Chapter Text
There are principles you are taught as a reaper. Most of them are simple. Rule one, never spare a soul. They can grovel at your feet, pleading for their life, telling you all the things they still want to do, but it shouldn't sway you. Rule two is similar, never let your emotions get the better of you on the job. Rule three, do not mingle with immortal beings, they'll only cause you trouble. Rule four was more of a moral endeavor: most reapers should have little value for life. What reapers are taught at a very young age is that mortals take advantage of the time they have on Earth. No matter what circumstances, it's likely a human who has been reaped has done something bad. Humans are imperfect and therefore looked down upon by immortal beings. Death was a dry mentor, but he helped his disciples of the Underworld come to an agreement on one thing.
Humans shouldn't deserve life, and that's what Mori Calliope was taught since she came into existence.
She was a simple girl. The Grim Reaper's apprentice was a hefty title, and she had bore it for as long as she could remember. She hadn't known a life without death, considering in her own right, she was death. The embodiment of fear, the things people last see before taking their final breaths. That was all she was used to. In Calliope's world, she had two beings who would always be with her and care for her, and that was all she needed. She had Death Sensei, and despite how admittedly neglectful he could be, he was the closest thing she had to what mortals would call a parent. She had Kerberos, her good hellhound who would always obey her without question. She didn't need anything else, she thought, anything else would be a distraction.
After all, her whole life… was death.
As a young reaper, though, her view on this changed. Ever so slightly.
Takanashi Kiara. That was the name on her list. Her small hands dismissed the paper, throwing it to the side as it burnt into a dark black soot, falling to the ground. She still hadn't grown into the size of her scythe like Death Sensei had said she would've, but it was her pride and joy. Even if she had to carry it around with both her hands, it was a sacrifice she was okay taking. She still thought she looked very cool. As she shifted her scythe over her shoulder, she quickly made her way out of her room and to where Death Sensei usually occupied. She pushed the door to his chamber open, greeting with a barely audible "hey".
The looming figure turned, spine cracking like a burning fire as he turned around. Ironically, he didn't seem busy doing anything necessarily important, bent over an elongated desk with reading glasses covering part of his eye sockets. Calliope watched as he stood from his seat, a wave of cold air following and puffing out, creeping across the floor like a noxious fog. The figure finally stood in front of the small apprentice reaper, leaning down to get closer to her level. "What brings you here, Mori?" He questioned, voice making the room shift. Being a being of pure death, he carried himself in such a way that would make any mortal's skin crawl, voice deep and booming as his empty, dark sockets stayed locked on target.
Calliope didn't fear him in the slightest, though. "I have a soul to reap." She clarified. She wished she had a voice like Death Sensei's. Hers was meak, small and feminine. She hoped that she would grow into her powerful voice one day, but as it stood, she was just a little girl who occasionally killed people. "Takanashi Kiara. Do you have information about her?" She further inquired.
Death seemed hesitant for a second. His brow bones slightly furrowed (to the best of their ability), before he stood upright once again. He lurched himself over to his long desk, skeletal hands fumbling around as if he was trying to find something. Calliope stepped closer, trying to get a look at what he could've been up to. His fingers brushed up against an old book, lingering on the front cover for a moment before picking it up and examining it closely. It was hard to tell when he was looking at something considering he didn't have pupils. Or eyes. He sharply turned around, his robe whipping around with him as he once again approached Calliope. In his hands, he held a book.
The book had a bright cover, shades of red, orange, and yellow decorated it. At the center of the tapestry of color was a single thing outlined in dark paint, a bird. The colors of the bird blending in with the background, not seeming to have any significant differences. It looked like the lineart was done after the painting of the background was done. Calliope examined it, before gently running her fingers across the cover. It was rough, gently dusted with age, and seemed centuries old. At the notion of Death continuing to hold it out towards her, she slowly took the book into her hand. It was heavy and enormous, especially for a small girl like her. The book was bigger than her head, and she had to set down her scythe by her side to hold it properly, two small hands now clasped around it, holding it for dear life.
"This," the daunting voice came again, "holds the information you seek." Calliope looked up at her mentor, a confused expression painting her face as she tried to read the skeleton's expression. "A… book?" She clarified, trying to squeeze a bit more information about this. Death did not respond, just nodding his head before making his way back over to his desk. He grabbed the chair, scooting it in and hunching back over, continuing his work from before Calliope had entered the room. The young reaper was left standing there, a book in her hands, as her sensei continued his work. She huffed a bit, trying not to let her attitude get her in any trouble as she bowed. "Thank you, Death Sensei." She said, as clearly and politely as she could. It was quite the effort hoisting her heavy scythe up as well as the heavy book. Her hands were full as she exited the chamber.
