Lon stood at the tram stop, watching the carriages pass by, silently evaluating them.
«That one's quite beautiful… And that one must be comfortable to sit in.» — he noted to himself, examining the two carriages that had stopped nearby.
To him, trams were an unusual and even mesmerizing form of transportation. Deep down, he nurtured a small wish — to ride in a carriage and experience the spirit of antiquity firsthand. He longed to understand the world he had found himself in more deeply and feel its nuances.
The carriage — one such nuance.
Lon had lived for decades in a world of technology and automobiles. For him, the old iron machines had been mundane, evoking nothing more than indifferent acceptance. But the carriages and other curious contraptions of this world were something else entirely.
Even that steam-powered kiosk he saw in Pigeon Park had struck him as utterly unique. He had never encountered anything like it in his previous life, which only increased his desire to try it out.
And that was only the first steam-powered machine he'd come across since leaving the hospital. He didn't know how many more such devices he'd encounter in the future, but he was certain — there would be many.
Lon thought to himself:
«I should've asked Donald for one dzon instead of fifty gors. Then I could've gone home in a carriage instead of a tram...» — He shook his head, acknowledging his mistake.
Renting a carriage in the Green District cost twenty gors. A manageable sum, and he could've easily afforded it if he'd asked for more money. But he hadn't thought of that at the time, and now he faced a small but annoying problem.
He had only thirteen gors left — not enough to pay for a carriage ride. He had to accept it.
The inability to afford what you want — a bitter feeling.
About a minute remained until the tram arrived. The whole time, Lon simply stood and observed the "wealthy" northern street of the Green District.
Soon, he heard the chime of bells signaling the tram's approach, and he turned his head toward the sound.
A two-story tram in excellent condition pulled up to the stop. It was clean, well-kept, and looked quite respectable.
When the tram stopped, Lon boarded and took a seat by the window, waiting for the doors to close.
The tram rumbled, and a puff of steam burst from its pipes — the steam engine was working. The machine set off toward the next stop.
With an unreadable expression, Lon watched the scenery flickering past the window. Some sights amazed him, others didn't.
The tram was headed toward the northwestern part of the Green District — the location of the Habott family home.
The northwest was considered one of the best parts of Seon: not as pretentious as the north, and not as rundown as the south. A true embodiment of the middle class, to which the Habott family belonged.
Photographs of houses used to illustrate newspaper articles about middle-class life were often taken here. They looked neat and aesthetic. Northern houses were too ornate, more like palaces, and didn't fit the image of the "common resident."
As the tram moved, Lon contemplated his next steps:
«This will be my first visit to Renvel's house. Even though his memories clearly show how he lived there... I still feel a sense of disconnection, like I missed something.»
«And I feel a strange melancholy. Even though nothing bad has happened... Maybe it's Renvel's influence? I wonder why I didn't get any new memories while walking through Pigeon Park... I was hoping that visiting places important to Renvel would trigger something. But it seems I was wrong.»
«In any case, the main goal now is to learn more about this world and its inhabitants. Because of my ignorance, I couldn't understand the true cause of the eye pain. Even though I pieced together a fairly logical theory, it doesn't negate the need to study the world more deeply.»
«And I absolutely must learn about the Woven...»
«Santi supposedly had a personal library with many books, which he hardly ever used. I hope he won't mind if I take a look. After all, he is my younger brother.» — Lon smiled warmly and turned his gaze back to the window.
===
When he reached the right stop, Lon paid the fare and stepped out, adjusting his top hat.
He stood on the sidewalk, looking at the street with mixed feelings. He knew he wasn't from this world, and certainly not from this street… Yet, in his soul, he felt a strange blend of sadness and joy.
These streets felt both painfully familiar — as if he had grown up on them — and at the same time, utterly foreign.
He tried to shake off the emotion, sighed, and shook his head.
«Whatever I'm feeling — it's just someone else's memories. They have nothing to do with me.»
«I am free.» — he thought, gazing up at the sky.
Lowering his eyes, Lon slowly began walking down the street, occasionally glancing at buildings and shops.
The street itself wasn't much different from the one he'd seen in the northern part of the Green District. Everything was similar, just slightly less perfect. A tree-lined alley stretched along the road, and shop windows displayed goods in wide panoramic panes.
He walked slowly along the sidewalk, studying the shopfronts, until he noticed a strange wooden building wedged between two normal houses.
It looked so out of place, as if it had been teleported here after the rest of the street was built.
The wooden house looked extremely old and damp. Its walls were covered in mold, and the wood appeared rotten and neglected, as though it hadn't been cleaned in hundreds of years. Above the door hung a sign that read: "Welcome to Grendel's House!"
And although the building clearly stood out, passersby seemed not to notice it. They walked right past, as if it didn't exist at all.
Lon stopped and stared at the house with a frown.
The air around him felt different. People became blurry silhouettes in his vision. He felt as though he stood on the other side of reality.
«What the...» — he tried to touch a passerby but passed straight through them!
That was impossible.
«Why am I phasing through them?! Is it because of that house?» — Lon thought in panic, staring at the building again.
It stood just as before but radiated a strange, alien aura. Everything else was normal — except this house. It felt like a glitch in reality, something that shouldn't exist.
Lon even thought he heard a faint whisper in his ears. The voice was hoarse, broken:
— Come in... Come in... Come in...
A chill ran down his spine. He felt a fear like never before.
«I… I don't want to go in...»
But the voice grew louder:
— Come in! Come in! Come in!
Lon squeezed his eyes shut, trying with all his might to calm himself, but his body trembled.
«Calm down... calm down... What is this voice?! Why is it in my head?!»
Gripping his cane tightly, he was ready to defend himself if necessary — though he sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that.
He slowly approached the house.
The voice in his head gradually quieted… until it vanished altogether.
«Finally...»
Stopping at the old door, Lon took a deep breath and thought of everyone dear to him. Then he reached for the handle and opened the door.
From within came a confident male voice:
— You finally managed to open it. It took longer than I expected.