Sky of Paper: An Asian Steam-Driven Fantasy Tale

by Matthew Seaver

  The two groups regarded me as if I’d somehow offended them. An uncomfortable silence fell that briefly left me feeling segregated and alone.

  A small shove nudged at my back.

  I turned to see Kassashimei grinning.

  "Whatever happens," she announced. "It won't help to be angry at each other."

  The room was still silent, glimmering with accusing looks; as if everyone were waiting for me to choose a side.

  The metallic groan of the swinging hatch brought an abrupt end to the stand-off. All eyes turned to the Boar, who stood at the doorway, nonchalantly smoking his pipe.

  He wasn’t at all surprised to see me.

  I regarded the Boar uneasily as we strolled outside along the center of the deck. He didn’t seem to mind the strong wind. Even though his long robes fluttered wildly about and the tobacco in his pipe threatened to flutter off at any moment, the calm on his face seemed to barely even acknowledge the wind's existence. The world had changed without my notice and Han, Kidou and the others had changed with it. When the Boar asked me and Kassashimei to walk with him I felt a strange sense of relief to be away from my friends and their oddly accusing gazes.

  "So by now you’ve learned that airships can fly when a kind of bubble is formed around them."

  The wind blew out the flame in his pipe.

  He decided it wasn’t worth the effort to light it again and he put it away into his sleeve. "And you certainly did an excellent job creating one yourself today. But did you know that you can tell the difference in skill between a good chienkuu ko and a bad one by simply standing out here on deck?

  A good one can create a solid barrier which protects against the wind and the rain. A less capable one allows theirs to be frail and porous, which allows the elements to seep through. Certainly you can tell which one is flying this ship can‘t you?"

  "Which one am I?" I asked bluntly.

  He grinned. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can hear you with this accursed wind howling in my ear."

  He bade me on with a challenging glare from his small, dark green eyes. I glanced back at Kassashimei who acknowledged me instantly with a nod. She knelt down and watched carefully as I took my ready stance.

  I took a deep breath, and in the next moment threw my arms out to the sides, arcing them in a circular manner, my silver eyes taking great care as to watch our own bubble form around us so as not to interfere with the one already around the ship.

  The wind's incessant blaring waned, and after a moment, all that remained were the soft murmurs of the engines and my choreographed footsteps shuffling along the deck.

  The Boar seemed pleased with the sudden stillness and relit his pipe in a grand manner, as if to celebrate his newfound discovery of my steadily evolving skills. He took a few puffs and watched the grace of my movements.

  Arm over arm.

  Small twists and bends of my torso.

  A steady eye to the dark horizon.

  There was a serene confidence in my movements, and like watching a sakura tree in bloom rustling softly in the spring breeze I felt a sense of calm fall over me.

  "Things are changing Terr," the Boar said. "Just as I have told you. As you have probably heard from your classmates, the temple has been disbanded. In the months to come, you may discover that the nation, our way of life, will be different from what you remember. In a way, your misfortune may be a blessing. While these students are ferried away from their traditional lives, you will remain behind in the capital to carry on a much more simple life."

  "Forgive me if I sound a bit blunt," I said, "but I’ve learned that there is no such thing as a simple life, and if I ever had one, I can never return to it."

  "You sound as though you‘ve given up hope. Be proud Terr. There’s a future waiting for you."

  "And what about the others? What about Han and Kidou?"

  He remained eerily silent, then once again, proceeded to put away his pipe. "I believe I’ve had enough to smoke for tonight."

  "What will happen to them?" I asked again. "Please, tell me."

  "You are too young to worry about the lives of others."

  "Why won't you tell me?"

  I threw my hands down and turned to face him.

  The wind flooded back, screeching like a wild banshee. His expression hardened, as if to tell me I was not worthy of the answer.

  It was then that I felt something strike the back of my head. Looking up I realized it was a small, pebble-sized object bounding away. I spun around and saw, silhouetted against the bright glow of my second sight, something floating far in the distance. What I found myself witnessing was both too dark and far enough away, that no common eye would have ever noticed its presence. But with my gift, I could see their foreboding shapes draw steadily closer. They looked like airships, traveling in the opposite direction, but their movements were erratic and they grew in number.

