Disclaimer: I don't own Magic: The Gathering or Yu-Gi-Oh!

When Arrathir opened his eyes, he saw only darkness. In fact, he wasn't eve sure if his eyes were open or not, so great was the darkness. He blinked a few times, waved his hand in front of his eyes, but he couldn't see a thing. He left the ground around him: he was lying on cold dirt. Feeling around, his hand encountered a smooth, clod object. Arrathir ran his hand over it. It was about the size of his head and had two holes on one side. Under the two holes, there was a small hole, directly between the two. Under this hole was a series of small bumps. With a wave of nausea, Arrathir realized it was a human skull. The two holes were the eye sockets, empty and hollow, the smaller hole was the nasal cavity, and the bumps were the skull's teeth.

Where the Hell am I?

Arrathir noticed a light, swaying in the distance. By the pale halo around it, he guessed he was in a patch of fog. The light grew, and Arrathir realized something, or someone was approaching. Now the light was closer, and Arrathir could see it came from an iron lantern held by a cloaked figure. The hood covered the figure's head, but Arrathir could hear its heavy breathing.

Panicked, Arrathir tried to call on his mana, but he didn't sense any swamps nearby. He tried calling on other lands, but he came up blank.

"Save yer time," said the figure, now a stone's throw from Arrathir. The voice was deep and hoarse. "Yeh can't summon in here."

"Who are you?" asked Arrathir, frightened.

The figure threw back its hood and Arrathir recoiled in horror. The face under the hood was an old man's. The face was wrinkled by time; the bloodshot eyes were sunk deep into the sockets.

"Nice, eh?" said the man "I get that every time they come here."

"Where's 'here'?" asked Arrathir "And who are you?"

"Here," said the man "Is the Graveyard. As for me, I'm the Bonekeeper, but yeh can call meh Gurth."

"I'm in the Graveyard?" said Arrathir "But, does that mean…I'm dead?"

" 'Fraid so," said Gurth "It's always a big shock when yeh get here. The realization yer life's over, that yeh no longer exist. It's hard to accept. Follow me, there's someone who wants to see yeh."

Apprehensively, Arrathir got up and followed Gurth. As they walked, he could see pale silhouettes moving in and out of view in the distance.

"Gurth," he asked "What are those?"

"Those are the souls that reside here. Most of 'em aren't to pretty. Some with their heads gone, others with no arms, most of 'em beaten up and bloody. Yeh were lucky. Yeh seem in pretty good shape. How did yeh die?"

"Mind your own business," said Arrathir, abruptly.

"Suit yerself," said Gurth "I meant no offence. Ah, watch yer step now."

Arrathir saw they were walking in a field full of skeletons. They were so numerous, Arrathir had to tread carefully to avoid tripping on one. He was having trouble keeping up with Gurth's surprisingly long strides.

Eventually, the inevitable happened. While trying to jump over a pile of bones as white as milk, Arrathir tripped and fell, crushing several skeletons as he fell. He landed eye to eye with a skull, the hollow sockets staring accusingly at him. Suddenly, a bony hand shot up from the ground and grabbed him. Arrathir shrieked in terror and tried to pry himself loose, but the hand held him tight.

"What's the big idea?" said the skull in front of him "Can't you look where you're going?"

"Release him!' roared Gurth, cracking the skull open with the butt of his lantern. He helped Arrathir up. "Poor bastards," he said "All they want is to rest in peace."

They arrived at a wrought iron gate. Gurth stopped and said, "This is where I leave you. Go on in, he's waiting. Good-bye." Without another word, he set down his lantern and disappeared into the gloom.

Arrathir picked up the lantern and pushed open the gate. It creaked loudly as it turned on its rusty hinges. Beyond the gate, Arrathir saw a path; he took it. The path led up a hill and into a cemetery. Crumbling tombstones lay scattered around, the epitaphs unreadable from years of age. Arrathir looked at the flame of the lantern, his only source of light and heat in this unwelcoming and dark place. The light reassured him. As man had used fire to drive away wild animals in the past, Arrathir's falme drove away his fears.

