Flavor and the MTG Color Pie - Cosmologies Pt. 2
In the last post, I discussed the nature of mapping out existing cosmologies from Forgotten Realms lore, and the problem of accuracy and resolution most maps suffer from. I attempted to fix that problem with my unfolded octahedral map, which I donāt think turned out half bad. So thatās that, right?
Planes are Boring
Unfortunately, once again, no. While we've figured out a geometrically accurate representation of planes and their connections, weāve only brushed against what each plane actually means, does, or represents. The Prime Material Plane covers almost everything that a traditional fantasy setting would deal with, while the Feywild and Shadowfell have enough interesting lore and history (a chaotic funhouse mirror and a still, scary shadow of the material world) that they slot in well. Most of the outer divine planes arenāt half bad either, though they vary wildly in their narrative usefulness (putting Bytopia at the same level of importance as The Nine Hells or Literally Heaven feelsā¦ unearned). Weāll get to those later.
The real problem lies with the Inner Planes we touched on last time: they donāt do anything. Sure, you've got the elemental planes, the energy planes, all the mixed border planes, and some clever boundary conditions. Structurally and geometrically theyāre fine. But lore-wise? Story-wise? Is āplace thatās all fireā or āplace thatās all waterā actually doing anything interesting? These are supposed to be the baseline constructors of reality, but the only trait they have is being made entirely of one element?
A lot of people are familiar with the four elements through Avatar: The Last Airbender. ATLA succeeded not by just having the elements, but by tying them into character and culture. Airbenders are nomadic and free. Waterbenders are emotional and expressive. Earthbenders are stable and traditional. Firebenders are aggressive and industrial. Of course, these arenāt rigid categories, and the exceptions are often what make the story compelling. But the point is, the elements gain narrative value when secondary traits are layered onto them. Without those, all you have is an overly complicated game of elemental rock-paper-scissors.
So what do we do about our planes?
The MTG Color Pie
Magic: The Gathering has deep roots shared with D&D, and the venn diagram of players is pretty much a circle. Unlike the 4+2 elemental scheme we've been dealing with, MTG is fundamentally built around the Color Pie: five colorsāWhite, Blue, Black, Red, and Green (WUBRG). These have clear elemental connotations (Blue = Water, Red = Fire, Green = Earth), distinct thematic flavor (White is Peace and Order, Blue is Knowledge and Perfection, Black is Power and Opportunity), and mechanical identities (White focuses on life gain and small creatures, Red on direct damage and aggression, Green on powerful creatures and mana ramp).
The interplay between these five colors is, according to MTGās Head Designer, part of the golden trifecta that makes the game work. Playing more colors gives you access to more strategies and mechanics, with the potential for powerful synergies. Playing fewer colors makes your deck faster, tighter, and more focused. Thatās how you represent elemental interplay.
And the five-color system has another benefit: structure. Each color has two allies and two enemies, meaning every color has a clear sense of position and relational tension. Not only has each individual color been extensively explored in essays and podcasts by the MTG design team, but nearly every color combination has been fleshed out with its own identity, built from the friction and alignment between its components. Any given three-color combo must balance at least one ally pair and one enemy pair. That tension makes synergy something you earn, not something youāre handed. That clarity gives it weight.
The Fifth Element
So hereās the problem. Weāve identified that the five-element system from Magic: The Gathering is in some ways superior to the four-element system from D&D, both because the numbers create richer relationships, and because the colors are simultaneously elemental and philosophical. We have a clean mapping between three colors and planes: Blue = Water, Red = Fire, Green = Earth. White, being the color of angels and flight, maps neatly onto Air.
But where does Black go?
The first impulse might be to align Black with the Negative Energy Plane or the Shadowfell. But that warps the system, it moves Black off the core elemental ring and breaks the symmetry of the relationships. The cleanest solution is to give Black what the others have: its own element.
In many five-element systems, the fifth is something more abstract, often called Aether or Spirit. If the elemental planes represent fundamental forces that both compose and reflect the material world, then Black deserves the same.
So I propose the fifth element as Spirit.
Not spirit in the sense of ghosts or souls, but in the sense of drive, passion, and personal purpose. Spirit as want. The raw, amoral will to act. To take. Spirit is the hunger that shapes reality as much as water carves canyons or fire reshapes forests. A plant stealing sunlight. A predator chasing prey. A prey animal trying to out-breed extinction. A person chasing meaning at all costs. These are all acts of Spirit.
This force doesnāt align with good or evil. It simply wants. And if everything else has a plane, then so should this.
The actual Plane of Spirit might be imagined as an infinite bazaarāpart Kowloon Walled City, part mythic marketplace. Itās dense, layered, transactional. If thereās something you want here, thereās a way to get it. You may have to lie, cheat, steal, trade, beg, kill, or invent your own currency. But itās possible.
Building a New Map
So here it is.
By restructuring the cosmology to include Spirit, we preserve the existing elemental planes and para-elemental spaces, while expanding the system to support more nuanced, layered relationships. Many of the resulting combinations line up naturally with the MTG guild pairings that inspired this model. Some combinations push into new space, incorporating three base elements, both in material composition and psychological implication.
Each subplane is no longer just a gimmick of "itās made of sand" or "everythingās ice." Each becomes a fully realized metaphysical zone, tied to belief systems, ethical drives, and lived experience. The map no longer just defines the matter of reality. It defines its meaning.
Next Steps
We're still inside of the inner planes now, but we've already begun to reshape the relationships and complexity of a planar cosmology in a more detailed way. When we continue, we'll look outwards to the Divine Outer Planes, and vertically towards the Energy planes of positive and negative, to see where there are places for improvement, and how they might relate and align to our existing changes.