  Suddenly, small pieces of wood and metal flew by, thumping bitterly against the hull. I cried out to Kassashimei and immediately, the both of us erected a protective barrier.

  Finally, the masses ahead made themselves known. They were indeed airships, but they were torn and broken, hanging mysteriously in the air, spinning and tumbling as if caught by some unforgiving current.

  "Master Ichiro, there’s something ahead of us."

  "I suppose there is," he said matter-of-factly. "Do you think the captain, or the chienkuu ko below see what you see?"

  "They do, I know they do. Look, the ship is turning."

  "Oh." Was his only reply.

  The collision bell sounded and the bow rose sharply in a desperate attempt to gain altitude. A shrill screech stung my ears as a large piece of debris scraped along the side of the ship.

  Drawing on my focus, I peered into the turbulent sky‘s true form. Enormous waves lashed about, amidst angry whirlpools as large as mountains. As the ship began to pitch violently and drift in the same manner as the hulks in the distance, I realized that this place had a will, all its own.

  "It seems we’ve stumbled onto the Serpent's Back," the Boar uttered. "If the captain is swift enough, we still have time to move to safety."

  "The Serpent's Back?" I asked.

  "As much as we would like to pretend, the truth is, we are not the masters of everything. There are still some places in this world that act on their own, regardless of our influences. The Serpent's Back is one of them, for it is a storm that never ceases. It lives and breathes like any creature. And because common eyes cannot see it, all too often, ships wander into its wake, only to be torn and ripped apart. Because of the nature of its violent currents its victims lay suspended in the air, caught ceaselessly in its whirlpools for all time."

  "You mean they lay adrift in the sky without ever falling?"

  "Yes."

  "How can that be? Nothing can stay in the sky forever."

  "Of course it can. For as long as you can remember, you have seen the moon and the sun in their places among the heavens. How is this any different?"

  I remained bewildered as I cautiously peered upwards while Kassashimei and I persisted in keeping our sphere-like shield strong enough to deflect the small shards and debris that constantly zipped by.

  "Does the captain hope to go over the storm?" I asked.

  "I suppose that is his aim. We’d better go inside now, before things get worse."

  "It's already too late to go around," Kassashimei said.

  “And it's too late to go over it." I added.

  Above us was a torrent of orange and red, which darkened menacingly against the night sky. Another whirlpool, larger than the others, loomed in the distance overhead. Immediately, I feared that the captain would not be able to see the swirling mass that lay horrifically in our path. Entranced by the surrounding spectacle, I had not realized that I had stopped moving my body. The barrier Kassashimei and I had created dissipated and we were suddenly thrown back by the gusting wind.

  I ran for the bridge tower, ignoring the Boar and Ka
ssashimei as they shouted after me.

  I knew the bridge was at the top-most point of the tower, so I took whatever stairs and ladders I could that went upwards. Along the way, I encountered Han and Kidou who were instantly curious about my hurried sense of purpose. They asked me what I was doing, but I was in no mood to answer, and instead, shoved my way past them and all the other students who stood in my path. Concerned and still curious they proceeded to follow.

  Every now and then, I lost my balance and fell painfully against the bulk heads as the ship careened from side to side. Each time, my friends caught me before I tumbled and helped me to my feet. Finally, after climbing what seemed to be a mountain of steps, I pushed open the bridge hatch and looked around for anyone of importance.

  "Don't go over the storm," I shouted. “There's something worse above us."

  "Who are you?" said a man from across the room.

  Looking over his uniform and the way he stood commandingly behind one of the many steel consoles laden with switches, gauges and dials, I judged that he was the captain.

  "Don't go over the storm," I repeated. "Please, we're going to die if we go up there."

  "What's going on?" Han asked.

  He and the others persisted behind me, all glazed with worried looks.

  "Why are there children here?" The captain said disapprovingly. "Take them away."

  "No."

  I protested as one of the bridge crew took me by the shoulder.

