"Hello, little mouse."
She turned her head slowly at the sound of a voice spilling into the silence. Low, rumbling, velvety. Familiar. A ghostly silhouette froze still at the threshold, the stifling dimness of the room wrapping its paws around its statuesque shoulders, enveloping it, luring it in. Squinting, she tried to focus her watery eyes on the visitor. The man stepped in and leaned against the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. From the blurred veil, familiar features gradually emerged. Her breath caught as a wave of recognition erupted within her chest, rolling down her shoulders with a cold shiver.
It couldn't be.
"Haarlep?" she breathed out the long-lost name that came to life with a gentle rustle on her parched lips.
He grinned, stepped forward, and elegantly lowered himself onto the chair beside her bed. She could see him better up close. With uncharacteristic serenity resting on his fiendish cat-like features, he patiently allowed her to take her time observing him more carefully. Her gaze slid over his face, reacquainting herself with long-forgotten lines. She remembered his mocking, devilish eyes burning with orange flames. Now they looked at her with surprising softness and warmth. His lips, curved in a subtle smile, appeared to hold a sincerity that she hadn't recalled seeing before. The image of the flawless, deep red velvet skin, untouched by wrinkles, remained vivid in her mind. He hadn't aged a day. And how could he? This appearance, like thousands of others, was woven of incubus magic and forever preserved in time.
"Haarlep," she whispered again, savouring the taste of the name on her lips. "What are you doing here?"
He chuckled with a deep, guttural sound, each "ha" punctuating the air. The jovial laughter cut through the gloom of the chamber, resounding with mirth, alien to its sleeping walls.
"Well, of course I came to see you, my little mouse."
Haarlep gently clasped her small hand in his large palm, his sharp claws delicately grazing her wrist, and touched his lips to her shrivelled, thin skin.
"You're still as beautiful as ever, my dear," he murmured, not letting go of her hand.
She grinned and waved him off.
"You were always a terrible flatterer. Ironically, now that I'm a half-blind old hag, I can finally see that clearly."
"Oh, mouse, and you were always a terribly silly thing. I am an incubus. I was created to love, cherish and adore. I know about the matters of the heart and the allure of the body more than you do. Don't argue with me about beauty." Haarlep reached out and touched his hot palm to her cheek, running his thumb gently over the flabby skin. "Although your beauty has evolved, you still exude the same captivating radiance as the day you first ventured into my boudoir many years ago."
She closed her eyes for a moment, surrendering to his touch. Time-worn fragments of memories flashed through her mind, and she blushed like a girl.
Haarlep chortled.
"It's nice to know that a mere thought of me still makes your cheeks flush," he murmured playfully.
She laughed with him, but then a sharp pain shot through her chest and an invisible beast started ripping at her lungs with its jagged claws. She collapsed into a fit of dry cough that twisted her entire withered body. Haarlep, maintaining the same easy smile on his face, continued to hold her hand, waiting patiently. The coughing persisted, each spasm more agonising than the last, and when she could no longer bear the tearing pain in her chest, she choked on blood, dotting the white blanket underneath with disgusting scarlet. A viscid, bloody string hung from her lower lip. The regular reminder of her own weakness and helplessness weighed heavily on her shoulders, making her slouch and lower her eyes in shame.
Haarlep pulled a silk handkerchief from the pocket of her black, gold-embroidered vest and gently dabbed her chin.
She licked her lips, repulsed by the taste of metal on her tongue, and forced herself to meet his eyes again.
"You knew? Is that why you came?"
"Yes," he purred affectionately.
"But how?"
"Silly mouse, I know everything about you. From the moment you made a deal with me, we are forever bound. Have you forgotten?" he grinned.
"How could I forget? Not a month's peace even when I'm all old and grey," she grumbled with a smirk that was tainted with the remnants of subsiding pain in her chest.
"Guilty as charged." Haarlep waved his hands theatrically. "It's hard to deny myself such pleasure. When I make love in your form, it is truly... Delightful."
She shook her head, smiling at his naughtiness.
