A/N: Well, my life for the past week and a bit has been consumed by the new Dragon Age DLC that popped out. Had to go save the world, check on fictional boyfriend (he's fine, says hi), that kind of stuff. So this is very last minute, all of this. Might have been able to do better. Or maybe not. Who knows.

In Sacrifice

A life of an eternal battle was the lot of the Dark Magician. He was born a fighter and he died a fighter, only to reborn into another war, and another awaiting death. One would think that such a life would not be a life worth much, as it was full of death and destruction. As it was a life where there was always someone else that held the reigns, someone else who gave the order. A life devoid of free will.

Yet despite not having much of a choice, the Dark Magician fought by his own will. He fought for friendship and for love. He fought, because the man who controlled him was worth fighting for.

The Dark Magician knew that he could be called upon to lay his life for his ruler at any moment. And he would. Because he had complete faith in his card carrier. He had pride upon his own skills, he had the strength and the skill. He had saved his carrier countless times before. But if so needed he could put aside the pride, bow his head, and sacrifice himself. His was a life of battle, a life meant for only that. A life he would give again and again. Because he was never asked to do more than he could, more than he wanted. Because his life was never sacrificed in vain.

He would always fight side by side of his commander, even in the darkest of moments. Such as this.

The darkness he was facing in the battlefield was somehow very familiar. It pulsated with ancient magic and with memories. With power. The Dark Magician could recognize that there was nothing he could do to defeat it, not alone. But the call was not his to make. He would even fight a battle that was doomed for loss. Anything for his ruler. He could sense the card carrier's anxiety and worry and he wished to do anything to ease it.

When his ruler placed a card of sacrifice, he stepped into the ritual pot willingly. This was not the first time he had been sacrificed in order for someone more powerful to be called upon.

There was sweetness in the pain. There was magic in the air. Storm clouds gathering, the order of the battlefield slowly crumbling apartas chaos took reign, as he took control.

Chaos was the moment between life and death. It was the unexpected and often violent passing, it was the moment when the plans of mortals and even gods went awry. Chaos hung in a single drop of blood, the last one spilled.

One couldn't call for chaos without a sacrifice. The sacrifice of order.

And that was why he wasn't often called upon. The Magician of Black Chaos. The master of all magicians. There was a price to be paid for calling upon him. A life.

The sacrifice didn't mean death, death was not chaos, death was part of order. It meant giving up. It meant becoming one with the being that appeared in the eye of the storm, the one who could wield chaos itself.

There was joy in that moment. In that moment when the Dark Magician became one with the chaos.

They were both beings of magic. The dark magic pulsed in their veins, it spilled from the pores of their skin like black ink. They were beings of power. And their power was ultimate.

The Magician of Black Chaos changed the very battlefield he stepped upon, under his feet rules and laws broke into pieces, shattering like glass. In that moment the light became dark and the strong became weak.

And the Dark Magician was the order broken fueling the Chaos raging in the battlefield, reaching into every corner and even beyond the battlefield, into the minds of the players.

The Magician of Black Chaos raised his arm, and in his being the Dark Magician burst into power.

He existed and did not exist in the chaos gathering into the other Magician's fingertips. He was the ancient words of power mumbled in tongues lost and forgotten. He was the energy surging, condensing into the ultimate spell.

For a moment he was every probability in the world.

There was no pain in sacrifice so sweet. There was only joy of giving himself up so completely, of becoming so much more as he did. The student and the master becoming one, protecting what was most important in the world, the person they fought forand who fought for them.

Because of his sacrifice the Chaos could stare down a God. And win.