The Seventh in a series of discussions about games with Gods
It was a calm weekend inside the mountains between Colorado and Wyoming. The famous aspens changing to meet winter in their new and dying golden treasures maybe guarded by ancient dragons, but their contrast against the evergreens set the hills on fire simmering in the wind holding on to their thin stems, falling like rain as silent as snow. A place of solitude. A break. A small trailer settled into granite with an uneven floor. A short walk down to a temperate fairyland with a small cold creek giggling along the small rocks and granite shards nourishing freezing plants and algae. A nice man-made fire ring ready to warm its small communal area of possibly dozing campers tired from the trek down the hill and gathering of beetle-kill pine. A quiet warm wind the night before a full moon. I didn’t even need a headlamp. I could still see my shadow bouncing off moon light letting me know I couldn’t hide, even in the woods. I wasn’t hiding though.
In the strange silence of the air and the uneven breathing of the aspen leaves I still heard something ringing in my ears. Even in the silence, there was none, like the anticipation of a bad horror flick when the expected still makes you jump. I sat and waited. And he showed up. And I jumped.
“How in the hell did you get here?”
“I have two legs too. They just move faster than yours.”
“So, how long have you been here?”
“The whole time actually. I saw you used the poop bucket.”
“Man, that’s gross and private. You know, in our world, you’d just get arrested or beat up for pulling that shit.”
“Pun intended?”
“God, no. Just…never mind. Won’t you get into trouble leaving your little rocky perch?”
“Like I said, my legs move faster than yours. And the eagle isn’t due for another 12 hours.”
We both sat around the fire ring. Prometheus kept it ablaze. He didn’t even use the wood I gathered. It just remained there, hot, bright, infinite. How the hell did he do that? He didn’t eat, but I did. I was hungry. I think when I’m bored I get hungry and eat. I could eat the entire bag of chips in one sitting. Or maybe the bunch of trail mix I brought. Either way, but stomach seemed empty the whole time. So, I laid down on the cold worn grass as it help make a small pillow for my neck and back. I let Prometheus talk.
“You know what I was thinking on the way up here?”
“Nope.”
“That you never do this.”
“Do what?”
“Drive to the middle of nowhere, cut down trees, make fires, sleep under stars.”
“You’re right. I have never done this on my own. Maybe only three times if invited.”
“Right. So, I was thinking, there must be something on your mind.”
“As often as there is something on yours?”
“Touché, sir.”
“Care to enlighten me?”
“Well, I have my own idea, but I thought I would just ask you first.”
“Why am I out here? I wanted to see if the dragons really guarded the gold in the mountains. I wanted to see it for myself. I wanted to see why dragons stay in hiding. Why they love to live alone. And why when they come out, they devastate without prejudice.”
“What do you think you’ve found?”
“I think they are protecting themselves. From us. Their treasure, our nature, it’s the box of things they keep all for themselves, the only things they have, the One-Ring if you will. They protect their inner selves with a mask of gold and riches. And we’ll destroy ourselves when we feel run over, when someone or something else comes to steal from us. Wouldn’t you?”
“Of course. I have done these things for a long time.”
“But not anymore?”
“No. Not for an even longer time.”
“Why not.”
“It was the fire. As obvious as that might sound. Everyone knew I stole it. And the dragon rained down trying to put me out. But the fire continued. He was too late to take it back. You can see why a dragon would be angry. When you steal a treasure that lights the minds of consciousness and self-reliance, there is no need for the dragon. The humans could survive when before, they didn’t know their potential. The grand power of fire is it’s inexhaustible potential energy. As long as there is fuel.”
We both forgot about the fire ring. I shivered with little spiders scurrying up my spine. Prometheus blinked at the hot coals and our little fairyland burst into light once again.
“But here’s the rub. I never feel like I’m conquering much. A lot of people don’t. We’re settled in habits and comforts.”
“And I think the dragons are having a harder time moving you.”
“What now? We make things up? We try to relive something we may not be able to ever again? I mean, not like you.”
“It happens in stories all the time. The amount of dragon myths floating around sequel after sequel of games, the ideas of magic — another unseen force we’d love to make real. You struggle to create a fix all the time. Let’s say you keep up with the trend of zombies, the undead. What’s so intriguing, do you think?”
“Well, I know what intrigues me. I am fascinated by the hardship of survival. I don’t know why. Sometimes I think of those habits and comforts. We just don’t have to fight hard and I think, maybe, we all want to, until it kills us.”
“Until the zombies win.”
“In a way, I guess.”
“Games are an interesting new way of reliving what may have been lived before. Started by a generation that didn’t worry about the inevitability of war, but instead, always getting to discover what in the world they could give right back, improving anything about life they could imagine. Almost without limits.”
“It sounds so materialistic then. Like it’s a flimsy bandaid.”
“Do you think so?”
“Let’s say, I don’t want that to be true. I want real purpose.”
“Who says the stories you’ve read were any better? The Bible improved literacy, maybe by force, but on a grand scale, people wanted to hear about something out of this world. And millennia ago, out-of-this-world wasn’t a concept people struggled with. But they wanted to read the stories anyway. Games get to bring to life the stories you may want to live with. It’s a new way of doing something humans have always done. The grand myth you say you don’t have anymore is coming together in pieces. I believe.”
“So, why do you think I came out here?”
“Oh, well, people love solitude even when it’s scary and quiet. But there are too many reasons you may want to be out here in the cold. But that’s for another time.”
The white slender trunks of the aspen grew from the moon light like spindly fingers reaching out of the ground to gather whatever fall air they could, sucking in the mist. Prometheus walked around them letting the fire die down and the coals smolder with their own radiant heat. I don’t remember when he left. But I woke up to a blood orange sunrise glistening once again through the aspen leaves saying their good byes to the humble blue moon. I wasn’t cold at all and the fire ring was still burning hot as I laid down looking straight up wondering, what dragons that live right inside our hearts, forcing their wills through our limbs, and calling us to action?