Arrathir walked on, deeper into the graveyard, his ears picked for any sounds, but the only sounds to be heard were his footsteps on the gravel path and the hammering of his heart.

"I've been waiting for you," said a voice.

Arrathir reeled around and saw cloaked figure approaching.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I am Lu Chao," said the figure.

The name rang a bell to Arrathir. "The Planeswalker?" he asked.

"Precisely."

"Why am I here?"

"You are here because destiny has brought you here," said Lu Chao "The only way to leave is to fulfill you destiny."

"Which is?"

"Sit," said Lu Chao "And I will tell you a story."

Arrathir complied and Lu Chao began.

"Long ago, there lived five powerful Planeswalkers who channeled mana from your world to Dominaria. Mana is the life force that binds our worlds and the Multiverse together. For millennia, these mages lived in harmony, but eventually, conflict arose. The conflict built until it cumulated in a gigantic war between the mages. Three of them died from the power of the creatures they summoned to fight each other. The final battle for the control of the Multiverse was between the black and the white mage. As the battle raged on, the outcome was unclear, as both mages appeared evenly matched. Suddenly, the black mage used a powerful spell to destroy his opponent's creatures while resurrecting his own. The white mage, rather than let his opponent take over the Multiverse cast a devastating spell that obliterated both combatants."

"When it was all over, the surviving Dominarians began to re-build their society, but it was never the same without the mages channeling the mana. Everything was different. Since mana was no longer renewed, chaos set in. Powerful Dominarians began using mana for their own evil purposes. Before the war, Dominaria was a Utopia, but now it was a fragile society, divided against itself."

"However, the spirits of the mages endured and it was foretold they would return to restore Dominaria to its former glory. You, Arrathir, are the reincarnation of one of these mages."

"No," said Arrathir "It's impossible."

"But you are," said Lu Chao "The spirit of the mage is still dormant within you, but it is stirring. I am honored to be present for the rebirth of the Keeper of Black Mana."

"How do you know?"

"Did you ever wonder why you play best with you black deck? Or why you were able to summon the Havoc Demon in your duel with the white mage? Or why black mana is you g'imu?"

"I don't care!" said Arrathir "I don't want this!"

"You cannot deny your destiny!" said Lu Chao "If you will not willingly accept the spirit of the keeper, it will be forced onto you! Arise, Keeper of Black Mana!"

A green glow suddenly enveloped Arrathir. His entire body was glowing green, as if he had become a human neon tube. The mist surrounding him began to swirl around and up his body, creating a column that rose high into the sky. Arrathir felt stragely detached, as if he was not in his body anymore. As he swayed, he realized he was no longer in control of his body. He fought to regain control and soon found he could again move freely.

"Stop resisting," said Lu Chao "The spirit of the keeper must awaken!"

"No!" said Arrathir "My body is mine! No way in Hell is some spirit taking over it!"

"You will be reborn with the spirit!" said Lu Chao "Through death the keeper will awaken! Death is no obstacle for the Keeper of Black Mana. You can return to defeat Yami Marik. Don't you want to save your friends? They will die if Yami Marik defeats Yugi, which he will. I have foreseen it."

Arrathir hesitated. This was a fatal mistake. He immediately lost control of his body once again. His body was lifted into the air and hung there, like a puppet.

Lu Chao started chanting,

"Mountain, Island,
Red and Blue,
Forest, Swamp,
Green and Black too,
Golden Plains, the Five have spoken,
Keeper of Mana, now awaken!"

Arrathir's head was thrown back as he let out a howl, a column of light streaming from his eyes and open mouth. Help felt a massive surge of mana coursing through his body. The pain was unbearable and he passed out.

On the dueling field, Arrathir's eyes snapped open. He stood to face an astonished Yami Marik.

To be continued…