On the Cards
Chapter 1: The Jug of Beer
Cloudincia Portagate
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Author's notes: I asked Stephanie about these cards, so you can't say I'm cheating! And Jant is rather depressed…

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Castle mythos, it is property of Stephanie Swainston, who is fantastic to have thought of it, and incredibly patient in her emails.

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The Jug of Beer. I hate the jug of beer, because I always interpret it the same way: something good gone too soon. Like the sense of hope I had that this time I wouldn't draw the jug of bloody beer. Maybe it's time to change. I remind myself that the cards depend on how you interpret them and your interpretation depends on your present. Is my present always the same? Is my life stuck in a rut?

No, my life is the bloody rut. Trundling along the same old pathways, flying hither and thither for the emperor; my life is the jug of beer: something good that leaves you wanting more. I reach for my compass, but the stash of cat, jook, as they call it now, is gone. Long gone. I promised Rayne and San I would quit and I promised myself after Cyan and the battle of Slake Cross. Besides, the Shift doesn't offer more to life; it merely offers a different kind of life. Like two jugs; one full of wheat beer, one full of brown ale. They're both good, they both leave you wanting more.

God, why did I even begin talking to Lightning? No, he's not Lightning any more, he's Saker. Ever since he gave Cyan his post. But he's always been Lightning, he was Lightning before there was a Thunder, and long before there was a Comet. Like the jug of beer; something good, going too quickly. Why did I begin talking to him, he always gets me in the mood to philosphise. I need a drink. I put the compass down and reach my hand beyond it to the handle of…

I glare at the offending vessel and bring my hand back faster than a baby insect's mandible. Perhaps I should fly some to clear my head instead.