Three Years Later - He clutched the hilt of a lethal tipped dagger. It's poison potent, acidic in touch as he hurried along the tepid grounds. His clothes in tatters, a grimace snarl aligning his lips as he climbed another steep incline along the mountainous tomb. Beside him, a shoulder's distance a man held a crossbow, its rustic metal not to be mistaken as useless. It's man-made mechanism sturdy and evenly as potent as he in a disgruntled breath, stooped to the broken soil before them.

"I think we're getting closer," he mumbled, and a sneering grin from his comrade would meet his remarks as he nudged his arm in passing.

"You said that the first three times we circled this boulder, Cole," he stated, and as his friend's steadied footing stumbled, both mirrored with exhaustion, Andrew sighed. "You would think a centuries old demon would have a handle on things around here," he explained. "I mean, these are your old haunts, am I right?" he questioned, and to further state his discretion, he groaned.

"You could say that," Cole replied, and running a hand over the pepper grayed scruffs along his chin, exhaustion cradled his wearied eyes. "Come on, lets turn around," he said in a breath. "There's still a trench or three we haven't covered, and I know there's a tracer somewhere we haven't tagged."

Tracers were a common occurrence through the winding underpasses that crept along the deep roads. In essence, they were the scum of the Underworld, scavenging and pillaging what others had left behind, whether it be souls or a half eaten carcass. Their cannibalistic nature was inhuman, and their howls an inevitable chill along the spine of even the more threatening of demonic host. Though in their treacherous misdoings, they had a habit most enticing to their companions. "Those little bastards have an ear for gossip," Cole exclaimed, and in truth their gift for hearing was at a radius far beyond that of human means, and in comparison to that of the highest in the realms very seldom could they be bested.

"If we're to have our luck, our share of it will be through them," he continued, and climbing up another steep incline, Cole and Andrew veered their heads up a desolate tomb further on down the path. There was a squalling moan in the distance, a flittering of feet crawling in the shadows, and in a wayward sigh, Andrew groaned.

"I hope the girls are alright."

"I hope the boys are alright," Piper whispered. Knee deep in a puddle of mud and grime. Her arms scraped in little cuts and bruises, a hole marred in her jeans as she crawled along an emptied tunnel burrowed in the ground. Phoebe not far behind her, her hands scuffed in filth, as she nods.

"I think he said something about a tracer in the deep roads," she continued, "and considering we're shoveling knee-deep through something akin to camel dung." She paused, a hand sifting through the mounds of mush beneath her as she groaned. "I'm sure they're having more luck than we are."

Turning her head, a panted breath caught Phoebe's attention. Dark hair matted, sweat and grime covering his brow, the olive toned Cupid trailing behind her offered a smile in spite of his struggle. "You holding up back there, Coop?" she questioned, and his feverish nod in steps to a gasping exhale would answer her as he sighed.

"I think I'll manage," he laughed. His sleeve wiping at his brow as his broad shoulders shimmied through the crumbling passage.

Piper snorted, a foot ahead of them as she sighed. "Pacifists," she muttered, and Phoebe swatted her backside as she carried on further. Behind them, Coop grinned, accepting of the label as he hurried his face.

"Cupids aren't predominantly known for their cunning testosterone I'm afraid," he explained, and crawling to a stand Piper turned to meet them as she stretched her legs. "Though their sense of direction on the other hand," he remarked, a notion of his ring as he winked. "Let our hearts be the guide."

Piper mused for a moment. Her thoughts circling around their one purpose of being; their reason for standing in a foot of filth and malice – at the core of it all, there was a little girl.

Paige.

Not once during their strife had they given up hope. There was not one minute that passed where they had thought once to consider she was truly gone. She was missing, yes, but not a part of her could not be found. That was their ambition, and perhaps the lasting piece of hope they had in putting their lives together.

Their little girl.

she inhaled a sharp stabbing breath. Her hair falling into her eyes as she pursed her lips to clear her vision. "Let's keeping moving."

Author's Note: Taking a step back for now, everyone. It's been a rush getting these chapters up the last couple days, and of course I don't expect it to make up for my absence but there you go. I hope the turn of things has set this story into motion for you all. I'm going to incorporate some old and new characters for a twist and to those wondering where Prue is, well, that's for next time. Take care! I appreciate your feedback, as always, and those who kept an eye out for me during my disappearance, haha.