You open your eyes, yet see nothing. The ground under your feet is crunchy and a bit slippery. The air is extremely cold. Are you... in Cania?

You look around as some shapes start to manifest from the void. Weird figures you cannot recognize lay all around you. Then, you look down.

Blood. Blood on snow. An awful shiver crawls up your spine as your eyes get used to the darkness and you notice that the figures around you are in fact torn, dead bodies. Suddenly, an awful, nauseating smell hits your nose and you attempt to stop your gag reflex but when you look down, your feet are submerged in blood and guts. You throw up, your eyes watering with tears, the hair on your skin stands on its ends, as if trying to warn you from something.

A weird, impossible to ignore sensation splashes on the back of your neck and head, ordering you to move forward. You are scared terrified and tightly grasp your own forearm hurting yourself, as your feet slide with disgusting splashes.

'The hero of Baldur's Gate,' a deep voice rumbles and suddenly you dash forward, fear pushing you past the piles of the dead bodies.

You sob and sniff, trying to get away from the danger but despite seeing so little, you feel as if the monster chasing you already spread his claws to each of your sides.

You slip and crawl past a body, until a hand grabs your forearm. You look towards it with terror and see Karlach's body in ruin, next to her - Wyll. Their eyes are on you, but there is barely any life in them. Another hand grabs your left forearm and then you see Gale, Lae'Zel. Astarion grabs your leg.

All of them lock you in place and as the beast approaches from behind, hiding itself in the darkness, you can instinctively feel a blade aiming straight at your neck. When it lands, you open your eyes for the second time, seeing two burning iris piercing right through you.

Your heart pounds like a heavy hammer and your sleepy, weak body pushes you to the farthest side of the bed.
'God!' You shout and blink away the aftershock of your nightmare.

'Devil, rather,' Raphael says and leans back, examining your state with a small smile.

You try to relax and reach with a shaky hand to your forehead, suddenly noticing how drenched in sweat you are.
'Did I wake you? Was I saying something?' you ask him in a quiet voice, slowly getting yourself up to sit on the bed.

'Just tossing and turning, with an occasional fracted breath,' he responds. 'What was the dream of, little mouse?'

You look up at him while examining your soaked back. You desperately need a relaxing bath. As your gaze returns up to the cambion, you also notice that he is no longer wearing a black night gown, but something similar to his usual attire. Actually, it looks almost the same, excluding the lack of golden stripes in place of a floral golden pattern spreading from his shoulders, towards the center of his abdomen. The attire was as always perfectly tailored, emphasizing his luminous silhouette; strong and wide shoulders, slim waist and muscular arms.

'I think if I were to tell you, I might end up throwing up.'

'That bad? Ohh.'

You look at him suspiciously when all you see is a satisfied grin, exposing his pointy fangs.
'It's not your doing, is it?'

He places his bandaged claw on his heart and his wings retract just a tiny bit towards his back as he makes a sad expression.
'Mine? I would never.'

You glance at his wings and the realization hits you.
'Wait!' you point at the previously damaged joints. 'Was Halsin here? How long was I asleep?'

'It's still early in the morning,' Raphael says.

'Was Halsin here?'

'At some point.'

'Raphael,' you glare at him. 'Was it at some point today before I woke up?'

'Forgive me, little mouse, for my state seems to have affected my sense of time.'

You cover your face with your hand and sigh deeply.
'You are so awfully unbearable at times.'

'I am glad to inform you that the feeling is mutual.'

You spread your fingers and shoot him an annoyed glance. He furrows his eyebrows just a tiny bit, casting a shadow on his already darkened features.

You slide yourself from the bed and turn around to strip it from the wet bedsheets. After a few moments of Raphael idly standing near, you turn your head towards him, but his attention is elsewhere - he is glancing outside the closest window watching the snowflakes lazily fall from the sky onto the white horizon, gently stroking his chin. You take a few extra second just to look at him. When he is relaxed and not frowning, this is when you truly realize how incredibly handsome he is - in both of his forms.

You exhale and grab the drenched fabric and make your way to the bathroom, then drop it into a big bowl. You will wash the bedsheets later, after you've done a few things planned for the day. You go back to the main room and prepare a set of your monastic clothes. You grab deep, dark blue harem pants, a long stone-grey sleeveless robe made of slick fabric and a pile of bone-white bandages.

Raphael is still standing in his previous spot, but you do not want to bother him with a question about his plans, as you suspect that he is already playing his usual mind-chess.

You return to the bathroom, close the door, set the clothes neatly near the constantly steaming pool and begin to strip down, throwing the removed garments to the big bowl with dirty bedsheets. When you finally soak inside the water, you let out a satisfied sigh and start cleaning your body and scalp, using your favorite delicate jasmine soap.