As she staggered her way out of the door, she let it shut behind her before she collapsed. Her scythe clattered to the ground, a groan escaping her as she sat up on her elbows and knees. She shuffled around to pull the book out, blowing the dust off it as she flipped open the pages one by one.
The book told stories of a mythical bird, an immortal being called a 'phoenix'. Pictures depicted a bird made of fire, a powerful being immune to death itself. Stories were conflicting, however. The general information about a phoenix was there, but the rumors and myths were anything but consistent. Some stories detailed how a phoenix can take on a human form, others describe it as the spirit of life itself. From what Calliope could gather is that there were three consistents in the tale of the phoenix. One: the phoenix is a bird of fire, whether it be a spirit or a physical being. Two: they are impervious to death, they always rebirth after from ash. Three: there would be no reason for a reaper to be involved with a phoenix. That last consistent is what got to her, and it was the very consistent made her want to rip her hair out.
In her mind, there was no reason for Death Sensei to give her this book. If she was to reap a phoenix, what would the point be? Death is a punishment for mortals. Mortals who take for granted their time on Earth. Humans shouldn't deserve life, that's what she had been taught since the beginning of her existence. Not to mention this broke one of the crucial rules obeyed by a reaper, she should not be involving herself in the lives of immortal beings like a phoenix.
Calliope pressed her head against the book. And then she did that a bit harder. And harder. Until she was slamming her head against it. It was incredibly infuriating. Nevertheless, she had a job to do. Maybe she was jumping to conclusions. Maybe this was some weird metaphor Death Sensei was making about the mortal she had to reap. Maybe they were a phoenix enthusiast or something. That's a more reasonable explanation in her head. She struggled to pick the book up once again, laying it outside the door to Death Sensei's chamber. She didn't want to go back inside, knowing she wouldn't be able to wipe the angered look off her face. She grumbled to herself as she went to pick up her scythe, the weapon seeming feather light in her hands compared to the book. She was looking for Takanashi Kiara. That was her job, and she planned to stick to it.
—
It didn't take a lot of asking around to figure out more about this being Calliope was searching for. Both beings in the Underworld and mortal plane had intel about her, which wasn't a promising sign. From what she had gathered, Takanashi Kiara was a girl around the same age as Calliope, at least in human years. They were both considered children by most, preteens, who occasionally visited the same parts of the world. Medieval society at the time proved easy for others to get in contact. From her research, Kiara came from Austria. A bloodtrail had led her through Switzerland, across Italy, and landed her search in Greece. Hunting down souls to reap like this was her least favorite part of the job, but it was a common occurrence. Being a reaper did have its perks, making traveling much easier as well. The only downside about where she ended up is her reluctance to accommodate to Greek culture for her time she was there. The loose-fitted clothes were not made for a child, and she would often trip over chitons she wore.
Days and days of hunting got tiring, and it's not like she had a house to stay in while she was on the prowl. She slept in small trees, low to the ground and easy to crawl up. This made it so she would wake up with the sun, her eyes gently fluttering open as the beams of light encouraged them to. Being in the human realm made her tired, which she hated. In the Underworld, she never needed sleep. She wasn't human, after all. Why would a reaper need sleep? As she groggily sat up, she brought up a hand to rub her eyes. Her blinking was slow as her small hands instinctively reached forward to take hold of her scythe. A yawn escaped her as she propped her back up against the tree, looking off through the trees. She could barely see the face of a mountain behind them, gaze tracing down before landing itself on something between the trees.
Her eyes forced themselves into focus as she moved across the branch, slowly so as to not cause the leaves to rustle too much. As she peered into the clearing in the trees, something bright and orange stuck out to her. A small humanoid figure was sitting in a tree across from Calliope, vibrant locks almost glowing in the dawn of the morning. She thought back to the important descriptors of her target. A young woman, about in her early teens, with shoulder-length orange hair that faded into pale greenish-blue on the tips. She slowly creeped down the tree limb, keeping her movements shallow so as to not rouse too much suspicion to herself. She watched as the creature perched on the branch in front of her turned her head. Calliope cursed herself for not being more careful.
