Sky of Paper: An Asian Steam-Driven Fantasy Tale

by Matthew Seaver

  "I'm sorry Master, but if I may be so bold, it isn't."

  The smoke from his pipe was especially thick, and being downwind from him, I felt myself engulfed in its stench. In the mornings and afternoons, he always smoked a strange herb that gave off a sweet, pine-like smell, but in the evening, he relished in a kind of tobacco that smelled much like burning cow chips. My eyes watered slightly, but I managed to keep my focus, drawing the line with as much care and precision as I could afford.

  "You will have to be satisfied with just that for now. There are things at work that are much greater than you can comprehend. But don't let these idle worries distract you. Keep to your studies. Keep to your training. Then, when everything unfolds, you will be ready."

  I was far from happy with his answer, but I kept my thoughts to myself.

  Another moment passed, and with hardly any warning, I put the chalk down and turned to face him.

  "Are you finished already?" he asked.

  "I've drawn as far as I can Master Ichiro. I can't go any further."

  He gave a doubtful grunt and approached the wall to inspect my work. Afterwards, he picked up a leaf and released it into the air. The leaf followed the line exactly, fluttering through every zigzag and curve, until it reached the middle of the wall where I had ceased drawing. To my own amazement, it stopped dead in its path, then fell to the ground.

  "You are indeed a special student," Master Ichiro said, tracing the line with the end of his pipe. "You may even be the first in your class to graduate to the River Temple."

  He made a suspicious sound in his throat, then waved me to his side. As I looked, he pointed to a segment of my drawing where the line abruptly shot upwards, then curved down steeply to the end.

  "It has been a while since I had seen someone draw a conflicting line as large as this," he said ominously.

  "A conflicting line? What do you mean by that."

  He emptied his pipe, then pulled a tobacco pouch from his sleeve. He spoke as repacked his pipe.

  "If you believe in what fortune tellers have to say, then you would probably understand that the images chalked on this wall are also a reflection of life. Here, where the line zigzags, then climbs skyward so suddenly is called a conflicting line. The higher it goes, the greater the conflict that awaits you. Yours is among the highest I have seen in a long while.

  Also, your line hardly stretches an eighth of this wall. What all of this means, is that your passion shall live only a short while, then you will endure a great struggle, only to have everything come to an abrupt end."

  He gave a gruff chuckle as he relit his pipe.

  "But that’s only if you believe in what fortune tellers have to say."

  "I don't know if I can believe any of that," I said. "After all, it’s just a line. Still, I think there are some fortune tellers that have some power in this world; a way to make things come true. My seeker was a fortune teller. I asked her to predict my future and she decided that I should come here."

  "Your seeker was pretending to be a fortune teller. Those whose duty is to find people with special gifts, hide their professions by pretending to practice another. Try not to be distracted with predictions of the future and other superstitions. This wall is as much a fortune teller as I am your uncle."

  He took a great big puff, then exhaled a satisfied sigh, allowing smoke to leak from his nostrils and mouth.

  "Let’s talk about more important matters. Master Hotaka and a few members of the Imperial Cabinet have decided that they would like to attend the upcoming review. But they cannot come to the event until next month. Because of this, your test is being postponed."

  He sat down and continued his study of my line drawing, as if casually reading a book.

  "Your test shall be next month," he continued. "But that is no reason to ease up on your training. You will continue just as you have these past couple of days. I want you to be my most advanced student, the one that I can rely upon. Can you do that Terr?"

  "I‘ve been told that this is a test for failing students," I uttered solemnly. "If I am to be your most advanced student, why am I doing this?"

  The Boar turned his attention towards me, then lifted his eyebrows as if he couldn‘t make sense of my words.

  "Who told you that you’re failing?"

  "No one, which is why I don't understand-"

  "If no one told you that you’re failing, then you have nothing to worry about. Don’t worry about what the test is for, but rather, think of it as a chance to prove yourself."

