6 years.

I simply can't believe that it has been six years since that fateful day, when destiny itself placed the diary in my hand, showing me forever what my destiny was…teaching me who I was born to be.

It seems almost sinful to call this book a diary. It is my bible, my guide to life, my friend, my teacher, my lover. It as shown me how I can become better, how I can become stronger, smarter then I ever dreamed. It has opened windows that I didn't know even existed and unlocked doors to buildings I never dreamed of entering.

Son, you have no idea what this little book has done to me…how it has changed me.

But you will know soon enough.

And so will the world.

&&&&&&

Arliss let out a sigh of happiness and relief as he stepped off the small aircraft's steps and onto the runway of the Cairo Airport. He looked around him, taking in the golden tan sand, the light blue sky, the light bouncing all around him. He happily removed his sports jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, before flinging his outer garment over his shoulder.

He could hardly believe he was here in Egypt, steps away from beginning on the path to discover his destiny. He had been dreaming of this day for 6 years, saving his money, making preparations, doing all his power to be in top form when the day finally arrived and he would finish his first task.

The young man had changed so much during those 6 years. Gone was the pesky baby fat that had once clung to his face and frame, making him look like an angelic cherub. Now, his body was lean and fit, muscles carved all about his form and his face stunningly beautiful. His light brown hair had continued to lighten, unlike his brother's which had become a dark brown when he had reached puberty. Now Arliss had a honey blonde hair from days out in the sun, kept short; his skin having a proper Texas tan, only he didn't have the pesky tan lines his fellow Texans had to endure. He wasn't one for modest.

He had shot up like a weed, and now towered over everyday folks at 6 foot, 2 inches. He stroked the neatly trimmed Van Dyke beard he had grown, thinking over what he would do when he arrived and mourning the fact that soon he would have to shave it. The beard made him look too mature, and he couldn't afford that. His steely gray eyes stared straight ahead, locked on the motorcycle that he had rented and paid extra to have waiting for him.

He slipped back on his brown cord blazer, not caring about the heat, and pulled on the helmet, tightening the straps of his backpack and racing out of the airport's circle drive, shooting onto the high way; a grin plastered on his face. He would not stop for food. He would not stop for rest. He was coming.

He was coming.

&&&&&&

I don't know what I am gonna do when I finally see him. Will I get down on my knees and pay homage, like a pilgrim finally reaching the Holy Land? Will I spit in his face, and ask how he could betray everything he believed in? Will I stand there, quiet and unmoving like a stone on the Mississippi's banks, unable to even thnik clearly? Will I cry? Will I scream? Will I feel joy? Will I feel pain?

I don't know what I am gonna do when I finally see him. I just know, it will be the right thing to do.

&&&&&&

Arliss carefully brushed the sand away from the hidden marker hidden on the ground, studying it carefully. When he was sure that this was what he was looking for, he stood up and made his way beyond it, to the cliff face that loomed above him.

He had memorized this part years ago, had committed it to memory. Still, there was a small thrill at finally being able to apply all his skills to this task. His hands glided along the hard rock, finding the gentle hidden grooves that were carved into the stone, tracing the outline, passing by the trick grooves until the entire patch he had been touching flashed with a bright white magic, the cliff rumbling until the rock gave way, revealing a door.

The young man smiled to himself and slipped into the stone hallway, following it down as it led him deep into the earth and cliff, farther and farther. He could smell something baking, and hear voices laughing cheerfully, bouncing off the walls. He stopped, for a moment, soaking it all in, prepping himself for what he was about to do. Steeling himself, the young man hurried forward and emerged from the tunnel to find himself in a small living room, one you could find anywhere in the world. The stone was covered in dry wall and mock wood, the floor a rich carpet. Two figures sat on a beat up couch, watching a small tv.

"I do hope I ain't interruptin', but my does something smell good!"

The men on the couch whirled around to face Arliss, shocked that someone had been able to enter their home whom they did not know. They stood up, ready to defend themselves, but Arliss moved past them, moving towards the small dining room table and selecting a chair to sit in.

"You all won't be mindin' if I take a gander and rest, would ya? I be mighty tied from tryin' to find ya." He replied, laying the accent on thick.

The smaller of the two men looked at Arliss and frowned, staring him down. The taller of the two moved to protect the smaller from their intruder.

"Who are you and why have you come here?" The man asked.

"My name is Arliss…and I have come because I have business to discuss with Master Marik."

The smaller of the two froze with a start, his mind shutting down due to the last two words he had heard their strange guest utter. His partner also seemed to be startled, not expecting Arliss to say that.

The southern gentlemen turned as a tall woman emerged from the western style kitchen, she too having heard what was said and wishing to know exactly what was going on in her home.

