Yawning Naph woke up from a dream. It was etched within his mind.
"Stupid dream. As if that could ever happen." He cursed his sweet dream for showing what he wished for.
He straightened his back as he sat up on the upper bed. The ferry was still moving, he could see that from the glass window of the room.
Glancing at the time. The clock read ten minutes past six. He had woken up early.
Dangling his legs off the bed, he listened in on the waves as they swam past the ferry. It was peaceful. The scent still held that of a metallic room, and dirt.
'Hmm, Bulwark still hadn't begun rotting.' His thoughts on the scents went to deducing Bulwark's condition. He gazed at her, his face blank than they should be after waking up.
Naph skitted to the end of the bed and jumped down on the floor. "Who takes the stairs? Am I right, Bulwark?" His heart wasn't in his empty words. 'Maybe she'll respond.' A random intrusive thought climbed forth.
He slapped both his cheeks. "Nope, not happening. Not now." He reeled in his intrusive thoughts.
Leaning on the back of his four wheeler ride, he began wearing his shoes. Anaphol took them off before climbing on the bed. For him, it did not feel right to soil the bed way too much.
Sea foam splashed onto his room's window glass. Before the next splash happened he had wore his shoes and put on his neon jacket.
Turning back and searching through each nook and cranny of the upper foldable bed, he drew out the daggers he had hidden before he went to sleep and two three barrel revolver guns near the pillow. Putting them all in their respective places in his neon jacket's pockets and the ride's compartments, Naph was done with his preparation.
He folded back the table he had jammed into the side of the four wheeler peddled ride. Bulwark was picked up and put on the upper bed for couple of minutes as Naph took the ride out of the room. He put Bulwark in before checking if someone saw him in the gallery.
The gallery was empty. "Hmm." He noticed that.
Putting a white tarp over the ride and Bulwark, he adjusted the duffle bags to make sure to hide her well. Naph pushed on his ride, passing over two pipes on the floor to reach his designated ride parking spot in the cargo hold.
A few crewmembers had come down to inspect the damages to the wagons. When they heard a ride being pushed in to the cargo hold, a few turned around to intercept it. There were protocols for dealing with on-board assembly and parking area stealing for rides and vehicles. But one of those were from the crewmembers that were here when Naph boarded the ferry, and this one recognized him. Cold sweat broke out the man's skin, he was afraid of his crewmates upsetting Naph.
"Sir! We had been looking for you!" He called out energetically. "I am Dockhand Hetrick. We thought your ride had been damaged to ruin and we were looking around for it." He pointed to the white tarp covered four wheeler Naph was pushing along, "Is that your self-made ride, sir?"
Naph answered, "Why, yes!"
In his mind an inference arrived, 'so they are avoiding the rumour to be confirmed. Well, I can play along.'
"I was too busy in working on my ride." He patted on the white tarp pushing it to the spot his ride was parked at in the beginning. "After eating the tortillas by Chef Gusti I came down straight. Couldn't just leave my ride alone now, could I?" His lips rose up along one side higher than the other as he smiled.
Hetrick's crewmates were surprised by his choice to engage, and to name himself even before getting the passenger's name. They had their suspicion but his hint through the mention of a 'self-made ride' caught their attention. Few understood whom they were about to question, and the others who were a moment late were saved by the own deduction in a minute.
Each arrived at the same conclusion, 'the boy in front is probably the source of the rumour of Anapahol on board.' Everyone was advised by the captain not to engage in checking the truth of the rumours, but here was Hetrick risking everything for his crewmates' sake.
Naph's acknowledgement and patting his ride only helped along in resting the case that he should not be approached.
Rumours are a mysterious beast, one people don't have an understanding of.
The upcoming few minutes went by in silence as the rest of the crew and Hetrick went back to checking on the wagons and other vehicles. Each found enough reason to skirt away.
Thus came the final whistle of this journey. A sonorous reverberating metallic whistle echoed through the ship and its surroundings marking its arrival safely on the port of Central Monite in the Island of Monite.
Gangplank numbered 10 during Rentilaco's stop of the ferry was re-numbered here with 12. Anaphol descended its ramp while the sweet wafts of air rustled by him, inviting him to the closest restaurants and parlours set up in the port.
The sun was setting behind the mountain range in between the Island of Monite. Naph's eyes were lit up with the orange that contrasted against the sparkling green filled with tiny sparks of light.
A marvelous sight, one Naph had only heard of from the people that visited The Outro Restro.
Several streets led away from the port of Central Monite. And each one had a board on it, as people exited into it, with words plasted across "Welcome to Central Monite, Traveler."
Naph chose one of them and navigated the crowd that was leaving the ferry. He did feel the gazes of the crewmembers of the ferry. Glancing back he saw the same young adult he spoke to holding the same book with the map of their continent as its cover descending one of the gangplanks. The man was followed after by a few people in black and brown coats, Naph had seen them in the lounge cum library of the ferry. He didn't make much of the situation.
"I guess, people will follow whomsoever fits the bill or pays one." He did not care to approach the young adult with that specific book. He could have for the man wasn't far away, but Naph walked as he pushed along on his ride. Escaping the rush of the crowd to the port city of Central Monite.
Noise of the port left behind by his speedy escape. He was assaulted rather by the evening shouts of the market.
"Ah, something I can handle. What do you say, partner?" Querying his passenger, Naph felt a bit insulted by his own quip. He couldn't place the why but he felt it was wrong.
The market of Central Monite felt different and worked similarly yet in a unique way to the markets of Rentilaco and Sevenren. There the shops were most often found in the market to be of a closed door category. Here in the meanwhile, shops and stalls had the difference of few things.
Shops of Central Monite had an open front with a reception and walk in area, while the moving stalls were glass encased and the crowd of each stall stood around in a semi-circle. This was different than how the shops in Rentilaco and Sevenren preferred more of a closed front acting like they were part of the residential buildings above them if the shops sublet. Whereas the stalls and moving wagons were used by few poorer sections of the society to run their businesses while dodging the beatdowns by the local police in case of a violation of unknown category.
Naph noticed the dissimilarities while the police officers and wardens walked among the crowd navigating them away from flocking and flooding the shop. They rather made sure a shop wasn't pickpocketed from one of its probable customers.
Reminiscing about Sevenren's market reminded him of the words by Shrik. It was he who had forced on him to take Bulwark.
"Why do I still have to carry you?" He pointed at the group of duffle bags in his passenger seat. "I should have ditched you in the bushes of Sevenren."
A few heads around him showed a slight reaction via a raised head. He controlled his outburst, but he contemplated more about why did Shrik push him to take Bulwark along him.
'And then, there's Extea's words. For Bulwark. What did he mean?' Naph's memory of the message fresh, while his nose took in the smell of the desserts in the market.
'It doesn't make sense!' He kept his mouth tightly shut while he held his own monologue over the decision, but he felt different glances landing and leaving off his body.
Naph pushed his ride along through the street and took a left to a broader main street. He needed to find a resting place, but his mind questioned more of the reasoning behind the words, 'For Bulwark.'
He couldn't place his doubts on the reason away.