Whilst exploring in Farshantir's archives (as many hatchlings are encouraged to do), Alyagaster found a pack of old cards. At first she thought they might be a story, depicting a scene as she had seen in old tapestries. So, she tried to read them. They were difficult, and refused to offer her any clear meaning. She stared at them for hours, curled into a corner while her nestmates tumbled over one another and read aloud from tablets and tomes. She hardly noticed the sun setting, red light filtering through the kelp walls of the cavern. Farshantir broke her gently from her trance and told her it was time to leave. Young as she was, and faced with the very real possibility of her first defeat, she burst into tears. Unequipped to deal with a wailing hatchling (and being very sympathetic to the plight of being dragged away from a book), Farshantir asked if she would like to take the cards with her, to look at overnight. Alya stopped crying immediately and beamed at the pearlcatcher, before hurrying off to her bed. Sleep, however, eluded her, so she untucked the cards from beneath her pillow and stared at them again. She tried to examine the cards one at a time, examining each one as close as she dared. The pictures were beautiful, no doubt, but frustrating; they remained unclear. She tried to look at them as a whole, spreading all fifty-six cards out across the floor in front of her, but this only seemed to make things worse, somehow, as her eye was drawn this way and that and could not focus. Eventually one of her nestmates, drawn by the light of her candle, wandered over to see what was up. Acrell settled down on her other side and hummed, flicking his tail across the cards. "Maybe it's a game? Maybe the pictures are supposed to mean something, and you're supposed to follow the rules for them." They spent a happy hour making up games around the cards, first assigning them meanings and numbers, attempting to play snap with the closest picture matches, and then finally they began a game of stories themselves. "Tell me... what I'm going to do in the future," Acrell said, after a long pause. Alyagaster, grinning, turned over the first six cards, and studied them for a moment. "You," she said eventually, picking up 'La Bateleur' and waving at him, "are going to be a mage. You will be talented with... fire, but you will be alone in studying it." She frowned at L'Hermite. "You already know that, though. Someone's helping you, but thinks you should push out on your own more, that you should try using your own judgement. And then you can't lose!" She finished brightly. Beside her, Acrell had gone very still. She flushed, embarrassed. "I... did I do it wrong?" In the half-light of the candle, Acrell's white eyes glittered coldly. "No. No, I don't think you did."