The sun sets behind a woodcut sea, its fires fading into the inky blackness. No stars are coming out. And an androgynous figure – our Chevalier – turns away from the cliff’s edge, dropping a peacock feather. But look at the feather’s shadow; it’s a sword. Was this a smart choice? Was this a just one?
There’s nothing in the figure. No definition, just vibrating diagonal lines. The Queen of (VOID) could hide her emptiness behind a public mask, as the Queens are all wont to do, but the Chevalier is more honest – or simply not capable of hiding their own shame.
A pentacle shimmers in the dying rays of the sun. Not even a fool would walk away from *this*. But where there is no fire, there is no ambition. And no ambition means no accomplishment. Go back home and watch some television; it might distract you from the emptiness inside.
This card is lies and giving up hope.