[Fic] "Game Theory" -- Yu-Gi-Oh!; also, update on Ardis's funeral
One thing I find interesting about the world of Yu-Gi-Oh!, but which rarely seems to come up in fic, is that games are treated like professional sports. Card games, board games, dice games, tabletop RPGs... You name it, there is probably at least one professional tournament for it, and that tournament will probably be broadcast on television and reported on in the newspapers. The only game that comes even vaguely close to that in our world is poker, and even that is a stretch. (ETA: Okay, chess and Go too, in some ways and some places. But they are all very niche activities compared to sports.)
Somewhere along the line, Yugi's world took a radically different turn from ours. And I think I know why. *grin*
(I had this idea floating around my hard drive for several years, but I finally tidied it up and gave it an ending. So. "Game Theory," in 375 words.)
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Game Theory
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The nameless pharaoh sealed the Shadow Games, but memory is harder to kill than people often think.
Legends persisted of a time when Egypt was ruled by magicians who were so strong their power might have destroyed the world, and who bound that power by the rules of games. Games were battles writ small. Games were battles where kings risked their lives and souls and honor. By playing games, rulers sheltered their people with their own strength instead of relying on their subjects for protection.
Games, so the legend said, were dangerous. Games were powerful. And a true king would not turn from a challenge.
It was only a legend, diluted by the passage of years and miles until almost nobody remembered its origin. War and plague and trade dominated the world. Kingdoms and cultures rose and fell, and Egypt dwindled from its glory to become a minor province in other empires. But now and again, a man or woman in desperate straits challenged a king or a priest or a warlord to a game. They staked their lives in order to snatch victory from despair.
Usually, the challenged rulers laughed. Usually, the rulers refused. Usually, the challengers died.
But sometimes the rulers accepted the challenge. And then the challengers -- who had everything to lose and everything to gain, and who poured their souls into the games while the rulers laughed in scorn -- the challengers won. And if the rulers broke their promises, misfortune had a way of dogging their heels ever after.
It didn't happen often. But it happened just enough to keep the legend alive. It happened just enough that rulers who refused to play spent the rest of their lives followed by whispers of cowardice and dishonor.
A true king, whispered the legend, was not only a war leader, not only a law giver, not only a son of heaven. A true king was a master of games, and he played for the lives and souls of his people, to guard them from harm in this world and the next. A true king could not lose.
Someday, whispered the legend, the King of Games would come again and make the world anew.
Until that day, his heirs would play in his honor, and save his legacy from silence.
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End of Story
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Friday afternoon I fly to Minnesota, via Detroit. Ardis's funeral is Saturday morning, followed by a reception at her church and then a more private lunch and gathering at her house for relatives and close friends. Sunday morning I fly back to Ithaca, via Philadelphia.
Dad and Aunt Jan decided on five speakers (plus the minister), so neither Vicky nor I will be giving public remininscences or eulogies. That is just as well in my case; I think I would break down halfway through.
...
Ardis left bequests to both me and Vicky, which will eventually process through various bits of legal machinery into our possession. The money will, I am sure, be useful, and I am planning to give some to various charities that I have had to shortchange these past two years on account of my health insurance eating all my raises. What I would most like to have to remember her by, though, are the nice copies of a couple poems I wrote for her over the years, which she kept on the wall in her computer room.
I must remember to ask Dad about them.
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comments)
Somewhere along the line, Yugi's world took a radically different turn from ours. And I think I know why. *grin*
(I had this idea floating around my hard drive for several years, but I finally tidied it up and gave it an ending. So. "Game Theory," in 375 words.)
---------------------------------------------
Game Theory
---------------------------------------------
The nameless pharaoh sealed the Shadow Games, but memory is harder to kill than people often think.
Legends persisted of a time when Egypt was ruled by magicians who were so strong their power might have destroyed the world, and who bound that power by the rules of games. Games were battles writ small. Games were battles where kings risked their lives and souls and honor. By playing games, rulers sheltered their people with their own strength instead of relying on their subjects for protection.
Games, so the legend said, were dangerous. Games were powerful. And a true king would not turn from a challenge.
It was only a legend, diluted by the passage of years and miles until almost nobody remembered its origin. War and plague and trade dominated the world. Kingdoms and cultures rose and fell, and Egypt dwindled from its glory to become a minor province in other empires. But now and again, a man or woman in desperate straits challenged a king or a priest or a warlord to a game. They staked their lives in order to snatch victory from despair.
Usually, the challenged rulers laughed. Usually, the rulers refused. Usually, the challengers died.
But sometimes the rulers accepted the challenge. And then the challengers -- who had everything to lose and everything to gain, and who poured their souls into the games while the rulers laughed in scorn -- the challengers won. And if the rulers broke their promises, misfortune had a way of dogging their heels ever after.
It didn't happen often. But it happened just enough to keep the legend alive. It happened just enough that rulers who refused to play spent the rest of their lives followed by whispers of cowardice and dishonor.
A true king, whispered the legend, was not only a war leader, not only a law giver, not only a son of heaven. A true king was a master of games, and he played for the lives and souls of his people, to guard them from harm in this world and the next. A true king could not lose.
Someday, whispered the legend, the King of Games would come again and make the world anew.
Until that day, his heirs would play in his honor, and save his legacy from silence.
---------------------------------------------
End of Story
---------------------------------------------
Friday afternoon I fly to Minnesota, via Detroit. Ardis's funeral is Saturday morning, followed by a reception at her church and then a more private lunch and gathering at her house for relatives and close friends. Sunday morning I fly back to Ithaca, via Philadelphia.
Dad and Aunt Jan decided on five speakers (plus the minister), so neither Vicky nor I will be giving public remininscences or eulogies. That is just as well in my case; I think I would break down halfway through.
...
Ardis left bequests to both me and Vicky, which will eventually process through various bits of legal machinery into our possession. The money will, I am sure, be useful, and I am planning to give some to various charities that I have had to shortchange these past two years on account of my health insurance eating all my raises. What I would most like to have to remember her by, though, are the nice copies of a couple poems I wrote for her over the years, which she kept on the wall in her computer room.
I must remember to ask Dad about them.
You can also read this entry on Dreamwidth, where there are currently (
comments)