#zariel

[nepherit]

This is the Nine Hells fashion collection, first piece of the series:

Avernus, featuring Raphael and Zariel

It's time to make good use of all the fancy costume designs I sketched for Raphael 😆

[telumendils]

my chaotic neutral tav after learning one (1) thing about vlaakith, shar, mizora, zariel, cazador, mystra, etc:

[sunsetagain]

Baldur's Gate 3: My heart's An Empty Vase Looking For Roses

Ship: Karlach + non-ascendant Astarion

based on Descent into Avernus

free talk at the end

中文版

I wrote then canceled two comics after wrapping up Byzantine Generals. For a while I thought I lost my comic making ability forever, until BG3 stormed into my life.

Cover lyrics were written by Tender Henk from Singing Lute inn, on a sheet of paper on the desk in the room where Karlach's romance scene takes place. It suits her so well yet she calls him the worst guy she ever met LOL can't blame her bc what in the hells is Jableeda?

NGL I played Karlach in my first BG3 playthrough because her engine reminded me of the thirium pump of a DBH android. Romancing Astarion with her felt like Romancing Kamski with an android to me in the first place LMAO some pretty ancient headcanon like little boy Elijah being bullied in school built a buff RT600 Chloe to be his bodyguard blablabla

Then she and Astarion became my OTP and I played both of them to romance each other, tried every possibility i could think of.

So this comic is just a small talk about a big plan between Karlach and spawn Astarion after the ending of the game. Based on Descent into Avernus. I'm no DnD player so apologize in advance in case of any mistakes. OOC belongs to me.

[tshortik]

In my Descent into Avernus campaign Zariel is sporting more of a wrestler Mad Max queen kinda fashion as she bodies demons into the ground

[adarlingmess]

𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖓𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖆

Raphael is definitely arrogant and narcissistic enough to have himself painted triumphing over an archdevil

Some close ups, as a treat:

[blacksalander]

Caution Hot Surface

[chiefpurpleimp]

DONE ... mostly. Just the border to do.

This piece has consumed whatever little free time I have. I'm sorry for the spam 🤣. I'm just so very slow at drawing 😅.

I have other pieces planned but they will have to wait until I've finished some work and other things.

Hellriders in Avernus against Zariels armies.

[ttrpg-smash-pass-vs]

ORCUS

VS ZARIEL

First is Orcus, the Prince of Undeath, The Shadow That Was. The 20 ft (6.1 m) tall telepathic master of undead whose ultimate goal is to wipe out all of existence so he'll finally have some peace and quiet. That said, we know he has had many biological children, so the whole "undead" thing really hasn't slowed him down on that front. He can stop time, create/animate/summon basically any undead, and can summon waves of arms to grapple and restrain! A bunch of other stuff as well, but I assume you don't need to know all the ways he can instantly kill/vaporize you. Please don't make that your end goal with fucking.

Zariel is the Archduchess of Avernus. Essentially a 10 ft (3 m) angel who got sick of heaven refusing to intervene against demons. Took a huge contingent to the first layer of hell and just started slaughtering devils and demons alike. Was corrupted because she'd rather be Evil and saving the world from demons than Good and doing nothing. "I did not fall into the clutches of evil. I rose to shoulder a cosmic burden." She can turn invisible, transform into other humanoids, make illusions, and has a surprising amount of children. Odd given how she hates being drawn away from battle. After all, that "eternal martyr battling the demons" thing isn't just about her need for justice anymore, it's to drown out the regret of what she's become in the process.

[hydropyro]

Gortash / Karlach theory - Selling another to a devil

Both Gortash and Karlach were sold against their will to devils. Both escaped those devils, and despite the implied ownership cannot be recollected.

Why?

Their souls weren’t sold - they were subleased.

I’ll explain.

Enver was sold to Raphael by his parents when he was a child. Thus - Enver’s parents did not sell *Enver* - but their *custody* of him. Therefore Enver did not ‘escape’ insomuch as he grew up and inherited custody of himself upon adulthood. That’s why Raphael can’t just take him back.

The same goes for Karlach. She functioned as Enver’s bodyguard. *Especially* because he was raised by a devil, there would be a contract of employment.

Enver did not own Karlach, but had to have had a contract of service to him. If he *sublet* that contract, Karlach would therefore belong in Zariel’s service *for the length of the contract*. Therefore Karlach did not ‘escape’, her employment contract expired. Thats why Zariel wants her dead rather than just reclaiming her.