After a pause, she asked quietly, "Haarlep, can you show me?"
He smiled and closed his eyes for a moment. The room illuminated with a fiery glow that travelled in waves across his body. His form changed, flowing and shrinking before her eyes. A few seconds later, she saw before her a young woman with ash-coloured hair cut into an uneven bob. Her green eyes sparkled playfully and her plump crimson lips were stretched in a cheeky smile. Not a single wrinkle marred her youthful face, its contours perfectly defined. Her gaze burned with determination. She had her whole life ahead of her.
"I don't think I've ever been so beautiful."
Haarlep burst into a melodic feminine laughter. She shuddered. The sound was nothing like her current creaky old woman's voice.
"Little mouse," said her young reflection, "if I have managed to capture even a fraction of the inimitable original, I will already deem it a success."
Not knowing what to say, she looked at her younger self. The hopeful dreamer, the future heroine of Baldur's Gate. She did not yet know that she had two miscarriages ahead of her, after which she would never be able to have children. She didn't know that her husband would pass away twenty years before her and she would never love another. She didn't know she'd be choking on blood in this very bed, agonising day after day, listlessly waiting for the end to come.
As she continued to stare at the ghostly image from the past, more and more waves of vague memories crashed into her mind. The growing anguish constricted her throat with a vile lump, leaving her breathless, regretful, broken. A surge of self-pity filled her up and spilled out in tears that treacherously escaped her eyes, trickling down her cheeks and leaving wet marks on the pillow.
Haarlep raised his eyebrows and leaned closer.
"Don't cry, mouse," her younger counterpart gently stroked her decrepit cheek. "It has been a good life. You helped save Faerûn. You loved. You were happy. You laughed and made people laugh. You left an indelible mark in people's hearts that will never fade away. In my heart, too."
She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a tired intermittent breath. Silent tears continued to drop down her cheeks, spreading across the wrinkles of her skin. He was right. There was no point in crying. Not anymore.
Hints of sunshine filtered through the dark drapery, cutting the room with thin beams of light that buzzed with dancing dust particles. Spring's timid attempt to sneak in. She was afraid of draughts and the windows were shut tight, keeping out the sweet scent of apple blossom and lilacs. If the dust-soaked curtains scattered to the sides, if the creaking window sashes were to swing wide open, the chamber would drown in warm sunlight and the noise of the busy streets, the laughter of playing children, the scraps of bypassers' conversations. But she didn't want to hear them. She didn't want to be reminded once more of how her life had stopped long ago, but the world didn't notice it and continued its usual course, leaving her behind.
"Haarlep, can you do one more thing for me?"
He lovingly wiped away the tears from her wet cheeks.
"Anything."
"I want to see what you really look like."
Her doppelgänger froze for a moment, then flashed a mischievous smile.
"I have thousands of glamours, each one crafted from a part of me, and each one is real. All you have to do is believe," he said in a mysterious tone, making a graceful gesture with his wrist. When he caught her expectant look, he laughed lightly and added in a softer voice, "It's been a long time since anyone's asked me to do that, mouse. I don't even know if I can still remember."
He closed his eyes again and concentrated. Her miniature form melted into a fiery glow, remoulding, elongating. When Haarlep finished the transformation, she audibly gasped.
"I won't bother with the wings," he remarked in a silky voice.
Before her sat a young man with smooth fair skin, his cheeks kissed with a peachy-rose blush. Sleek warm brown hair cascaded over his shoulders, framing a thin face. His head was crowned with black twisted forward-pointing horns, one of which was adorned with golden rings. His facial features, soft and refined, hinted absolutely nothing of his devilish nature. And his eyes? She couldn't take her gaze off his golden almond-shaped eyes. Their colour was absolutely extraordinary, as if they were woven from liquid sunlight. He was handsome, but it wasn't a fatal beauty. There was no dangerous smile, no cat-like eyebrow pulled upwards. His beauty was... gentle. Innocent. Sincere.
"You are beautiful, Haarlep," she exhaled. "It's a crime that you're always hiding behind other people's faces."