  Shoving him away, I said, "You have to listen. There's something terrible up there."

  "Aside from that last collision, observation as well as the ritual room below says the way is clear," reported a man from the other side of the room.

  "No, he’s wrong. They can't see what I can see. This is not a regular storm. There are shipwrecks out there. They're too far away for you to see, but I can see them."

  The crewman that loomed over me grunted angrily as he pushed me back into the hatch. I pushed back as hard as I could, all the while making a torrid ruckus with my whining and screaming.

  "The child is telling you the truth," the Boar said, coming up the stairwell. "We’ve come across the Serpent's Back and we cannot go above it."

  The captain seemed even more displeased to see another man crowd the bridge. Frustrated, he shouldered his way towards the Boar through the already cramped room and looked sternly into my former teacher's eyes.

  "Then tell me what I should do." he said.

  "Go underneath it," I blurted.

  The captain darted his gaze in my direction.

  Startled, I looked away apologetically.

  "Why is that boy still here? Take him off my bridge, now."

  "No," the Boar interrupted. "Again, he’s right. The Serpent's Back is bound only to the sky. We must make for the ocean below where it cannot reach us."

  With a small measure of reluctance, the captain immediately ordered the ship to descend.

  All sorts of bells chimed and rang, giving orders and warnings throughout the entirety of the ship. We waited patiently, watching ominously as the crew below and the children in the ritual room set about their tasks. The Boar lit his pipe and Han anxiously shook my arm asking me for any sort of explanation as to what was going on. Amidst the concerned faces of my classmates I told them about the storm outside. Kidou, with a calm, proud expression reassured everyone and told them there was nothing to worry about, while Han ordered them to return back to their rooms. A moment later, an additional alarm bell sounded.

  "Why is the bow still rising?" The disgruntled captain asked.

  The helmsman pulled fiercely at various levers and switches as if he were fighting against something.

  "I don't know sir," he said. "The ritual room says they’re doing everything they can to bring us down. Engineering reports that the engines are in full reverse. Even the diving vents are fully open, but the ship isn't responding."

  Outside the bridge window lay a ferocious current shaped like a behemoth river, pressing us along against our will.

  "We're being drawn in," I said. "The storm is pulling us into itself."

  "Strange. You can see these things?" The Boar queried.

  "Yes, every detail."

  The Boar remained unmoved as he continued to puff at his pipe, studying me with suspicious eyes. Even as the captain bellowed out his orders, there was no denying that his efforts were in vain.

  A small feeling of dread gripped the inside of my chest as I imagined the ship smashing against a piece of wreckage, then sent tossing and tumbling, doomed to hover ceaselessly across the sky among the other storm's helpless victims.

  The captain called for the Boar's assistance. He pressed his hand on my shoulder before answering the captain’s summon.

  Most of the students had disappeared below decks, except for Han and Kidou who looked onward with both desperation and awe.

  "Do you see it?" Han asked.

  "Yes, I do," Kidou replied. "So many colors. It's like a painting.”

  Indeed, there was a beauty to the churning mass. To everyone else who looked on unknowingly from the windows and portholes, there was a hollow blackness with only the glow of the timid moon, peering every now then from behind thick, scattered clouds.

  We faltered backwards as the bow rose sharply. An ethereal wave had picked up the ship and the currents quickened, driving the us further and further away from world below.

  "Han. Kidou." I said. "I think you should go below and find some place safe."

  I darted off the bridge and descended the steps to the decks below.

  "What about you?" Han said, calling after me.

  "I'm going to help."

  Of course, they followed me. It was pointless to even suggest otherwise.

  Along the way, I met Kassashimei, who was still slowly making her way across one of the corridors to the bridge. She was quick to pelt me with insults, angry that I had left her behind. Without a word, I took her by the wrist and urged her to follow.

  As we made our way further below, I found Meng, who looked utterly confused and scared. She was huddled beside Madame Quoli, who stopped us immediately and ordered us to go back to our rooms.

  "I'm sorry Madame Quoli, but I cannot.” I meant to sound apologetic, but it was obvious that I was hardly sincere.

