Chapter 1: A New Threat on the Horizon

A jar shattered in the training room below, but not even that managed to draw the magician from his meditation. He sat cross legged, his eyes closed, with the backs of his hands resting in his lap, in a gesture of supplication. He wore the traditional robes of his ka—the Dark Magician. They were a deep purple, Trajan purple to be exact and were very costly, worth more than gold. To him the royal color symbolized his undying devotion to his king. He even kept his brown chestnut hair long down slightly past his shoulders, as a sign not of the traditional mourning rites of the Egyptians, but as a sign of his loyalty as well.

He was currently in the middle of his study on the floor, the traditional working posture of a scribe. The white walls were lined with shelves containing many papyrus scrolls and fire crackled in the copper braziers set against the walls. There was a desk at the magician's right and several scrolls were unrolled on it. Mahaad's ink well was still full as he had only been meditating for half an hour. His neat hieratic notes were compiled on a fresh scroll off to the left of the others. He inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled, stretching out his other senses, trying to sense deeper into the Duat. Eventually he determined that he had to act on the partial information he had gained, through his hours of meditation and study. He had been disturbed for weeks, but his dread only increased the more he tried to deny it. Even his ever distracted apprentice, Mana had picked up on how distracted he was during her lessons. Several minutes after the crash, Mahaad opened his eyes and stood slowly, stretching his stiff joints. His blue eyes surveyed the room, the crackling of the fire was comforting, in the oppressiveness of the ever present Shadows.

His brown chestnut locks fell past his shoulders—this was one of the rare moments that he left his hair uncovered. His helmet was rather burdensome at times, and meditation required all of his concentration. His trademark helmet sat by the door, along with his staff, which leaned against the wall. Another vase shattered. Mahaad massaged his temples. He could already felt a headache beginning to form. Being dead had its advantages, and dwelling among the mut—the dead, and demons in the Duat, or Underworld, enabled him to more easily keep track of the Enemy. Mahaad wasn't just worried, he was scared, truly scared for one of the first times since he had died more than three thousand years ago.

As yet another vase shattered he reached his hand out and his teal staff flew into his right hand. He brought it close to him and closed his eyes. He felt a bit more at east holding his favorite weapon. After a few more seconds passed he opened his eyes and crossed the room, unlatching the door and shutting it softly behind him. He continued down the hallway past his own chamber and down the stairs, where Mana's voice became louder.

"Ugh!" she yelled in frustration and Mahaad saw a streak of red from under the door and another pot shattered. He opened to the door to the practice room to find Mana breathing heavily, beading in sweat and glowering at the only pot remaining, her staff was still glowing from the use of her heka, or magic. Like Mahaad, Mana too was dressed in the garb of her former ka beast—the Dark Magician Girl. Her outfit was blue and pink, and was too revealing in Mahaad's opinion. She too wore a headpiece, although hers was more like the tan cap she had worn in life. Her now blond hair was poking out from underneath it.

The room itself was large and plain, the only objects inside at the moment were burning torches and a lone clay jar, in a sea of pottery shards.

"Mana," he said softly.

Instantly her anger was gone replaced by shame and embarrassment. Her staff returned to its normal color and she turned around to face her mentor, her aquamarine eyes downcast.

"Shouldn't you leave execration to the priests? Some might take it the wrong way, since you're obliterating every clay jar we own," he asked her, his eyes containing the slightest trace of amusement, despite his serious expression. "Weren't you supposed to be moving the vases across the room, not destroying them?" he asked. There was a slight reprimand in his tone now and she picked up on it.

She scratched the back of her head nervously, and readjusted her helmet. She tried to gauge his reaction as she stood there nervously.

"Yes, Master," she said crestfallen.

She had been trying to practice harder, since she knew something was really bothering her Master but he hadn't confided in her what it was yet. She knew better than to confront him about it though, so she waited. She hung her head and was surprised to feel Mahaad wrap his arms around her from behind in a brief hug.

"It's alright," he soothed, guessing her thoughts. "I'm not angry. You can have the rest of the day off. We'll pick try the Transportation Spell again tomorrow."

She jumped up and squealed, and started jogging in place, her staff clutched tightly in her right hand.

"Thank you Master Mahaad!"

She tore from the room in much brighter spirits to seek out one of her best friends the blue skinned Mystical Elf. Mahaad watched her go and then eyed the many pottery shards strewn about the room, the dust from the obliterated pots still lingered in the air, which now smelled like wine, as the jars Mana had destroyed used to contain wine. A few days ago, Mahaad had granted his consent that she could practice moving them across the room, in preparation for the upcoming festival.