[junorsky]

I've been sitting on the sketches of Mephistopheles and other 5e archdevils for god knows how long

one day I will finish them. one day

Did you know Asmodeus is permanently bleeding and doesn't even care? That's pretty badass

[bg3scenarios]

Tav: I like the graffiti you did on that alley wall

Karlach: Thanks!

Karlach: …Wait

Karlach: How did you know it was me?

Astarion: Darling, it said “ZARIEL SUCKS EGGS” in red font with fire around it

Astarion: I’m pretty sure everyone in Baldur’s Gate knows it was you

Karlach: Oh

Karlach: Well, then…

Karlach: …Are you saying I have a brand?!

Astarion: I wasn’t-

Karlach: WOOOO!!! Fuck yes!!! FUCK ZARIEL!!! That’s some signature KARLACH for you, bitch!!! Don’t forget it, bitch!!! Renowned graffiti artist of Baldur’s Gate, bitch!!!!!

Tav: You’re better at hyping her up than I am

Astarion: …I fear I’ve created a monster

[ravenhive555]

Karlach vs Zariel

[autumn-sweet-fae]

Fun fact: Zariel, the Archduchess of Avernus, was once an Angel of Lathander, the Morninglord.

Because of this, whenever I reach the end of a bg3 play through, I must always make sure Karlach has the blood of Lathander mace in her inventory. This way, when Karlach and Wyll return to Avernus on a warpath, she’ll have the perfect thematically OP weapon to smash into Zariels face.

Besides, it’s also one of those weapons that is constantly emitting holy sunlight. So not the ideal weapon to keep around for a Tav/Durge who’s romancing a vampire lol

[moonselune]

Aasimar lover of karlach learning what her fate will be and just goes all doom eternal on everything in the hells till they give them s permanent cure for her. If karlach is going down the they're all get to join her unless they fix it

Oof this one hit me in the feels whilst writing it, great request!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach x Aasimar!reader| Hell hath no fury like an Aasimar scorned

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The revelation hit you like a sledgehammer. The infernal engine within Karlach, your fierce and beloved partner, was a ticking time bomb. Its ceaseless, hellish fire threatened to consume her from the inside out - to take her from you. As she lay in your arms, sputtering and burning out right before you, the once small spark of hope that there might be a cure, snuffed out.

This left behind only the cold, harsh truth of her fate. Desperation turned to resolve, as you blessed with celestial power, made a vow: if the Hells wanted to claim Karlach, they would have to go through you first. That or you were going to make sure they went down with her.

You kissed the top of her head, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she passed in and out of consciousness. You nodded to your companions and told them to stay by her side, you would be back as soon as possible.

Your wings unfurled, glowing with a divine light as you descended into the Hells. The infernal landscape writhed with demonic energy, but you moved with a singular purpose, your heart burning with an unyielding determination. Karlach’s time was running out, and you were ready to bring the fury of Heaven down upon the Hells to save her.

The first wave of demons fell before you like wheat to a scythe. Your sword, imbued with celestial fire, cleaved through their ranks with an unrelenting fury. You fought with a ferocity that bordered on madness, driven by love and the looming threat of losing Karlach forever. The ground beneath you cracked and smoldered as you tore through the infernal hordes, each swing of your blade a promise of wrath and redemption. If it weren't for the circumstances you would realise that you had never felt more alive.

Word of your rampage spread quickly through the Hells. The very air seemed to tremble with the power of your wrath. Lesser demons fled at the mere sight of you, while the more foolish ones who stood their ground were quickly dispatched. Your path led you to the citadel of Zariel, the archdevil who had once been an angel of mercy before her fall from grace. She was the key to Karlach’s salvation, and you would tear her throne apart to save your beloved. Zariel met you at the gates of her fortress, her eyes burning with a mixture of anger and amusement.

"Vile Aasimar," she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. "You dare bring your righteous fury into my domain?"

"You know why I’m here, Zariel," you replied, your voice steady despite the rage boiling within you. "Karlach deserves a chance to live without the curse of that infernal engine. If you won’t help her, then I’ll tear down your entire realm until you do."

Zariel laughed, a sound devoid of humor. "You think you can threaten me in my own domain? You are nothing but a fool."