A few minutes later, you kneel near the pile of your clothes, dressed in your undergarments and harem pants, with bandages wrapping the bottom half of your calves and around your feet. You proceed to wrap your torso in the rest of the gentle, cotton fabric, creating a secure layer of protection from the frost that won't obscure any of your unarmored movements. After a moment of hesitation, you decide to make an improvised turtleneck from the bandages, pleasantly hugging your neck. You finish the process by putting on the robe and wrapping the rest two swathes of fabric around your forearms.

You stand up to your feet and examine yourself in the mirror, striking a power pose, as you approve of what you see in the reflection. You grab a brush from the near drawer and braid the hair from your sides, tying them behind your back, leaving a few longer strands of hair for face framing. In the last moment before leaving the bathroom, you smear a bit of a rose-cedarwood smell around your wrists and neck.

With that, you leave the bathroom and find yourself feeling a stab of disappointment at Raphael's absence. You make your way towards the fireplace, quickly and efficiently setting up a kettle with water in it. Instead of idly waiting, you walk to the other side of the room with an alchemy lab and a hatch, which you open and descend down the ladder.

Inside your very well equipped storage, you retrieve the Orphic Hammer mounted on the wall, then remove Raphael's heavy armor from a rack next to Ketheric's armor.

Most of your companions have either received some other type of equipment as they ventured forth on their own, or returned the goods to you. And because of your inner codex, you don't want to sell any of your teams' temporary belongings. Temporary, because you are planning to return almost all of them.

You glance at the wooden chest, then open it to look for the Gauntlets of the Hill Giant Strength. After some time, you gather all of the items and transport them from the basement to the living room. Raphael is still absent and you wonder if he left or if he's still somewhere inside.

When you knock on the door to the guest room, there is no response. You gently open the door and hold it for a moment, but as no complaints come from the cambion, you push it further and inspect the empty room. He really seems to be gone. You transport the Orphic Hammer, Helldusk Armor and the Gauntlets and place them in the middle of the room so that they are impossible to be left unnoticed. Then, you make yourself some tea and go outside.

The air is getting warmer. In a month and a half when you will meet up with your friends thanks to the summoning of Withers, you expect to see some green grass instead of a snowy landscape.

Late in the day, you find yourself sitting in front of your house, trying to reconnect with your Ki. You can feel it, but it is very weak, distracted, as if flowing away from you, not inside of you. It's the first time you have ever experienced such sensation during meditation. You know for a fact that this is caused by the Mephistopheles' curse, but you have no idea what exactly can be the source of it; what is the exact goal of the spell?

You do your best to recall everything that happened when you travelled to Cania. Your brain replays the scene: Lord of the Eighth dragging his claw across Raphael's body, then slicing through your back with the same claw, his words 'I must... make sure'. What is he making sure of? That Raphael will no longer plot against him?

Ki requires a balance of body, mind and soul. According to Raphael you are now soul bound with him, whatever that even means. You cannot seem to fully dial in with your soul through Ki, but at the same time it seems that you ending your life will transport you to Cania. Yet, somehow Raphael has not killed you either. Which is to say the least odd, considering his initial reaction to you when he regained consciousness.

You think about the time when Raphael was naked and snapped his fingers a few times but nothing changed. What was he trying to do? Was it teleporting? Or putting on clothes? Can he use his magic at all? Is he suffering the same as you with your Ki? What about the wings this morning, you asked Halsin and he did not visit the patient himself.

You shiver on the cold air, but stay on the ground surrounded by snow, desperately trying to manifest the aura you were training for months before venturing to Hells.

'How long do you plan to keep up this nonsense?' Raphael's voice suddenly joins the symphony of the howling, chilly wind.

'Until I get it back,' you respond.

'The Hero of Baldur's Gate,' he starts theatrically and you can hear his footsteps on the snow, as he slowly paces towards you. 'Found frozen to death.'

'I wouldn't push myself that hard,' you counter and readjust your stiff knees, trying to hide a shiver from his watchful eyes. 'Why won't you tell me more about the nature of the curse?'

'Sign the pact with me and I will add every single detail about the curse to your debt.'

'There is no pact, I won't sign anything.'

He chuckles a few times.

'Leave me to my practice, please,' you request. 'I need to focus.'

'Am I occupying too much of your mind, little mouse?'

You sigh and lift yourself on your hands and rotate yourself away from his gaze. There is a little bit of warmth on your cheeks.
'I try to be a kind person, so when someone talks to me, I try to partake in the conversation. And I need to be focused.'

He responds with silence, but despite your closed eyes you can tell that he is still there. The weight of his gaze starts to feel very uncomfortable, but you sit straight and continue to focus on your breathing. A few moments later, your elegant pose is interrupted by a violent tremble of your shoulders. You frown, annoyed that after around half an hour there is no progress at all.

'Aren't you cold?' you ask randomly.

'I thought you wanted me to let you focus.'