Haarlep smiled, tucking his hair behind his ear.
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." He bowed his head slightly, accepting her compliment, and a strand of his glossy hair slid over his shoulder, catching her glance.
There was silence. He looked at her with his sunlit eyes, an enigmatic smile still playing on his lips. She scrutinised his face. Even though she'd seen it for the first time, its every feature seemed painfully familiar. It was as if this gentle image had always lived in her soul. It was her Haarlep. Not the one she remembered, but the one she knew.
Finally, she pulled herself together and asked the question that had been sitting on the tip of her tongue, drying her mouth, stiffening her lips.
"Have you come to take me away?"
"If that's what you want, mouse."
She took a deep breath.
"Will it hurt?"
"Not one bit."
She fell silent again. This was harder than she'd imagined. He didn't rush her. He understood everything.
"Haarlep?"
"M-mm?" he murmured with a smile.
"What is there, on the other side?"
His golden eyes sparkled playfully.
"It's a surprise, little mouse. Don't you like surprises?"
Her heart beat faster with agitation. If she didn't decide now, she knew she never would.
"I'm ready."
Haarlep moved to the edge of her bed and leaned over, his hands gently cupping her face. He looked into her cloudy eyes with a deep, penetrating stare. She opened her mouth and drew in an erratic breath, her heart pounding as if it were about to leap out of her chest. The sparkling sun in his eyes was mesmerising, and his closeness made the blood throb in her temples.
"Trust me, little mouse," he whispered.
Haarlep leaned down and touched his lips to hers.
She closed her eyes, and her world sank into darkness.
* * *
When she opened them again, she was no longer lying on the bed in her small chamber, but standing in the middle of a vast, sunlit meadow. In the distance, the rippled surface of a lake glistened with gold. The smell of fresh grass and wildflowers hit her nose, greatly contrasting with the stuffiness of the room she was in just a moment ago. The landscape in front of her was fabulous, unusually sharp and bursting with colour. The nagging pain in her chest vanished completely, replaced by an overwhelming surge of strength coursing through every fibre of her being. Her eyes darted down to her hands, and she saw elegant wrists and smooth, supple skin. Her palms immediately rushed to feel her face. No wrinkles.
She was young again.
Haarlep stood beside her. He was smiling, watching her, revelling in her amazement.
"What is this?" She asked in bewilderment.
He took a few slow steps towards her. Stopping so close that it made her heart race, he reached up and tucked a strand of ashy hair behind her ear, peering into the bright emerald eyes.
"This is the last dream, little mouse."
Haarlep leaned in and caught her lips with his again. The kiss, tender and timid at first, quickly swelled with feeling. His hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer. The taste of his lips bewitched her with sensuality, consuming her, making her dissolve into him completely. She shuddered at the thrill that clenched her heart and pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her breathing became more ragged with each passing second. Arousal blossomed in her lower abdomen, and feverish waves of sweet longing surged through her body. Haarlep's hands slid down her hips, then higher again, and crawled gingerly beneath her clothes, burning her delicate skin with his fingertips. She started to pull off her shirt, but he stopped her. He wanted to do everything himself. Wanted to adore her the way she deserved.
Covering her forehead, eyelids and cheeks with affectionate kisses, he slowly undid button after button until the soft satin slid silently onto the grass. Then Haarlep unbuttoned her trousers and jogged them down. Tickling pleasantly, the fabric glided over her thighs and pooled around her ankles. He gave her a hand, and she stepped forward, her bare feet shifting on the silky grass. A light breeze ruffled her ashen hair, gently licking her skin.
Haarlep swept his eyes over her naked body. There was a certain ethereal quality to his gaze, as if it held a deep admiration and a touch of reverence.
"You are beautiful, mouse. You always have been, and you always will be," he whispered.