  Before I could say anything else, he got up and pulled a piece of cloth from his sleeve, wiping away my chalk line.

  "This line has nothing to do with your future," he said. "It does not do you well to give in to superstitions. Instead, think of your future as this wall, blank and without features."

  Chapter 9

  Spring had come, and in the days that followed, it seemed that winter was in such a rush to leave it had forgotten to take the snow with it. All around, budding flowers and bright, shimmering grass burst from the snow-patched grown. The trees too, seemed to be aspiring to become like the everbloom tree at the Wudan wall as their first leaves peaked out from their barren branches.

  Though the world was changing, I had no time to stop and admire it. Training was to be where all my time was spent, and the people that watched over me, made sure that I did not forget my duties as a student. Kassashimei had made it a habit to wake me every morning. She was always in a rush, quick to grab me by the collar or sleeve and pull me down the hallway, like a dog that refused to follow its owner.

  I had come to realize that she was also a strangely spiritual person. Everyday she seemed to be appeasing some kind of spirit by dressing differently or warding away bad luck by uttering some eerie chant. One day, her hair was adorned with ten pony tails and she wore bracelets that had feathery fox tails dangling from them. She explained in detail that she was giving tribute to the ten tailed wolf that protected the plains animals and tended to the forest trees.

  She knew more about spirits, curses and blessings than any priest I’d ever known. Sometimes I even questioning whether or not the things she believed in were either truthful or something she’d completely made up.

  On most days, Etsu attended my morning training. As for her reason for being there, she told me that she was making sure that everyone was properly carrying out their duties. I wondered, however, if her true reason was to watch over Kassashmei and I, and break up our constant, petty arguments.

  As for Han and Kidou, not a single word was uttered to them about my morning training, even though the temptation to reveal my secret was hard to resist at times. I had accomplished so much, more than what was allowed for such a fledging student, that I felt a strong need to share with them, my incredible experiences. The surreal excitement of taking a sky boat into the air, of bonding with my very own shyo mah, these were moments worth boasting, and yet, none of my classmates would ever know of the extraordinary privileges that I had been honored with.

  Masa and I hardly ever spoke to each other outside of class. I rarely saw him in my dorm, except at night, and by then, he was already asleep. He still continued with his pranks, stepping on my feet during Kaikua class or stealing my tamma and hiding it when I wasn’t looking. Han made sure to report his misdeeds, but most of the time, they were largely ignored. Instead of reprimanding him for misbehavior, they continued to scold him if his performance and studies were shown to be lacking. Even though he was idolized when he did things well, the teachers were quick to swat a stick or lay a firm hand if he slipped by even the smallest measure. With all the attention that Masa was receiving, I decided to forget about Master Lu’s request that I look out for him. After all, I had little reason to respect that horrible man or his selfish demands.

  As the days continued, my abilities steadily improved. Even though I was nowhere near as skilled as Lai and Mai, I had learned to carry out the basics of their teachings almost flawlessly. Kassashi
mei and I were better attuned with each other, and as such, we learned to levitate and move rocks, pebbles, even tree trunks, all with noticeably improved precision and grace. Eventually, we found ourselves flying the sky boat move up and down and across the tree tops without so much as a single crash. Even with our successes, Lai and Mai emphasized that this was a slow, patient process, so we were forbidden to move the boat along any faster than a crawl.

  After training, there was always the task that I’d dreaded most, serving tea to Master Lu. After learning of his daughter's death, I began to understand the reason behind his bitterness. I’d never known any other emotion from him other than contempt and dislike, especially for me. From the rumors I’d heard, he was once a stern, but understanding man, but from what I’d seen, he seemed to be a crazy, sometimes fanatical person, and each day, it got worse.

  "Rune. Wasn't that the name of your village?" Master Lu said one morning, pacing about the highest floor of the main hall. "I saved you, took you away from that disgusting place and you still haven't thanked me."

