What is the most bizarre occurrence of the past two years?

I pace back and forth in front of the tomb of Arim the First. Was that the most terrible thing? I can still remember the sound of the spike being driven through his still-soft flesh. The feeling of his body collapsing under the blows. The smell of all of the oils and preservatives used to keep his body from rotting until he could be entombed.

I march to the entrance of the tomb and stare into the tomb. Pieces of him still litter the floor of the tomb. Limbs, torso, his head in the corner. He's nothing but a dried-out husk. "He was embalmed. Shouldn't he still be... fleshy?"

I did that

I sigh and silently thank my father for that favor. He's been quiet for awhile. I think he's avoiding me.

Because of the male stalking my every move with his grey eyes. He is polishing a sharpened blade in his hands, but his eyes aren't on his work.

"Hearing the death god speak to me... hmm, that's odd... but I can't honestly say it's at the top of the list. It feels natural for you to be my father." Maybe because I never really knew my own real father

I am your father

"Yes, I know. I know." I roll my eyes dismissively. Semantics. Nateos is the only father I've known.

"My gargoyles!" I say. They're strange... it's strange to have them and they're strange little beasties!

"Those are gargoyles?" Thane muses. "I thought they were goblins." He stops staring at me to glance at the Mishu.

Mishu hisses at him, flashing his pointed fangs and gathering the treasures he stole from the returned dead warriors more tightly to him. A small bronze canteen pops out and he swipes it back into the pile with the end of his tail.

Goblins?

He's the smart one?

I frown, waving off both males. Neither of whom are helping me right now.

"Then there's Tafia and Sera and their bond. I can cut through those, that's different."

Thane's eyebrows quirk upward. "You can?" He shifts away from me warily. The blade flashes in his hands as he turns and polishes it. Flash, flash, so quickly...

I scoff at him. "I can't see our bond so I can't cut it. I only had that ability for awhile. I thought that Love had given me the gift, but now I wonder if it was my father."

"I did cut the animal spirit of that one soldier," I say thoughtfully. "If I stab you over and over then maybe something will happen." I narrow my eyes at Thane.

He grins, surprising me.

"What?!"

"You cry tears of acid," he says to me. A completely unasked for addition to my list, in my opinion.

I stop pacing to stare at him, feeling offended. "This is my list!"

"Sorry," he murmurs, looking abashed, but those grey eyes are twinkling.

My chest catches. Thelios would look at me like that. Mischievousness and affection.

"You are the Lady Grief, Princess. That's special, no?" Thane hurries to ask.

I start to pace again. He's trying to distract me from my own emotional pain and I'm cowardly enough to take it. "It's a list of bizarre things that have happened to me."

"I thought it was a list of what makes you so special," he says with a shrug.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I hurl in his direction.

He pauses. His hands stop rubbing the rag over the blade. His grey eyes fix on me intently. It's as if he's studying me, looking for chinks in my armor.

I straighten my back. My body ready for whatever blow this male is about to deliver.

"What else has happened to you, my Lady?" one of the other males asks me, his brown eyes wide with as much excitement as a child hearing their favorite bedtime story.

"I watched my first Fated, a male who betrayed me and had me murdered and replaced, come back from the dead in the tomb of his Forgotten grandfather. Then, he opened seven more tombs, each containing a dead male who has miraculously returned to life," I say quietly.

All of the males' eyes fall away from me. Ashamed. They should be ashamed. They all belonged to that House. All except Lier, who is nursing his broken nose after fighting his way back into consciousness.

Thane stands to his full height. I blink rapidly to hold back my tears. Memories twist and turn in my head. Thane, Thelios, back to Thane.

"Why are you here?" I ask him, plead with him.

He takes two steps towards me, sheathing the blade into a hidden holster with the slightest of movements.

Then, the powerful warrior, the heralded Lord of the First House, the male who triumphed over death to return to the above, kneels and bows his head.

As if by unspoken agreement the other seven males come to us and kneel behind him in a row.