"I am the fool? Look at you, cowering in your palace as I butcher your hordes like pigs up for slaughter." You spat, blood dripping from your armor, "You can send more, I dare you to, but when word gets round that you lost your army to me over one of your escaped soldiers, they will see you for what you truly are, for what I see you as. Pathetic."

You dragged your blade against the infernal ground and it sparked up as it scraped, imp wing and cambion blood covering it. "Give me the cure, Zariel. Release Karlach from this torment, or I will return and finish what I started. I will return with Selûne's daughter also and we will purge your land."

With a grudging nod, Zariel relented and she conjured a vial of radiant liquid, the cure for the infernal engine that threatened Karlach’s life. You snatched it from her grasp, your eyes burning with a mix of triumph and exhaustion.

With that you unfurled your wings once more and you returned to Karlach's side. She looked at you with a mixture of awe and relief as you approached, the vial clutched tightly in your hand. She was weak, her head resting in Shadowheart's lap as she kept her from the edge of death. You could tell she did not have long left.

"I got it," you said, your voice breaking with emotion. "You’re going to be okay, my love."

As you administered the cure, you watched the torment in her eyes fade, replaced by a warmth that mirrored your own. She pulled you into a fierce embrace, your strong arms holding her close. Karlach cared not for the viscera you were covered in and clung to you.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice choked with tears. You held her tightly, your heart swelling with love and relief and your pressed numerous kisses to her temple.

"I could not bear to live this life without you, my love" you replied, your voice filled with unwavering resolve. "I’ll always fight for you, my love Karlach. Always."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Did unspecified Aasimar so more people could interpret it, hope you liked it ! - Seluney xoxo

[everybodyloveshippos]

A Campaign of Gods and Monsters

Lyrics from Cassandra by Florence + the Machine

Redraw of this art. It was cool to see where I've improved! This is art of our D&D campaign, focused more of the characters who have religious arcs

[scuttlingcrab]

Short one for ya!

Raphael reacting to waking up to his little mouse tending to his injuries?

Thank you so much for sending me the prompt, really enjoyed writing this! Hopefully the first of many one-shots of Raphael in the Hells. x

Summary: With the help of Tav, Raphael fights against Zariel for his seat in Avernus. Much to Raphael's dismay, the fight ends up being more difficult than he anticipated.

Notes: Mild violence as Raphael fights for his life. Tav is depicted as gender neutral.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Inferna Victoria

(Image via red-dead-sakharine)

Raphael stood atop a towering mound of corpses, surveying the growing battlefield before him. Mighty horned devils, lemure foot soldiers, and various other fallen imps and fiends had become indistinguishable amid the carnage of constant battle.

Thick blood oozed from thousands of bodies, slowly trickling into the River Styx. Raging flames from Zariel’s toppled flying fortresses licked the orange coloured skies of Avernus, enveloping the surrounding area in a dense layer of black smoke. Before long the sky itself was nearly covered in total oblivion from the twisted wreckage, giving the illusion of the deepest, darkest night.

For Raphael it was just another day in Avernus as he fought against Zariel and her forces, obliterating anything she threw at him. The Crown of Karsus rested comfortably on his head throughout the combat, never shifting as he charged through the chaos, slaying one enemy after another. The newfound power of the Crown was fused to his core, amplified by the pulsing Sceptre of Karsus he gripped in his hand.

Despite the extraordinary amount of strength surging through Raphael’s veins, enough to topple cities with the snap of his fingers, a nagging thought still tore at the back of his mind; slowly chipping away at the once sturdy walls of his morale. There was a possibility, although minute, that this battle would not end in his favour.

Raphael desired nothing but a grand victory, to set the stage for the later acts to come, but he would have to fight until the bitter end to secure his spot in Avernus. An undignified beginning to uniting the Hells. 

As much as he hated to admit it, the fight hadn’t been without its challenges. Zariel had proven to be a formidable opponent, her years of fighting in the Blood War and her fixation on barbarity moulded her into a sheer powerhouse. He had entered the battlefield expecting to easily crush an ant under his boots, but was left dealing with a persistent ironclad beetle.

They had been fighting relentlessly for nearly a week without proper respite and Raphael could feel his powers gradually depleting, each movement slower than the last. 

