"What the fuck is that?" Thelios points to the words inked across my lower abdomen.

I look down, "you've never seen that? We practically lived on top of each other for weeks, Lios." I run my hands over the words, thinking about the day I took my oath.

"I don't watch you pleasure yourself, Thane. No one wants to see a tattoo so damn close to your cock."

I smirk at him. Good one.

"Anyway," Thelios lifts both arms for the goblin attendants to wipe him down with sand, getting most of the blood and gore off of him. "What does it say?"

"It is my oath. It says, 'I am the Basru. Guardian of the Gates. Protector of my Lady'," I say proudly.

He looks a little put-out.

"Lower your arms," the goblin hisses. Thelios puts his arms down and scowls at me.

"I don't have a tattoo for Mara," he says.

"You have a fucking hawk on your throat, idiot," I point it out and turn as the goblin fixes my belt loop. "And what is that pretty poppy flower?"

"It's just a Recondite tattoo. Many warriors have it," Thelios mutters.

"Not one with the Captain's crown."

"Lier has one," he spits out the name of the traitor as if it's filthy. "The same crown."

"I should get a tattoo for Poppy," I muse out loud.

Thelios glares at me, whirling his arms around to work out any kinks in the shoulder armaments the goblins are strapping on. "I should get a vow inked on for Mara," he snaps. "Why the armor?" he asks one of the goblins. The goblin just shrugs and finishes tying off the bronze and gold-gilded plates.

"It's fucking pretty armor, Lios. Don't you want to be shiny before you get it all bloody?" I laugh with him. Obviously we don't need armor. They are strapping this shiny metal overtop of skin of impenetrable scales. "Besides, where would you get a tattoo for Mara?"

He throws me a smirk and accepts the sword from the goblin. "I have empty space, brother."

I smirk back, "no one wants to see your ugly cock, either, little brother."

"Game begin!" one of the goblins hisses at us.

Turning, we sprint from the now-open wrought iron gate. This is old news, now. Thelios and I beat every opponent the depths of the Underworld throws at us. We are one fight from being at the top.

This fight.

The crowd explodes into a frenzy as my brother and I hit the sand lit by the torches hung all around the Arena. The crowd has packed the place, rows upon rows of faces screaming and cheering down at us. Banners of red and black stretch high in the air, held taut between the thin white poles stretching into the Underworld sky.

Females tear at their hair, their clothing, revealing their breasts and throwing down their undergarments, and sometimes themselves, for my brother and I. They should have learned by now, no female touches us intimately but Mara. Both Thelios and I are scarred by the memories of our own past mistakes. The thought of another female is revolting.

I know immediately that this fight is different as soon as our boots hit the sand.

Nateos is here, along with his elusive bride, Mara's mother, the Lady Kalla. She is wrapped in light silver robes, the color so similar to the ones my Princess always wears that it makes me heart ache. Next to her, the god resembles the Tasuri warrior that brought us here. They are sitting in the royal box, elevated over the sand below by just a few lengths.

I don't see any other gods. A few fights ago, the Water god appeared. He watched us win, then left without seeming to express any interest in us at all. I can only hope that he spread the word to Urto's ears.

The male we are fighting is enormous. An ancient soul, his body covered in scars from battles fought before Tmari existed in the above. Unlike many of our other opponents, he is not intimidated by us. Dark green eyes watch us, a cruel smile curled around his mouth. This male is something, the original wolven, if rumors are true. He is known as the Beast.

Thelios and I don't attack together. We want every soul in the Underworld to know that while we are one, we won't cheat by fighting two-on-one.

My brother goes first. We drew straws... three times. The first two times we fought and bloodied each other until the goblins pulled us off and hissed that we can't 'damage the wares.' Meaning ourselves. They just don't understand the love between brothers, I guess.

Odd little things, goblins. Most have no names, no mates, and no families. Their jobs are their lives, their sole reason for existing.

I stop short of the Beast, letting Thelios complete his charge forward. The massive warrior turns to Thelios, confident that I won't attack at the same time. Good. Let the word spread of this, too, so that Urto thinks we won't attack him together.

Thelios hits the Beast with an audible thud, echoed by the booming cheer from the crowd. We are known as the Captains, although I don't think that anyone knows what we are the Captains of. Sure enough, the chant begins, 'Captains! Captains!' ringing through the air mixed with lower chants of 'Beast!'

I pace closer to the struggling males. They are so fast, their movements so swift, that the clang of metal on metal comes a heartbeat after each hit. Most of the crowd can't tell who is winning, who is getting more hits or taking the more serious blows, but I can.