Thane lifts his head, his grey eyes piercing me with their intensity. "Lady Mara, Princess of the Underworld, the Lady Grief, goddess of mourning. We are your Basru. Protectors of the gates of the Underworld. Warriors of Death. Sworn to Natoes, god of Death, Lord of the Underworld, your father in this life and the next, to serve and protect you before all else, on our very souls."

"This is the most bizarre occurrence," I say faintly.

Thane smiles at me.

They stand up, proud, strong, stalwart, frightening. Some of them start to disperse, going their separate ways to... well, I'm not sure what warriors do when they're not in battle.

One of them falls. "Fuck me!" he shouts. He looks down at his boots, cleverly tied together in ten different knots.

I glare at Mishu, but the gargoyle won't meet my eyes.

---

I follow the sedate pace set by the elderly males as we wind our way out of the valley. My demon doesn't like this. He is of the opinion that we should snatch our Lady and take her back to the Underworld, back to safety.

I can decide later if that's the best option. I am loathe to take her from this life. I am already responsible for destroying the life she could have had, once before. She has a purpose here, a duty that I can see burning in her. My Princess is so young, but she sees; she listens, she hears, she feels, she learns.

The snail's pace is a good thing, with how wobbly and frail my Lady is, even after her recent meal. After our declaration of loyalty she hasn't spoken much but to tell us we need to leave the valley.

Actually, she announced that she was leaving. We followed.

I catch the eyes of Bloodletter. Black, beady eyes are looking at me with pure calculation. I nod to him, falling back to the rear of the group. Silently I stop to let him fill his vials again.

I watch the grey-shrouded form of my Lady march on through the sand as if she is absolutely determined to pretend that I'm not here.

The smile is wiped off my face with the stinky sock. Socks snickers in delight as I take the offensive rag off of my face.

"I've been inside the guts of demons that smell worse," I tell him.

His orange, glowing eyes narrow on me in speculation. I lean closer to him. "The bowels of the Heirok demon smells of rotten eggs, sulfur, and gano shit, that has been left out in the sun and is now strewn with maggots and slowly liquefying."

He quivers with indignation. I hand him the sock, "here's your sock, Socks."

He lets out a squeak and hurries after my Lady, flying into her arms with a series of chatter that sounds like tattling to my ears.

She tosses a glare over her shoulder and I try to smile innocently.

I am still silently chuckling to myself at the petulant anger of Socks when I see the party stopping at a too-familiar sight.

"Shit, Captain," Holsten pales, scowling at the tower.

"I'll sleep outside, thanks," Carnak says slowly.

"What? It's a tower, what do you think is inside?" Grey asks, confusion on his face.

Lier also looks bewildered by the visceral reaction of warriors that have faced down demons in the Underworld have for a bit of stone and mortar.

"This is the tower where we spent our last night... here. It's fucking haunted," Ililie spits out.

"This tower?" my Lady looks at with confusion. She stares at the door as if she's listening for something. "There are no spirits here," she says carefully.

"If you say so, Princess," Ililie says doubtfully.

She laughs a little, but it's a nervous laughter. "No spirits," she murmurs again.

I follow her inside the tower, first, ignoring the flipping in my gut. It's just a tower.

There are no spirits inside. Instead, we are confronted by a very rotund Postite wielding a large wooden spoon.

I glance at Socks, still curled in my Lady's arms. Is there something I don't know about these... weapons? It's a good thing the god sent us here to the above. I shudder to think of the Spoon-wielder and Socks as my Lady's only defense.

"Mara!" he drops the spoon back into his robes and pulls her into a hearty embrace.

"You should address her as 'Lady Mara,'" Lier, the stickler for rules, pipes up.

"He may call me Mara, Captain Lier," she says in surprise.

"I am no longer the Captain, my Lady," he responds. Leave it to Lier to try and explain everyone's proper title.

I ignore what my Lady says in return. My attention is caught by the sight of two females sitting next to a sleeping red-haired child and a much younger baby.

