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Stacy. A name. It was easy enough to look up in the database. A fallen death hunter, killed by various children, students. Messy clean up- and one Siren, distinctly involved. The report was muted, giving brief mentions of who and what. The living didn't care for the dead. Only what the dead left behind and Stacy apparently, had left behind a mess.

Yet it was enough to have Solia going to the haunted house, looking for the site. Seeks the past. Not her own, but Israfel's. Israfel, who remained silent through the research, through her wanderings of the haunted house. Ending only with a sad sigh as they reached a damp room with a caved in roof.

The place where a hunter had died.

The siren's emotions fluctuated, knowing and unknowing. Knowing why they were there, that he was connected somehow and yet- knowing he didn't know why. He'd been an accessory to a murder. Yet willing or unwilling? He felt regret, shame, helplessness- yet what was from the location, or just what he thought he should have felt?
Solia wanted answers, Israfel simply wanted to know why.

"Hello?" While Solia doubted there would be anyone else, he gaze was on the debris, seeking anything informative of an event years past. Time did move oddly in halloween after all.

I do not remember.

The words Israfel had said but hours before lingered. He wouldn't remember. No weapons had ever reported remembering anything prior. Yet things lingered. Things stained them, triggered them, marked them as living once. They held emotions of the past. And the past is what she sought. Solia sought that past, that lingering connection. What bound them, what chained and linked them to things?

What was the limit to which they might retain?

The dim light only proved worse the further in she walked, resorting to summoning Israfel to use his glow to illuminate the path of wreckage. "Anything?" She asked out loud of her weapon- the siren's response was nothing, nothing until she saw the stain, the light of runes and roses dimming and flickering as the siren felt a rush of sickness. A moment of distinct anger and helplessness. "...... You really were here then." Her voice was softer, the weight that her weapon had once been alive, a part of something finally given more a shape. More a reality.

"Israfel.... did you...." her grip on the bow tightened. She doubted it. She doubted a hunter killer would have joined, evidence pointed otherwise but-
I do not know.

She wanted facts, and the place was only drawing more questions than anything.

Pain exploded in her back. Sharp, intense, she fell forward, catching her fall with the bow, slashing out when her brain caught up with her body, attack back, instinct following training. The cry she'd emit loud, yet knowing that likely no one who would an ally would be near.

She was alone, and now she'd pay the price for that. "Who-"

The darkness had never been the ally of Hunters. Only the friend of the shadows that haunted them.

HP: 38
DMG: 6
Charge: 1/3

The sight of a reaper had her hesitate. They looked human. The more human, the more she hesitated. It made them harder to fight, to hurt.. to possibly kill. "You-" She was about to ask why when she saw the eyepatch, the shape of his face was the same. Brief an encounter might have been, he'd been the one who given her this thread.
"You know something." He was here and while Solia didn't think of fate, things did sometimes happen for reasons.
"You did something."

It was not a fact she knew. A guess. A chance of chances as she fired an arrow, the runes on Israfel flickering as the siren's emotions conflicted.

HP: 36
DMG: 3
Charge: 2/3

If he did then she wanted answers. Just a few. Enough could do, would do. Enough to have a ground to start digging further. All she had right now were threads, and threads were easily cut. What she needed was the cloth, the cloth to unravel.

"Then answer me- what part did he, what part did Israfel play here?" Did he kill? Did he condone? Or had he simply been a tool. He was a tool now- yet had he been like that before hand as well? Just a tool?

The line of thought, that the siren was a tool cut the siren, runes flashing before nearly going out as Solia fired another arrow.

Solia was a seeker of answers in the end. It was her will, not his. They shared a great many links- yet a shared will was not such a thing.

HP: 33
DMG: 2
Charge: 3/3

Confirmation, she shot another arrow, even as Israfel was meekly asking her to stop. He wanted answers but to risk her, to risk hurting herself was too much. Wasn't enough to know he'd been there? To hear it from a source? He didn't know anything so why, why bother to drag it up?

Because in the end, he deserved to know what he left behind. It was his right to know what he'd sacrificed. Yet, it was also her job to ensure that there were no regrets. And his regrets were her regrets. The circle as her mind worked, was reflected in them, so they had to find answers together.

"If he was a part of this, then I need to know how. The reports say nearly nothing. He's nothing but a name to them." Another arrow. "He's more than a name. He was more than a name, and he deserves to know what happened to him. He deserves to know his own past."

HP:30
DMG: 3
Charge: 3/3

He had a point. Yet Solia had narrow vision- focusing on what was in front of her, and in that moment, it was the reaper in a room that held possible traces of a life Israfel had left behind. "Even so, unless I can know the past, I won't be able to stop what will happen." She'd never stop the killing, the fighting. She knew that, yet she had to try. She had to at least try.

"A traitor to whom? Or rather who's ally did he become?"

Israfel was silent, part of him knowing the answer. He'd chosen. He'd always chosen. That was how he'd been turned, even he knew that much- it had been his choice.

That much he knew.

HP: 23
DMG: 5
Charge: 3/3

That arrow had found its mark more soundly. Shun grunted as it struck him and he gripped his blades more tightly as a result. Letting out a breath, he kept his good eye trained on her, crouching down and poised to strike at any moment.

"You should know the answer to that already."

After all, Israfel was now a literal weapon being used against him at this very moment.

Just as he said the last word, he sprung, aiming a stab to her thigh.

HP:31
Damage: 7
SoS Charge: 3/3