  "Disrespectful child. Who are these other two with you? Have you been going around causing mischief? Return to your rooms immediately or I will see that all of you are punished."

  "Everyone is in danger. I have to help."

  "Nonsense. How could anyone possibly need your help? Now go back this instant."

  I shoved my way past her, but she took me by the neck, as if I were some unruly pup. Instinctively, I slapped her hand away. When she tried to reach for me again, I pushed her back in such a way that she must have thought that I was attacking her. Meng uttered a dreadful gasp of surprise. Quoli grabbed the cloth of my shirt and shook me about, as if airing out a dusty rug. I rammed my weight against her, causing her to stumble and fall to the ground. Hardly allowing anytime to feel any regret for what I‘d done, I turned and ran, making my way towards the ritual room.

  There was a sudden tremor. The wooden walls and floor gave a sickly, crackling sound. Then there was a loud crash as if some beastly thing had been let loose from its cage. We braced ourselves as a cloud of dust and small bits of debris rumbled through the corridors. Thankfully, we’d managed to keep our footing as the murky air began to clear.

  "Is everyone alright?" Han inquired, dusting himself off. Everyone gave a small, approving groan.

  "Terr, let's go back." Kiddou said, his face betraying the same growing sense of dread that I‘d felt. "I'm sure the captain and the rest of the crew can take care of things."

  Kassashimei was coughing. Her breath was tired and wheezing, but she seemed more determined than ever.

  "The both of you go back." It was more of a demand than a request. "Terr may be a selfish idiot, but I can tell when he‘s committed himself to a pl
an; and it doesn‘t involve either of you."

  Han and Kidou were certainly offended, Han especially, who looked about ready to feed Kassashimei his own stern words when he was interrupted by the sounds of pained moans echoing from further down the corridor.

  There was no question as to how severe things had become, for when we approached the source of the moaning, we found that the large, ornate double doors that led to the ritual room had been flung wide open by an enormous piece of debris that had, just a moment ago, crashed through the bow. Wood and metal were strewn in ragged mounds along the floor and impaled like spears along the walls. Pinned underneath were the monks that guarded the doors, desperately reaching for us.

  "Help me," I yelled as I worked my way through the pile.

  It took all of our combined strength to move the heavy pieces, but as we dragged out the monks, we found yet more people trapped underneath, including the children that had been flying the ship. They were battered, bleeding from deep scrapes and cuts all over their bodies, but they were still alive.

  "Han, Kidou, stay here and help them," I said ", Kass, come with me."

  We climbed over the jagged pile, into the shattered mess that was once the Ritual Room. Wind gushed in from the open gash at the front of the ship. It was hard to stand, but we managed to make our way to the center of the room. The ship was rising on its own now, caught by the storm's clutches. Just like its other victims, the Serpent’s Back was seeking another vessel to add to its grim collection.

  "Kass, what should we do now?" I bellowed over the howling wind.

  I lost my footing and fell back against her. Annoyed, she braced against a piece of shattered wall, and kicked the small of my back. Realizing that I wasn’t moving, she kicked me again, forcing me towards the center of the room.

  "Do it Terr," she cried out ", you wanted to help. Then help."

  She was watching me. . . as my shyo mah.

  Indeed she was ready, giving me all her attention and focus. I envied her courage. Surely she was just as scared as I, but she refused to let it show.

  I planted my feet as securely as my frail weight would allow and braced against the wind, letting my second sight overtake me. Just like before, the room became hazy, and then transparent. The ether circled the ship like a snake waiting for its moment to strike. In the distance, a whirling cloud of metal, wood and decapitated and maimed ships tumbled and collided amongst one another. There was no mercy to be found among the towering waves and currents that lay ahead. How could I hope to part them, to control them, or even steer us away. They were much too powerful, and I was too scared. I didn’t even have my tamma with me, which left me blind to most of the currents' directions. Still, there had to have been a reason for coming all this way. I was sure there was a purpose to my being in that room. And then I saw it. The only path left to us.