They see me looking and gasp. "Lord Thane?" one of them says.

I recognize Sera. She is Anthea's cousin.

Fuck.

I draw my blades, my actions followed by my warriors, many of whom are still outside the tower. I hear some of them curse, this place not helping their sense of unease.

"Lady Sera, what the fuck are you doing here?" I growl out.

"What are you doing?" my Lady hisses vitriolically.

"Get behind us, Princess."

"This is my family, you insufferable ass!" she cries out.

Sera comes to stand next to my Lady, her own blades held at the ready.

I let us all wait, weigh each other, ponder the other's intentions. Patience is the greatest virtue that the god of Death has granted me. When I see the anger in my Lady's eyes I understand just how valuable it is.

"I think," I say slowly, "that there are stories to be heard here." I sheath my blades and my warriors follow my actions.

I watch as the other female, unknown to me, comes forward with the baby and entwines her hand with Sera's. That is what it takes for Sera to finally put her own blade away. I have no problems if she wants to keep it out, but maybe not around the young ones.

"I apologize for startling you. It is my duty to defend my Lady against all threats," I explain to the wide-eyed audience.

"This is Thane? The Thane?" Spoon-wielder whispers to my Lady.

"Yes, it is," she confirms. "My father sent them here. They are... the Basru," her voice trails off, face paling. "I read about you," she says softly. "The demon with six eyes and seven hearts. But... there are eight of you."

"I am the Captain, Princess. They are the Basru," I explain gently.

She understands immediately, the confusion clearing and the anger returning as she glares at me.

"So, I'm stuck with you? For eternity?" she growls and stomps her foot, because she's adorable.

"Mama?" the little red-haired child sits up, blinking her dark brown eyes.

"Poppy," my Lady goes to her, arms outstretched.

I wait for the child to ask for her mama again, but instead she sleepily curls into my Lady and murmurs 'mama' again. Dark eyes peek at me through the mop of red hair as bright as blood. She's a pretty child.

"Papa?"

Dread crawls up my throat, choking off the denial. I see the shade of Patriarch Rimon step out of the shadows and place his hand on the child's head.

You know who beget this child

My heart breaks for the babe in my Lady's arms. The male we tortured as a practice-dummy. The male who locked his Fated in the cellar. I suck in a soft breath. He locked his baby in that cellar, too. This baby.

I should have enquired as to his name... so that I could make sure none of his blood kin live except this baby.

"I am your Uncle," I tell the child gently. I get as close to the pair of females as I dare. "My name is Thane. I am the Captain of the Basru."

"Capin?" the child looks at my Lady. Slowly, her fingers creep into her mouth. She puts her head down on my Lady's shoulder.

"Thelios," my Lady chokes a little on her tears, "he was the Captain of the Recondites. She called him 'Capin' at first."

"Was?"

I take a deep breath. Talk. We need to talk, but first, I need to do something else. Something I don't particularly want an audience for.

"Everyone eat, rest. We can all sort through the mess after we've settled." The older males are already finding spots to sit and eat. How my Lady ventured from the city with just a couple of females, a couple of children, and a few old males is mind-boggling. No wonder the god sent us here.

"Will you come outside with me, Princess?" I ask her.

She nods, reluctance in her body, but hands her daughter to the Spoon-wielder with a whisper and a kiss.

"Outside?" she murmurs.

I nod. We walk a little ways past the doors and the warriors that are gathered in the shade.

"She isn't my daughter," my Lady begins to explain, arms crossed around her waist in a tight hug.

"You don't have to explain, Princess. I know. Her father is being punished in the Underworld."

She nods, a satisfied light in her eyes.

"I wanted... I need to apologize."

---

Oh, no.

He takes a breath, "I was... expected to be the Lord of the First House. My House was always put first, my Lady. My grandfather taught me to never place my own desires before the House." He frowns at me and I realize that I am shaking my head. "Please, Princess. It is not an excuse for what I did to you. I need to explain because it is not just us that was affected."

