When I heard the familiar hum of engines from the driveway, I shoved my own Memory Tome inside my sling bag and hurried to my window. I had spent the last few hours recording my first entry on it, beginning from the day we moved to Ashland, up to this moment.

The Land Cruiser's driver's seat window rolled down and from the second floor, I could see Archie. After a quick unsuccessful attempt to flatten my damp hair in front of the mirror, I shrugged my jacket on and snatched the duffel bag sitting at the side of my door. I didn't really need lots of clothes to carry with me where I was going, but I would like Dad to believe that I was overenthusiastic about my first trip to Paris.

"I haven't seen Vincent for a while now," Dad said to Archie as they came in.

Archie's pitch black eyes furtively trailed on me as he replied, "He's been a little busy lately, Marcel. This trip is his idea after all, so I let him arrange everything for us."

"Impressive. Responsible for his age." Dad let out a soft chuckle. "I was starting to think he's having a hard time with my Aramis."

You have no idea. I thought bitterly, purposively clearing my throat as I reached the foot of the stairs to make them aware of my presence.

"I'm going," I said to Dad, reluctantly giving him a hug. When we let go of each other, I plastered a big smile on my face and said, "There's food in the fridge. Just reheat them in the microwave. And Dad, please remember to throw the leftovers away before they start to smell. Read the expiration on the can before you eat anything. Don't put your colored shirts in the washer with the whites. Hang—"

"You sound like you're not coming back," Dad laughed, knotting his brows a bit before pushing my bangs from my eyes. "I'll be fine. You take care, okay? Or else, your mom's probably going rise up from her grave to nag at me."

Morbid, but it actually made me smile. "I'd like to see that," I replied, heading for the door without any promise to call him.

Before getting in the Cruiser, I took a last look at Mom's old house—the Christmas wreath on the door, the twinkling lights Dad thoughtfully set-up—and at Marcel Rayne, taking him in and burning that moment in my memory. He was smiling as I waved at him, oblivious that it might be the last time he would see his only daughter.

Snow started to fall as we reached the road, decorations along the neighborhood screaming Christmas. Archie didn't try to make small talk and that was one thing I liked about him. Once we reached the mansion, the double doors opened, spewing Mei and Amyr who immediately helped me with my luggage. They towed me into the living room, their eyes sweeping on our surroundings as they did. Inside, Rosario waited for us, sitting cross-legged on the couch.

"I thought you'd be dead by now," she muttered nonchalantly eyeing at me. "I'm a little bit disappointed."

"So am I," I chided. "Want to do the honors?"

"What honor? Killing you?" Rosario leered, leaning on the arms of the couch as she rose ever so carefully. Her face twitched a bit as if in pain but she expertly hid it with a vicious smile. "Don't flatter yourself, Aramis."

"No one's killing anybody." Vincent emerged from the stairwell, glowering at the window.

Behind him came Vladimir, suited in gray and white Nysmic, his usually unruly wavy dark hair combed and plastered on the back of his head. A crimson band with elaborate golden embroidery of Roman numeral twelve was secured snugly around his left upper arm. The boy was flanked by Byron Flynn in a golden collar that chinked as he padded down the steps.

"Everyone get ready. We leave before nightfall," Vladimir ordered, setting all the familiars in motion. Only Vincent didn't move a muscle. I tried to catch his eyes but he kept staring through the window as if he was seeing something there that we couldn't.

Before I could make out what was happening, Mei had already towed me to her dressing room and was forcing me down to stay still as she did my hair. At first, she applied large amounts of setting lotion to keep it from sticking in all directions. I could only feel sorry for her. It was hopeless. Patiently, she put it on rollers, following the natural waves instead of trying to straighten it. While waiting for my rebellious hair to set, she applied makeup on my face, which felt weird. My eyes were so heavy with the stuff I was afraid my lashes would fall off.

"You will dazzle everyone in the ball," Mei said behind me as she started to pin locks of hair over my head. "All you have to do is act like you own the night."

"The Memory Tome," I answered quietly, inadvertently glancing at the canvas sling bag on top of the drawers. "I'll leave it to you. You know what to do with it."

On my last birthday, she made a promise to make sure Vincent would read it once I was gone. I was holding on to that promise. I wanted Vincent to know that I never blamed him. That this wasn't like what happened to Adrianna. It wasn't his fault. I wanted him to always remember my existence as a good memory. I wanted him to laugh about that. Someday.

Letting out a sigh, Mei nodded and dragged me behind the curtains to change my clothes.

"I am not losing hope, Aramis," she said as she helped me into the black gown of her own design. "We will all make it home safe. We will not stand and watch you be taken away from us without a fight. Especially Master Vincent. He cares for you more than anyone in the world."

