Sky of Paper: An Asian Steam-Driven Fantasy Tale

by Matthew Seaver

  To my amazement, there was another familiar face in the room. It was Master Ichiro, who sat amongst the rows of brass-colored benches that lined the back of the room. Both Madame Quoli and Miss Nishio were sitting beside him, making idle conversation.

  "Why is the Boar here?" Kassashimei asked.

  I looked at her suddenly, taken aback by the name she called him.

  "Isn't that what you call him?" She glanced back at me with a small frown, as if somehow offended by the look I gave her.

  "How do you know that?" I asked.

  "Did you know you whimper like a dog when you sleep? When you were passed out, you mumbled about a lot of things. And you mentioned his name quite a bit."

  She gave a triumphant grin that left me this time with the frown.

  Chimes rang sharply, signaling the end of a shift, and the chienkuu ko who had been so focused upon driving the ship, ceased their motions. They stood, and turned towards a certain monk, which they bowed respectfully to, before being escorted out of the room by their sword-bearing guardian. On their way out, the shyo mah gave Kassashimei a disgusted sneer.

  It was obvious my partner hardly looked presentable; so much so that some must have questioned her reason for standing in such a venerable room. Though the old man offered a chance for her to change and clean up, she refused.

  Her face was still smeared with dirt and grease, and she seemed all the more defiant and proud to be wearing her rubber overalls.

  Considering her company, she stood out like a misshapen piece of clay earthen ware, amongst a collection of fine china.

  The monk motioned for us.

  Instantly, I looked up at the old man, shocked.

  "We're supposed to fly the ship?" Though I had already sensed the answer, I found myself apprehensive.

  "Of course," the old man replied calmly. "Why else do you think we came here? If you're worried about us suddenly falling out of the sky, you need not be concerned. When the chienkuu ko leaves the helm, the barrier they've created continues to remain. As a matter of fact, it can linger for quite some time and keep the ship in the air for as long as an hour. And even if no one were here to take their place, the bubble would slowly deflate, and we would float safely back down to the earth. So take your time. Approach the summoning circle when you're ready. I imagine it will be sometime before the captain notices the ship losing momentum."

  "You mean the captain doesn't know what's happening?"

  "Well the monks do, and so do the caretakers of the ritual decks. They are, after all, close friends of mine. But as far as the captain and the rest of the crew is concerned, I, Miss Nishio and the others are simply guild officials on an inspection trip with you and Kassashimei as our personal servants."

  My head was swimming, unable to grasp the enormity of this moment. I regarded him carefully, wondering if he was truly sincere in what he was asking.

  "How can we do this? Kassashimei and I were only beginner students at the temple."

  From deep within his throat, came a small raspy laugh.

  "My dear little trout," he said. "The temple is for children who are unsure about their abilities; who feel they are not ready to do things they should already know they can do. They are sent there, because most doubt their skills. I have faith in yours, and you should too."

  I turned from his beady eyes as the intimidation of his presence left me in shame.

  Kassashimei, even with her dirty, tattered appearance remained confident, almost impatient. The monk, who seemed more like an ornament decorating the room, calmly acknowledged my approach. Kassashimei and I bowed, then he lead me to the summoning circle: a large, white ring, painted across the floor; a place for which the shyo mu was expected to stand.

  I took my place in the middle, while another monk sat Kassashimei on the floor behind me. Afterwards, they gently placed my tamma upon a tall, metal pedestal that sat at eye-level a few paces ahead.

  As was custom for some voyages, the monks rang the chimes and said a short prayer in blessing. Shortly after, a quiet stillness fell into the room.

  I glanced over my shoulder to the old man, still hesitant, still uncertain.

  He bade me on with a shallow nod.

  Slowly, my attention turned towards the glass wall.

  Outside, the clouds had mostly disappeared and all that was before me was a vast, unceasing ocean, glimmering as it reflected the sunlight overhead.

  My temple teachings had taught me that once I had turned, my second sight would come simply by will alone, and that my vision would be clear and unfettered. Even though I was no longer held back by the purple in my eyes, I hardly feel any different. Doubt lingered in my mind, so I eased myself slowly into my second sight.

  My breath heaved as a hand swiftly took my wrist.

  It was Kassashimei. She wrapped a small string of prayer beads around my arm, then gave a determined, almost compassionate look.

  "This will keep away the bad spirits," she whispered.

  As grand as the moment felt, the heavy pang of judgment declared itself with Madame Quoli’s impatient humming.

  "I don't have time for this," she said. "If all he's going to do is just stand there, then let's sell him off and be done with it."

  Kassashimei glared in a way that forced my attention to remain on her.

  "You are the moon king aren't you?" the girl uttered before stepping back to her place behind me.

  With a deep breath, I readied my stance and made myself sure of the control I had over my second sight. The prayer beads made a small jangling sound as they bundled up against my forearm.

  At that moment, I threw all my doubts away.

  With a single blink, the Ocean of Ki washed over me and the room quickly fell away like a thin, see-through curtain. The walls faded until they were transparent, revealing the mystic currents surrounding the ship and filling the sky beyond.

  All was clear.

  All was perfect.

  A bell rang and several brass dials at the base of the pedestal began to spin. One of them displayed the ship's current speed and the other, the desired speed. The captain wanted to go faster. Another dial also showed an order to raise the vessel higher.

  Instantly I went into my Kaikua, sweeping my arms and legs about as if starting a ceremonial dance, summoning Kassashimei to bend the waves and the currents to my will. A swell came towards us, and with my palms pressing steadily towards the ground my shyo mah obediently lowered the ether ahead.

  Like a glowing compass my tamma revealed the directions and the strengths of the currents and their flows. Soon the currents split into three, then four, then five directions at once. I jangled the beads on my wrist, then made the ship go just a bit higher where the currents were less numerous.

  I’d never felt such harmony.

  This was what it was like to have a purpose, to have a reason to exist. Kassashimei surely must have felt the same, because she followed the motions of my body with such precision, even down to the flexing of my very fingertips.

  All my uncertainties, all of my doubts melted away.

  Though the dials ordered the ship to remain steady, this was no simple task. The ether pitched and churned, all the while, presenting strange, turbulent masses smearing the sky ahead. While I was left to be concerned with these things, all the captain and his crew would ever see, were deceivingly clear and forgiving skies.

  Even so, I knew we were accomplishing a tremendous feat, for even amidst this chaotic, invisible ocean, Kassashimei and I made sure the ship gave hardly a pitch or roll.

  At the dials' request we made the bubble surrounding the vessel much larger, making it go higher still, aiming the ship towards the sun. Finally we were at a place where there was only calm, where my only concern was to keep our height while leaving the rest of the work to the noble engines and their constant, reassuring rumble.

  When the time came for the next group of chienkuu ko to relieve us, Madame Quoli stood up, hardly impressed.

  "That w
as all?" she uttered. "He and that girl made us go up and down a few times, hardly an act worth celebrating about."

  Miss Nishio's expression however, was eerily indifferent. It was as if she wore a blank mask, expertly hiding her true feelings. She left the room, while Quoli continued to whisper cryptically into her ear.

  "Madame Quoli was right," the Old Man said as I approached. "An average performance indeed. . . if this was your ninth or tenth voyage. This was an impressive display of skill, just as I had suspected. Perhaps now you see little trout, that a true chienkuu ko does not need years of formal training, for with your gifts, comes an inherent amount of instinct and ability." He glanced at the beads, wrapped around my forearm. "And perhaps a small amount of luck."

  It wasn’t long before I realized that I was shaking, my face beaming with pride.

  "The ship didn’t crash," I said sarcastically, barely able to mouth the words.

  Kassashimei burst out laughing, ignoring the accusing looks from the monks in the room as she disrupted the serene atmosphere.

