"Ahhhhhh!" Thelios roars, the sound reverberating across the grey plains of the Lost. More souls are pouring over the hills of the Lost towards the Eastern Gate, their bodies twisted, their mouths held in twisted grimaces of pain. Other souls, greyed and withered as if left forgotten on a shelf for too long, fight side-by-side with the Basru and War.

The ghosts stay far from War, though. They are leery of the brutal carnage my brother and I are delivering. Souls can't die here, so we are forced to rip them limb from limb to keep the attackers down.

Adding fuel to this fire of War burning in our guts is the fear for Our Heart.

Because where the fuck is she?!

And, most importantly, is she in the midst of these bloodthirsty, vicious souls?

I can feel the bond thrumming, the faint pulse of my Princess. She is feeling... heavy... in pain. But I don't understand this pain. Even the War in me is confused, ancient fuck that he is.

My sweet Mara is always doing something impossible, performing some miracle or magic, but this is a new sensation.

It's odd enough that part of me dismisses it. If she were truly in trouble Thelios and I would know.

I still need to know where she is, however. The instinct to take her to the forests in the north is battling with knowledge that Our Heart is a goddess, as capable as any warrior of making her own decisions.

Except in our bed. There, we are her masters.

A full-body shudder rakes through me and suddenly it's a little more uncomfortable to move. A deranged attacker flies at me, spittle foaming on his lips. I stab him right through his throat, up into his jaw, into his brain and out of the back of his head. My other hand plunges into his guts and my claws rip his intestines free. His eyes widen in pure shock and pain, while I think about my Princess.

Dark eyes on me, legs splayed open, a treasure of dips of curves, soft flesh and sweetly-scented skin. And gods, that hair. I could wrap myself in it. I adore every bit of her, but I have to admit that I love her mouth the most. Shit, maybe her tits? No, her mouth. Gods, the things she says and does...

"What the fuck are you thinking about?" Thelios asks me, while shaking a soul off of his claws. "You have an idiotic grin on your face."

"Our Heart's lips. I think that is my favorite part of her. Her mouth," I tell him, grinning.

"Her mouth? That's your favorite part of our female?" he snickers at me.

"Yes," I get defensive as I pick up one attacker and use his head as a battering ram to send another flying. The battering ram then loses his spine to my claws. "Why, what do you like the best?"

"Her ass," comes the prompt reply. "Gods, that sweet ass. Fuck," he says, smiling.

I look at him and scoff, "tell me I didn't look that idiotic."

Thelios' smile falls as he glares at me, sending his knee into his next victim's chest over and over until the ribcage breaks apart and blood and bone spills.

"You did," Belen confirms as he darts past us.

We both glare at the laughing Basru Commander. I turn back to Thelios, "you can't pick something sexual about Our Heart to like the best."

He frowns. "You named a feature, so I did. Her ass isn't why I adore her. You named her lips, for fuck's sake." He punches an attacker in the head hard enough to shake loose several teeth and send him flying backwards.

"Because they're sexy and sassy," I counter.

Thelios gives me the side eye. "Hypocrite. You named her mouth thinking of how you enjoy quieting the sass."

"Fuck, brother," I snap, adjusting myself before snapping the neck of a soul.

Thelios' starts to laugh. I would join him, but as I look over our battlefield I notice that the attackers are thinning out. We have seriously wounded so many of them that they can't recover quickly enough to keep their attack going.

"Why are they attacking us, anyway, while those other souls don't?" I ask out loud.

"Those, young male, are the worst offenders of the gods' rule. Souls who have allowed greed and selfishness to corrupt them. These souls have committed terrible crimes. Terrible."

We all turn to see a black cat morph into a god. "Fuck," I swear under my breath. Mardu is here.

"Why are they here and not imprisoned?" Holsten asks. "Father god," he adds hastily.

"Because," Mardu coughs a little. "We have no prison. This is the Underworld; my brother wishes all souls to be free."

"They are not free, regardless of what Death wishes," I say bluntly.

Mardu eyes me, blatantly examining me as if looking for flaws and weaknesses. He will find none. "Nateos is not omnipotent, young War."

"My name is Thane."

Mardu chuckles. "You have let my niece name you?" He laughs again, shaking his head. "You can't deny the little one has appeal. Careful that you don't allow a female to collar and leash you, eh?"

Both Thelios and I straighten our spines. Thelios looks ready to spit fire at the father god. "She is ours," I rush to reassure Thelios and warn Mardu. "As we are hers. Does it make you uncomfortable, to think of War and Grief together?"

"It makes me uncomfortable that my brother sent you fools here, to draw the Forgotten souls to you instead of my niece. You are bait and in coming here, you left Love alone."

Both Thelios and I curse loudly. We forgot that Lier and the little broken female, Poppy's mother, Napthia, are newly forged with Inanji.

