One could say that if a man speaks too much, the words he says lose meaning with each sentence. But that doesn't matter and the author only added it because he couldn't think of anything better.
In the meantime, it had become dark. The last spectators had disappeared from the marketplace for hours and Adán and Quincy had been so absorbed in their conversation that they didn't notice how slowly the night arrived.
"So do you mean it's possible that the oracle is Yasmin, but she has a different name in this reality?" Adán asked inquiringly.
"Yes." Quincy answered, conscious of his words. "And it can also be that the oracle just happens to look exactly like her."
"Why don't you ask me?" came the voice of a young woman from behind the two.
They turned slightly startled and saw a woman in silver robes and almost comically appearing many pendants.
"Who are you?" Adán asked her gruffly and made no effort to show his displeasure at her appearance.
"Oh my, who's going to be so rude?" she cooed artificially and after a deep breath continued with her answer: "I am Yasmine. And I must say, I am touched how you discussed for hours whether I am the oracle. Come, I'll show you a place where you can relax."
She waved with her right hand in a gesture that meant 'come with'.
Quincy and Adán stared at each other helplessly.
"Do you know what she wants?"
"No."
"Say," Quincy asked Yasmine. "We don't know you. What do you want from us?"
She was not very happy about this. After all, she had heard clearly how the two had whispered about her - so why did they now act as if these gentlemen did not know her?
"Excuse me?" she was outraged. "What do you mean, you don't know me? You've been talking about me the whole time!"
She crossed her arms.
Quincy replied in a calm tone: "No, we were talking about an oracle named Yasmin. We don't know you."
(At this point I would like to mention that the characters are all one-dimensional, because I haven't made up my mind yet about how they really are - well, I'll make up my mind, otherwise we'll just spin in circles.)
"Oh." She averted her gaze, then seemed to accept it and walked away.
Adán and Quincy continued their conversation.
"Say, Adán, how did that foreign-looking symbol on your cloak come about?"
Adán scratched his beard, rubbed his eyes, and took a deep breath before answering:
"Hm. Well... uh... yeah. Why are you interested in that?"
The latter was obviously an attempt not to have to answer the question. And it worked...
...not.
"Come on, tell me." Quincy really wanted to know, because he was simply curious and aside from the recent past - or future depending on how you see it - this was a great distraction. In general, he enjoyed talking to the old Adán. In turn, Adán sighed and began to tell him: