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"The King and Queen of Wands!" booms the chubby page and holds the door open. His huge purple hat with a silver feather slips over his eye, and he quickly shoves it back.

Sara holds her head high and glides inside the throne room. Her fingers tighten, but she releases them right away. It doesn't fit the King to clutch her dress like that. Sara smiles at her subjects gathered on both sides of the aisle and steps onto the velvet carpet.

The conductor salutes, and the silver flutes follow his lead into a gentle tune. The purple flags flatter, the guests cheer, and Sara just can't take her eyes off the tall, dark figure waiting for her down the aisle. Her Page of Swords. Garold.

And for this moment Sara doesn't want to be the King and Queen of Wands, just Sara. Even if it's a bad omen for a Wands person to reveal their name. It's a tale, after all, an old superstition that says you can control the Wands person whose real name you know. That's why it's especially dangerous for a card to reveal their name.

Sara smiles and glides down the aisle.

"Are you sure, my King?" whispers the Knight of Wands as she leans to Sara's shoulder. She carries Sara's draped lace veil.

Sara nods. "I know you don't like him."

The Knight wrinkles her nose at that. "I will learn to like him." She straightens back up and misses one step to be behind the King once more. "For you." She adds it so quietly that the King isn't sure she heard the Knight right.

"Amelie, why are you suspicious of him?" Sara asks softly and slows her steps. Only a little, her eyes are still locked on her dark and imposing groom.

"No other Swords came," whispers the Knight.

"Swords are no Wands. They never had the same feeling of kingship as us." Sara still glances over the guests and only sees silver and purple. Of all shades, styles and forms. Chocolate skins with a silver-purple hue. "Garold simply doesn't have many friends there."

The organ steps in, and Sara raises her skirts higher and takes the first step. Three stairs. Some guests open their wings and float higher to see. Sara hears the cheer and flutters.

Garold smiles and reaches out to take her hand. Sara smiles too and drowns in his black eyes.

"Don't swoon, my King."

The Knight's sharp remark brings Sara back. She smooths her face to the regal mask and gracefully takes her groom's hand. She might interlace their pinkies together, but nobody will ever know. Maybe only the Knight. She sighs roughly, but Sara won't glance at her.

And the Knight lets go of her veil and stays back. It's only her and the groom now. The King and Queen of Wands and the Page of Swords. Sara and Garold. Her spiked double crown of the darkest purple metal weighs heavily on her head. He only bears the black beret and a sword on his belt.

They stand in front of the silver chalice, the purple liquid shimmers and swirls within. Sara opens her wings, and they appear behind her back with a faint glow. She reaches out–

"Ha."

Sara freezes. Her fingertips graze the surface. Garold slips out his hand. That topples the chalice. Clatter. Liquid stains her dress. Sara turns her head.

Pain.

Commotion.

Shouts.

Garold tucks away his sword soiled in purple blood.

"My King!" bellows the Knight of Wands. "Step back, you filthy traitor!"

Clash. Gasp. Then a thud and a pained moan.

And Garold, her Garold, laughs and yanks Sara closer. His fingers bruise her arm. His other hand rips off her second wing. The sword didn't cut through it all the way.

Gasp.

Breathe.

Sara forces her eyes open.

Spin.

Dark. Her senses blur. Glow. Silver. Garold thrusts his hand inside her chest and wrenches out one card. Takes the crown from her head. Strands of hair get tangled on the spikes. He pulls.

And shoves her away. Sara crumbles to her knees.

"A-ame...lie?" Sara doesn't see well.

Purple stains. A rumbling laugh.

"My King..." The Knight curls on the stairs and clutches her chest. She didn't wear the usual breastplate, only the ceremonial chain-mail. Dark purple soaks the same dark purple metal links. "My King..." She reaches out. Rasps. "My... Sara..." And shatters into dust.

Shouts. Yells. Clatter.

Sara coughs on her sobs and falls to her side. Blood. She suffocates. Sticky blood under her cheek. Her own cold wing touches her bare arm. Her hair soaks in blood.

Garold conjures the Wands sceptre out of the King's card and laughs.

"Halt where you– argh!"

More screams.

"Three..." croaks Sara.

The woman fades to dust. Her lifeless card glides somewhere under the altar.

The purple veins clutch air for a second more and snake back to their master as the sceptre's gem glows purple.

"I am the King now!" roars Garold. The Page of Swords, and now the King of Wands too. "And you will obey me!"

The veins lash out.

via darktarot.com