His staff glowed and the shards vanished. Satisfied he left the room, and made his own staff disappear. He was relieved that he had canceled lessons with Mana that afternoon because he needed to discuss matters of great importance with Karim. He was one of the only other priests in this region of the Duat. The former bearer of the Millennium Scales had been the second of the Nameless Pharaoh's priests to sacrifice himself and in the process of prematurely forming his akh or bright one, became known as the Celtic Guardian. He had been unprepared like Mahaad was for Lord Osiris' judgment; and that had landed them in this particular region of the Duat one better known as the Shadow Realm. It was inhabited by ka beasts and demons alike.

Mahaad turned and walked to his front door and left the warmth of his home and went out into the Shadow Realm itself. There was a natural chill in the air, Mahaad had no doubt that at least part of this was that the Bark of Millions of Years which bore the Sun god Ra, hadn't been seen in this particular region of the Duat for millennia. Mahaad had become long used to the oppressive cold here.

Mahaad's house like other buildings that surrounded them, was a replica from his memoires of Egypt. It was a two story noble manor like the one that he had grown up in before he went to the palace for his training to become a priest and powerful magician. The manor was white and despite the chill in the air, the roof still had sleeping mats on top, in case it got too hot inside to sleep. The bottom floor had a large portion of it dedicated to practicing the magical arts with Mana, instead of the usual livestock. It also housed a kitchen.

He made a mental note to remember to ask the Pharaoh to thank the Ishtars for performing his funerary cult so faithfully for the last three thousand years. The food obtained from the daily offerings was kept in a storage room on the first floor. The second floor contained the sleeping quarters and Mahaad's study.

He shut the door behind him and descended the stone steps and made the short trip into the heart of his Masters' Deck nation. There were many Egyptian style buildings around, including an open air market. Ka beasts mingled among the stalls looking and hawking for wares as it was still only the third hour of the day, or as Master Yugi would say 9 am. Mahaad turned to look at the replica of the Temple of Karnak they had constructed. They had modeled it after later Pharaohs had expanded it and it was by far the most central feature of their nation, which they had affectionately named Kemet or the Black Land. Mahaad knew that by this hour Karim would have finished the daily rituals attending to Lord Amun's needs, and could be found at home. Mahaad nodded in greeting to the ka and those he passed on his journey. To his relief he only encountered one demon on his way—Blood Eater. The demons sometimes had relatives, minor gods who served in the tribunal and needed to be treated with respect.

Mahaad arrived at the quarter of town where the Pharaoh's warriors lived. He called to Duos who waved, as he headed into town, presumably to pick something from the market. Duos along with the other ka beasts that had served the Nameless Pharaoh in life but hadn't been reincarnated to the modern game of Duel Monsters, had found refuge in Kemet.

Mahaad climbed Karim's steps to a traditional looking noble manor from New Kingdom Egypt. He crossed the threshold and walked along the path with the garden courtyard at his right. It was cooler in the garden, that it had been outside and Mahaad hoped someone would answer soon. Even though he had grown up in Egypt thousands of years ago, he still preferred the warmth of Egypt. He also still chose to wear linen, which allowed the cold to easily seep through. He knocked on the wood door and waited. He heard the familiar slap of sandals on marble floor, and the door soon opened to reveal a bald Egyptian man dressed in a kilt.

"How may I help you Master Mahaad?" the man questioned.

Mahaad smiled to himself. In order to make the Shadow Realm less depressing several centuries ago Mahaad had decided to activate several shabti or answerers, to make their nation feel more like their Egyptian homeland. The idea had taken off and soon they had hundreds of them running around. Karim had modeled this particular one off his old butler.

"Can you tell me where I might find Karim?" Mahaad asked.

"Yes, he is back in the armory, sir. Will you come inside? I will go get him for you." The butler stood aside allowing the taller Egyptian to enter, which he did.

"Have a seat." The butler swept his arm indicating several couches.

"Thank you Weni," the magician replied, taking a seat on the couch nearest to the entrance to wait.

Weni left the room to go get Karim. He returned several minutes later with the infamous Celtic Guardian in tow. Mahaad rose to greet his old friend and fellow priest. They had been friends before their deaths but that bond had only been stretched in the intervening years. Karim had already changed out of the robes of the priesthood and back into his familiar green and brown armor. His sword was sheathed at his left hip, and wore a blue cape and a brown helmet over his now blond hair, his ears poking out to the sides of his helmet.

They clasped hands. "Greetings Karim."

"Greetings to you as well, Mahaad," he smiled warmly. "Won't you have a drink?"

"Yes, thank you."

Karim turned to Weni, "Get us some wine,"

Weni bowed and bowed, backing out of the room. Karim shifted his attention back to his friend. Wordlessly they both sat down. Karim sat on the couch opposite Mahaad and leaned forward, waiting patiently for his fellow priest to speak what was on his mind. Karim knew that Mahaad's failure to wear his helmet was a sign that he had been mediating more. His body was tense and he looked tired and worried.

The magician leaned forward, matching the elf's posture. "Karim, I know you feel it too."

Karim slowly nodded. So this was the matter which Mahaad wanted to discuss. Karim didn't interrupt but let continue. "The Enemy is getting stronger. While it is true that he has been breaking free from his prison slowly for the last several thousand years his progress has sped up exponentially in the past few months."

They were interrupted by the arrival of Weni bearing a tray with a flask of wine and two gold cups. The butler set them on the table.

"That will be all Weni thank you."

The man bowed and left the room, shutting the door behind him. "I know Mahaad and I am worried too. There are hardly any priests left!" his voice rose at the end. He busied himself with the flask and poured a cup of wine first for his guest and then for himself. Mahaad nodded gratefully and accepted the cup offered to him. Karim looked worried too.

"In the Duat we are the only ones. We can't stop him by ourselves." Mahaad looked devastated and lost more so than the elven warrior had remembered seeing him for a long time. He hadn't looked this lost since Raphael had taken Yugi instead of the Pharaoh in the fateful Orichalcos duel. Mahaad sipped his wine.

"We have several priests in the clan of Tomb Keepers," Karim reminded the magician. Mahaad just shook his head. "It is not enough, and even if it were, we are still duty bound to alert the Pharaoh about this."

Karim involuntarily grimaced. There was no doubt that the Pharaoh would take the news hard. The unspoken question remained between the two men, how were they going to break the news to their king? They both knew that it would go over a lot better if it came from them and he didn't find out they had knowledge of it after the fact. Both men sipped their wine, each lost in their own thoughts. Karim held his cup with both hands and looked squarely at Mahaad.

"You're going to be the one to tell Pharaoh the news. You know that, right?"

Mahaad met his challenging, yet friendly gaze. "Yes, I know that. but…" he trailed off, lowering his eyes to the goblet in his hands.

"-But you wanted my support before you left? You wanted the company of someone who understands the gravity of the situation?" These questions made Mahaad give a rare smile to his friend. He nodded, preoccupied with the red liquid sloshing in his goblet.

"Relax." Karim set his cup on the table and put his now free hand on his friend's shoulder. "You're Pharaoh's favorite. He really cares for you."

"Thank you."

Mahaad rose to his feet and Karim rose with him, removing his hand, and let it fall to his side.

Mahaad took one last swig of wine, savoring the sweetness before he too, set the cup down and clasped Karim's hand again in parting. "Good luck to you Mahaad. May Horus protect you," Karim intoned.

Mahaad nodded his thanks and walked out the door. He noted how ironic it was that those were the exact same words the Pharaoh had spoken to him before he died. That didn't really do much to relax his nerves. The wine, while refreshing, didn't calm his nerves or his headache, as much as he hoped. His stomach was knotted with unease. He walked the rest of the way home in a daze and entered the sanctuary of his study one again. He retrieved his helmet from the floor and put it on. He closed his eyes and the muscles in his face slackened. He spoke the words of the spell and vanished. The Pharaoh and his light had started to duel more and it had taken a toll on everyone in their Deck, but as Mahaad the Dark Magician, his Pharaoh's trump card, he took the majority of the strain.

The Dark Magician opened his eyes and found himself in the stone corridor of the Millennium Puzzle, between Yugi and the Pharaoh's soul rooms. Yugi's door was ajar and he noticed various games spread across on the floor, including a half finished puzzle. As Yugi wasn't in his soul room, Mahaad assumed he was currently in control of the body that he shared with the Pharaoh. This meant that Pharaoh was in the other darker and more forbidding room opposite Yugi's innocent one. The Pharaoh's door was old and worn, the Eye of Horus was engraved in gold in the door's center. Mahaad knew that Pharaoh could detect intruders and didn't take those who trespassed on his soul lightly. Mahaad recalled his first encounter with Yugi and Shadi.

Pushing these thoughts aside he walked cautiously up to the door and knocked softly three times. "Enter." The confident baritone, voice sent chills through the magician as he hadn't heard his Master's voice directed at him, except on the dueling field, in a very long time. He obeyed opening the door and entering the room. Since the Pharaoh had gained his memoires he now had a bed in the center of the room., while familiar Egyptian scenes lined the walls. Torches mounted in brackets cast the room in shadows. A khopesh rested on a stand ready at a moment's notice. The current occupant was wearing the matching blue pants and jacket of the Domino high school uniform, and was lying on his bed his fingers interlaced behind his head, propped up by several pillows. The bed groaned in protest as he stood to greet his visitor. Mahaad instinctively sank to the floor in a low bow, before his king.

"My Pharaoh."