Head spinning was the least of problems Anaphol suddenly faced.
The main one was not the absence of Bulwark for him. "Come on! I am not going to show weakness in front of a child!" He laughed out in between his ragged breaths.
His hollow words hung in the air, the same way he truly felt about Bulwark.
Hanging.
He looked back at the very empty space above her severed neck. An impromptu hand went to his own neck, feeling it barely.
He insisted on coming back to reality through another gritty remark, "Hey Bulwark! Wouldn't a collar be a lovely present to you?"
Laughing at his own, he straightened out. Stretching his muscles up and sideways.
"Uh! Now that feels like I need some real rest." Naph's quirky behavior to talk out loud never amazed him nor did it today.
He walked all around his ride, undoing the bolts and straps attached to it by the crew earlier for safety.
Fitting the white cloth tarp better around Bulwark, Naph pushed the mechanical ride along the corridor to his room ever so silently.
One or two pipes did make into the path trodden by the ride.
It did not matter for the ride had better clearance below it than was required for crossing the pipes.
An unceremonious march of dead walked in the ferry from Rentilaco to Central Monite.
The compartment room 1006 was the same as a few minutes ago. Open and the lower bed folded.
"Come on, come on. Who wants to check out the upper bed?" He picked up Bulwark.
Her weight was lighter but he felt the pull of the ride. 'Cata immersion is weird. It let the ride stick to her but not with much intent.' He pulled free of the ride.
The sudden release of the extra weight made him take a couple more steps back to stop the recoil.
He was a step away from back wall. Looking back, "Now that's called luck Bulwark! If you had a head, you would have got a very big headache!" He whispered lightly.
Naph did not want some random idiot to walk into his room on suspicion or curiosity. His act of creating that was over. 'A few pursuers dead is all I needed,' Naph collected his thoughts.
Taking Bulwark in he placed her for the time being on the upper bed with the same white tarp for covering her presence since before the ferry ride.
A simple but effective way, if someone questions the why. The boy had a prepared answer, the same one he hinted at with the first ticket checker.
Tilting his ride in, he pushed it through door at a vertical angle almost perpendicular to the door frame.
Letting his ride settle better, he put the bags he had removed earlier and placed on the floor back into the ride's front and back seats. He was considering moving Bulwark into the ride but thought to let her be on the upper bed for a while.
He opened the side table to jam the ride well.
A feeling came back in him. Hanging.
Naph needed a few little securities, if he was going up leaving them both. Closing the door behind him with the key he was given by the last ticket checker he met.
He considered which path to take to go up.
Naph's decision led to the one the shadow controller had used. He climbed it with the same dramatic thuds.
"It is soothing. The thuds and silence." Nods affirmatively to the stylistic decision of his dead victim.
In the same rhythm, he ascended from a salty atmosphere to one filled with the aroma of spices and salt.
He recognized a few from them.
'Hmm, someone's cooked ginger to ash for driving away the seasickness.' Naph's intuition and limited knowledge on travel sickness kicked in.
He followed that smell.
Naph was on the lower deck of the ferry, his left side the vast sea. How was this still considered a strait was a concept beyond him.
He hadn't learned nor went to some educational institutions to be completely aware of how big and marvelous his own continent was.
What he was aware was the different kinds of territories in the nation called Confederation of Tarna. That was and is his home nation.
Which had chosen to declare him a martyr, a hero, a rioter and an insurgent, while adding dead as one of his other current status.
The rough look of the floor boards only added to the smooth effect they had with the boots passengers wore. He wondered, 'what of the boots crew wears? Do they also feel smooth?'
"Maybe this is a tactic to throw off the pirates?" Naph chose a possible effect as primary conclusion.
Breathing in the gingerly and salty mix of air, he walked across the deck arriving at the source of the smell.
"Ah, welcome, welcome! I haven't seen you, sir." A voice behind the counter from a dark skinned and lighter than sky hair colored man responded. "Were you taking a nap before this?"
"Something like that," Naph was no sir, but he accepted that small gesture. Nodding to him, Naph continued, "so whose idea was to start a fire burning ginger?"
"Ah! Your nose picks up quite the distinctions, sir." The chef behind counter answered, as he flipped one after the other meat stakes with veg patties.
He used different spatulas for vegetarian patties and meat stakes, Anaphol's noting every action down.
For the boy sought every possible new experience that could aid him.
"Why the different spatulas?" He questioned.
The man glanced at the boy raising a brow, "Oh! Is it your first? Let me tell you then!"
Naph was about to cut in that it wasn't his first time seeing people cook.
"I understand that you have lived your entire life seeing people mix in with the same utensils the vegetarian dishes and non-vegetarian dishes." He picked up both the spatulas showing it to Naph.
"That is a fine approach, but people have beliefs. And as a chef, I am obliged to make sure that their belief isn't trampled by the one who cooks for them." The man bowed as he explained.
Nodding to his explanation, the boy asked, "so, how about a menu, chef?"
"Chef Gusti, sir." Gusti waved the spatula for the veg patties. "As for the menu, don't worry of that. It is above on the board, look for yourself. It also details the temporary rations the chef wants to reveal of in case someone wants something special."
Naph looked up at the board. It wasn't much higher, he just stepped back a step. To have a better look.
Naph bumped into a kid. "Hmm?"
The kid just laughed away running as if nothing had happened. A few more ran after them.
It seemed for them that the smooth floors were the perfect place for tag game.
He glanced back at the board and took note of the few meat dishes, and a chef's special called 'Tortilla-Olive steak.'
He ordered the chef's special in the non-vegetarian dishes while asking a rather particular thing.
"Do you know how to make Rentilaco's famous street snack? The one with tortillas rolled?"
Gusti affirmed and said, "sure, how many you wish? I can wrap them up in the newspaper wrappings too, or normal white pages as well."
"I just want to eat them now, so no wrappings. But you haven't answered one thing I asked but before that. Could you teach me while you make the tortilla snack?"
He fidgeted as settling down on his seat in front of the counter, "I want to learn that."
"Sure sir, sure. And which question have I not answered?" Gusti continued.
"The one about the gingers." Naph smiled.
Remembering that he didn't explain, Gusti nodded, "ah! Yes, while I nor the crew have burned ginger on board. We had ashes of ginger packed. I just simmered them in water a few times. Thus the smell."
Insisting further to keep the conversation flowing, Naph asked a normal question, "so how much more till Central Monite?"
Chef Gusti looked behind him, nodding his head to another chef in the inside of the restaurant on-board.
A voice responded back, "somewhere between 3 to 4 more hours." The voice's owner stepped out of the back into the corner as he placed another dish on the inner counter of the front.
This dish was Naph's.
Gusti proceeded continuing the conversation flowing as he taught Naph the intricacies of a simple tortilla rolled filled with spiced potatoes and veggies.
He also taught him how to make the tortillas, showing him the three different methods to do so.
One a simple sphere getting flattened out using a dough roller. Then another where the dough sphere was flattened via hand with a slow rotating motion each turn to flatten it.
And the last was the fast one, to splash the dough sphere onto the plate, separate it slowly. And splash it on the plate again for the second time, and proceed to press on it with a different plate on top.
Naph chewed on his chef's special, as he watched the insisted tutoring he wished.