an invented story inspired by the visible artwork. Consult the included digital guidebook for the deck’s own interpretations.

More from the Attic

The Question Behind the Monster follows an earlier Tarot del A chapter with a visitor at the counter. What the Storm Produces tells how this deck entered the Attic’s lore. For the crystal weather and Zoltar Stations behind that origin, read The Aether-Reach.

What will you find? Tarot del A — del Toro Inspired Tarot Deck with Guidebook