"Lios, your left arm is slagging," I rumble to my brother. It gets him all riled up to have me taunt him during a battle. "Look at your elbow stick out. You have no wings, are you trying to fly?" Thelios growls at me but doesn't break his concentration on his opponent.

"You are still hitting him like a female," I say. "Perhaps when Poppy comes home we can have her give you some pointers?"

The Beast is focused on my brother, unfortunately. Others have been confused by the taunts. Still more foolish warriors tried to use Poppy as their own taunt. They believe that she is our female. We are careful to keep Mara's name from our lips.

The one male who claimed he would fuck our poppet got a sword through the throat down to his anus. Thelios takes his duties as a father very seriously.

"Come on, baby brother," I call out, still circling the battling duo. "You look so slow today. Did you have your morning shit?"

The Beast tosses away his weapons and shifts into his wolven. Scary fucker, but not the most frightening thing we've faced down. A foolish mistake, actually. In this form he becomes more instinctual, less capable of reason. We are the stronger warriors, but he had experience on his side. He gave up his advantage by giving into his beast.

Ha, Beast, what a terrible name for a shifter.

Thelios, grinning with glee that makes me worried slightly for him, begins to hit him with the sharp edge of his shield. It doesn't cause any visible wounds, but the steady thunk, thunk of metal on flesh and bone is done with bruising force. Every time the wolven lunges, teeth snapping, toward my brother, Thelios dodges and the shield hits. I make sure to note that the Beast's left side is being hit more often. He'll be favoring that side.

The bells ring signaling the end of the first match.

Both of the males break off and retreat across the Arena floor.

"How do you feel?" I mutter to Thelios.

He snorts, taking a drink. "Seriously? My morning shit? I nearly lost it, Thane."

I grin. "It was good. I think I saw the Beast falter a little when I said it."

"He's good," Thelios admits. "We're much faster, but he's a battler, lots of endurance and power."

"We'll wear him down," I say confidently. This would be unfair, but Thelios and I have been fighting constantly since we set foot in this place and the Beast has not had one match since we came to the Arena.

"Game!" the ringmaster calls out.

I saunter out with leisure. Thelios is the Champion of the souls, while I am the one they love to hate. Fine by me, so I play up the arrogance. It's not difficult. I'm used to it, aren't I?

He charges and I smirk, letting the crowd see me, making certain they see me. At least half hiss their disapproval, but their eyes are fixed on me, wanting to watch me fail and secretly hoping that I don't.

The first swing from his sword I block. He and Thelios are armed with broad swords and shields, but I have two sickle swords. They are an elitist weapon. A purposeful choice. He swings his shield at me and I take the blow on my arm, hooking one sword under and cutting low, forcing him to stumble over the weight of his shield as he blocks my strike with his own sword. It is only the first few moves of the fight and already he is off-balance.

Thelios exhausted him. This close to the male I can hear his heart beating too quickly His intakes of air sounding thready and too rapid. Broken ribs? He is enduring as Thelios said, but growing tired rapidly as we fight. I start to hammer him, blow after blow from both swords that he must block, risking his muscles fatiguing before he can win this game. I can see defeat in his eyes. He knows he can't best us both.

I keep going as his breathing grows ragged. The cheers of the crowd fade away. It's just swordplay now, this male becoming a practice dummy. Point, slice, point, slice, the blades twisting and turning in their violent dance as we fight on and on.

When the Beast falls to his knees I curse audibly. The crowd goes wild, booing and cheering as my brother jogs out to join me on the field with a broad grin stretching across his face and his own sword sheathed. He must have known that I was winning this round.

"You win another, brother. Are we tied, now?"

"I am winning by two," I brag. I'm not. He's up by one, actually, but I love watching the consternation rush across his face as he tries to remember the tally.

"Fuck," he mumbles.

"Our new Arena Champions," Nateos announces, "Thane, Captain of the Basru, and Thelios, Captain of the Recondites. Princes of the Underworld."

It's the 'Princes' announcement that makes the souls onlooking the sand of the Arena go absolutely insane.

I laugh, slapping Thelios on the back. When he moves suddenly, flowing past me with deadly intent, I loosen my grip on the sickle sword closest to him. He takes the blade and slices it through the Beast with precision, hitting the weak joint at the shoulder.

The crowd becomes silent. The Beast attacked after losing, after the game was called by the god himself while my back was turned. Too bad for him he didn't realize that one of us is always watching our opponent. We have four eyes, not two.

A heartbeat later Nateos is there, his extreme outrage can only be seen deep in his eyes. "You should have questioned my nephew further, Nefilum. These males are the Fated to my own daughter."

The Beast goes pale, but he doesn't go down without a fight. Surging to his feet, I hear the Lady Kalla cry out in fright as the warrior swings his sword at the god's neck.

