"How do you come by purchasing that?" asked Cavander in an extremely agitating voice that was really beginning to bother Boyce. "I had gold -- so either say that you will give me help, in my moving into the house, or take your leave from me!" Cavander smiled but only a trifle. He knew that he had actually annoyed the son of Brook Scullion and he also knew that he could not give him an apology while in public. He had, therefore, kept the taxing down, from that point onwards, and agreed to have a few men help him whenever he needed them. Boyce and Lloyd made their way up to the Blue Mansion, after Cavander had agreed to give them help. It wasn't a long way to walk to get to the Mansion's door, but the once gradual path leading up to the top of the hill was now rugged and grown over with vegetation. The entire property was like this, from lack of use. For a decade, since the executions, no one had been known to go up to the Mansion. Even coenobites had, for some reason stayed away from it. But it didn't matter now, because it was all Boyce's again. They had finally made their way to where it all first happened. Boyce's heart beat faster and faster, the nearer that he came to the door. "Here it is, Lloyd!" Lloyd saw Boyce's excitement as he put the key into the lock and turned it. He also felt a certain presence looming over the entire hill, as soon as they set foot upon it. For Lloyd, this place had a different meaning then it had for Boyce. For him it meant the extension of his life which may have been cut short before he even had a chance to realize what life was. It meant the love and the admiration that he had for Brook and Dearborne, and this place was a reminder of evil's earthly triumph over good, through death. "Would you have ever believed that I'd be back here?" a tear issued from Boyce's eye as he spoke and Lloyd cleared his throat, trying to keep from Boyce his own feelings about it all. "It was predestined, Boyce!" he said then touched Boyce's shoulder to urge him to open the door and enter the house. Boyce hesitated for a moment longer then smiled a little, and with a sigh he opened the door. There was a sudden but slight whoosh at the door, as air rushed into the vacuum of the house. It was dark and quite cool inside the house, in comparison to the intense heat outside, on this particular day. There was also a foul smell within which would have been more suitable for a slaughterhouse. It was sour-like odour mixed with the linger type of stink of boiled chicken feathers. They walked into the huge entrance hall and looked around the bare grey walls, and at the cracked ceiling covered with cobwebs. "No wonder no one had come here since it was closed up!" said Boyce, his voice echoing far into the distant rooms, along with the clip-clop that their boots made on the solid wood floor. "With enough helpers it won't take us long to make it liveable, Boyce."