  "Please forgive my thoughtlessness," I said quietly, bowing my head. "As always, I am thankful for the opportunity to serve you, and even more so, for giving me the chance to be here at the Imperial Temple."

  I was groveling, and I hated it. But there was some comfort in knowing that many of the words I was forced to say were not my own. Paya had drilled me every chance she had as I prepared the tea each morning. She made sure that I knew the proper things to say when in Master Lu's presence.

  In truth, I was angry that he had insulted the place I had known all my life as my home, the place where my friends and my dear sister resided. It was a if he made a daily sport of making sure that I was grateful for having been rescued from the poorest gutter in the nation.

  I would have lashed back, but in respect for his daughter's passing, I let him writhe in his depression and regret, and took whatever insults he had in store for me.

  "No, that’s not what I want to hear," he spat. "Thank me for freeing you from the poor man's life, thank me for taking you away from that place of peasants and beggars. Thank me properly."

  "Master Lu," Paya said in a concerned toned. "Perhaps you shouldn’t have been so quick to get out of bed this morning. Last night's meeting at the tea house with the general has left you still a bit drunk. Please, let me escort you back to your chambers."

  "No. I want him to get down on his knees right now. Say it boy. Say that you’re grateful, that you’re indebted to me for all the sacrifices I made for you."

  He sauntered towards me and took me by the collar. I gasped as he shoved me down to my knees, causing me to drop the tea tray and its contents onto the floor.

  His breath smelled vaguely of sake and beer.

  Paya rushed to his side and grabbed him by the arm. She whispered what seemed to be consoling words into his ear, then gave me a stern look.

  "Leave," she said harshly. "Get out."

  I did as she said, pulling myself free of the man’s grasp and hurried out of the room.

  As I exited the main hall, I saw Ai, who was crossing the bridge towards me. An elderly woman was guiding her along by the hand.

  "Who comes this way?" she asked, alerted by the sound of my approaching footsteps.

  "It’s just a young student miss," the elderly woman said.

  We both paused and faced each other. Though she seemed to stare past me, I was transfixed by the aura of her ghostly eyes.

  She must have known who I was, because she said ", how is my father?"

  "He's very angry right now," I blurted.

  "No, I don't think that's it." She seemed unmoved by the bite in my voice. "He's just sad."

  A feeling of outrage simmered in my belly, and the lifeless expression on Ai's face served only to fuel my emotions.

  "And what about you? Your father’s crazy, your brother hates this place and your sister is dead. Don't you feel anything?"

  She frowned, then turned her head away. For a moment, I thought she was going to say something, and secretly, I hoped she was. I wanted her to reply with equal anger. But without a single word, she bid the elderly woman on and the two continued down the bridge.

  I returned back to the temple dorms to find everyone rushing about, muttering to each other excitedly. At the other end of the hall, the students of our class gathered like birds to bread crumbs, shoving at each other's shoulders.

  "Class is starting soon everyone!" Han's commanding voice bellowed above the crowd. "You all can see him as much as you want later, but for now, everyone has to leave and report for morning lessons."

  I clasped one my younger classmates, Ori, by the shoulder.

  "What's going on?" I asked.

  "It's Kidou," Ori said. "Something's happened to him."

  "Happened? What's happened? Is Kidou ok?"

  "No, he isn't," Masa blurted as he came out of our room. "He's changing, in the same way that all of us will. I heard him yelling a moment go, screaming out that he's gone blind. I heard all sorts of crashing sounds, and then a great big thud, like he’d fallen. I do hope that when it’s your turn Terr, that your moment is just as agonizing."

  "Stop it Masa," Ori said hesitantly. "You shouldn't say things like that."

  "Oh? Well I've seen this happen a hundred times before, and each time they tell me that it's extremely painful. With someone as weak-looking as you, I suspect you'll be crying like a whimpering dog all day long."

  Ori shied away, hurt by the insult.

  "What happened?" I asked again, at the edge of losing my patience.

