The party left their base and walked out onto the street. The sun blazed down onto their faces, while the sound of bustling voices passed by.
'So tell us, old guy, where is Paramount Manor?' asked Giorgio.
'It's as far North as one can get, located in the largest mountain range on the planet: Mont Klein.'
'I've heard of that place!' Sancho interjected with great excitement, 'Isn't that where
Caesar fought Mikan Kahn?'
'Precisely so. It is said that their battle lasted ten days before Caesar was ultimately crowned the victor. Their battle was legendary, and Mikan proved to be a worthy opponent; so much so that Caesar named the place after him.'
Giorgio became lost in thought, his mind drifting away to some far-off place. He reminisced on the past, whilst the present grew clearer. 'Of course he's tied up in all this… no matter what, Nero always ends up chasing Caesar's shadow…' He murmured to himself.
The old man stopped and reached into the pocket of his long robe. He pulled out a tiny, leather pouch, tied at the top with a gold string. He took Alonso's hand and placed the pouch down onto his palm. It was surprisingly heavy compared to its size and took Alonso by surprise.
'In here is enough to procure the four of us placement upon the 4:35 ferry down at the dock. Take it, and get us tickets for Santa Grenin.'
Alonso opened the pouch slightly and saw a pile of gold coins reaching close to the top of the seal. He was astonished to see so much money; this was the equivalent of several months' worth of wages. How had this self-proclaimed homeless man acquired such a fortune?
'You two,' the old man said, turning his gaze towards Giorgio and Sancho, 'I wish for you to accompany me; there is something I must get before we depart.'
'What is it?' Giorgio asked, but he got no answer. The old man had already started to walk away. Giorgio and Sancho exchanged puzzled looks before catching up to the old man.
Sancho gave a final look behind his shoulder and watched Alonso walk in the opposite direction towards the dock. They still had over an hour before the ferry was to leave.
The old man was leading them behind tight alleyways and streets that neither of the other two had even been aware of. Light struggled to pass between the closely knit buildings, and it grew darker the further they went. The city was always lively and full of colour; murals painted the sides of buildings, and flowers accented the stores' faces. That made wherever they were now seem otherworldly and nightmarish.
The party did not speak until the man finally stopped before a short staircase leading up to a door. It was almost hidden in the dark, only visible from its silver handle. It sat unsymmetrical to the wall, placed almost at random on the side of the building so no one would notice.
'Both of you, wait for me here,' he said as he walked up the staircase and through the door.
Giorgio caught a very brief glimpse of complete darkness within, yet a faint, purple glow could be seen slightly, desperately trying to escape the room.
'This guy… he's weird.'
'I don't trust him,' replied Giorgio, his eyes squinting as if trying to decipher their location.
'Say, Giorgio, is it really possible for us to beat Nero?'
'If what this guy says is true about his projection, then maybe we can get there before him. But, if we were to face Nero, I don't think he would hesitate to attack us; after all, this is what he's been waiting years for.'
Giorgio hung his head low, while Sancho tensed his entire body with fear and worry.
'This is just like before, in Gaul-'
'No, this is way worse. I don't think I can stop him, now; his projection is fully realised, and Eos has awakened her divine gifts. A part of me is almost sure that he will win and kill us all.'
Sancho shuddered at Giorgio's words, for he had never known him to admit defeat and show such uncertainty in his own ability before.
They stood in silence, but for a prolonged amount of time, for the old man still had not returned. Giorgio was growing suspicious and considered barging through the door and finding him. He tapped his foot in annoyance with great speed, trying to ease his temper and grow in patience. But it wasn't working. He charged up the steps towards the door and reached for the glimmering handle, only for it to turn downwards just before he made contact with it. The door swung open and slammed into his face.
'Sorry for keeping you; where is Giorgio?'
As the door oscillated back into its resting position upon the frame, Giorgio's glowing red face was revealed to the others.
With a mix of both anger and embarrassment, he yelled, 'WHAT THE HELL, OLD MAN! FIRST YOU TAKE AGES IN SOME DARK, CREEPY ROOM DOING WHO KNOWS WHAT, THEN YOU HIT ME WITH THE DOOR!'
The old man chuckled with great fear, sweat dripping from his brow. 'You should have been more patient, Giorgio, my business is very important.'
'WHY YOU-'
'So what did you get?' asked Sancho, trying to deviate and save the old man from Giorgio's growing rage; 'I don't see anything in your hands.'
The old man looked down at his empty palms, whilst his eyes grew wide with an expression of forgetfulness. He laughed again in nervousness, 'Ah, yes, they did not have what I needed, unfortunately'
'Then, how come you were in there so long?'
'Yeah, what's the big idea, old guy!'
'Come, come. Is it illegal for a man to catch up with old friends? I know the owner of this establishment; I simply came to procure something, then decided to converse in friendly chatter after finding out they did not have it.'
He smiled through his teeth, a grin wide enough to cover half of his face. He brushed past the two and signalled for them to follow with his hand.
Giorgio descended the stairs and stood beside Sancho. The two gazed down the alley at the man, both with excessive suspicion on their minds.
'He's hiding something… about this place, too.'
'Perhaps Alonso knows something about this place; I mean, he's always saying he's been everywhere.'
'Try to look for a store name, or the street. Then, we can ask him about it later.'
As they walked down the alley, they looked around for a street name and at the front of the building, in hopes of seeing a sign or something that would allude to the old man's motive for going. Yet, there was nothing. The building's front was a tiny, wooden structure with filthy windows to cover it. Remnants of dark blue paint could faintly be seen, and gold, metal letters sat unaligned above the door. They read, 'Babishea', with rust covering most of the letters. Neither of them had heard of such a place, and could not assume that this was a traditional store, but an asylum of forbidden goods, run by an illegitimate source. They both took a visual diary of the building's countenance and alleged name. They became uneasy.
'I have a bad feeling about this guy…' whispered Sancho.
'Me too, but we need him if we want to beat Nero, so just go along with it for now.'
They had fallen behind the old man in their focused analysis of the area to the point that he had stopped in his path in the absence of their footsteps.
'We must get to the docks soon!' he cried back at them, watching as they soon gathered their footing.
'Say, you never told us your name. I'd like to know who I'm gonna be travelling with for the next month.'
The old man hid his face as he smiled cunningly. He recognised Giorgio's relentless habit of perceiving things beyond their superficial being, and was reassured that his company was, indeed, perfect.
'Call me Yogi.'