Earlier that day, in an attempt to avoid the poisonous bite of a pit fiend, Raphael had left himself wide open. As he ripped the fiend’s head off like a rag doll, crushing the skull between his fists, Zariel hit him with one of her javelins. It tore through his armour, leaving a gaping hole in his side. Raphael cursed, breaking the javelin in half and skewering two adjacent horned devils in response. 

Raphael knew he needed to recharge, to heal his injuries, but that alone would cause Zariel to advance where he had previously pushed back. No. He would proceed as planned. Raphael would not rest until he had her head displayed on a spike for all the Hells to see.

The wounds still stung as Raphael stepped to the side, deflecting another attack from Zariel. He ignored the pain as he threw her back with a raging thunder wave. She teleported behind Raphael in a crackle, raising her longsword for another strike. Zariel bared her teeth, slashing desperately at Raphael, pushing him closer towards the edge of the mound. They began a strange dance, moving in irregular circles around each other as they both strived to land a finishing blow. 

Tav’s war cries carried on from below, easing Raphael’s nerves. They fought alone near the base of the mound, keeping the growing legions of Zariel’s forces at bay. Hearing their shouts, the sounds of their steel cutting through flesh, was an odd relief to Raphael. It was his way of monitoring Tav, knowing they still fought alongside him. That they were safe. 

He had amassed his own army, slowly building up his forces over the centuries of unabated scheming. They were all dispensable, even his greatest commanders were meaningless to him. Raphael could care less whether or not these devils perished in battle, they only served as pawns in his grand ambitions. Tav was Raphael’s greatest weapon, what he cherished more than the very Artefacts of Karsus he sought for a millennia. 

Raphael quickly glanced in Tav’s direction as he ducked, narrowly avoiding Zariel’s sword as she sliced the air above him. Tav was simply marvellous, a stunning sight to behold on the battleground. Pit fiends snarled and howled as they tried to reach Raphael, but Tav struck them down. They were relentless and precise with every movement, showing no mercy. 

There was a time when Raphael would’ve been on the receiving end of Tav’s sword; back when the threat of the Elder Brain still loomed high over Faerûn and Raphael had all the time in the world to play with his food. He did not pity any fiends who faced their wrath.

Zariel lunged at Raphael’s side, digging her talons into his open wounds. Raphael grunted, the sudden influx of pain causing him to fall into Zariel. He latched on to her legs as he toppled over the mound, bringing her down with him. Their bodies increased in speed as they fell, rolling continuously against each other. Raphael’s vision blurred, his world spinning out of control as his head slammed against Zariel’s armour. He released his grip on Zariel and dug his claws into the dirt, barely stopping himself from plunging headfirst into the River Styx. 

Raphael jumped to his feet, steadying himself as the ground stopped rocking. He spat in agony as he clutched his side. It throbbed, mimicking the erratic beat of his heart. Zariel had succeeded in wounding him a second time, increasing the size of the original puncture tenfold. His hands trembled as he made an effort to seal the injury, to keep the blood from pouring down his leg, but it was no use. He was no healer. He needed Tav for that. Later! He quickly prepared a shield, anticipating another attack from Zariel, but found the Archduchess still on her knees. She struggled to rise, stumbling over herself like a newborn fawn.

Raphael gasped, a massive wave of adrenaline smashing into his body. He had been gifted a rare moment of opportunity, as if the mistress of fate hand delivered it to Raphael herself. Without hesitation, Raphael summoned a silver sword in one hand, using his free palm to viciously snap his fingers. 

Thorny vines sprouted up around Zariel, latching onto her and pinning her further to the ground. She growled, thrashed, tore at the vines but they only tightened around her. Raphael flicked his wrist and the vines coiled at her neck, forcing Zariel to look in his direction. Zariel’s body flickered as she tried to teleport out of the bindings, but the thorns only ripped against her skin, leaving her armour in tatters.

“Alas, the mighty Zariel…” 

Raphael limped towards the Archduchess, leaving a trail of bloody footprints in his wake. It took all the power he had left to remain upright as he approached her. He wanted to howl in anguish with each quivering step. Intense bursts of pain flared through his bones, travelling from his heels to the tip of his skull. He held his chin high, his face stoic, empty of any emotions that might give away his true mental state. Raphael’s grip on the sword hilt tightened as he stared at Zariel, never breaking eye contact. 

She met his gaze with her own immolating stare, her white-hot eyes attempting to set Raphael ablaze but the flames merely rolled off his shoulders.