"Now, I suggest you handle these," Mardu waves his hand towards the Forgotten attackers, "creatures, quickly. Lock them away." He turns and walks away, vanishing without another word.

"It's not a bad idea," Grey states quietly. "Is there a place to imprison them?"

"The Pits?" Carnak suggests.

"The Pits are on the other side of the city," Holsten says.

"Does the Palace not have a dungeon?" Thelios chimes in.

I look at my brother, "it must."

"Ililie and I will go and find out for sure," Nasir says. "Start herding the souls to one location. We can make them go as far as possible on their own feet before letting them realize that they are heading for their own destruction."

I look over at the Palace of Irkalla, the Crone River winding underneath. It comes back out, able to be seen from our suite in the mausoleum, then it goes back under the northernmost tower and disappears.

I go still, allowing Thelios to tear into the remaining attackers while I think. I don't know why I never thought of it before. The River can't just vanish, so where does it go? The power of the sacred water, the mighty river, can't just stop.

It must flow underground. And if the river flows underground, then there must be caves.

"That way!" I tell Nasir. "To the northernmost tower!"

It's harder to herd the souls than it is to just break them. Many of them are so wounded now that we may need to drag them there.

It takes nearly a day to reach the place in the Underworld where the Fields of the Lost meet the cliffs of the Pits. The convergence of these two features in the land around us are marked by the northernmost tower of the Palace of Irkalla. I don't think I've ever seen anyone coming from or going to this place.

The tower has the appearance of coming from the landscape itself. Unlike the rest of the Palace it's the same muted grey stone of the cliffs and the ash on the ground. It's rough-hewn stone walls match the cragginess of the rocks it is standing on. There are only four windows, and no visible door.

The River flows faster here. One either side are walls, built out of the same grey stone, probably why I never noticed them before. They choke the river, controlling the flow to the tower. I can hear the rushing water, as the river starts to froth and tumble to wherever it goes.

"Brother!" Thelios shouts at me, beckoning.

I abandon the souls I'm cornering and jog over.

There is a door. Above the water the stone arches from wall to wall. Written above the archway in the language of the gods, it says;

Here is Eruk

Enter to Hell

You Forgotten Souls

Thrice you Choose

To be Eternally Damned

"Well, shit, that's unfortunate for these fucks," Thelios murmurs.

I feel uneasy, too. "Does Mardu not know about this place? Death himself doesn't seem to use this method of disposal of souls."

"In the above, my daughter watched as Inanji's army threw the bodies of the innocent Acera into the river to drown," a low voice speaks, weighed down from thousands of years of decisions. "She will never forget that sight, the sounds, the feeling of souls dying."

I look at Thelios. He is frustrated, shaking his head. My soul aches for Our Heart. She had neither of us then.

"Your brother has already seen us, today, Nateos," I tell the dark god.

He nods. "Yes, my brother thinks that this is the solution," he waves his hand at the river. "But do you? He tells you not to allow my daughter to collar and leash you, but does he think that you are his to control?"

"Would you throw them in there? What's down there?" I ask him.

The dark eyes of Death stare at the river, at the entrance with it's message of eternal damnation.

"It is just a hole. There is no light, nothing exists to break the dark. The river races through and the sound of the water hides the screams of souls who have truly lost everything."

"What does that mean, 'thrice you choose?'" Thelios asks him.

Gravely, Nateos explains, "a soul is to be given three chances. If they prove to be evil in three lives, then they are eternally damned; their soul considered to be irredeemable."

We all look at the entrance while the Basru contain the souls behind us.

"This tower was all that existed here when I came to rule the Underworld. Irkalla, Ersetu, even most of the Pits, I built later."

"So there are souls down there?"

Nateos nods slowly, "yes. Your grandfather, for one. Arim of the First was sent there when you destroyed him."

Oddly enough, my heart doesn't stir in pity or guilt. Maybe later I will examine why, but right now we have attackers that are swarming all over the Basru. These souls are the damned, the Forgotten, the ones who are meant to disappear.

"Then he will have company," I say, turning to face the souls. There are only about a hundred of them. A hundred souls being systematically torn apart by six Basru and two gods. Well, three now, as Nateos joins the battle, his scythe a thing of terror.

The bodies fall and disappear without a splash, without a cry to be heard. The river swallows the souls whole.

It only takes a moment, then silence falls over us all.

---

We don't fly back. We all walk, the burden of our decision heavy on our shoulders. War tumbles and rumbles inside of us, not giving two fucks about the souls we just damned for eternity in a place of no light.

He's an ass, War, but my brother and I have souls who give a shit. This is a burden we will bear for eternity, just as those souls are damned for as long.

"Did you feel an odd pain from Our Heart earlier?" Thelios asks me in a low voice.

"I did," I tell him. "It stopped awhile ago."

