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Wide windows hung along the side of the railway compartments, allowing one to relish the mist-covered sights that pass by. Regions with a sparser quantity of Misty Bamboo had less mist, leading to a better view.
Moreover, after a while, the railway passed along the coastal line, allowing the passengers to witness the changing Northern Lakes.
Each compartment spanned a length of forty metres and a breadth of ten metres, significantly wide. There were four seats per row, situated on either side, two per each.
The seating arrangement was done in a manner to mimic balconies, with long, open windows that allowed the wind to brush past their faces while they travelled along the refreshing journey.
Situated in the centre of the compartment, spanning a breadth of three metres was the walking space, acting like a corridor. Doors were situated on the corridor, with each door leading to a room of four seats—two rows in total.
Walls were separating every two rows among the balconies. This way, there was a good level of privacy maintained for the passengers. Train staff moved silently along the corridor and served to passengers seated in the balconies on either side.
Skateboards seemed to be their preferred mode of travel as the staff expertly moved using them while pushing forth large trolleys full of food. A staff arrived at a stop before a certain door and knocked once, "Your food has arrived."
"Please enter." Wittral's grumpy voice resounded, egoistically irritated, but still awed by the arrangements.
The staff entered and laid a table between the two rows facing each other. In this balcony section sat a bald youth in his early twenties, a bald woman similarly aged, a woman with shoulder-length hair that seemed a year or two younger, and finally, a seven-year-old girl.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtHe expertly placed all food items on the table, affixed the table to the balcony rails to prevent it from moving, performed a casual bow, and made his exit. He was a professional.
"It seems a bit awkward to eat like this." The woman seated opposite Inala introduced herself with a cheerful, outgoing tone, "I'm a tailor who goes by the name Hayaya. And this is my daughter, Lannla. We are making a trip to Fentan City for sightseeing."
"What about the both of you?" She stared at Inala and Wittral, shot a glance at their bald heads, and revealed a brighter smile, "I'm extremely curious about your past, if you don't mind me asking."
"We're refugees from the Rumtara Kingdom," Wittral spoke, having a better impression of the woman before him as she was the first person in the Brimgan Empire who hadn't shot disgusted looks at their bald selves.
"I'm Wittral, and this is my…Amita." Wittral fumbled a bit towards the end, behaving like he had a cough to continue speaking, "We became citizens just today. So, we're heading to Fentan City to start our business."
"That's wonderful. Fentan City is indeed a business center." The woman, Hayaya nodded and asked, "From what I know, Rumtara Kingdom follows a somewhat similar culture to the Brimgan Empire. So, forgive me for my frankness, I know it's a bad habit, but I'm just too curious."
"It's fine, please go ahead." Inala took the opportunity to speak.
"Why are the both of you bald? Is it a fashion statement?" Hayaya shot a string of words, "But I notice that you both don't even have hair on your eyelids. Doesn't dust get into your eyes in such a case?"
"It's because of a Pranic Beast attack." Letting out a sigh, Wittral began to recount their fabricated tale. Inala urged him to tell in an effort to prepare him for the lie. Say it enough times and it'll sound natural. So, the responsibility fell on Wittral to speak about their past.
"That's one scary Praic Beast." Hayaya said with a trembling voice, "I don't think I'll be alive if I were to come across it."
"We're glad to have survived." Wittral smiled gently, "Being bald isn't an issue. I'm sure we'll be able to find the medicine that can cure us."
"I'm sure you'll be able to find one." Hayaya nodded as her eyes shot to the side and slapped the back of Lannla's hand when the latter extended it to the food, "Manners, child."
"I'm hungry, mother." The seven-year-old girl, Lannla patted her stomach with a pitiful expression, "You'll talk nonstop for hours once you start. I can't go hungry for so long. My friends already tease me for being too thin."
"You talk too much, brat." Hayaya felt a headache.
"It's genetic." Lannla huffed and helped herself to the food, "Food doesn't taste good when cold."
"Well, she has a point." Wittral laughed at the banter as he stared at the girl, 'Such a cute child she is. Would it be this refreshing to have a child of my own?'
'What's this?' Inala suddenly felt goosebumps for some reason, frowning as he stared out but was unable to determine the reason. He took in a breather and ignored it, 'Maybe I'm just too stressed.'
'Let's focus on the food.' Thinking as such, he distracted himself with the sights and peacefully ate the food. It was good to empty his mind once in a while. It was refreshing.
"She's not much of a speaker, huh?" Hayaya eyed Inala and commented while staring at Wittral.
"Well, she usually needs some time to warm up to someone," Wittral said and continued the conversation, since it was refreshing to talk to someone who didn't mind his state of being.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmRather, through experience, he felt that Hayaya was simply maintaining a conversation to pass the time. Therefore, the topic of discussion remained light and the mood was fun. As he didn't like to reveal any secrets, especially since he had a lot to hide, it was stressful to calculate every word being uttered. But since they simply bantered in subjects of no value, it was relaxing.
He didn't have to think much for a reply.
As the conversation continued, the atmosphere was jovial. Wittral became more and more open along the journey, feeling like he had finally found someone who could be his casual friend.
Inala joined the conversation from time to time but mostly remained a listener. His eyes were closed as he eventually fell asleep, sleeping without a concern in the world. Usually, he remained alert before strangers, but that wasn't needed here.
"My shop specialises in selling clothes for women." Hayaya said and took out her business card and presented it to Wittral, "It's a new venture, but we're confident in our quality."
She winked and gave a knowing smile in Inala's direction, "You could gift her a beautiful set of dress. I'm sure she'll appreciate your gesture."
"Oh, she will?" Wittral's eyes lit up in response as his face became serious once he judged that Inala was asleep, "Go ahead, I'm all ears."
"Listen, you shouldn't stop at a set of clothes. It'll be better to pair it with a pair of designer sandals that match the outfit. Skater sandals are the trend these days. Pair it with a long gown, and she'll look gorgeous." Hayaya said and pulled out a scroll from her handbag and revealed it to display a variety of pictures of clothes and sandals, "We have the latest trends with us."
"Oh! Ohhh!" Wittral exclaimed in surprise as he saw the various designs and imagined Amita in them, getting excited in response as he thought, 'Do I have enough money to buy them all?'
A moment later, he made the decision, 'I'll just earn it if I need more.'
Observing the entire fiasco from the side was Lannla, controlling her urge to roll her eyes as she stared at Hayaya, 'Her acting is better than Dad.'
The mother and daughter pair were none other than Asaeya and Gannala, having coincidentally purchased accompanying tickets to Fentan City, their current appearances vastly different from their original selves. Using the same technique Inala used to change his skin to look like the Boar King at the Dralh Sea, Asaeya and Gannala formed new identities in the Brimgan Empire.