A statement of a soul | Raphael x Reader

2. Preparations

You wake up inside your tent, clutching the three books close to your chest, feeling your dried throat. You were so tired that the moment your body collapsed to the bedrool, you most likely immediately fell asleep and snorted your way through the night.

As you carefully stretch your feet and slide the books from the top of your body, you push the blanket to the side and step outside the tent. The morning sun is already shining over the horizon, greeting your camp with a warm embrace.

You approach a drying rack with your shirt and spare underwear hanging from it and check if your clothing is already dry. It is almost ready to be put on again and you are happy to notice that the shirt doesn't have any blood stains from your recent combat.

As a monk, you prefer to avoid violence, in fact, one of the vows you take at your monastery, forces you to avoid it at all costs. With recent events, though, it was rarely possible.

You did your best to knock out foes who couldn't be convinced of letting you or your team fulfill their task, sometimes it also included tying them up, but other times - like with the goblins - the dangerous, bloodthirsty creatures wouldn't just listen to anything else, but their cult of the Absolute.

You walk to a campfire and grab a few dry sticks, snapping them in smaller pieces, just to place them on top of a few cinders. You lean to the side and reach for a metal kettle, then approach a rain collector nearby your tent. You had a few water bottles already filled up, but you decided not to waste any drop of the leftover water. Your team will soon have to relocate this camp either way. All you had to deal with was Gortash and well... the Netherbrain.

When the kettle is set above the fire, with some gorgeously smelling tea leaves inside, you rub your temples in a circular motion, trying not to think about Orpheus and The Emperor. You decide to focus your mind on a slight hunger that you feel and approach a bag with the camp rations.

'Up so early, soldier?' you can hear Karlach's voice behind you, her heavy steps marking their way through the grass.

You look at her above your shoulder and smile, happy to see one of your best friends.

'Hand me over some of those pork ribs, will you?' she requests and you do as she wishes, taking out her desired breakfast.

'How are you feeling this fine morning?' you ask, your face still turned towards the camp supplies. You manage to find the pork ribs wrapped in a preserving paper, a few bread rolls and a baked vegetables spread.

Karlach sighs and you look at her with a slight concern as she crouches down next to you, accepting the meal from your hands. In exchange, she takes the kettle from above the fire and carefully pours delicious green tea into a few metal cups, clearly awaiting the rest of the team to join the breakfast.

'Like I'm running on fumes.'

The sound of her voice grasps your heart in the coldest of embraces. Your mind recalls how Yurgir, Raphael's minion himself noticed the poor condition of Karlach's engine - only by its scent.

'We need to kick Gortash's ass... I hope I will have the fuel to face the Netherbrain as well,' she chuckles a bit to reduce the dreadful tension hanging in the air. It doesn't help. Not really.

'Karlach, I know what you've told me and...'

'I am not going back there.' She looks at you seriously. 'That place... Tav, you have no idea. I swore to myself I will never place a foot in Avernus again.'

'I don't have to know from my personal experience to realize how important that decision is for you. I only... I wish there was something I could do about that.'