Chapter 5: On The Line

Roselle's back clashed with the tree behind him, producing a sword which immediately clashed against the stolen staff of Sivah. The owl grinned as they pushed. A mark dug itself into the staff from the sword before a menacing grin found it's way to Sivah's face.

"My dear Rose." The wielder of darkness cooed. "I am more than willing to accept a surrender for my closest partner."

Grimacing from the nearing blade of their own sword, Roselle lowered himself underneath the blade dodging the staff as the two weapons crossed and slid off of each other, and the Dream Weaver met his adversary face to face. The two locked eyes with a bittersweet regret. Without warning, Roselle pressed his lips against the owl's, and the latter closed their eyes in a sensational embrace before suddenly being interrupted by a great push that sent Sivah backwards into the ground, scraping their back and letting out an anguished cry from the fresh wounds from their current and previous encounter.

"I could say the same for you, my dear." Roselle besmirched at the owl, however he did not smile in satisfaction. His frown traveled miles into the stare of awe into Sivah, who was whisked away by strands of darkness into a standing position, ready to stroke once more. Charging up, the owl launched himself in a manifestation of corrupted tendrils looking to pierce the heart of the Dream Weaver, only to meet the face of absence as the forest trail grew larger in front of him. Sivah stopped, looking around aimlessly, and screamed at his enemy to show themselves in a fiery rate which peeled the bark off trees and raised rocks into the air.

"I do not play games!" The wielder of nightmares shouted.

"Then perhaps you should." A disembodied Roselle spoke from beyond the rot-stricken leaves. A cowering fear escaped his testament, with the words piercing into the nerves of Sivah like burning daggers fresh from a forge. The owl pushed their arms outward with the spinning of fingers, surrounded themselves with darkness in an amalgamation of death and suffering. A distant yell could be heard, and the shield was quickly struck and disappeared at the site where Roselle's sword had stricken once again. Sivah parried and leaped back with a tendril of light piercing through his leg, causing another screech of burning pain. He quickly returned the favor before grabbing his former assailant with a clasped fist bleeding onto black fur, and Roselle suddenly found himself suspended in disbelief. His sword was taken, broken in half by a magical apparition in resemblance to a tortured soul who begged for mercy before dissolving before the now entrapped Dream Weaver.

"I. Was. Nice." Sivah strained, glowing blood seeping from his wounds and blackened tears of enraged guilt now flowing freely. "I gave you the chance to grow with me, to put away your former mortality, your former mortality, and join your lover at the side of the battlefield in a blaze of glory! Is that not what you want, Roselle? To be remembered not by who you were, but who you can be? The tortured souls born and trapped in these forsaken rings understand nothing of us. Humanity has forgotten us for thousands of years! I will be reborn yet again, given my full powers once more, and return to my rightful title of Sivah Sanguine, the Conqueror of all which reign among the stars!"

"No you won't." Roselle said, recieving a punch to the face and a stream of darkness clasped to his mouth. He could do nothing but watch the soliloquy play out before him.

Sivah began again, twirling the staff as he turned his back to Roselle. "I could destroy everything, my dear Rose, to the simplest imp and the most powerful god. You believe otherworldly brings to be different than us - A sickness brought on by perhaps what was once another even greater power. I will become that power. I will rebirth the stars and return the Earth, as well as all of the other souls ensnared in this tragic game of galactic cat and mouse.

Collections of cruel visions showed themselves to Roselle. In them, a true evil turned it's head, brandishing a now aged staff in a body not belonging to them. Their silhouette somehow glistened in the darkness, and a show of fire danced across the buildings of cities flashing against the walls of darkness. Finally, the visions closed and showed the Dream Weaver a reflection of themselves. His pale skin and own glowing eyes stared back, his starry robes now tattered with red stains and tears by cruel and unusual punishment. He turned away as well as he could in his imprisonment, but Sivah turned his head back to witness the extortion.

"Do you need more to see?" The maniacal owl asked, eyes now searing with hate. "I am not the catalyst, I am the results of the catalyst. You, my dear wonderful Rose, stole the catalyst away from me, thrusted from my grasp like a temperamental child desperate to grab anything his sorry little pathetic hands could hold. I am not apologizing for the truth, and the truth is that I am the true messiah. The whisperings of sweet nothings will reigns down with my arrival to Earth stronger than any shofar ever could. The chains of oppression will not be brought by physical torture, but by reassurance. I will be one with humanity, one with their visions of believe and teachings so that I may extort them in the ways that no mortal soul could ever comprehend. I will not be the antichrist, though that might wish the arrival of one to usurp my throne."

The owl turned away one last time. With one smack of the ground with the staff, an collection of black flame shaped into an encasing orb around Roselle, who was quickly shoved from view by the transparent bubble forming a solid black around itself.

"This staff will not be returning to you." Sivah smiled. "As I will not as well."

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A/N: Oh boy, here we go with the demigod drama again. I just wanted to take the time to thank you all for your attention to this story and dealing with what is admittedly a very slow and gratuitous process to shape Best Beloved into a cohesive story. I really do appreciate it.

By the way, a shofar is a type of ritualistic horn. It's commonly made from a rams horn and used in religious practices, mainly Jewish ones. I grew up in a somewhat multicultural Church, and I'm not particularly religious myself anymore, but I think they're neat.

Stay tuned for the next chapter! I won't say what the musical title will be, but it's a good one!