“Your reign has finally reached its conclusion.” 

“Spare me the theatrics, Raphael.” Zariel hissed, “even now you waste my time with these futile farces.”

The air was still, completely void of any sounds of death or destruction. Raphael inhaled through his gritted teeth, pinpointing his attention on Zariel. The surrounding landscape, rotting corpses, and remnants of battle slowly vanished. It was just Raphael and Zariel under a growing spotlight, standing on the very dais that Raphael had painstakingly constructed. 

Raphael remembered the exact moment he first craved Zariel’s demise; all the hours he spent indulging in fantasies about the various ways he would dethrone her, demoralising her in front of her legions of followers. Raphael had no master, he only served to benefit himself. For every soul Raphael delivered to Zariel throughout the centuries of service, he harboured two or three more to his own collection - steadily growing more powerful under her nose. He had hypothesised every possible outcome, made sure to plan if and when anything were to go awry, but he had never quite imagined this. Zariel, caught in his grasp like a worthless fly in a honey pot.

“I must thank you, dear Archduchess. Your corpse will make a fine trophy as I parade it throughout the Hells during my conquest…”

As Raphael raised his sword, Zariel shrieked, punching through the vines. She swung her flail, cracking it against Raphael’s skull. He stumbled back, immediately losing concentration on the spell. In a swift motion Zariel teleported, appearing in front of Raphael and thrusting her sword through his chest.

“NO!” Raphael roared, spurting blood from his mouth. 

Zariel was within inches of Raphael’s face, sneering at him as she pushed the sword deeper. The feeling of panic Raphael felt was like a jagged rock stuck in his larynx. He had witnessed that mocking grin once before, from his own father, as he grovelled at his feet in the Great Halls of Cania – begging for his acceptance. 

“Raphael!” Tav’s shouts were distant, echoing from all directions. He pushed them out of his mind, there was no time for consolation.

“This will not be my end!” 

A blue glow enveloped Raphael’s body, slowly pulsating as the light became hotter, brighter. Raphael’s pupils dilated, a small blue flame in his eyes growing more significant as he glowered at Zariel. The ground at his feet turned black from the immense heat radiating off his body, the radius increasing rapidly, incinerating any corpses that lay near him. 

Zariel’s eyes widened as she tried to step back but Raphael grabbed her shoulders. A sudden gush of lightning shot through his fingertips. Zariel’s screams were drowned out by the sound of electricity coursing through her. Raphael squeezed harder, releasing more lightning into her wretched form. Her leather wings melted, her pale skin withering from the heat.

Zariel fell to the floor, a useless heap of burnt flesh. Smoke rose from her body as she started laughing, the scent of blood and scorched skin filling the air. She tilted her head up at Raphael, the laughter growing more hysterical as she leered at him. Zariel’s glowing eyes and white fangs stood out against her now charcoal skin.

“You are a fool,” Zariel spoke in a pained whisper. “You will never succeed, you will never make it past Avernus.”  

Raphael clenched his fists, looking down at what remained of the once fearsome warrior.

“You were always meant to fail, Raphael… I will see–” 

Raphael didn’t allow Zariel to finish; he savagely stomped on her head, releasing all his pent up fury. He let out a primal scream so loud he hoped it would travel to the very pits of Nessus. Raphael would come for them all in due time. Let them see what he was truly capable of. He smashed and smashed until Zariel’s laughter stopped, until her body was a discoloured pulp under his boots. 

“When I have united the Hells, I will think fondly on this moment...” Raphael spoke, his voice soft as if strained.

Raphael suddenly fell to his knees, feeling light headed. His breathing grew short and unstable. His ears rang and he shook his head to get rid of the irritating noise, to focus his attention back on the combat… but he found himself keeling over. He lay on his side, staring towards the war that was still being fought in his name.

The weight of the sword grew heavier as he inhaled, each breath like a new laceration. He carefully shifted on his back to ease the pain. Raphael placed a hand on his chest, feeling the warmth of the blood as it continued to leak out of the wound. 

He smiled as he looked up at the murky skies of Avernus, watching as a fiery comet shot through the clouds. These skies now belonged to him.  

A tall figure approached Raphael from his periphery. As they grew closer, their shape became more distinct. A slender form, broad shoulders, pointed ears… Tav. They lurched towards him, throwing their weapons aside as they fell to their knees, hugging him. 