As if in awe, as if she were a goddess, he knelt before her, sliding his hands down her sides. She trembled under his fingers. He leaned forward, and his lips burned her lower belly with tenderness, travelling downwards, causing her to exhale noisily and voluptuously. Finally, Haarlep buried his lips into her, digging his fingers into her thighs. Barely holding herself on the shaking knees, she ran her fingers through his silky hair and arched her back like a cat, pressing forward against him, savouring the way he worshipped her. With each of his movements, she clenched and unclenched like a tightly wound spring, emanating an irresistible sensuality that drove him mad. The thick scent of her own arousal tickled her nostrils. His insistent tongue slid faster and faster over her throbbing skin and when her heavy sighs turned into rhythmic moans, Haarlep stopped and raised his golden eyes to her.
"Lie down," he breathed.
She obeyed and gently lowered herself onto the featherbed of grass that tickled her sides. Haarlep's gaze lingered on her, brimming with affection, as he carefully unfastened the buttons on his vest, one by one. He could make the clothes simply disappear with a wave of his hand, but he knew that the sight of a man slowly undressing was immensely erotic to her. The edges of his satin shirt parted, exposing the peachy skin, and he let the garment slide off his shoulders. Biting her lip, she squeezed her knees together, watching his every move.
He stood before her, a finely chiselled sculpture - flawless and breathtakingly beautiful. She admired him, and he relished her. They loved each other, even if only for this brief moment.
Haarlep sank to the grass, resting on his arms, hovering over her petite fragile form. He kissed her again, sharing the spicy taste of her arousal that lingered on his mouth. His lips touched her collarbone, then his playful tongue slid lower to one of her small firm breasts, making a circle at its sensitive peak. She dug her fingers into his broad shoulders and arched her back again, now with eagerness and impatience. Wrapping his arms around her thin waist, Haarlep pulled her imperiously towards him.
"Look at me."
She obeyed again. Without averting his gaze, with one thrust of his hips, he became one with her, making her gasp.
Losing himself in the depth of her emerald eyes, Haarlep burned his breath against her crimson lips, thrusting into her with each intermittent exhale. She wrapped her legs around him, unwilling to let him go, savouring every second of this frantic love. And damn it, he loved her. Loved her eager hands caressing his back, her small breasts pressing against his chest, her wet heat enveloping and drawing him in.
Picking up the rhythm, Haarlep burrowed his nose deep into the base of her neck. His movements were feverish and almost frantic. He couldn't get enough of her, each thrust inside her reaching a deeper point of pleasure inside her.
Then the world went still for an instant, before exploding with colours behind her eyelids and drowning her in rapture.
Choking, she screamed his name hoarsely and clenched around him, trembling, her fingers clawing at his velvet back. Unable to hold it either, he arched up, pouring out with bliss inside her. Breathless, he kissed her lips, marking the climax of their lovemaking. But he was in no hurry to pull away. He wanted to be with her - in her - just a little longer. To bask in this euphoric afterglow.
Finally, they reluctantly let each other out. Still panting, he sprawled out on the grass. Her cheek rested perfectly in the dimple below his collarbone.
"Thank you, Haarlep," she whispered, tickling his chest with her breath.
He touched his lips to the top of her head and gently stroked her silky hair.
"I will never forget you, my mouse."
The next second, she gasped softly and brought her hand to her chest. He smiled.
"Well, it didn't hurt at all, I told you."
"No. It didn't."
He tilted his head and kissed her softly.
"Sleep well, little mouse. Sleep."
She slowly closed her eyes, and her body went limp in his arms.
* * *
Haarlep straightened, pulling his lips away from hers. His hands still cradled her aged face. He wasn't lying. She was beautiful. Her features were now relaxed, and her mouth frozen in a mysterious half-smile. Haarlep looked at the scarlet stain blurring on her nightgown and pulled the dagger out from her chest.
"Sleep, mouse. Perhaps we'll see each other again on the other side."
He kissed her forehead and headed towards the door. Just before he left, he paused, and his body enveloped with magic, transforming back into a young devil with red skin and fiery eyes.
He bitterly grinned, fixing someone else's dark wavy hair. There was no telling how many centuries would pass before someone would ask him to take on his true form again.