I steel my spine. He's right about that. There's a war going on. Was my death nearly two years ago part of that war?

"My grandfather..." Thane pauses, "he was, I believe, crazed. He truly believed in blood-purity. He... he killed Thelios, my own twin, just hours after our birth."

I suck in a deep breath. "A baby?" I whisper.

"Yes, Princess. Because of his wings." Thane shakes his head. "Carnak and Rolle are wolven, did you know? They hid that from the First House."

"I digress," he murmurs, "my grandfather taught me all about purity, about the importance of my wife and therefore my children."

I wince, fully. He has a child.

"Understand, Thelios was not raised with these expectations. He had the freedom to choose, to be selfish."

I grow inexplicably angry. "Thelios would die for me, kill for me, steal for me. I am first to him. Myself, and Poppy," I amend. "You killed me. That is a world of difference that you can not explain by using your precious House as an excuse."

"I know, Princess," he says quietly. He shakes his head, "I'm making a mess of this. I'm not trying to deny everything that I have done. Thelios was your shield, my Lady. Was. Something happened to him, yes?"

I feel the sorrow and hurt bubble up. "He's with her. They stole him from me at our wedding."

"Your wedding," he repeats, blowing out a breath. "By her, you mean Anthea?"

"Yes," I whisper.

"Love plays this game nearly as deeply as your father does, Princess."

"Love?" I ask in a harsh whisper. I don't even want to speak the name too loudly, in case the foul goddess is listening in.

"Love is the instigator of all of this," he says grimly. "The battle raging between Death and Love isn't new. But it's coming to a breaking point."

"I think it's at its breaking point," I tell him, tears welling.

"She and Thelios- she has wanted to break your bonds. With us, with either of us, both of us, preferably. You see, my Princess, you are special." He winks at me, but I see the hurt and turmoil in his grey eyes that he's trying to hide.

For the first time since he popped out of his grandfather's tomb I wonder what happened to him? What horrors has Thane seen in the Underworld?

"Because of my father?"

He nods. "You are the Princess of the Underworld. You have two Fated bonds, my Lady. Love... she is jealous. Gods don't get bonds."

"Then she's free to choose who she falls in love with. No one can ever hurt her like I was. She should be happy," I say hotly.

"She is free to choose, Princess. But... the bonds of Fated are her domain. She plays with them, my Lady. It gives her power. Can you imagine if you had that power? To force bonds to hurt shifters?"

"My father says our souls choose our Fated."

"Our souls have more than one Fated, sweet Princess. But she chooses the bonds, my Lady. And she seems to like pain."

I waver, thinking. He is making sense. What an awful thing, to have connections to souls that you can never feel because Love, that bitch, is the one forcing bonds.

"So... did she give me two bonds, then?"

"No, you are a just enough of a goddess to choose your own bonds, but enough of an Acera to have them in the first place. Special."

"How do you know this?" I am not a goddess. How strange. My list is growing.

"Your father... he spoke with me, often. Lectures, mostly, mixed with insults," he says with something that sounds suspiciously like fondness.

I don't like this male having that sort of relationship with my father. He's my father.

"Don't be jealous," he winks at me.

I glare back. He's changed. He seems like he's changed, I amend. He seems... freer, ironically. As if the yoke of the First House and those expectations have been lifted.

"How do I trust you?" I ask him, looking at the ground and worrying with some of the burn holes in my robes. "It took me a long while to trust your brother and he is gone... and it hurts," I add in a whisper.

He pounds his fist against his chest, startling me into looking into his grey eyes. They are filled with a slight gloss of tears. "I am the Captain of the Basru, my Princess. Sworn to protect the Underworld, to serve you. My brother, he is the Captain of the Recondites. The First Recondite, sworn to protect all of the gods." I close my eyes, shaking my head. "I don't know, Princess, if he has betrayed you or not, but please, understand that I can't. Not anymore. Not ever again."

"I am sorry, my sweet Princess. And you may never forgive me. You don't have to. I will protect you anyway. My oath to you, my Princess, on my soul."