Tav wrinkled their brow as they ran a jerky hand across Raphael’s face. Their expression grew more troubled as they observed his state, their eyes quickly turning into a watery gaze. Raphael met their concern with a smile as he felt his eyelids grow heavier. Tav began to speak, frantic words, shouts, but it was all incomprehensible to Raphael. He felt his body lifted, his arms dangling to the side as he soon lost consciousness.  

–––

Raphael drifted, null of any previous pain or grievances. His mind was empty of any thoughts or emotions. Everything was calm, too calm. What had become of him? How long had he been in this fugue state? Suspended in nothingless? As Raphael began to focus, he could feel a warm liquid embracing him, cradling him as if he was in a cocoon. His limbs tingled as he lay suspended, a warmth beating in his chest. 

Something soft brushed against his cheek, pulling him further out of the trance. It left another prickling sensation emanating through his face, creeping along his neck and back like tendrils. Raphael opened his eyes to find Tav looking down at him, stroking his swollen cheeks with a damp silk cloth. He was floating in his restorative bath, the red velvet curtains drawn between each column. Candles were peppered along the edge of the water, illuminating the bath in a cosy ambiance. 

When Tav met Raphael’s eyes, the memories returned to him, instantaneously flooding his intellect. He shot up, stumbling as he attempted to leave the bath. He fell against the marble stairs, reaching for the sword in his chest. But it was gone, a massive scar remained in its place, covering the span of his entire torso.

“No… I must resume! The fight is yet–”

“The fighting has ended. We have won.”

“We must press on if we are to…” 

Raphael reclined on the steps, panting heavily. His chest was tight, head pounding. Drops of blood dripped into the bath, slowly turning the clear waters crimson. The wound in his chest had reopened, not yet fully healed. 

“Bah!” Raphael yelled out in frustration, his voice vibrating throughout the boudoir. 

Tav rose to join him, calmly resting their hand on his shoulder. They dabbed the silk cloth in the water, bringing it to his chest. They lightly applied pressure to the wound, repeating the motion a few more times until the bleeding ceased. 

“Please, rest. I only speak the truth.”

“What of Zariel’s forces?”

“The ones I could not destroy fled in fear, hiding in the shadows like cowards. The rest have sworn their allegiance to you.”

Raphael tilted his head, searching Tav’s face for a hint of falsity. If they lied to him he would incinerate their mortal soul where they stood, no matter how much he cared for them. He peered deeper into their pale blue eyes but could sense nothing but the truth. 

“So it is done.” Raphael whispered. 

Tav nodded, watching Raphael with immense pride. 

Raphael expected to have felt more in this triumphant moment, but he experienced an odd numbness in place of celebration. His arduous labour, spanning across the millennia, had not gone to waste after all, but there was something missing. How anticlimactic. He let out a sigh, carefully allowing himself to loosen his muscles against the steps.

“Do not fret. You did well, Archdevil. I was proud to have fought at your side.”

Tav’s words, albeit kind in nature, struck harshly against Raphael’s face. Indeed, it had been a favourable outcome but he could only find the flaws in his tactics, fixating on all the things that went amiss. If he had slain Zariel faster he would already be on his way to vanquishing Dis. Raphael instinctively turned away from Tav, hiding his flushed cheeks. Tav softly grabbed Raphael’s chin, turning his gaze back to them.  

“Inferna Victoria.” Tav spoke, their eyes glittering in the candlelight. 

Raphael stiffened, his mouth hanging ajar as he locked eyes with Tav. 

“Inferna Victoria.” Raphael whispered in response. Uttering that phrase out loud, for the first time, reignited a spark in his being. Of course. How could he have forgotten? 

Raphael scanned his chest, now imperfect and riddled with souvenirs of the frontlines. He brought his hand to Tav’s cheeks, stroking their face. They nestled against his palm. His little mouse, his prized warrior.

Their moment was soon interrupted when Raphael felt the presence of a lingering debtor enter his boudoir.

"Speak." Raphael growled.

“Master. You have a message. I believe it is from Him.”

Raphael sat upright, as if Asmodeus had entered the quarters along with the debtor. Despite the warm bath surrounding him, a sharp chill ran up his spine. Tav touched his thigh, giving him a small reassuring nod.

The Archdevil had won his first battle, but there was only more to come.