TarotScope of the Day
KING OF WANDS
Herbal Ally : DRAGON’S BLOOD
Crystal Ally : AMBER
Choose to live. There's a fire within you; keep it alight. Feed that flame. Let it grow. Let it be a beacon to set your heart by, so that you remain true to yourself. ~ S. Jae-Jones, Wintersong
How will you let your fire show today ?
Today is a day to reconnect with your inner fire—not the one that burns out from overexertion, but the one that glows from centredness and authenticity. Whether it’s a moment of inspiration, a bold conversation, or simply choosing to act from your truth, you are the source of your own warmth. Let your energy radiate from the inside out. You don’t need to seek power—you are power, embodied.
The Ember in the Mountain
In a land where the mountains breathed smoke and the rivers whispered secrets, there lived an old man named Kael. He was known by many names—hermit, madman, sage—but those who had felt the warmth of his presence called him simply, The Creator.
Kael had no kingdom, yet he sat like a king. His throne was a flat stone on the edge of a cliff, his robe stitched from sunrises and ash. Each morning, he would close his eyes and press his hands together, and between his palms would appear a glowing orb of fire—not just flame, but something deeper. This fire pulsed with life, the kind that births stars and stirs hearts.
One day, a young traveler named Elen climbed the mountain seeking answers. Her village had been lost to coldness—not the winter kind, but the cold that creeps in when passion dies, when songs are no longer sung, and laughter is silenced by routine. She carried with her a small bundle of charcoal and a memory of warmth she had once known.
« Old man, » she said, exhausted, « can you give me fire? »
Kael opened one eye, his smile lined with knowing. « Why ask me for what already lives in you? »
She shook her head. « I’ve forgotten how to feel it. My hands are cold. »
Kael motioned her to sit. He placed his palms together again, and the fire returned—but this time, he placed it before her. The flame didn’t burn her. Instead, it illuminated something inside her chest, something buried.
« Creation, » he said, « does not begin with doing. It begins with being. Sit with this fire. Don’t command it—be it. »
As she watched the flame, it mirrored memories: dancing barefoot under the moon, painting wild shapes on walls, singing until her voice cracked. The cold within her began to thaw. She felt something stir—not just desire, but purpose. Creative energy.
When she stood, the fire did not fade. It had entered her.
« Thank you, » she whispered.
Kael only nodded. « Now go and warm your world. But remember—true creators don’t just light fires. They are fire. »
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