DISCLAIMER: The Muffin doesn’t own Yugioh. Kazuki Takahashi got there first.


“Celtic Guardian in attack mode!” the strong, deviant voice of Yami called out through the young Mutou’s body as he lay the card in question face up on the field.
From the face of the card, in a mass of holographic swirls, the stature of a tall and handsome young boy wielding a sword emerged. His golden hair, framed by the ceremonial jade helmet, loosely brushed against the tops of his armoured shoulders. His painted face a set mask of stern concentration. The handle of his sword gripped tightly in an uncovered hand, prepared for action. He was ready.
“I sacrifice Celtic Guardian to summon the Dark Magician!” the voice boomed once again.
The holographic image blinked “Sacrifice?!”
Just as soon as he had appeared, the confused golden-headed warrior felt his forged limbs deconstruct pixel by pixel as his card was unceremoniously sent to the graveyard.

The guardian elf sat on the gravestone and stared at his feet miserably. Once again he was sitting alone in this barren place; the home of defeated cards. Being destroyed in an assault was one thing, defeat in a frontal attack by a much stronger opponent had some vague form of respect, but sacrificed?! And for the Dark Magician even!
“That purple, arrogant jerk!” the young elf spat. Despite the harshness of his words, the spectre’s voice was soft and smooth, bell-like even, very unlike the voice of a hardened warrior. But then again, he wasn’t really a ‘hardened’ warrior. What was it that whiny girl said? “Just a pretty face”?
“Hmph! At least I have a pretty face.” He muttered darkly, the chime of his sweet voice bouncing off the surrounding tombstones and disappearing into the dark oblivion of the graveyard.
The image of the brown haired witch fluttered before the downtrodden warrior, grinning broadly. Looking at it made him feel sick to his stomach and he desperately tried to swat the apparition away with the sharpened blade of his sword.
Once the ghoul had been dealt with, the Celtic Guardian threw his sword down to the ground in frustration. It was bad enough to be ridiculed by his master’s friends but now even his comrades had begun to loose respect for the jaded warrior. The sniggers and taunts he got from the other cards as he neared them was heart wrenching. “Cannon Fodder” they would say, “Decoy”. The shame was almost unbearable. Obviously they all thought his large pointed ears were just for show… or maybe they just didn’t care.
The Celtic Guardian looked up and surveyed the surrounding landscape. He hated this place. He would have thought that he’d have gotten used to it by now but that was not the case. The dark and lonely atmosphere still bothered him as much as it had done the first time. He shook his head.
“Sacrificed…”
Moments later, the shadowy landscape of the graveyard began to dissolve signifying that it was the end of the duel. A victory for his master no doubt and no bonus points for guessing which card gave the final blow. Stupid Spellcaster.

The dark and murky graveyard disappeared and the Celtic Guardian found himself back within the confines of Yugi’s deck; although now he was starting to wish he wasn’t. Some distance across the barren space that made up part of the cards resting place, he could see a crowd of figures huddled in a tight fitted group, chatting excitedly. At the centre of the group, not showing any indication of hearing the praise being showered upon him, stood the static, composed figure of the Dark Magician. The constant praise didn’t seem to move him, in fact, the legendary magic user didn’t seem to notice his admirers at all. Rather he was staring unblinkingly past the various babbling shapes, some large, some small, some man shaped, some barely distinguishable as shapes at all, and straight into the eyes of the isolated elf. The Celtic Guardian stared back at the superior card with utter contempt. He didn’t like the way the Dark Magician always seemed to be staring at him like that. Every time he was near the magician, even when they were in the same hand or both out on the field, the low level warrior could not help but feel those piercing blue eyes upon him, scrutinising him.
“Probably thinks he’s too good for me… disgusted by my very ‘weak’ presence.” The demoralised card rationalised.
The Celtic Guardian hastily turned his back on the rabble and the icy stare of the Dark Magician; he was tired and needed to rest. Avoiding the Reaper of Cards did take a lot out of you.
“Why not just leave?” a small voice whispered.
The elven warrior hesitated for a second then looked around suspiciously but his golden eyes could detect nothing other than the praising rabble on the other side of the void. The Celtic Guardian blinked as he strained his slender elven ears to hear the sound again…nothing. He may have imagined it…he was tired…but now that he thought about it the voice did have a point. If he hated it so much here, why didn’t he just leave? The outside world couldn’t be any worse than here…for starters there was no Dark Magician and no sacrifices. The answer was obvious. Because it was forbidden.
“But why?” Because the Dark Magician… said so… That was right. The Dark Magician had forbidden any card to leave the deck other than during duels or by some other command of Yugi’s but he had never given any of them a reason. The other cards just fell to their knees, licked his boots and agreed.
Not this card though. The Celtic Guardian was going to the outside world. He would have to do it discretely though. He didn’t want to risk one of the Dark Magician’s devoted followers getting any strange notions about carrying out their prodigy’s orders.
The Celtic Guardian quickly glanced over to the rabble of groupies. Fortunately for him they were all too busy drooling over their idol to even notice. If the Celtic Guardian was going to leave, then he would have to do it now. Even the most loyal fan eventually got bored of praising.
The Dark Magician watched as the Celtic Guardian disappeared from sight. His cool blue eyes transfixed yet, as always, unmoving.