This caused the figure to launch through the branches, Calliope's eyes narrowing in frustration as her position had been given away. This didn't stop her from frantically throwing herself forward to go after her target. Nobody could run from death, and she found it humorous that this creature was even attempting to. She caught herself on branches as she fell closer to the ground, scythe wrapping around them to keep the small reaper from plummeting to the ground. As she fell to the forest floor, she kept a keen eye on the girl as she raced after her. She once again used her scythe to swing through the trees, latching onto whatever it could to propel her forward faster. If she could give this defiant creature anything, it was that she could certainly navigate the winding branches of trees. In spite of this, Calliope did her best to keep up.
This chase led the two out of the forest and to a large cliff, the same one Calliope had seen up in the trees. She observed as the creature's wings sprouted from her back, her eyes narrowing in disgust. Oh, that was just unfair. Reapers had the ability to alter reality as seen fit, but Calliope was just an apprentice at the end of the day. She should be able to fly like that, but she couldn't. So, for the time being, she did her best to dig her scythe into the side of the mountain, thrusting herself upwards as she continued this motion. She drove her weapon into the cliff over and over with great vigor, forcing herself up the side of the cliff. She was now much more aware of her human body, her hands becoming stiff and cramped from the force she was using and the repeated motion. Not to mention how out of breath she was. This sucked. She didn't falter in the slightest despite how much pain this caused her human form.
There was a dent in the cliff face, which the girl disappeared behind. This didn't stop Calliope. Not in the slightest. She continued her motion, scythe digging into the edge of the dent. She struggled to pull herself upwards, her body physically giving out on her as she finally made it to where her target was. Her legs wobbled and felt like jelly as she forced herself to lunge forward once more. She pinned the being to the rock, the dull end of her scythe a hair away from her throat. She panted as she finally stared down her target, her hands shaky and her legs struggling to keep themselves upward. She did her best to seem intimidating despite this, trying to play it off like she was perfectly fine.
As she examined her target, she didn't seem frightened, which was weird. Did she know she was face-to-face with the reaper's apprentice? Calliope found this coy demeanor of hers to be frustrating, so finally as she caught her breath enough to speak, she leaned in closer. "I am Mori Calliope, the Grim Reaper's apprentice and successor. Your life has come to an end." She spoke, her breath still bated as she glared at the being in front of her. The creature cocked her head to the side, her head just barely resting on part of the scythe that was to her throat. She let out a nervous laugh, and it stung Calliope's ears. "Ahh, hello! I am Takanashi Kiara. You are death?" She asked. Her Austrian accent was thick, considering she must've still been adapting to the English dialect, let alone the kind of English that was taught in Greece. Calliope found the question ignorant as she kept her weapon close to the other. "...Yes, in a way," she answered back.
Kiara didn't seem afraid. Quite the contrary, she just seemed happy to have met someone new. This was… odd. Of all the souls that Calliope had reaped, she had never met anyone who reacted like this in the literal face of death. It was confusing. "Ah, exciting! I have never met death before! Does this mean it is my time to go?" Calliope continued to look at the girl with a confused expression, her eyebrows furrowing. "Are you messing with me?" She firmly questioned. This line of questioning also seemed to confuse Kiara, her eyes snapping up and meeting the reaper's. They were vibrant and purple, resembling what Calliope equated to amethyst stones. She let out a small scoff, "No, no, not messing with you. Sorry. I am a phoenix! I am not, um, familiar with this." She quickly clarified. Her hands ran up the length of the scythe's blade, seemingly entranced, like she had never seen anything like it before.
"A phoenix…" Calliope muttered. All her suspicions seemed to be correct. Now this opened a whole can of worms. One of the rules she had been taught since… well, forever, was to never interfere with immortal beings. She slowly moved her scythe away from the other's throat as she pondered this, and also because she didn't want Kiara touching it anymore. Despite her basically being freed from death's hold, Kiara didn't go anywhere. Calliope took this chance to examine her target, looking at her small stature, wings coming from her back. She did resemble the phoenixes in the book she read. Her wings had the same pattern as her hair, primarily orange but fading into a teal on the tips of her feathers. There were notes of gold, making them look closer to a sunset than a firebird. She, too, wore a chiton, clearly familiarizing herself with the culture of Greece as well.
Calliope took a deep breath. "Well," she began, her tone very apparently annoyed, "if there is one thing I know of phoenixes is that you cannot technically die. So, can you make this easy for me and let me kill you?" She asked, shifting her scythe in her hands. Kiara gave a strange look. This caused the reaper to groan. "Aren't you scared? Don't you just want this over with quickly?" She demanded answers from the phoenix, her patience beginning to quickly run thin. Kiara once again let out a sickly sweet giggle, another prick to Calliope's ears as she moved her hands to push the scythe against Kiara once again. "No, scared isn't the right word," she lethargically pressed both her hands against the blade, looking between it and the reaper, "I guess nervous is closer. I do not fear you, Mori Calliope. Death approaches everyone soon, doesn't it?"