  "What a stupid thing to say, " she chortled. "Of course we didn't crash. There's so much more to be happy about than that. Isn't that right?" She looked at the Old Man.

  "Yes. There's no denying that Miss Nishio will certainly be keeping you now. And of course, I will be keeping the money she's paid me on your behalf."

  He smiled triumphantly.

  To my surprise, the Boar was still standing among the benches, watching me. He gave me a light nod then turned to leave.

  I immediately went to him, but the old man gave me pause as he took my shoulder.

  "It’s best that you do not talk to him," he said in a suddenly serious tone. "He’s on this ship for his own reasons."

  As Kassashimei and I walked back to our rooms I found myself overcome with a sort of joy that I thought I‘d never experience.

  With my tiny, insignificant performance, I had somehow influenced a small part of my world. More importantly, it was the course of my own life that I had changed. I finally had a chance to prove that my life had worth, that I was standing on my own feet, and moving forward to a destination that was just a bit clearer.

  "The prayer beads," Kassashimei said quietly. "The beads I gave you. They're special you see. They can make all sorts of things happen. They can even give you courage. You do believe in them don't you?"

  She seemed so earnest, stricken with a sincerity she could hardly contain.

  "There's a reassuring sound they make when I shake them, " I replied. "When I hear it, I feel like I can keep going."

  "Then I was able to help you."

  "Kass, I haven't forgotten what you said when we left the tea house that day. You told me that you were useless.

  Well you're not. As long as I know that you're here, you're never useless. And I can only imagine what would have become of me if you weren't around. So I guess I should thank-"

  "No, don't thank me. Now is not the moment for that."

  There was a small, pleasant gleam in her eyes that told me she was all the more content; and that was all she needed for now.

  "The Boar?" she teased, changing the subject. "How could you give anyone such a terrible name?

  "Well that's what he looks like. Can't you see the resemblance on his face?"

  "Do I resemble a certain animal? The day you first saw me, you had an animal name picked out for me didn't you?"

  She gave me a playful shove.

  "No, I swear. To me you're just Kass, and that's all."

  Her face soured.

  "I don't believe you. I'm coming into your room tonight just to listen to you talk in your sleep again. If I hear you say, “Kass the monkey” or “Kass the rat“, then I'm going to take an ink brush to your face."

  I accepted her challenge and dared her to prove me a liar.

  To my surprise, she did visit my room that night, but for far more desperate reasons.

  Like so many times before, I felt her hand grab the collar of my shirt. After a sudden tug, I fell out of bed and moaned unhappily on the floor, before getting up and darting a fierce look in her direction. She plopped down and thrust her face in front of mine. She had a look of triumph about her, as if she were proud of some sort of recent mischief. She asked if I was awake, then rasped, her knuckle against my forehead to be sure. I groaned and told her to stop but she immediately slapped her palm against my mouth and told me to hush.

  "Terr, I did some exploring on the upper decks and you wouldn't believe what I found."

  Annoyed, I peeled Kassashimei's hand from my mouth.

  "Kass, we're supposed to stay on the ritual decks. What were you doing out there?"

  "You wanted to talk to the Boar didn't you? So I was spying on him, waiting for the right moment to get his attention."

  "You can't just break the rules when you please. Besides, the old man told me to stay away from him."

  She gave a sinister smile, then grabbed me by the collar again and proceeded to lead me out of the room.

  A few scattered oil lamps dimly lit the corridor in pale neatly-spaced patches. Unlike the rest of the ship, which was lit by electric lights, the ritual decks maintained a certain respect for older, less modern traditions. Oil lamps were one of these. Even monks walked the halls at intervals, carrying paper lanterns to ward off malicious spirits. Still, there was a gentle, natural touch to be found among such halls of wood and metal, where the lucid glow of the lamps gave way to the bluish beams of moonlight that shone through the various portholes.

  I stumbled, trying to keep up with her.