"I suggest you sit down Odion, Ishizu. Master Marik and I have much to discuss, and I assume we can do it over dinner. As I was a'sayin' to your boys here, I am mighty hungry and could use a home cooked meal." He smiled sweetly at her and stood up, giving her a polite bow. "Allow me to help you out, Miss Ishizu, since your boys seem to have never been taught proper manners." Arliss breezed by her and entered the kitchen, the sound of pots being moved could be heard.

"Who is that man?" Ishizu whispered, almost a hiss.

Marik frowned. "I have no idea…I know for sure he isn't a gravekeeper, with the way he looks, acts, talks or behaves. If ever there was an anti-gravekeeper, that would be our guest Arliss."

Odion nodded. "I must agree Master Marik. However, I am more curious as to how this Arliss got here, and even then, why he refers to you as Master Marik." Odion schooled his emotions. "Something is different about that man. Can you two sense what I feel coming off of him."

"I do, Odion." Ishizu whispered as Arliss returned with a fourth plate setting and a chair from the kitchen, since he has previously stole Ishizu's spot. As he left once again, humming softly to himself, Ishizu continued. "There is magic around him, shadow magic. But more then that, bewitching magic, very strong and alluring."

"He has been bewitched?" Marik asked.

"You misunderstand me little brother." Ishizu whispered as she heard Arliss approach the door. "He is the bewitcher, not the bewitched."

Arliss lad out roasted bird Ishizu had made, along with the few side dishes and a small pitcher of water. "There you go, Miss Ishizu. I must say, I must have been missin' a home cooked meal for some time, because this meal smells so good I swear I could kiss you."

Ishizu frowned, wary of the young man. Had she not already sensed the bewitching magic coming off of him, she might have fallen for that comment. Now, she understood that his man had some sort of power to charm and disarm, and she was wary.

'But is it a magic power?' She wondered. The bewitching aura seemed not to come from magic as she had once thought, but from his soul. Could it be that he had been blessed with a honey covered forked tongue, manipulating minds to get what he wanted? She had heard of such people, blessed with powers that appeared to be magic based, but came from within. She would have to keep a close eye on this Arliss, and see exactly what he was up too.

After the proper rites, the meal began, though it was uneasy. Arliss refused to discuss anything with the three gravekeepers until he had eaten, and the group was forced to follow his lead.

Finally, after a half an hour and several helpings, Arliss patted his stomach and sighed. "A mighty fine meal, Miss Ishizu. Mighty fine. Now, if you wouldn't mind boys, I think we should get down to business."

Marik nodded. "Who are you Mr. Arliss?"

"No need for the mister, Arliss is my first name. And as for who I am, I am someone who…how to put it…has studied under your methods, Master Marik. Yes, studied…that's the way to say it."

"What do you mean, studied?" Marik asked, confused. "I never remember meeting you before."

Arliss grinned and reached into the inside pocket of his coat. "You didn't, but still your words reached me." He pulled a small object from the blazer and tossed it onto the table to let Marik have a better look.

When Marik saw what Arliss held, he felt all the air leave his lungs in one great gust. This throat constricted, and his mind was running at speeds he never dreamed were possible.

'My diary…by the gods, I haven't seen that in years…not since battle city. Not since the disappearance of…' Marik let out a shaky breath. He had remembered the call, the plea in his mind. He had ignored it, back then filled with anger and rang, unable to care about others. Now, he regretted what he had done, or better put, what he had failed to do when back then.

"How did you get that?" Odion asked, knowing exactly what that was.

"When I was just a lad, me and my bro went to the Battle City tournament, hoping to beg for some good cash, steal a few wallets, you know what I be sayin'? But one day, I was doin' my usual beggin', and I see this man, runnin' all fast like and knocking my money out of my hand. I chased after him, and he goes into this alley, actin' all strange. He is calling out, 'Don't abandon me.' Or something like that, and then…well, I think you know what happens."

Marik closed his eyes and let out a sigh. "I ignored him…let him die alone…" He swallowed, trying weakly to rid his throat of the lump that was forming. "You know…I regret a lot of what I did back then…but his death was one of the worst…" He looked up at Arliss. "You found this diary."

"I didn't find it." Arliss replied, insulted. "Fate lead me to this here diary, it showed me my true path."

The gravekeeper ran his fingers through his hair. He knew exactly what was in that diary, and could only imagine how it could warp the mind of an innocent child. Inside was his lessons in life, the dark spells he had discovered, the secrets of the world and his sinister plans. In the wrong hands… 'It appears I have ruined another person's life…but maybe there is still time to save this man.'

"I know you grew up reading this diary…you must understand that everything I wrote in there…it will only lead to pain…suffering." Marik let out a deep breath. "You need to forget everything you have learned from this…maybe forget the last 6 years. It is for the best." He moved to take the diary, by Arliss snatched it away, clutching it to his breast tightly.

