The Game

It appears my words cannot yet destroy judgement. 

I stalked the caverns of red light, sending the shriekers to the black embrace of the Raging One.  Sending their empty shells to the Raging One.  Eating the ash that fire could not send to the Raging One.

My heart raced, but then my body raced too. Then my racing body was covered in stone by soft whispers from the shadow of red light.  Was this a favor of the Dragon to the dragon?  The whispers healed my body and kept me strong as I sent the entire tribe in to the maw of Pyrtechon.

But then I hears footsteps.  Soft like a child's, from where the voice came from.  I did not know who this is, friend, foe, demon, angel; but my machines helped.  I let the stalker follow me until I could vanish from sight and then follow it.  I attempted to subdue it, but did not, and so I appeared to flee.  I ran to the one place stalker could leave through and placed a binding machine.  Stalker stumbled and I was upon it. 

My Stalker was Blood Magic, she who thought to view me in the menagerie, who instead will take everything from her.  She seemed wary, so I behaved as if she did not matter.  I gave her more truth this time.  I spoke of danger and trust.  I let her distance seem good.

Sometimes I must grow something so that there is more to send in to the waiting maw of the Raging One.