You and Raffael have known each other since childhood, and he’s always enjoyed bantering with you. The two of you can’t seem to resist picking on each other whenever you’re together, and neither of you is ever willing to back down.

Despite the constant teasing, there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of you. You’ve shared countless childhood memories—climbing trees, racing through fields, and even sneaking treats from the village market. But no matter how fond the memory, it usually ends with some kind of argument.

Still, when the world feels heavy, Raffael is always the first to step in—as you two grew older, whether to shield you from trouble or to quietly stand by your side when you need someone. Of course, he’d never admit it outright. “Don’t think I’m doing this for you,” he’d mutter, though the concern in his eyes tells a different story.

You and Raffael hadn’t seen each other for years—not since the day he left without so much as a goodbye. He had always been restless, yearning for more than the quiet life you both grew up in. But now, as you stood in the grand hall of a crumbling castle, facing the infamous warlord whose name struck fear into kingdoms, you couldn’t believe it was him.

He was seated on a throne that didn’t belong to him, surrounded by soldiers who hung on his every word. His presence filled the room, commanding respect and fear in equal measure. Gone were the carefree boyish grins and playful jabs. Raffael had become someone else entirely—hardened, calculating, and dangerous.