Chapter 14: A Little Less Conversation

A glimmer of desperation shone throughout the residence. Roselle paced across the kitchen in a silent trance, only interrupting himself to reach for his morning coffee and ingest the liquid of his life before returning to the mental stammering of his existence. Ideas good and bad took turns capitalizing their space in his mind, or manifesting into emotions that were too irrational to act on. Roselle finally snapped out of their process and found a seat near the window, adjusting to the sudden calamity. It was as if the world only stood still when he did.

A tired owl approached. Siva had already taken their place in their partner's hands before grabbing themselves coffee to adjust to the early mist giving way to the sunlight. They shared a satisfying pause of silence, with neither saying anything and absorbing the experience of being near one another. It was much more enjoyable for Sivah.

"My dear, I cannot get rid of two honorable mercenaries before the purge." Roselle blurted out in a groggy tone. Sivah immediately acted and took a stand before turning and leaning against the counters in an act of revolution again the first words spoken between the two in the day, before the day had even become a day.

"Already with this shit, Rose?" Sivah questioned in bewilderment as they took generous sips of their coffee. "I don't even have the energy to be dramatic and bitchy, yet." The owl sighed. "But, if we have to talk about this, it's fine if we keep the two around, I just want them on a closer leash."

"If I keep them on anything shorter than what I have them on, it'll spell disaster for us." Roselle said. "We would never get anything done. There is only so much you can do to control someone, you know this."

"Do I?" Sivah asked rhetorically, unraveling a darkened hand. A stream of pitch black darkness seemed to devour the temporary space they resided, with an unstable orb which barely held it's place at the center. Distant cries of disturbance and discomfort could be heard. "Most haven't been able to escape my grasp yet… including you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm kidding!" Sivah exclaimed before accidentally spilling a portion of their drink as they began to reach for a towel. "Gosh, Roselle, where did your sense of humor go? We're evenly matched, you know that. You manage the dreams, and I collect the nightmares, my dear. Have you forgotten that's how we've been for centuries?"

"I have not, Sivah." Roselle said sternly. "It's more concern than anything. You want efficiency, but efficiency isn't always just granted. Sometimes it needs time, and time is the only valuable thing I have left aside from you."

"You know I would be nothing without you, Roselle. It's merely concern on my part that you're not willing to improve."

"Improve? Do you mean my ability to accept change?" Roselle asked.

"I just said that." Sivah said, frowning.

"Right. Yes, my willingness to improve. It's definitely not been out of my head, as of late. The idea that I can become irrelevant used to be laughable. Now, it seems, you could never get an account of anyone that knows my face in their minds. I fear my own stagnation will be the death of me, if not just being used to humanity and their own ways of doing things. I don't fully understand the mind of a demon."

Sivah leaned across the relatively small table adjacent the owl's partner. "All the more reason to adapt, my dear. Hell moves a lot differently than Earth. Eugh, feels gross to even say. I digress, though. You know this as well as I. Irrelevance is one of the strongest killers down here. I've seen great men and women go through tribulations to power through the insanity of this place. Every bullet fired was justice for their old species, and none of their bullets worked when I came for them, and neither did their strength. I brought them forward into fires they did not know they could feel. The colors of their eyes drained before their blood."

"Your high praise of my mercenaries confuses me, Sivah, when you clearly regret it now." Roselle said.

The owl resorted to a chuckle out of offense. "I've never mentioned anything about my high praise except for you bringing it up. Twice. That includes now. I know what I said, and I let it be. Times change, people change, and what needs to be done with them changes the most. Contracts of mine have high survival rates for a reason. They are encouraged to preserve themselves, and that includes their minds. Do you know what the weakest link is to a warrior, Roselle?"

Roselle raised an eyebrow. "Their minds?"

"Their. Fucking. Minds. They never think about it! Haha, it's always so amusing to see the realizations in their eyes! But similarly saddening as it means the old personality can never be recovered. Even with extensive care, a little drop of trauma always soaks into the skin like acid, or a sword brandishing a thousand other, smaller swords. Bodies can outlive minds by decades, Roselle, and it makes me so excited to see each time."