  "See for yourself," Masa motioned towards the crowd.

  A moment later, Han shoved his way through, pulling Kidou behind him, who stumbled about in a daze. He was rubbing his eyes furiously as if trying to force out an irritating bug that had somehow crept its way under his eyelids. His face was covered in tears and he seemed to be sobbing.

  He briefly moved one of his hands away and I caught a brief glimpse of one of his eyes. It had changed color, from purple, to a bright, gleaming yellow.

  "Terr, there you are," Han said panting. "Make sure everyone gets to class. I'm taking Kidou to Master Ichiro."

  I nodded and he left the building as fast as Kidou would allow him.

  "Kidou, how does it feel?" I asked later that evening as I entered his room.

  Han and the temple physician stood over him as his body lay cradled on top of his futon with a cloth over his eyes. The others stood just outside the door, murmuring to each other. It was just as well. Throughout the day, none of us could concentrate on our studies as we worried about our classmate and grew anxious about the eventual fate we would share with him.

  "It doesn’t feel like anything. It just itches a little. Other than that, I'm fine," Kidou replied. Though his voice was filled with conviction, his body betrayed his confidence by shaking in a sickly manner, sweat gleaming off his cheeks.

  "I knew I would be the first," Kidou continued. "I knew it. It won’t be long before my eyes turn green, and then I’m sure to be the first in the class to move on to the River Temple."

  The physician removed the cloth and opened his lids, carefully inspecting his eyes.

  "What do you see?" he asked Kidou.

  "I can't see anything," Kidou blurted, surprising the physician by sitting up.

  Kidou rubbed away at his eyes and darted his head about, as if he were afraid that at any moment, some creature would take advantage of his helplessness and pounce him.

  "Crazy child, don't do that, " the physician said yanking his hands from his face. "Now lie down before I strap you to the floor."

  "Better do as he says Kidou," Han said with a chuckle. "I've seen how rough doctors can be with disobedient patients."

  Kidou did as he was told. The chatter outside stopped, and the students cleared the doorway as the Boar made his way into the room.

  "How is the student?" the Boar asked.

  The physician packed his bag and prepared to l
eave. "He’s fine. The blindness should clear up by tomorrow, and by then, he should be ready to resume training."

  "Very good."

  The physician bowed respectfully to the Boar, then proceeded down the hall.

  "Well then," the Boar said, turning his attention to boy lying on the floor. "Quite a surprise you‘ve given us. I most certainly didn’t expected you to be the first."

  As he spoke, he gave me a suspicious glance. I shied my gaze away slightly.

  "How does it feel," he continued. "To realize that you’re finally making progress."

  "Well, it itches and it stings a bit." Kidou reached up to rub his eyes, but was stopped by a sudden slap on the top of his palm by the Boar's pipe.

  "To people like us, our eyes are like precious, flawless opals. Smudge, or scratch them and they no longer have any value." The Boar turned to Han. "Watch him. Make sure his eyes remain shut. Do not let him touch them, scratch them or disturb them in any way."

  "Yes Master Ichiro," Han replied respectfully.

  The Boar got up and headed towards the door giving me a small, nod as he passed by. As soon as he left the students piled into the room and gathered around Kidou's prone form, muttering with cautious excitement.

  Though Masa pretended that such an event was a horrible, fearful experience, it was in fact, an omen of better things to come; at least for some of us. Immediately after Kidou's change, our class became separated between those whose eyes were purple like mine and the others, whose eyes had turned to more advanced colors.

  One, then two other students soon joined Kidou and like a great, unseen wall, a noticeable divide formed amongst us. They were given their own rooms, were made to eat at their own side of the table, and even their clothing had changed.

  Master Ichiro presented a golden silk sash to Kidou and the others after they had recovered from their change, to mark their new status. Kidou was as proud as ever, and even though he continued to express his usual, serious demeanor, Han and I saw him smile more often than we were used to.