A pair of silvery orbs meet my dark ones. It is like the  serene moon in the darkened sky, where a promise of death and chaos lies. It is a mirror that is so familiar, yet felt so foreign as it was owned by a different man.

Pilgrim Reaper stood in front of me with a lovely smile resting on his face. He is handsome, like his sons. Each La Noir boys, or should I say men as I am pretty sure that they all age more than hundred of years, has their own charms. Each possesses awestrucking beauty that is so frightening yet comforting at the same time. Like them, Pilgrim Reaper has the looks of a Greek God that no matter how my mind protests to move my head away from his gaze, I find myself frozen and staring at him with my mouth agape. 

When I first heard the name 'Pilgrim Reaper', I imagined that I was facing a monstrous creature. A walking corpse with a body of bones, hollow eyes, and scent of decay following him like a perfume, but I was wrong. Instead I am facing an angel—an Angel of Death.

“And you must be Naeun." His voice is melodic despite how deep it is. "Son Naeun, a young lady who tragically died in a fire in an art museum a few months ago, suffocated. You were there for your art's showcase, weren't you? A painting about death, and death… death claimed you. How unfortunate, though not entirely. My son here gave you another chance to walk the Earth again by taking you as his familiar." The Pilgrim Reaper paused and offered me a crooked smile before adding, "Unfortunate but not entirely luckless."

I shiver at the fact that he knew exactly how I died. But he is the head of the reapers. Of course, he knew how each soul they harvested died. 

"Father." Taemin said so low that his voice almost came out like a hiss. I could feel his grip tightening securely around my wrist as his jaw clenches. "Loquacious as ever, are you not?" 

Pilgrim's eyes darted from my face to his son. It might only be my imagination but it seems like the temperature has dropped. The cool breeze turned chilly, raising goosebumps on my exposed skin. "My, my, Francesco. I'm merely greeting your familiar. Is being chatty now a crime? I always forget you have such a bad temper, my dear son. Like father, like son, afterall." 

"I am nothing like you, father." He snapped which, in turn, widening his father's grin. It is so wide that I could already see past beyond his bicuspids. His pretty smile creeps me out. 

"Are you not?" He mocked. "Your late mother would always tell me that you took up much after me. Not only by character, but also by physical details."

Only when the Pilgrim Reaper said that I realized the striking similarities in their features. It was not only their eyes that are similar but almost all of their features are; their built, their stature, but my master is a few inches short of his father. The eerie familiarity that I felt was caused by this; how foolish I am not to notice. 

I inclined my head in Taemin's direction and witnessed how his mouth turned into snarl. "You do love hearing yourself talk, father, don't you?" 

"To be honest, I do." The Pilgrim Reaper laughed. "And son, in case you didn't notice, Mephistopheles has announced you… thrice. You might want to go on with your parade. I will join you in a few minutes and we can continue our touching gettogether if you want."

Taemin was taken aback when his father told him that he had been called three times already. Without wasting any more time, he shuffled and took long strides on the center aisle with me on his heels. I dared to look back to where the Pilgrim Reaper still stood and from a distance, I could see how his dark pupils dilated as he stared at his son—no—at me. He was staring at me so intently that I could feel chills spreading from my nape down to my spine. He knew me, he knew my face, and I reminded him of someone who was part of their past. Does he know that I am a direct descendant of that certain someone? I really hope he does not.

I suppressed a shiver and focused on my steps instead. “May I ask who this Mephistopheles guy is?”

Hearing my voice, Taemin slowed down his pace, taking the odd chills that I felt earlier with his reducing speed. “He is the one announcing us. Mephisto is a demon but no one really knows what type of demon he is. Some say he is a high ranking one, others say he is one of the seven demon lords. But for me, I don’t care whether he is the former or the latter. A demon is a demon, meaning they are wicked as we all imagine them to be.” A smug smile tugged on his lips and he added nonchalantly, “And if I were you, I will be as close as I can to my master to avoid trouble. I might wrap my arms around him if I were more cautious.”

My nose flared at his remark. I could have punched his handsome face if we were not parading for this so-called reaper homecoming. Damn Francesco Chevalier and his heartstopping smile! 

I resorted to pinching his inner arm lightly and said, “Familiars are bound to protect their masters and not the other way around, my dear master. If the demon poses a threat as you say, I will protect your lame from it. Even if it might cost my borrowed life.”

My last words wiped the cocky smile on his face. Taemin might have not liked what I’ve said because for the rest of the steps and as we took our seats, he remained silent. Jaehyun, his youngest sibling, greeted him but he did not even spare him a glance. It is as if my words dissected him out of the gathering and placed him in his own little world.

“By the gates, his favorite hobby is to scowl.” Jaehyun muttered under his breath. “He is lucky we are not aging because if we do, his face would have looked like a blobfish!”

“And how do you know what a blobfish looks like?” Another sibling reaper which, according to my master uses a korean name Taeyong, asked the youngest while sipping on his glass of wine. “Does blobfish even exist?”

Jaehyun threw his older brother a pointed look. “The encyclopedia and of course it exists! Go try visiting the library to fill up your empty brain, brother. Your immortality is useless if you have a coconut husk for a brain!”

The statement of the youngest reaper earned pits of laughter from our table and our neighbors, and it made Taeyong to reddenned out of anger or humiliation, or it can be both. Perhaps afraid to worsen his situation, Taeyong opted to remain silent and only threw his brother a deadly glare. On the other hand, Kai seems to be enjoying this little show as he snorted and said, “I guess he is nothing but pageantry. He is handsome and mighty, but his head is light and empty!”

I know it was only a joke but I still flinch at his harshness. But to my surprise, Taeyong doesn’t look like he was affected. He gave his older brother a playful shove instead of giving him the same glare. “The same blood runs in our veins, brother. From our mother and father. If I am stupid, so you are.”

“And so is Francesco. Don’t leave him out!” Kai countered and they both laughed. This time, my master’s head whipped to his brothers. Although there is a deep frown displayed on his face, his silver eyes are soft as he stares at them.  

Without a second thought I muttered, “You’re weird.”

I earned a puzzle look from Taemin and his left brow arched up. “Me? Are you pertaining to me?” He asked as he pointed at himself.

“Yes. You are weird, master.” I nod.

“I am weird, why?” He frowned once more. “And for Pete’s sake, Naeun. Do not call me master because it makes my skin crawl.”

“But I will be a bad familiar if I don’t call you master.” I said with a low voice. “I also know that it is not right to call you weird but it’s just you look peculiar with a frown but your eyes seem calm. They almost look sad, Tae. I prefer seeing you scowling than this. It doesn't suit you. It makes my heart ache to see you this way, you know.”

My master gave me a long look void of emotion, dismissing the subject. 

I gave myself a mental slap as I realized what I just said. It was a huge effort to refrain myself from reddening out of embarrassment. Perhaps I am too carried away from our recent tryst and it is putting our neck at great risk. We are walking on a tightrope. Familiars are supposed to be protectors of their masters, not lovers, and we should not cross that line. 

My throat bobbed, but luckily he started, "They are… my full-blooded brothers. The three of us had the same mother. She was the Pilgrim's most favored consort. When I was still young and mortal, I could see how my father's eyes twinkled whenever they were together as if she was the most beautiful person in the world. I may have been a child back then but I recognized the love that he bore for her." He paused, glancing at his brothers and continued, "He was also different back then. Gentle and happy. He was the father a child would want to have. But, as our mother was a mortal, she died. I watched as he held her close until her last breath. And after that, he became what he is now. Cold, feral, brute—a perfect portrayal of the Reaper of Souls."

"Why did he n