Her hypothetical question fell silent as Calliope struggled for an answer. Why was she having such a hard time coming up with an answer? It was true, and she knew that. She still stayed quiet, even if her mind was screaming at her to answer. This silence led to Kiara continuing. "I value life a lot, but I also value death. I've been told by my mama and papa that phoenixes lose all memory when they die, so… That has motivated me to make lots of memories. I make them while I can, then start all over. It's a fun game." She finished.
This speech left Calliope completely silent and still. This was… so odd. Beyond what she had originally assumed. There was something wrong with how she talked about herself. Calliope had thought all phoenixes take their life—or lives—for granted. To be fair, in a way it did sound like that. Her hands shook as she glared at Kiara. Her eyes fixated on the other, making everything but the phoenix in front of her blurry. She didn't know if it was rage motivating her or if she was just going into complete tunnel vision. Calliope couldn't find words. In all honesty, she didn't know what she could say. Nothing she could say could add anything to this conversation. Her brain was completely lost. This led to the phoenix leaning forward, a look on her face that almost spelled concern. Calliope felt sick. She hated that look. That look of pity. Coming from someone she was meant to be killing, too. "Will this be painful?"
"No," Calliope quickly snapped back, "it'll be like a pinch." Kiara's face seemed to light up at that notion. She leaned back and closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. Instinct took over more than anything as Calliope lifted up her scythe, preparing to bring it down on the phoenix. Before she could do so, Kiara opened her eyes once again for a second. "Hey! But, Calli," she quickly said, eyes looking up between the weapon over her head and the small reaper wielding it, "I promise I'll do my best to remember you." That stupid smile stayed plastered on her face. Calliope couldn't say anything else, she slammed down her scythe as she reaped the young girl's soul. As she did so, she felt her stomach continue to churn. A sickening feeling encompassing her as she did so. Why was she feeling so bad? This… she had done this a million times before. Why was it so different now?
She wasn't even aware she had squeezed her own eyes shut, prying an eye open to look at the limp body that laid on the rocks. It was only a few moments before the body encompassed itself in flames, leaving nothing but a small pile of ash. It was strange, after she reaped mortals, usually their souls presented themselves to Calliope. However, nothing appeared before her. The ash just birthed a bright flame that flew off into the sky, in the form of a bird. She was powerless to do anything but watch. Calliope held her stomach as it continued to pain her, looking as the ash slowly moved in the wind. She gulped down anything that could be possibly rising in her throat, slicing the air in front of her and opening a portal back to the Underworld, which she found herself stumbling through.
—
It was a complete fever dream as Calliope made her way back to the chamber that hosted her master. She picked up the book she had set outside his door, shoving her shoulder against the large door to fling it open. As she entered, the familiar cold bit at her skin once again. She dropped the book onto the floor, a heaving groan escaping her as she did so. This drew the attention of Death, the ruffling of fabric filling the room as he turned towards the small girl. It wasn't often that Calliope was outwardly rude towards Death—hell, she couldn't remember the last time she was. "Why?" Her voice rang out, small and meek as it typically was. She wasn't one who often showed any weakness. She hated being weak. "Why was she… why? What was the point? She's just going to come back." Calliope raved as she lifted one hand to her head, fingers digging themselves into her skull as she lifted her hair up.
"That is not the reason I was so proud to be a reaper. I am meant to bring death to those who don't deserve it. I am meant to be a wake-up call, why did I have to kill her? I didn't even get a soul, what was the point, why did-"
"Silence."
The hoarse, dark voice made Calliope shut her mouth almost instantaneously. Death approached the small reaper, causing her façade to falter as tears finally escaped her eyes. She expected a lecture, or worse, she wasn't even sure if this would let her keep her position as the Grim Reaper's apprentice. She used the hand previously entangled in her own hair to wipe her eyes, a whine leaving her strained lungs. As she opened her eyes, she watched as Death leaned down, his arms outstretched to either side of him. It was a welcoming stance. Calliope dropped her scythe and ran over to him, wrapping him up in her arms and finally letting loose all the emotion she had kept under lock and key. She grabbed onto the fabric of Death's robe, eyes squeezing tight as tears poured from them.
