The Chaos-Lord Beneath the Dark

There was a Giant who built a Tower To reach above the sky. He meant to take the clouds in hand And make the heavens lie. He built with things whose ancient name Was almost the name of demon. He climbed until the Tower shook. He climbed— And then it fell. He leapt from stone. He reached for flight. The Tower gave him none. Above him— Cloud. Below him— Nothing. And somewhere in the falling, The Games had just begun. Who watches the watcher? Who names the named? Who plays the player? Who wrote the Game? The Cube turns. The seven faces open. WAR. HEL. SIN. The masks are watching. The animals are watching. The Statue does not blink. The Ghost does not speak. And somewhere beyond the farthest shore, something is looking back. Who watches the watcher? Who names the named? Who plays the player? Who wrote the Game? You thought you were watching. You thought you were safe. But the door was behind you. And the eyes knew your face. [Choir grows louder] Seven Games! Seven faces! Seven ways the world can turn! Seven Games! Seven faces! Seven lessons never learned! The watcher watches. The watcher waits. The player enters. The player takes the bait. The Giant tells the story. The story tells the Giant. And somewhere in the Tower, Someone laughs. [Everything stops.] ORJALITH KREYBORN: I am Orjalith Kreyborn. The Chaos-Lord Beneath the Dark. I do not play the Game. [Long silence.] I watch who does. [Whispers begin around the listener] Observer... Observer... Observer... [Whisper becomes chant] Who watches the watcher? Observer... Who plays the player? Observer... Who wrote the Game? Observer... Who invited you? [Silence] The Statue's eyes remain open. The Ghost has gone still. The Tower turns— Above or below, Before or after, The clocks refuse to agree. The three Giants look toward the listener. And for the first time, They do not know Whether they are telling the story... or being played. [One final whisper] Neither does the reader.