"We must find her, soon. I need to hold our female," he admits in a low voice. I nod at him. We would not admit to anyone else how deeply we adore Our Heart, but we both know it's the truth.

"Will she come to the forest with us?" he asks me.

I don't know how to answer. It's been bothering me, the itch between my shoulder blades telling me to hurry and leave the Underworld. There are warriors in the above, wars being fought, decisions that pull and tug on the War in us.

Finally, I shrug. "Not until the babe is born, remember?"

Thelios grins like a fool. "Our baby," he breathes. "Male or female?" he asks me.

I snort. "Male. We already have a daughter."

He nods, "I think the babe is male, too."

Thinking about our baby makes what we've just done more palatable. The hope of something new and beautiful resonates and rattles us all at once.

The Fields of the Lost are empty as we walk back to the Gate. It's open, the yawning black mouth of the Eastern locks thrown wide. An indolent-looking Lier leaning on one of the doors.

Lier looks the same as he did before. Nothing to indicate that he has part of Love in him. Nothing screams 'love god' like a dark-skinned, scarred-up warrior with a hawk tattoo on his bicep and a face that shouts 'don't fuck with me.'

"This is fucking bizzare," he announces. Behind him is the little female, her face so pale that she looks ill. Her hair is hanging in her face, her eyes darting to and fro in a combination of fear and wonder. When she sees us, her eyes widen, and she darts behind Lier.

Patiently, he pulls her back out. "You can't hide, Napthia. You are a goddess, now"

She just quakes and ducks her head until her face almost completely disappears behind her hair. The fear in this female makes all of us males uncomfortable. Hell, we know her pissant Fated well, we spent months beating the shit out of him in the Pits.

"So, how does it feel? Do you feel extra... loved?" Belen asks, blinking his eyes innocently.

"Is it hard to be so loved?" Rolle chimes in.

"Shut the fuck up," Lier growls.

"Aww, it's like you need more love," I mock him.

Lier takes a step toward me, frustration conflicting with reluctant amusement in his eyes. He stops short, just a moment before leaping on me.

"Oh gods," he breathes.

I turn sharply towards the Fields. It's growing dark, night settling on the Underworld. In the dim light the figures in the distance look ghostly, soft lights moving toward us.

They blend with the darkening shadows, all but my female. I will always be able to spot her in a crowd. She is my Heart and I am enthralled.

"Mara," I breathe out her name like a blessing.

She smiles as she comes near. Her eyes meet mine and I'm lost. I hold my position. I let her come to me, as always. Not because I want her to chase me, but because I will give her that choice.

Mara walks slowly, her smile beatific, her poise remarkable. In her arms is a tiny bundle of fury, the baby wailing as squirming as if angry at being contained. My Heart kisses the baby's forehead gently and the babe settles.

I forget to breathe. That's my baby. Our baby, I silently amend when Thelios inhales sharply next to me.

Our baby. Shit. How is that possible? But I know this is our child... that's utterly impossible, yet with every step Our Heart takes my certainty grows.

When she stops just an arms-length from us she finally shows us our little male.

"This is your daughter," Our Heart announces proudly. She extends the bundle towards us.

I can't take it. Her. A daughter. Fuck, she's so small. Poppy isn't this small. Of course, I mean, she's older, but was Strawberry ever this small? Maybe when this baby's older I can hold her.

The baby kicks again, fussing now that she isn't cuddled so closely to her mother.

I let Thelios take her, cradling our newborn daughter to his chest. Gods, the baby looks so tiny in his arms. So breakable. She fits in just the palms of his hands as he unwinds the cloth to inspect the tiny bit of feminine fury.

"She's perfect," Thelios says in a hoarse voice. Tears glint in his eyes, a wide smile stretching across his face.

"Thane," a soft hand cups my cheek. I pull my gaze away from my baby and my brother to look at my Heart. I have to blink to make the blurriness go away.

"Are you happy?" she asks me, concern shining in her dark eyes.

"Yes," I croak out. "She's beautiful. You're beautiful," I murmur softly.

Mara smiles and edges closer to me, our bodies touching. I must stink of battle, of blood and death, but she places her other palm over my heart, anyway. "Thane," she says quietly, "I love you."

"I love you, too," I reply without thinking. It slowly sinks in. "You do?" I ask her, dumbfounded by her avowal of love as much as I am her using the word, itself.

"Yes, for a while now," she admits with a sheepish grin.

I laugh, stunned. "You do?" I repeat myself like an idiot.

Her smile grows. "Yes. I love you. My male, my Fated, my... what did War call my Thane? A silver-tongued male? My silver-tongued War, I love you."

"What about me?" Thelios asks, absentmindedly, still engrossed in cooing to our daughter.

"Don't be selfish, Thelios," I mutter to him. Then I grab my Heart flush to me and take her mouth. Her sweet, gorgeous, sexy pink mouth.