However, that wasn't on Isaac's mind. He was still dwelling quite hard on the loss of his team member; the agonizing shrieks of a dying man that had in moments become trapped in a personal oven thanks to the efforts of a magic-induced firebomb. His eyes were distant, and Thaddeus saw clearly into them.
"Something you wish to talk about, Isaac?" he asked gently. Isaac had become somewhat of a second son to him, showing great promise as a member of the Society. He was genuinely concerned with the young man's ability to cope with the grievous situation he had endured. However, Isaac merely shook his head at the question, remaining relatively silent, save his inconsistent breathing. Thaddeus sat forward, prompting Isaac's attention to his amber eyes.
"I know what it's like, Isaac. It's never easy, and you never forget. I still remember the times I failed my men; still feel like a failure at times for not being able to keep them alive..." he trailed off, either recollecting his memories of such events or allowing the fact that he too had once stumbled and fallen in his life to sink in. "But it won't do to break your own heart over it every waking day, my boy. You don't have to forget, and you don't have to get over it. It will always be at least somewhat painful. But you can't let it consume you."
His comm. pinged in that moment, and he turned to answer it quickly. "Yes?" he practically demanded. "Sir, the woman from the gate is waiting in the lobby. Do we have any Hunters free to go?" Thaddeus looked up, seeing Isaac begin to rise from his chair. He held a hand up, motioning for the young man to sit back down.
"Vincent isn't currently tied up. I'll send him out."
"Understood."
Terminating the call, Thaddeus returned his attention to Isaac. "If you need to talk to me about it, Isaac, my door is always open. You don't have to work through this by yourself." A moment of seemingly perpetual silence lingered between them, Isaac keeping his gaze to the floor. Then, he released a heavy exhale, his head raising to meet Thaddeus' gaze. With a slow intake of breath, he proceed to pour his heart out...
---
He sauntered through the University, a black longcoat trailing behind him. He wore a longsword on his back, and carried no guns at all. Stopping in the lobby, he scanned over the room with his large, brown eyes. He was a tall young man, his skin a perfect ebony tone. Spotting a nervous-looking woman across the room, who he assumed to be the client, he began to walk towards her.
"Noella Lemieux?" he began, "My name is Vincent Dixon-Ardelean, Hunter, at your service. I understand you have a haunting problem."