Cold. That's how it felt. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, a restless mage stood in wait. It had been hours. Perhaps days.. So long since he had been used. A human? No.. A tool. A device of destruction or one of defense. Perhaps a meer sacrifice. A child controlled his every move. Occasionally an adult. So easily did he pass hands that did he wonder if he was happy. No matter. What did his happiness amount to in the realm of those in control? He did not sit. He only stood. Where was there to sit anyway besides the pitch black surrounding him with faint shimmers of navy and violet. No release. No relief. But that is not what ate to the mage's very soul. He was not alone; that scared him most. Somewheere in the vast expanse of midnight--he speculated that others as himself were trapped for surely an entire world had no been created to contain only him. He had walked miles and walked miles more only to find the same environment. Yet each time, no sign of other life was obtained. Every second wasted of his life--just another footstep leading nowhere. But there were times. Oh yes, times indeed. After what seemed an eternity, the magician was cast out into the light of the living. He hissed and drew an arm across his eyes. The light was so in contrast to his world of darkness--oh so did it hurt! He hovered above something... A tablet? No, not something as familiar. A card... One which he had seen ne'er before Upon it lay his face and his armoured form. His personal stats and some he had never read splayed before him in a language he did not comprehend. This was his first duel. Vision sharpened by the night cut across a cage-like structure known as a dueling field. Known to some--not to him. His very soul felt oh connected to one behind him. A casted glance beyond his shoulder depicted the image of a human boy. What was this sick game? He heard a title called out, 'Black magician!' And somehow he knew! This was his name... Somehow he knew, but not of his own knowledge. 'Attack!' What? He was to follow the orders of a mere child? What sense was there in this? Yet he replied with loyalty and obediance. As if by some force, he felt himself leap foreward and expell some sort of polluted sparkle from his palm. Watching in horror from behind placid eyes, the mage ended the existance of a living being across from him. Murder?! Standing silently in the shadows--a mute-- the mage recalled the duel. No, he had learned since then, a duel was not murder. A duel was life. And within a duel, life is to be ended. And if it is not, then one's own life is temporarily taken. The graveyard. He knew not that was what it was called. But the graveyard. Pillar stones and broken graves. A ghastly reaper to abuse you and taunt as if you deserved punishment for your failure. The mage heaved his shoulders, remembering how he at first was afraid. At first was angry. It had been too long however. The shock and pain had worn away. The duels, they still brought their agony. But they brought their life. The shadows lived. They began to breathe about the mage. He blinked--untouched--it was time to enter the light once more. It was time...to duel.