I wished I could believe her words. It was so Mei. Oftentimes, I wondered how she was able to look at situations, things and people positively even when all seemed bleak. It was like she had her own way of seeing the world.

Finally, she led me to a mirror and left me alone to do her own preparations. It took me a few seconds to register who I was looking at. My hair was put up in intricate weaves and folds on the side of my head, a few curly locks falling down my neck and on the front of my ears.

The gown was stunning in itself, with flowery see-through lace covering my neck as well as both my arms, down to my wrists. Folds of delicate satin-like fabric were wrapped around my chest, flowing in diagonal waves to the floor. I managed to keep my low-heeled draughting boots, not without a long argument with Mei. In the end, she left them alone since they wouldn't be visible under the elaborate skirt of the gown.

What amazed me more was the pair of eyes looking back at me from the mirror. There was a fierce look to them brought about by the dark makeup, making my irises assume a pale grayish glint. Just looking at myself, I felt more powerful. Somehow invincible. Like it wouldn't matter what could happen in Pilgrim Reaper's realm. I didn't need to win. Just putting up a good fight and standing proud would be enough.

When Mei returned, she was already wearing a long lilac Chinese gown with loose sleeves that reached down her ankles. Just below the black sash tapering her waist, her chiffon skirt flowed like a wedding gown, trailing on the floor as she crossed the room. Her long raven hair was adorned with crystals pins shaped like peach blossoms and braided down to her left shoulder.

"Thank you," I whispered to Mei, taking her hand.

With a faint smile on her red lips, Mei picked up the small black box sitting on the dresser. I recognized it immediately as the present delivered by Irvine—a token from Death. She opened it to reveal a crimson gem sculpted into the shape of a rose. Every petal, every detail, how magnificent it may be reminded me of blood, of the smell of the Master Scythe, of loss.

Mei got on her toes and pinned the rose crystal on the side of my head. "Give them your worst," she said as we both stared at our own reflections.

"They wouldn't know what hit them," I replied bravely, steeling my resolve.

As we headed to the drawing room, I kept fumbling for the hidden pocket where I tucked in Mom's diamond pendant. Somehow, knowing it was there calmed me down a little.

Amyr was the first one who saw us coming as he straightened the coat of his off-white tuxedo. His black hair was a bit longer now than I remembered, combed sideways, perhaps to hide the long scar across his left eye. The big crooked grin on his face slowly disappeared as his lips parted slightly like he was about to say something but changed his mind.

Smothering a smile, I nudged Mei on the side. "Oh, he's a goner, that one. I bet he's going to ask you on a date. Again," I said in an undertone.

Mei threw me a scowl. "Put a skirt on a tree and he will ask it for a date, Aramis. Besides, I think I am not the one who has caught his eye," she replied with a meaningful look toward me.

My forehead creased involuntarily. Out of impulse, I looked behind me and saw Rosario in a pale blue gown draped over her bare sun-kissed shoulders, secured only by crystal embedded pins with delicate silver chains hugging her curves. All in all, it was as if some Greek Goddess assumed a human form to lure all men to their demise. Surely, Amyr should be salivating by now. I sniggered at the thought.

Vincent was already in his finest black tuxedo when he I saw him marching down the stairs, a slight furrow over his brow while looking at his wrist watch. I thought black was taboo.

"Hurry up, people. I don't want to be late for my death sentence so—" He halted as he glanced up at our direction as if he just forgot what he was saying.

I had to clench my hands to keep them from fumbling with my clothes, my hair, my face. When people stare, I kept having the feeling that there was something wrong with me so I just dropped my gaze and stepped aside so everyone could get a better view of Rosario.

"Let's..." Vincent started to mumble as he looked around. "Let's go."

Seemingly distracted, Vincent led us deeper into the mansion's maze-like hallways where the Spirit Doors were situated. As he did, Archie distributed our respective crimson arm bands, instructing us to pin it properly. Goody two-shoes.

It startled me a bit when Vladimir brushed past me, giving me a wink and two thumbs up. "Remember," he said smiling. "Slight smile, eyes down, chin up, sure strides."

"Please. You said that like a hundred times," I chided, rolling my eyes at him.

"A hundred and nineteen," he corrected, sneering.

After passing by several doors with numbers one through eleven carved on them, we arrived in a dead end. The Masters pushed us aside, stepping closer to the stone wall. Simultaneously, they pulled down two bronze candle holders upholstered on the opposite corners. The sound of creaking metal and grinding concrete echoed throughout the hallway as a part of the wall slowly slid aside, revealing a secret entryway. From my spot I could see nothing inside.