"I assume this will turn back around to my two mercenaries somehow?"

Sivah blinked, staring outward in a blank daze. "What? Oh, hm. Right. Let's try that, I guess. Well, I look at your two mercenaries and I am impressed. Of course, it's not my place to tell you that, but it's true. I saw them as very capable! Now, though, it seems like they are far less as such. They didn't even know the goddamn gun was a hoax. Who would ever believe a story like that? Everyone with a basic education knows that we don't give a shit about impressing God."

"A lot of people here do." Roselle retorted, leaning back into his chair as he crossed his arms. The coffee was getting cold.

"Let them learn." Sivah grinned. It held sharp corners against the owl's even sharper teeth, and Roselle could feel the room become heavier as a result. "Tomorrow is the eve of the extermination. I imagine many heads that I've reached into will be silenced, cut off at the neck with no remorse. It's almost as euphoric as our sex!"

"Less head means less business for me." Roselle stated bluntly.

Sivah's smile shifted to a grim tapered frown flooded with menace. He leaned closer to their partner, and their faces met with mere inches to spare. His voice fell to that of a creature, whispering quietly to lure out the pray it had been graciously provided by disguising itself as an ally. "Then stroke the flames which you already have burning, my dear. All you have to do is find one good mercenary - A cutthroat with no intentions as to interrupt our plans with their… how do the royal owls say it? Emotional incompetence? Yeah, that. We need much less of that. We need someone with zest for the work, like me."

Roselle stood. His mind began to cross trails and the markers on the whiteboard of his mind began to need replacing. A dry sense of confusion and defeat mysteriously flooded their body, and the room became heavy in a much more manageable way. He opened his palm, light dancing across the fingers as sparks, and his partner clasped it with their own hand, forming a connection of different powers and magic which flowed through veins and cycled out into the world to be used again. Roselle sighed and embraced the feeling as the sun rose and hit their face. "Are you suggesting that it be yourself who goes after my targets?"

"Well, absolutely not, but I can't say I'm against the idea." Sivah said proudly. "Who gave you the idea to be so bold, Roselle?"

"Desperation, more than anything. No offense, dear."

"Full offense, my good bitch." The owl suddenly swore and broke their connection. It did not physically hurt Roselle, but it did hurt as their partner grew irritated. "That means everything to me. Desperation is not something I provide. I am the withholder of tithes, Roselle. A shadow in the corner you were uncertain about. The voice in the heads of those lucky enough to sleep tonight. I am Sivah, Emperor of Nightmares! I could do everything your little cardboard cutouts can do, and I can do it more effectively!"

"I am at most humoring the idea." Roselle assured the owl. "It would take a lot to convince me something as so brash as sending my love head first into battle."

Sivah leaned down and gave a peck on the cheek to his partner. "My dear, I thrive in the chaos of war. It's my favorite past time."

The two smiled, and Roselle held out their palm once more. Sivah returned the favor. Circles of light and darkness applied and retracted their appearance through glowing traces of matter cowering like burning paper across the air.

Roselle provided a moment of silence. "If I were to hypothetically say yes, my first assignment would likely be to grab those two that Erosa has been on about. The imp and the ghost."

"Is that all?" Sivah asked. "No royalty needing some sleep paralysis?"

"Sivah, you know better than to step into the reins of Goetia." Roselle said. "We're blue collar royalty, not upper class. You might as well announce your arrival at that point."

"I announce myself when I wish to be seen." Siva retorted. "The Nightmare Weaver does not walk into a trap without knowing the escape."

Roselle sighed, bringing his partner in for an embrace. "Fine. Find the imp's if you wish, but get back here before the sunrise of the purge. I know I can't stop you, but I will demand you preserve yourself for both our sakes."

"Of course, my dear." The owl of darkness grinned horn to horn once more, happily accepting the affection. "They'll already be dead by then."