Death slowly brought his bony hand up to place it on Calliope's back, smoothly rubbing it in an effort to calm the small reaper. "I understand your frustration," he finally spoke, his tone melancholy, "I am… sorry for misleading you for so long." Despite his body lacking breath, his being devoid of warmth, Calliope never felt safer than in the comforting embrace of her mentor. Death's fingers ran along Calliope's scalp in a soothing manner, doing his best to comfort her. She was just happy she wasn't being punished for her outburst. She was still just a child, and Death was aware of that. "I believe I have misled you on what your being entails."
Calliope sniffled, bringing a hand to her eyes and rubbing them. She looked up at her mentor, and directed her gaze to his empty eye sockets. "What do you mean?" Her eyes were bleary, still clouded by tears as she looked at her mentor. It was enough to make anyone feel guilty, even if they hadn't done anything. Death brought a hand down to hold her arm, guiding it down to take her small hand into his own. "Being a reaper isn't about bringing justice to undeserving humans, necessarily." He admitted, tone bleak and lacking the usual cadence it had. There wasn't a hint of sarcasm. Calliope once again rubbed her eyes, this time taking her eyes off the skeletal figure in front of her.
Death slowly stood to his feet, careful to help the smaller reaper up steadily herself. He turned his back to her for a moment, facing his desk. He wasn't looking across the desk for something, it seemed as if he was just ashamed to face Calliope, wanting an excuse to turn away. "The phoenix you met today–" he cut himself short, turning his head, "–that was today, wasn't it?" Calliope nodded. "I'm sure that was confusing for you, and I am sorry. I knew I would have to have this conversation with you one day because unlike the rest of the Underworld, you are death. You deal with these souls firsthand. You understand how poor these deadbeats' memories can be from their living existence." He continued on. As he did so, cold, bony hands finally made contact with wood.
The clattering of Death sorting through his desk rang through the small chamber, echoing off the walls. Calliope dared to step closer, her eyes peering just around the edge of Death's long robe. There, hidden amongst his desk, was a picture of the most beautiful woman that Calliope had ever laid eyes on. Her mouth went slack as she almost instinctively reached out for the canvas. Death drew it back, an amused look trying to form on his stone cold skull. "People… deserve life. There are those who do not, and those who do. It is your goal as a reaper to determine who is worthy of life and who isn't." He stated, slowly moving so the art was within the reach of the reaper before him. She once again reached for it, her eyes locked onto it as she brought it into her grasp.
"You might be able to learn a few things from a phoenix in that regard."
Calliope briefly looked at her mentor before her eyes snapped down to the artwork in her hands. She ran her fingers thoughtfully over the paper, taking in every possible detail of it. Long, burgundy locks flowed through the canvas like a sentient being, strips of a darker shade–almost more purple in hue–scattered throughout. Two dark green glowing eyes were stand-out in the sea of warmer colors. However, that wasn't what caught the young reaper's attention the most. Almost resembling earrings, two, long feathers hung beside the woman's head. They looked almost identical to her hair, save for the bright yellow markings. Calliope swore she had seen something similar to that before…
Cold air brushed past her. Calliope looked up to see Death walking away from her, further into the chamber, causing her to put the painting down for a moment. "Hey, wait, I-I still have questions." She called out. Her voice seemed like it was shot, and even for her, was weak. Death turned to her once again. "You are young. You have many years for those questions to be answered. You are dismissed." Calliope's eyebrows furrowed. She looked to the painting once again, before picking it up and placing it down back onto Death's desk.
"Take it with you."
"...What?"
Death didn't answer, sliding away deeper into his chamber. Calliope cursed herself as she once again picked up the painting. She didn't know why Death wanted her to keep this, but she would honor his word, regardless of what she thought. She turned her attention back to the scythe, her scythe, that had previously clattered to the ground as a result of her breakdown. She made her way over to the door, picking the scythe up on her way and exiting the chamber. As she walked around the Underworld, she kept the painting close to her. She still felt like her mind was reeling from the pow-wow she had just come from. She didn't know quite how to feel.
On one hand, she wanted to be furious. Death had lied to her, her own mentor had lied to her. Though it was a childish rage, it was overshadowed by her other feelings. She just felt… sad. Disappointed. She had never liked humans, or found them very interesting, and she certainly didn't believe they deserved the gift of life.
Humans shouldn't deserve life, and that's what Mori Calliope was taught since she came into existence. It was hard for her to wrap her mind around the fact that it was different.
Her mentor was right, however. She was still a young reaper. She had so, so much more to learn.