Only yesterday Emilio was staring outside at the crowds, his imagination weaving dreams of a life where judgment did not cling to him. Now he was alone, with only a bag and a few meager coins to his name. 

The Sanatorium, the only home that Emilio ever knew, was now a fading vestige at the edge of Cabianca’s historic district. Walking through the cobbled sidewalks sparked memories of his childhood, previous to his binding to the Rime Hart– however faint it was. 

 His experience with life in the city was little to none at all. At a young age, before Emilio turned, he only went out on several occasions with his late-family before they passed. After turning into a Coldfell, the sisters of the Sanatorium seldom let him wander the streets– let alone leave the vicinity of the institution. 

Emilio gaped at the winding streets and passing crowds. He felt as if he was in another world– stories that he’s read about daily life. Cabianca stood as a relic of the old world, a city stuck in a time capsule while the rest of the country was beginning to move past. The city was riddled with italianate architecture, hugging the busy streets of carriages and people alike. In the historic district, many of the buildings were going under a form of restoration to make the city more appealing to tourists– with many of the former abandoned buildings becoming a sought after place to reside in. 

A sudden jolt disrupted Emilio's thoughts as a horse-drawn tram chimed, racing past him as water rushed up to the pavement. He jumped, avoiding the splash of water by a hair. His heart pounded, if it had gotten onto his skin it would’ve burned it right off. It was a stark reminder of his vulnerability in the city.

Emilio did not intend to follow the Mother Superior's advice, the thought of it upset him. In his mind, the Arcanium would be just as much as a prison as the Sanatorium was– now only adding the fact that they’d likely only view him as a test subject rather than someone with a mind. 

Maybe he’d catch a tram to another part of the city, find a cheap place to stay the night– if they’ll take him. He continued walking through the streets, following the distant chimes and looking down at a street map for the nearest stop.

The horsecar’s distant screech echoed, a haunting melody that rang in his ears. Emilio quickened his pace, his gaze fixed on the tracks ahead. The doors opened to reveal a dimly lit compartment. He leaped onto the stopped transport, and took a seat. The gaze of other passengers met his, their expressions a mix of fear and judgment. He could hear concerned whispers, and he felt uneasy. 

The horses began to pull at the vehicle, slowly tugging the tram along the rails. In the distance, buildings loomed over the gray skylines. One particular one stood out amongst them– The Arcanium. The more he traveled, the closer he seemed to get to it. It seemed to watch Emilio, as if it was waiting for him. The Mother Superior’s proposition still itched at the back of his mind, but Emilio tried his best to push it away.

A group of youth, a girl with a mullet and a boy covered in pimples among them, boarded at the next stop. Emilio felt their eyes on him, the distinctive features of a Coldfell drawing their attention like moths to flame. 

“You lost, frostbite?” The pimpled-boy hollered, “I think you missed your stop.”

He swaggered over with a grin. 

Emilio's jaw tightened, but he remained silent. The trolley's occupants averted their eyes, unwilling to be ensnared in the confrontation. 

“Would be wise to get off, Coldfell.” 

“Yeah,” The girl chimed in, “Your kind ain’t welcome here.”

Emilio’s heart ran as the two kids surrounded him, still not saying a word. It was inevitable however, the boy grabbed his shirt and pushed him to the side. Emilio tried to fight his way out, but the girl held him down. They kicked Emilio, knocking him out of the tram as it was moving. With a tumble, Emilio hit the hard stone. Emilio winced, his body aching with bruises and cuts. He felt dizzy, only the distant laughter of youth taunting him. 

After catching his breath, Emilio slowly picked himself up. He was naive to think that even a tramway would be a safe way of traversing the city. Everyone would only see him as a freak, an undead nightmare meant to have passed a long time ago. 

But maybe, there was hope yet. Emilio still had questions about his condition, why he’s still living when the Rime Hart should’ve reclaimed him all that time ago. And he could only think of one place that would give him answers. The Arcanium was only several streets away. Something was guiding him there, by coincidence or not it seemed that was his only option. 

The district where the Arcanium stood emerged in the distance. Emilio's footsteps quickened, the imposing doors drawing nearer. He paused, gazing upon the towering structure. The Arcanium was a menacing sight to behold, standing out against the italianate architecture of the city. Unlike the historical Sanatorium, it appeared more modern. He grabbed the door handles, and gave it a knock. Much to his relief, it opened. His inevitable path led to a man peeking out and looking at Emilio.