Ezra remained rather quiet as Stare ran through her assessment of the souls inhabiting the homunculus' body. The kenku had implied that they had their own soul. Their own, actual soul. Not Ezoreth, not the demon, but Ezra themselves was a true being on this plane of existence. They furrowed their brow, trying to ponder the probability of such a thing occurring during the spell. By all magicks they were aware of, it should be impossible. One cannot simply create a soul; the fact that Ezoreth was able to create one while attempting a soul transfer was so astronomically small the Fates themselves had a better chance of appearing on the material plane and offering everyone candy.

Something wasn't adding up.

"I am not aware that I have my own soul. By my knowledge, I should not have my own soul. I was designed to be a host for Ezoreth's soul via alchemy and, according to your observations, demonic magicks. And I have never heard of a demon creating a soul, but demonkind has been noted to have layers of hidden secrets and unknown powers. It could be possible, in theory."

They paused, tilting their head slightly.

"And Ezoreth was not a god. He was a mortal, like all of the other inhabitants of Althanas." At the hand extended out to them, Ezra stared at the avian's outstretched arm for a long moment to almost admire the difference in physiology between them. They carefully placed their hand into Stare's, then gently squeezed it.

"Greetings, Stare. I am Ezra, but you already know this. I currently reside here in Stonevale. I suppose we can start with two simple questions: How did you meet Nevin and what is your relation to him?"