Without being told, Amyr and Rosario went in first, elbowing each other as they did. Mei and Vladimir came after, flanked by Archie and Byron Flynn. As I started to step into the door, I heard Vincent let out a heavy sigh.

"Chickening out?" I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at him. "I postponed my death for this."

"You wish," he retorted, the corners of his lips pulling up lopsidedly as he snatched my hand and dragged me to the door with him.

Then, in the darkness, we fell freely for minutes. I screamed for the first ten seconds, but then my breath ran out and the fall didn't seem so scary anymore. The moment I opened my eyes, a starless midnight blue sky revolved around me. Staggering, I bumped face first onto something hard. Once the black spots in my eyes were gone, I found myself leaning on Vincent's back.

"Welcome to the Halo," announced Vladimir melodramatically with his arms widespread. "Okay, now that we're over the introductions, let's move."

It was very dark at first that I couldn't see anything more than two yards away from me. But once my eyes had adapted, I was left gawking at my surroundings.

Lining the red and gold mosaic stone path were huge willow trees stretching about fifty feet up. Only these willow trees had red-orange leaves and blossoms. Thousands of deep red thread-like tendrils hang from the twisted branches, as if curtains swaying gracefully with the light breeze. To my right, deeper into the woods was a sparkling spring draining to a larger body of water somewhere near.

Wispy translucent figures flitted around the crystal clear body of water, like mist, ever changing as they moved. One of the creatures pushed the curtain of willow tendrils aside and peered at us curiously. It had the face of a girl with long blue billowing hair as though a strong wind was constantly blowing on it. The creature hovered back to its companions and together, they dived into the spring without so much as a splash.

"Ethereals," Mei said as she paused to wait for me. "They are a new type of Strays with attributes similar to Swarths and Elementals. Generally, they are not hostile but do not interact with them. The Halo is a mind-boggling labyrinth. The spirits here can muddle the ability to think and can lure one into the woods. Once that happens, one might not be able to come back."

"Where are we exactly?" I asked as we walked along the pathway.

The mosaic designs on the ground were mostly of a man in a dark cloak wooing a beautiful red-headed girl, like a picture book trying to convey a story. On branches of the trees, tiny glittering yellow lights started to appear one by one until the whole path was illuminated, giving the illusion that the red leaves were on fire. It was just then that I noticed the red rose bushes in full bloom under the willows, giving off an almost unnatural glow.

"The Halo," Mei answered without much enthusiasm. "... is a small artificial realm between earth and Nirvana created by Master Pilgrim himself in honor of Mistress Roselle Vitoria Sinclair—the Masters' late mother."

"In short," Amyr butted in. "It's his secret evil lair."

Mei silenced him with a dangerous look. "It opens only when there are assemblies, meetings or celebrations, such as the one we are having tonight. One cannot get out unless the Master Reaper wishes so."

"Great," I muttered in an undertone. "So we're stuck."

"Pretty much," answered Amyr with that I-don't-care smile on his face. "I say we enjoy this party and worry later. Look." He pointed a finger ahead.

Where the willow trees started to thin out, a round crystal lake spread like a gigantic mirror, reflecting the color of the dark seamless sky. The stone path led straight over the lake, serving as a bridge toward a small island in the middle, holding an enormous medieval castle. The castle was made of huge black slabs of polished stone, five towers surrounding the tallest one in the middle as though giant sentinels keeping watch over the whole of the labyrinth. Incandescent light radiated from the giant insignias carved on top of the spires—a book, a chain and a sickle.

As we walked along the bridge, the tiny glinting lights floated up from the tree tops and followed us, flitting slowly up and down like snowflakes on fire. With a closer look, I realized they were fireflies. Hundreds and thousands of them lighting the way for us, mirrored by the lake, like a canvas being painted a picturesque pitch black sky dotted with falling stars circling the castle, rising very slowly until they reached the top. Like a halo. Now the name made sense.

Upon approaching the island, I stopped as I saw Vincent look up at the sky. It almost appeared like I could see the reflection of the fireflies dancing in his unnaturally pale eyes. Just standing there, I felt as though I was looking at some fantasy painting by Van Gogh.

"I can't remember the last time I was here," he said wistfully.

I just realized that I was gaping. "Way better than Disney World."

Seemingly surprised, he looked at me for ten seconds or so as if trying to decide whether I was presentable enough to pass his high standards or not. That look made my chest tighten. I automatically stared at the lake—still, glassy, tranquil. Somehow soothing.

"Beautiful, huh?" I commented.

"Yes. Very," he replied, still gazing at me. "C'mon. They're waiting for us."

Taking a deep breath, I followed the others, every step bringing me closer to Death.