Not Exactly a Win-Win Situation

There was a brief spark of light to illuminate the darkness.

He marveled at the brief shimmer, for in this all-encompassing darkness, it felt unlike anything he had experienced before.  He had no memory of any former life experience with comparable warmth.  Far too quickly, the void overwhelmed once more.

A time later, that brief spark reappeared, stronger, alight like fire and near burning in its warmth. 

Something about the darkness around him changed, glowed with intensity, and he could sense the magic he'd once used flare to life again.

The monster was clumsily but intentionally using his essence this time, although now there was better focus. 

The trickle of incoming energy was sweeter than he could ever recall it being.

The incredible rush that followed shortly after came surprisingly fast.

The victim was already giving energy?

The monster had found a particularly good source and was taking his time in consumption. This was good. The taking must occur in small increments, with care and deliberation to avoid death.  

He floated in the darkness, feeling the trickle of shimmering energy caress the lingering wisps of his spirit, and as that energy was taken in by the abyss, it drew him in slowly along a tremulous line of life toward its source.  He was in no position to resist the pull of the sweet power, and he was lulled into a vague contentment.  He briefly forgot his state of inexistence and reveled in the next rush of power that skated across his spirit. This rush was more complete, so he guessed the monster must have joined the victim in release.  This victim was brimming with an amazing wealth of magic.  

He was carefully drawn out from the depths of the darkness and a pale light grew around his awareness as the magic flowed forth.

It felt as though the warm power was stealing him away from the void.

He wondered if his magic would follow with him when he transferred to his new prison, but he found he didn't truly care.

The magic rushed a few more times as he floated through a blinding haze of pink light and fell into the darkness again, but this time the darkness felt warm, like the shadow of joy on a midsummer day. Some remaining wisps of his magic stubbornly clung to his spirit as the foreign energies danced around him.  With no physical anchor to contain the excess traces, he could taste but not consume.  He knew when the monster had finished with his victim, and he knew that the victim --she-- would survive the encounter.  He had been drawn within her, and he felt almost at peace as he settled within her warmth and the sparkling energy of her magic suffused his spirit.

His consciousness faded for a time after that.

He became aware again later, when something in his existence began to change.  His spirit had attached to something insignificant - a minuscule piece within the monster's victim that had been unclaimed and free to ... 

free to what? 

He wasn't sure, but his instinct called him to it and ensured that he settled within...