The prince

[Sepia]

In darkness, the dreams heard from the royal bedchamber hasten in momentum. The young prince dream every night and some say every day and the castle, the nation and the empire feels his shudder. A deformed man thought to remind of ganesha sits under a fig tree, weeping for the world. The prince dreams of a storyteller, it is the most amazing thing he tells the priest, he knows this man but not his name as communication happens in images or something closer to hieroglyphs and when the prince asked for a name, the storyteller showed him the image of a man making love to a horse, dripping in fat. They are more like visions than dreams he tells the man of the cloth, worrying for the sanity at stake for the future regent like a doctor spending time thinking about his masters voice.

The prince tells of a city of silver and the desert near it, with beauty in marvel it is human but not human as we know it, something different, the prince tells us that he knows that time doesn't matter and he explains to us that he has seen what is beyond the veil, where time disappears and with it, it's makers for we can not hope to perceive eternity, our brains can not remember this without sanity slipping. In the desert he sees something more familiar as the storyteller shows him what he has himself seen and felt, a city which isn't there but still is, built in a style the prince can fathom, seeing a future empire being ground into the dust, seeing and understanding every reason for its downfall and he is being shown these visions over and over, overlapping and as he walks the streets of fair verona, he can see the city change

The entire thing loops out of mind, into reality, changing the tiles or rearranging the windows, the shrieks of crows hold a different note than they usually do, things are moving in different directions all at once, your fingers turn a weird pale translucent, the feeling of it all is off, taken in a different approach when possible and turned into something more than the other scents they've told you you smell like and the fires are lit in the streets, overflowing with bacteria and death, where children run around in the good old times inventing their playthings instead of just ordering them and human thoughts appear to be strands in time, blades of grass and each and everyone is important to someone but not us, not now, this should be more sacred, should be more holy, this feeling or sensation is a church and inside lord there are men selling white doves and offering jews for execution for a sheep

The prince stopped walking the streets of verona, kept to his chamber, called for those he wished to speak to and kept to himself and around him his empire changed as he slumbered and tried to understand his demons. In his mind he lived the days of his fellow rulers while he pondered his own empires extinction, the death crumbling onto him in his dreams. The same night as he sat down and wrote his autobiography the storyteller showed him a card, on it were the three empires, almost seeming to flick over eachother but in his minds eye he saw them as they were, instead of images they were feelings, emotions, sensations of words and he found peace then knowing the burden was not his anymore and he fell asleep.

[the last yatto]

thanks for this

i think ill use
knight, queen, prince and princess
format for Peedy's Tarot deck
thanks to the OP