Disclaimer 1: Final Fantasy and Final Fantasy X belong to Squaresoft. The world of Spira and all associated characters belong to Squaresoft. This story is written and published without permission or consent of Squaresoft. This is a fictional story made for purely entertainment purposes. The author of this story does not claim to own the world of Final Fantasy, or any characters or likenesses. Any relation to events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Author's Note: The Al Bhed in this story are speaking Al Bhed, unless otherwise noted. While they have a language all of their own, all prose and dialogue will be in English (or Yevonite, if you prefer), with a few notable exceptions.
For Love Of The Game
(c) 2003, 2005 Mayumi.H
6 - A Touch Of Wisdom (Berrik)
Berrik set his drink down on the table, and a splash of mead oozed down the side of the glass and over his thumb. He brought his hand up and sucked the liquid between his lips. For Lucan mead, it didn't taste that bad. He was about to comment on it when he noticed the sullen faces all around the table.
The other Psyches were looking up at the remote sphere, watching Bickson, the captain of the Luca Goers, accept the Tournament Cup from the judges.
"What a travesty," Judda said, shaking her head.
Eigaar sat back in his chair and gestured toward the sphere. "That should be us up there."
Berrik stifled a smile behind his drink.
They were like this every time they got to the final rounds and then lost a decisive game. They didn't always lose the big game - last year, they'd taken the titles for the fourth, fifth, and seventh leagues - but when they did lose, they were like a bunch of children.
As for himself, Berrik just liked to play. Winning was nice, of course, and it was always a good morale booster, but he enjoyed the thrill of the game itself over any of the competitions. Still, it was disheartening even to him to come so far and then lose.
The finals game was actually very close. Eigaar and Blappa had each gotten a good shot on goal, and Judda and Lakkam had played a good defensive game. As always, Nimrook was a stellar goalie, but the Goers still managed to sneak two goals past him. The two teams had been tied for most of the second half, and the Psyches thought they had the game when Blappa managed a breakaway into the Goers' territory. He took his shot, and Berrik was sure it would have been good, if only the buzzer hadn't gone off a second before the ball reached the goal.
Since the tournament couldn't be called in a tie, the game went into overtime. For most of those two minutes, the Goers controlled the ball, and Bickson squeaked off a goal past Nimrook right before time was called. So, once again, the first tournament championship of the season went to Luca.
Lakkam sat up across from him. "We played a good game, though." She looked around at everyone at the table and smiled, though it faltered.
Blappa stopped chewing on his toothpick long enough to mutter, "Not good enough."
Berrik gave him a stern look. "No, she's right. It was a close game...and second place isn't so bad." He punched Nimrook in the bicep. "We beat everyone else in this room."
The Psyches looked around the bar, where the four other blitz teams - Besaid's Aurochs, the Kilika Beasts, the Guado Glories, and the Ronso Fangs - were watching the remote sphere. All of them had the same disappointed looks that they themselves wore.
Nimrook gave a little smile. "I guess you're right."
Berrik nodded, then looked up to the sphere as the crowd started cheering. The judges were making some sort of speech, probably about sportsmanship or something, so there wasn't much else to see.
Around the bar, the teams started to disperse. The Aurochs and the Beasts, chatting in Yevonite, filtered out into the Luca twilight. Noy went up to the bar and ordered another round for the Glories. Most of the Fangs clustered near the exit, waiting for their captain, who approached the Psyches' table.
Gazna slammed a large, brimming pitcher down in the middle of the table. The liquid splattered the table, and each of the Psyches got some of it on them. "For good game," he rumbled. "Drink for Fangs."
Berrik pushed the container back at the Ronso. "That's all right."
Gazna stopped Berrik's arm and leaned in to him. "Luca mead too weak for Ronsos," he said, then smiled, an almost frightening sight.
Berrik chuckled, and accepted the pitcher with a nod.
Gazna fixed Nimrook with a mock-serious stare. "Rest well - Fangs take first league this year."
Nimrook smiled. "We'll see about that."
The Ronso captain clapped a hand on Nimrook's back and bellowed with laughter, causing the Glories to look at him. But Gazna dismissed them - Berrik suspected that he liked teasing the Psyches a lot more than he enjoyed dealing with the Glories.
"Enjoy," Gazna said, indicating the pitcher. "Game is good. But life is better." Then he started away, leaving the Psyches speechless in his wake.
Berrik sat back, touched by the Ronso's seemingly effortless profundity. The Ronsos were one of the oldest races on Spira, and he suddenly began to understand why. While the younger races, like the Yevonites and the Al Bhed, were always clamoring for first place, the Ronsos accepted life for what it was: not unlike a game, but to be lived, not merely played.
Berrik turned around in his seat and waved to the departing Ronsos. "Thank you," he called, for both the gift and the tidbit of wisdom.
Gazna shooed him with his burly arm. "Go home - make little Psyches!" He laughed again, and then pointed at them collectively. "Just be ready!"
Berrik waved again, then turned back to the table.
Blappa was already pouring the free round into everyone's glasses, regardless of how empty or full they had been, while Judda and Nimrook argued playfully over whether or not Lakkam should be drinking at all. Eigaar settled the subject by putting a glass down in front of the youngest Psyche, and he lifted his own spilling drink for a toast.
Berrik picked up his glass, mimicking Eigaar's gesture. He waited for his friend to speak.
"To Gazna," Eigaar said, then growled some Ronso words. He cleared his throat and added, "For being such a good sport."
"I'll drink to that," Berrik murmured, and tipped his glass back, as did everyone else at the table.
Lakkam took a long swig, then made a face and reached quickly for her water, while Judda rubbed her back and Blappa and Eigaar laughed spiritedly. As for Nimrook, he sat still and quiet, shaking his glass back and forth, watching the liquid ride up the sides. Then he downed the glass in one toss, and stood up from the table. Berrik watched as a slow smile spread across his captain's face.
"Let's go," Nimrook told them. "We've got a lot of games to win." In response, the Psyches shouted raucously, all sorrow forgotten.
Berrik had a feeling it would be a good year.
End