"There ain't no way that you are goin' be taken this here diary." He pointed an accusing finger at Marik. "I read every word you put in this book…and following it's lessons, I have gained wealth and knowledge beyond anything even you were able to do." He leaned in. "I ain't here to worship…I ain't here to ask your advice. I don't care about you, traitor."

"Traitor?" Marik asked.

Arliss nodded. "You heard me, boy. You betrayed yourself…your rare hunters…for our enemy…the pharaoh."

"Our enemy…there is no 'our'. You are not a rare hunter, and you will never be a rare hunter! The rare hunters are gone."

"No…just…leaderless." Arliss said. "Haven't you figured it out yet, Master Marik? I came here to duel you."

"Duel him?" Ishizu ask, no longer able to keep silent. "Why would you want to duel my brother?"

"I am goin' duel him…" Arliss said, taking out a deck. "Because that's the only way I can become the master."

"What!" Marik asked.

Arliss gave him a wolfish grin and bowed, letting his hand extend out dramatically. "I challenge you, lord of the rare hunters, to your position. If I win, the rare hunters…are all mine."

Marik shook his head. "There will be no duel ad there will be no hunters. Odion, please remove Mr. Arliss and take back my diary so we may destroy it, so no one will ever read it again."

"Yes Master Marik." Odion made a move towards Arliss, who stared him down, not even flinching.

"ODION, STOP!" Ishizu cried out. Odion paused, and for the first time, felt something was wrong. "I sense shadow realm magic…he has summoned a monster from the darkness."

Arliss nodded. "That is correct…the lady has a good eye." He waved his hand nonchalantly, and from the shadows of their home, a figure dressed in black appeared, his golden face mask, armor and red silk scarf the only things given him away. The figure flicked out two throwing daggers and held them up for Odion to see, ready to strike at an instance. "May I present my KA, summoned forth thanks to the spells in your own diary, Master Marik: The Strike Ninja."

Marik stood up, his hands gripping the table, his eyes blazing in fury. "NO one enters my home and threatens me and my family…you want a duel Arliss, let's have a duel. Ishizu, get my deck and duel disk. Odion, clear some space. I am going to finish this young man off right now."

Arliss merely smirked and walked over to the backpack he had left on the floor near the doorway, taking out his own duel disk and a deck. Ishizu returned as Odion pushed the couch to the wall, giving them plenty of room.

"When I beat you, I want my diary back, and you to swear you will never again even thing about the rare hunters." Marik challenged.

"And when I win, I'm goin' take your title and diary, and resurrect the rare hunters…only this time, they will be stronger…better….indestructible. That's right…I have spent these years correcting your mistakes, and my rare hunters will not fall like yours did. We will rise to the top, and rule the world of dueling."

"Enough talk." Marik said, drawing his cards. "Let's see how good you truly are. I set one card and summon Bowganian in attack mode." The hovering, one eyed arrow shooting machine appeared on Marik's side of the field, weapon raised and ready. "Make your move."

Arliss merely nodded, his face unreadable. "I'll start by summoned Strike Ninja in attack mode, and have him attack your Bowganian." The ninja leapt from behind Arliss and threw his daggers…

&&&&&&

It's an interesting experience, dueling someone you look up too. On one hand, you have this awe factor going against you. It's you vs your hero, you in the role of all his or her opponents. You stand there, starin' 'um down…wondering if you can even touch your idol.

ON the other hand…you want to prove yourself against your hero…it is the ultimate thrill. To prove that you can take down the man or woman that inspired you. Oh…there ain't a thing' like that thrill, boy, as beatin' someone that brought you into the game you love. Nothin' like it.

But this duel…this duel was nothin' like I expected it. As I dueled Marik, I realized something.

He ain't my hero anymore.

I'm beyond him.

&&&&&&

Arliss frowned, looking down at Marik's prone figure. Odion and Ishizu knelt at his side, trying to help him stand. Arliss looked over at his ninja and nodded, the monster fading away.

"No wonder the rare hunters failed." Arliss muttered, slipping Marik's diary back into his pocket. "If that is the best you could bring against me, I am surprised the Pharaoh didn't destroy you in a second." He headed towards the door, casting an ill look at him. "Thanks for the duel."

"Wait…" Marik called out, reaching for him. "You…you can't do this…you don't realize….the rare hunters, they don't work."

"Yours didn't…mine will." Arliss said. "You see, Marik, you have set into motion the events that will bring the rise of the rare hunters once more. We will do what you didn't: Win."

Ishizu frowned. "You can't do this…"

"I can and I will." Arliss said, casually slipping his back pack on, duel disk and deck already safely tucked inside.

"You will only bring pain and suffering if you continue." Odion pleaded. "IF nothing, remember what happened to Master Marik, Arliss."

Arliss turned and looked down at all of this. "The name is Master Arliss" And with that, the king of the rare hunters left the gravekeepers alone in their house, wondering what evil was about to be unleashed upon the world.