Solomon would keep an eye on Eustace as he'd hurried away, curious as to why he would leave during Applin's sudden reunion. His movements were a dead read that something stirred in him. Something that compelled him to run like this. He'd keep himself quiet and hidden as the Knight looked back. Once, twice. It followed this pattern all the way up until one of the buildings within the clay-like houses, buried far, far into civilization, having the populace be his mask. Solomon would grunt as he'd have Shady search in one area while he went in the opposite direction, being careful of any shadows due to the Knight's Magic. Having to look up and down, Solomon would see small slants on where the building's original structure laid, most likely an indication of weight from how clay tends to react under pressure on one side, pressing it inwards. He'd set up a plague of locusts to swarm around and poke into the building, allowing him to see cracks and crevices that were originally sealed.
An opening. A doorway.
The Biblical Sorcerer wasted no time, allowing Shady to call back and pull him over to avoid touching the shadow directly with his body, seeing the massive mass be like a bridge once the shadows intersected, though at the cost of the living Shadow's comfortability in being one whole being. He'd stomach it through, however, just for the sake of his companion, nay, 'son', to reach to the other side. Once the crevice opened up more, Solomon would be met with a dim light, as well as several photos and journals. Each one seemed to be about a family: A father, mother, and a son. The three felt in sync in the photos, one depicting them in a beachside, the son holding a massive ball and attempting to bounce it off of his buried father's head. One in which they were by a fireside, where the Mother would be reading the son a bedtime story, a messy face by the latter caught within it. One where his father and mother were laying on each other before a starry sky, with a small corner showing the son's pale white eyes, putting up two fingers to signal who took the shot. Each one was a memory, one that the Knight must've held dear to him.
Solomon slowly approached, bending his knees and sitting down in a criss-cross position, looking to his side and watching the Monster grip his sword's hilt. The clattering sounds between both blade and gauntlet were audible in the quiet, a small crack heard from below them to indicate his force. The Biblical Mage looked on and see the writings, chicken scratch for the most part, but also accompanied by more pictures. Drawings out of crayon, drawings of the family, up until one image. A drawing depicting a stick figure with a big sword walking away, leaving a smaller one sad and crying, a patch of red on its side. His eyes widen as he understood the implications, looking up at the Knight to see if it felt guilty or remorse. Such words were an understatement, as he stared at that image hard, small breaths coming in and out, not in rage, but fear. He was struggling to keep himself together, isolating himself in a room with nothing but regrets. Solomon took a deep breath and looked down again at the other journal entries, before speaking up. "I lost my parents, once..." He'd begin, stunting Eustace, a sharp shift in his body as he looked down upon the child. "...They did something similar to me, too."
"...They hurt you?" The Knight asked, worry in his voice.
Solomon nodded before he'd reach out and grabbed a page, seeing a drawing of the same figure with the big blade showing his wares to another, leaving the other, smaller stick figure confused, hiding behind a wall. "They didn't know any better. They thought making me smarter makes them better parents. They were trying to make sure I learn as much as I can before being met with the real world. It was agony, though... and I was scared if I brought it up, they'd be mad at me. They kicked me out when they noticed I didn't listen to them once. I lost them at that point..."
"...Those are not parents."
"I know..." Solomon could feel a cold palm over his shoulder, a strong grip in similar vain to his blade. When he noticed it, Eustace would try to ease himself, trying to not exact such pressure onto him. The Biblical Mage continued: "...But then I saw them again. I saw them become something else. They tried to kill me. They didn't know any better."
"What is there to not know about killing a life?"
"They were monsters, too. Someone tainted them to be far worse than what I had to deal with. Someone turned them." The grip was being stronger again, as Solomon looked up and saw such horror from the Knight's eyes, the yellow light being shortened and shimmering in the darkness. He'd give a small smile as he gave his last words. "In the end, they still cared about me, or at least attempted to. I don't think I could forgive them after what they did to me, and believe me, they tried to show me they're wrong. However... I'd rather have my parents live and simply understand they messed up... than die before me. I regret having to fight them. I regret having to kill them. The devil really does know how to break one's heart."
Hearing such a speech, the Knight's grip eased. He looked back at the crying image, his mind still clouded, but now with a proper purpose. A Light amidst the dark. A Shine to catch his attention again. "...I want to apologize to him. To her. That wolf... He is doing something I couldn't. Do you think I'm worthy of being accepted? Of being forgiven?"
"Doubt it, if that art is anything to go by. Though if it helps, I'd think he'd probably would. It's just a human flaw at the end of the day. If you understand you regret it... maybe he'll give you a chance." Solomon would get himself up and begin to walk away, hearing the clattering of metal behind him. Eustace was following behind, his conviction more sound than ever. His blind revenge has changed a little, a proper bite into the meat of the problem.