'Then stop burning a hole right through me,' you turn your head above your left shoulder and open your eyes to look at him.

His left arm is tucked around his waist and under his right elbow and he traces his thumb across the nails of his right hand. When he shoots you a lazy glance from the corner of his eyes, you can feel your heart skip a bit. You suddenly realize that maybe he wasn't looking at you at all, yet your body tensed just by his proximity.

As the two of you stare at each other, you make yourself aware of his lack of response to your question.

'Raphael?'

'Yes, dear?'

You turn your head away, returning to your meditation. A few moments later, you can hear a crunch of snow and you know damn well he is annoyed, shifting his foot just a tiny bit.

'Speak.'

You smile to yourself and continue to be silent, while lazily brushing off snowflakes from the top of your head, making sure he notices just how completely unbothered you are. You expect him to rather walk away than act in any other way, that's why you are surprised when he grabs the collar of your robe and drags you towards the small hut. You twist yourself just enough to grab a handful of snow, then throw it at him. The snow melts immediately on his hot skin and his face twists in annoyance.

'It's not nice when one doesn't respond to questions, is it? I asked if you were cold!'

'No,' he snaps and opens the door, then attempt to throw you inside, but you manage to climb to your feet and brush of your robe.

When you lift your head up towards the living room, you notice a third person inside, lying on your bed; their tail occasionally swinging like that of a cat.
'Haarlep!' you smile at them as they wave at you invitingly with a grin. 'Are you risking your safety again?'

Raphael stands proudly next to you, not looking at either you or Haarlep; there is an awfully tense aura around him, as if he is stopping himself from snapping - which is probably what's going on inside his head.

'Pet, don't forget I'm not a devil. I have a bit more freedom, than those boring all-about-law-hell-inhabitants.'

You make your way to Haarlep and take off your robe.

'Undressing already?' they ask and shift on the bed, spreading their legs for you.

'I was sitting in snow, silly.'

'So are you wet?'

'I-' you open your mouth to respond but notice their innuendo and give them a warning look. 'Is this a coincidence that Raphael shows up after being mysteriously away for a whole day,' you look back at the cambion on the other side of the room 'and you are here at the same time?'

'I'm not tied to my previous brat anymore,' Haarlep coos.

'And my business is none of your concern,' Raphael's voice raises as he begins to speak, his tone stern and a bit threatening.

'I was just wondering why you showed up again. I am not signing anything with you. I already told you,' you approach the table and look at the cambion above the smoldering fireplace. 'Though, maybe it's better you showed up. Have you been inside the guest room?' you ask and push the door open and point at the Orphic Hammer and his armor. 'Please take your belongings.'

There is a flash of anger on his face and he takes a step forward, his left arm still tucked under his right elbow. You now have a theory that he is trying to hold himself from going into a physical fight with you.
'And where would I take them, little mouse?'

You shoot him an honestly shocked look.
'Surely someone as resourceful as you can find some new mansion, no?'

He unfolds his arms, then reaches towards a frying pan with a handle sticking out, acting as an obstacle in his current course, and powerfully pushes it away, releasing some of the built-up anger. The pan lands on the wooden floor with a loud thud.

Uh-oh. You think to yourself and slowly start walking around the table. Everything looks so similar to the moment he first woke up, but he is definitely in a much better, stronger shape now.

'If I wasn't... bound... to the Material Plane, then I would.'

You stop in your track, standing on the opposite side of the table. Haarlep watches the two of you very carefully, flipping onto their belly, with their chin supported on their right hand.

'Bound to the Material Plane?' you repeat. 'What does that mean?'

'That I have been exiled from Hells, stupid mouse!'

You unconsciously mimic his thinking pose, stroking your chin in thought.
'Uh. So that's what Mephistopheles meant,' he raises his eyebrow at you and you use your hands to draw a quotation mark in the air. 'I must make sure - that's what he said and then he marked my back. It was after he marked your chest.'

'So you got chest and back shot?' Haarlep asks. You turn your head towards them and feel your arms drop to the sides with sheer disappointment. They smile cutely and swing their feet.

You turn your attention to Raphael and start:
'Is there something I can do about it?' He raises his eyes to the ceiling and gives you a dramatic eyeroll along with an exhale. 'Except for being forever in your service,' you mock him, leaning forward a bit.

Raphael grits his teeth and tenses his fists, before allowing his shoulders to relax again.

Suddenly, you can hear Haarlep chuckle and they say something in Infernal. Raphael's eyes shot to them and you are certain that if it was within his power, Haarlep would lie dead.

'What was that?' you ask curiously, but Raphael glares at Haarlep again and resumes his stride around the table.

You start backing away, watching half-fiend very carefully.
'So, why not just settle somewhere here? I don't mean Moonrise Towers, but Baldur's Gate? You were conducting business there anyway.'