Nateos counters with a block from his own weapon. Staring into the black blade as it swings, I feel the pull of souls, of eternity, of the cosmos themselves, in that sharp tool of death.

The Beast's head rolls in the sand, separated from his body with one fell swoop of the death god's scythe.

"Teos!" The Lady Kalla comes rushing onto the field, her eyes fixed on her lover. He turns and wraps an arm comfortingly around her, murmuring into her hair.

When those pretty blue eyes swing to me I feel my balls shrivel. One look from this sweet Acera soul and I'm ready to give up my weapons and beg for mercy.

This is my beautiful princess's mother. She knows me as Thane, Lord of the First House. She knows me as the betrayer of her daughter. She knows me as a murderer of innocence and purity.

She doesn't greet me, but turns to Nateos with a remarkably cooler expression on her face. "I am going back to the palace. You are alright, my love?"

"I am, my Queen," he says quietly. His dark eyes watch his lady leave with a longing that makes me wonder if he's going to beat me with the scythe as soon as she leaves. It's not good to upset the Queen of Death's heart.

Nateos clears his throat, remembering where he is and the fact that his kingdom is watching. "You will both come to Irkalla. You have a set of rooms there. As Champions of the Arena, you are entitled to live at the palace."

"Lord Nateos, what about-"

"Not here, Thelios," he says under his breath.

"Come, Captain and Captain. We shall clean you up for the palace, yes? Yes, yes, yes," the ringmaster ushers us from the Arena sand.

---

Such an odd noise. I hear my father whispering to wake up. I ignore him, at first, because of that strange noise. Sort of a growling wail. It sounds like an angry cat.

A cat! My eyes spring open. I see Belen-cat, asleep, or pretending to be, with Alnue, Mushu, and Mishu curled up next to him. Harku is with me, and Momo... Momo is on top of Taffy-cat. She's the one making the strange noise. It is definitely a growl of unhappiness, but she isn't moving and neither is Momo.

"Welcome to having gargoyles, Taffy-cat." Her ears twitch, but she still doesn't move and doesn't stop making noise, either.

I force myself to my feet, swaying with dizziness as I stand. I'm hungry and so very weak. Closing my eyes, I gather my strength. Reaching out, I sense that my assassins are near. Just south of the city, actually, near War.

Does that mean that they are nearly finished sealing off the city? I truly hope so, because an easy escape will destroy my plans of ending Inanji's stranglehold on the souls of the above.

Enlil enters the mausoleum on typically silent feet, treading over the stone without even seeming to move the dust on the floor. Maybe he is floating. Can we all float? Well, I can't float. I have no wings and grief weighs me down like a horse on my shoulders.

I giggle softly at my own joke.

"Enlil, you are fat," I tell him solemnly. I feel the slightest bit tipsy. Strange, I never drank anything. At the thought of drinking, my sharp little canines start to ache.

My goodness, I'm hungry. And it's affecting my mind.

Enlil isn't offended by my insult. He just tosses me a bashful smile and removes his outer vest, revealing animal bladders filled with liquid underneath his clothing.

"You are so very clever, Enlil," I praise him, swaying in place.

"Thank you, my Lady," he says, emptying the bladders into the cairn. When they are empty he gives me a worried glance. I smile with what I hope is reassurance. "I'll return. One more trip and I should have enough to fill the cairn, alright?"

"That's wonderful, Enlil," I murmur. "Have you seen Rasted and Gired?"

"Who, My Lady?" he asks.

"My assassins," I breathe out as nausea and dizziness swamp me again.

Get in the cairn Mara

"It's not ready," I protest my father's command.

"My Lady?"

"My father wants me to get in the cairn," I explain. Enlil gives me a look of horror. "It helps me heal, the water. Helps me heal and the grief... it's so heavy."

"Get in, My Lady. I... I don't need another trip if you get inside. I didn't realize you were going to do that."

"Oh, so it's finished?" I murmur.

I feel Enlil take my elbow. "Let me help you, My Lady."

"Thank you, Enlil." I climb inside. Well, perhaps Enlil just lifts me inside, I'm not sure what. I see the faces of my gargoyles swimming in front of my eyes as I descend through the water.

I needed this.

The weight of grief lessens, the shadow dissipating slowly into the acids that surround me.

I don't hear the attack. I just feel it. Enlil.

Pain scorches me. My Recondite is dead. The connection between us is cut off by the harsh scythe of death.

Close your eyes daughter

Daughter close your eyes

Mara

I don't listen to my father. I want to see. I can't move, I'm too weak, but I can see through my eyelashes as Lier's face appears. He looks grimly satisfied.

Then, the lid of Belen's sarcophagus slides shut. I am left in darkness.

I close my eyes.