  At one point, I managed to wrest free from her grasp and tried to tell her to stop, but she once again demanded that I keep quiet. She felt for my sleeve, then took hold. With a hard yank, I found myself stubbornly pulled along once again. Eventually, my protests died, as I became increasingly curious.

  "While I was spying on the Boar, I found something," she whispered as we climbed a ladder to the decks above. "It's in the ship's tower. The place where important people stay."

  We snuck onto the surface deck, where the open air crashed like a wave over my face and body.

  The breeze was warm that night and the air smelled of seaweed and left an odd, salty taste on my lips. Quietly, she opened the entrance hatch to the ship's tower, then ushered me inside.

  I shielded my eyes from the bright, electric lights that illuminated every inch of the corridor. There were only a few people about and all of them were crewmen who looked focused on more important things than minding two harmless children who seemed to be out on an evening stroll.

  As we rounded a corner, we bumped into a set of faces that I immediately recognized.

  "Terr!" Han blinked in surprise.

  "You see, look at their clothes," Kassashimei declared. "They're students from the temple."

  It was Han, Kidou and a few of my other classmates, all who looked as though I had somehow returned from the dead.

  Kassashimei and I followed Han and the others to their quarters near the top of the tower, just below the bridge. Along the way, we passed by many other students, some wearing the uniforms from the ocean and river temples.

  A rumor emerged that I had become Master Lu's permanent servant, never to be seen again. Many of them were elated to see that such a rumor was untrue, and although they were captivated about my story about how I had come to serve in a tea house at the capital and how I had come aboard to fly my first airship, I remained secretive about the news I heard about Rune, about how the illness had taken so many lives, including my sister's.

  How could I tell Han and Kidou that, like my sister, their families were most likely gone as well; that they had been lied to about the safety of their mothers, fathers and siblings. I kept this news buried deep inside and carried a mask of relief and joy, glad to see the faces of my only friends left in this world.

  Han asked about my silver eyes. I told him they came to me in a dream.

  “They’re a divine gift,“ Kassashimei int
errupted. “A blessing. And with them, he’s going to be the best shyo mu in the country.” Everyone laughed, but Kassashimei stubbornly kept her face serious and prideful.

  We gathered into a large room flanked by long rows of beds, some chained to the ceiling, others laid out along the floor. It was a cramped place to be and it only added to the restlessness and dread that many of the children were showing on their faces. Han waited until the hatch behind us was sealed before he spoke.

  "There's turmoil at the Imperial Temple. The military has forced Master Hotaka to step down, and now all of us are under the rule of Master Lu and a man called General Fung."

  "I've seen that man," I said. "When I used to serve tea to Master Lu, I saw the general visit him many times. They always had these private conversations in some far off room where I couldn‘t hear. They always seemed rather suspicious."

  "Terr, not all of us believe it's a plot," Kidou said sternly. "Master Hotaka didn’t show any sign of anger or distress when he announced that Master Lu would take his place. Hotaka simply admitted that it was his time to retire."

  "You're blind Kidou, you're completely blind to what's happening," Han blurted out in earnest. "Don't you see, the temple has been disbanded; and we're all being sent to the National Academy. The general wants us to train alongside the military, so that we can take the nation's battleships to war."

  "Is that all you can do, is spout conspiracies?" As Kidou's anger grew, it became more obvious that the room had become divided. Some gathered beside Han, while the others beside Kidou. "Our duty is to the will of the nation, and if we must train elsewhere to better serve this country then who are we to protest? Whether we fly merchant ships or battleships, what does it matter, as long as we perform our duty honorably."

  I’d always known Han to be a gentle, forgiving person, but the passion I saw in him now, the concern that radiated from his expression was stronger than I had ever seen. "Are you completely stupid? We serve the Emperor, not the military, not anyone else. The Emperor would never allow us to go to war."

  "Stop it please," I pleaded. "I don‘t care who‘s right; what does it matter? We're friends aren't we? Let the world do what it wants. What matters to us, is that we‘re all here together."