He can't stop himself from a taunting chuckle.
'In this filthy, chaos consumed world?'

You stare at him blankly.
'Why do you hate the Material Plane so much, Raphael?'

'For very obvious reasons,' he responds, rolling the last word off his tongue. 'I loathe the litters of kittens, chattering children, the noise and the absolute lack of order of it all. And my House of Hope, the one you and your spineless worms of companions took away from me, was ruled efficiently, with laws and rules in place, all kept in place by a firm hand. My hand.'

'But it was only your house,' you notice. 'You said yourself that you want the Crown of Karsus to expand that order all over Hells, so it implies that the Hells, as of now, are in disarray, yet you miss that environment so much.'

'You want me to bask in the social scene of the mortals?' he spat out with disgust, as you turn a corner around the fireplace.

'Is it truly that much worse than Hells?'

'Well, obviously' he swings his arms dramatically, raising his eyebrows.

The two of you approach the table again and you click your tongue on your teeth.
'You really do think of mortals as lower beings, don't you?' He doesn't respond but his look is enough of an answer. 'I'm sorry Raphael, for saving you from a highly sophisticated society of devils who are so incredibly lawful and in order, that they torture their own family members over the course of months whilst spreading humiliating news about them, because apparently there is something wrong with dying in a battle when you are at a clear numerous disadvantage... And,' you pretend that you suddenly recall a detail in the story. 'Oh and yes, also sexually abusing and raping your body ever since a spy of your-FUCKING-father, an incubus with a claim on your form, returned from his service to Cania. What a truly fantastic society one can find themselves to be a member of! You keep saying that mortals are so disgusting and simple and whatever-else and the truth is, that you guys are much simpler!'

'Oh, do enlighten me, little mouse,' he stops at the opposite side of the table once more.

'What new can I tell you?' you raise your hands in question and slap them on your sides as they fall. 'Devils operate in literally only a few keywords. The everyone's favorite: manipulation,' you wave your hand at him. 'We also have, torture! Murder! Mischief! Misleading mortals! There is quite a lot starting with an 'M' apparently. We also have...'

'Depraved sex!' Haarlep joins in from the bed.

'Thank you! Depraved sex, seduction, lust, and even more sex and more lust. Top all of that with disgusting, vomit inducing levels of luxury built on the suffering of infernal debtors and an endless hunger for power. You guys are so boring it's crazy.'

'And what does the astounding Material Plane,' he swings his right hand in the air a few times, while looking away from you for a brief moment. 'Have to offer?'

'Something that your hellish half will immediately reject,' you point your accusive finger at Raphael. 'Variety, Raphael. Joy, happiness, all of which can be received from the simplest, most basic things in life, but also the opposite. Sorrow, pain, hunger for power and all of that stuff. There's so many things here, it's not so one sided.'

'And yet we wouldn't exist if it wasn't for the cravings of the mankind,' Raphael notices and takes a step closer towards your direction, wrapping his left elbow around his belly again, sensually tracing his thumb on his fingers. 'We are simply,' you watch him slowly circling to your back. 'embodiments of the true human's desires.'

'You make it sound like there are no other desires, which is wrong.'

'All the sinful fantasies, all the delightful desires, the unsatisfied urges... all condensing over the millennia until eventually taking the form of the devils,' he purrs to you, slowly, lazily walking around you. You shoot him a bored glance, hoping that the tingling on your cheek is not visible in a form of a blush.

'Don't put me in that group,' you request kindly and place your palms together, then bring them to your heart. 'I follow my vows of purity,' you say in a slightly joking manner, trying to release the tense atmosphere which seems to be so thick you can cut through it with a sword.

Then, Haarlep bursts into the cloud of cinders, emerging as you. Completely naked. They seductively bite on the nail of your right index finger, slowly positioning themselves in a very revealing pose, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

'Wow, ok. First of all, this is extremely embarrassing, but I do appreciate the comedic timing,' you say and wrap yourself tightly with your arms, feeling awfully unwell. 'Second of all, which side are you on?'

'The side of entertainment,' Haarlep responds. 'In my expert opinion, you should just settle it by fucking.'

'Can you please at least put on the pretty harness? I don't...' your arms slouch to your sides and you readjust your weight on your feet. The moment of your weakness is immediately engraved in memory of Raphael, his eyes inspecting you, taking every single twitch of your muscles in. 'I don't really enjoy the view.'

'I couldn't agree more,' Raphael nods and you don't even turn your head to look at him, feeling a sting inside your chest.

'Please, Haarlep,' you say quietly. They prolong the moment, but disappear in the cloud of cinders and appear in their true form. 'Thank you.'

This definitely destroys the fire you had for any kind of conversation. You exhale heavily and turn around, avoiding Raphael's gaze.

'If you will excuse me, I have some chores to do,' you inform and make your way to the bathroom, where you take care of your laundry.