Closing his eyes and yawning, the weary boy readied for slumber. Itzal's keenness to interact with what remained of the Seraphs wasn't enough to stop him from dozing off; however, the talk between the Seraphs was more than enough to wake him. Although he would have loved to rest, the candlemaker got out of the homely sleeping bag and opened his eyes just enough to see what was happening. The tired teen started to take in his surroundings, which comprised of: beds, his raven awkwardly walking around on the floor, and the two that call themselves the Crowleys. They looked and—from what he had heard—acted frighteningly; now knowing the brothers would be his allies, he grinned.

His black eyes darted around for a bit until Akriel spoke, and the birdkeeper's attention was now directed towards his fellow Seraph. The shadow's eyes were wide open and he listened intently, his lips curling as the discussion shifted to assassinating the ninran figure heads. The idea of letting them experience the same agony that his brother had filled his mind before the princess started to speak. Itzal listened just as keenly to Azrael and gathered this much: the princess is really pretty. 

"I was a candlemaker. Still am sorta." He replied then opened his bag and pulled out a medium sized candle whilst smiling. The boy looked at the rest of them wide eyed, curious as to what his allies were up to during those two years.