"I‘d like to know as well," Kassashimei growled.
Ren Tzu looked at us coldly.
"You are not needed in my house any longer," Miss Nishio said as she strolled down the boarding platform. She approached with a curious aura of relief, as if she were glad this moment had finally come. "There is a greater journey waiting for the both of you, one which you have been training all these months for. The local officials recently passed a law, prohibiting any chienkuu ko from leaving the city. With all of them and the police occupied with the general's celebrations, we must take this opportunity to send the both of you away from here. Soon, you will understand the reason behind everything that has happened."
She held out the small, cloth bag that held my tamma. With her delicate hands she untied the string, then pulled out a small feather from the bag.
"In Rune, you predicted where this feather would fall," she said in a soft, somewhat secretive voice. "Do not forget where you came from, and do not forget the people that have guided you through these eventful days."
She put the feather back into my bag, then, as she handed it to me, closed her palms around my hand. She did not smile or show any kind of emotion that would betray her professional nature. Instead she nodded, and without another word, she simply walked away. A strange urge to follow her welled up inside me. As if anticipating what I was about to do Ren Tzu took my wrist and kept me still.
"Now is not the time to be stubborn," he said. "The city is not your home. I cannot explain. I am forbidden to do so, but you must trust me. Now hurry. We need to leave as quickly as possible."
I resisted at first, but he pulled us along with hardly any effort. It was the first time I’d ever truly felt his strength, and even though I tried to pull away, he was completely unshakable as both Kasshimei and I were dragged away like empty sacks.
Miss Nishio was gone again, and just like so many times before, I felt lost and abandoned.
The monks greeted us as we boarded, then, like a beast let loose from its cage, the train roared to life and chugged earnestly down the tracks.
Kassashimei and I huddled against the window in a booth facing each other. Ren Tzu remained stoutly silent in a seat across the aisle. A quick scan of my surroundings left me with the realization that, aside from the monks, we were the only passengers.
I tried my best to hide the small tinge of fear that budded from my confusion, but Kassashimei, who turned her gaze from the window towards me, narrowed her eyes, as if she knew how I felt and became upset because of it. I looked away, embarrassed. She nudged her foot against my shin in a rude attempt to direct my attention back to her.
"If you’ve forgotten your lucky beads, I’ll never forgive you," she murmured.
I reached into my sleeve and pulled them out, then dangled them in front of her.
She turned her gaze back to the window, still unnerved.
The sunlight came in through the glass and gleamed off her face. There was a soft shimmer that radiated from her skin that made me wonder for the first time, that if she were a gentler person she could, in fact, be beautiful.
"Whenever I see the ether," I muttered to her. "Everyone looks like a bunch of dark shadows, lurking around like patches of ink. But when I see you, you always appear as a bright, green light. Sometimes I worry, that if I look directly at you, you might blind me. Why is it, that you appear different from all the others?"
"I'm not selfish," she said sourly, completely ignoring my question. "What you said about me back then should never have been said. If I was selfish I would have left you a long time ago. I would not have cared about helping you."
She looked at me again still upset, but this time, I could see in her eyes that she was hurt. It was rare to see her so vulnerable, but I could tell she was trying hard to mask it beneath an angry look.
"No matter what happens," she continued. "As stupid as you may act sometimes, I will stay close to you. You and I are going to be the best chienkuu ko anyone has ever seen."
I jumped as she kicked me in the shins again.
"Okay, I'm sorry," I confessed. "I'm really sorry. But you should learn to be a little more humble."
She gave a small, satisfied grin.
"You and I are the moon and the sun. We have no reason to be humble."
The train chugged down the endless tracks all through the day and into the evening. Scenery of all kinds floated ceaselessly past the window. From forests, to ravines, to tunnels, images of nature came and went like chapters in a book. Finally, in the dead of night, while the stars gleamed boldly against a cloudless sky, the train screeched eerily as it came to stop in the middle of a vast, flat field. The wind was light, but it rolled across the grass like waves in an ocean. The familiar hiss of the train bellowed and wheezed as if catching it's breath.
A monk shuffled down the isle and greeted Ren Tzu, who had been meditating the entire trip. They exchanged a few whispered words, all the while, pointing at me in earnest, and then, after they’d finished, Ren Tzu sent the monk away and got up from his seat.
"We are here," he said.
We disembarked from the train into the lonely wilderness. Kasshimei was rubbing her eyes as she drearily stumbled along beside me. She’d been asleep during most of the journey, and she was not at all happy to be awake.
"Where do we go now?" I asked. "There's nothing here."
"For all we know, we’ve probably been sold to bandits or pirates,” Kassashimei teased.
"Kass!," I blared.
Her face glowed from the cabin lights emanating from the train behind us. She was sneering at my reaction, but then she took my arm and pulled away at the sleeve, revealing the Buddhist prayer beads that remained wrapped around my wrist.
"As long as you wear these," she said, "the spirits will bless us with good fortune."
"Terr," Ren Tzu interrupted. "You must lead us."
"Lead? What do you mean?” I looked up at him as he scanned the distant horizon. There was a calmness about him as he waited in silent earnest, as if he were expecting me to do something. "How can I lead us anywhere? I don't even know where we are."
He looked back at the train, then up and down the tracks before he spoke. "I’ve been instructed to tell you that these tracks are like a river. What you seek, lies a certain distance from this river. I was told that you would understand."
What he said meant nothing to me.
At least at first.
I was dazed by my confusion and was shaken by all that had happened. Kasshimei also regarded me with muted anticipation, as if at any moment, I was about to perform some kind of magic.
"Do you know what he’s talking about?" she asked.
I found myself idly shaking the beads on my wrist, listening to the gentle clacking sounds they made. It was then that a certain clue sparked in my mind. I pulled my tamma from its bag and held it up, waiting for it to give me some sort of sign. A single, brightly glowing needle appeared. It was doing something I had never seen it do before. The needle was shaking wildly in such a way that it too must have been spurring me on. It wasn’t long before I remembered what the old man had told me when I first met him at the Imperial Temple.
"We must go four hundred paces from the river," I said.
Ren Tzu nodded and waved me on.
We traversed through the swaying grass, stirring up the fire bugs as we went. The soft, winking lights they emitted brought the entire field to life, like a tiny lantern festival greeting our arrival. Counting every step of my right foot, we followed the direction of a single, faint, ethereal current, shown to me by my tamma.
There was a full moon that night. It's light gave a pale shimmer across the face of the land that should have left me in awe, but instead, my concern left me wondering what waited for me at the end of all of this. How strange it was that everyone around me saw my destiny with such clarity, and yet I was blind to it. I felt as if I were a leaf, adrift amidst the winds of change.
As my right foot hit the ground fo
r the four hundredth time, I found myself only standing further into the featureless fields of waving grass. I squinted my eyes and looked ahead, then all around me.
But there was nothing.
Ren Tzu came up beside me, neither impressed or upset. He was simply waiting, while Kassashimei continued to scan the grass.
"Is there another clue?" I asked Ren Tzu.
"No. You have done all that was expected of you," was all he said.
I looked down at my tamma, hoping that it would tell me something more. The needle started spinning again as the wind picked up. With sudden ferocity, the entire ball began to glow. I gasped and showed my tamma to Kassashimei, but only managed to embarrass myself as I had forgotten that I was the only one capable of seeing the images the glass ball presented.
The ether stirred around us, and as my eyes followed the course of its waves, I noticed something rippling in front of me, like a stage curtain that had been shaken by some unseen hand. I leaned in close to see what was, but then stepped back in surprise as a strange, blurry image appeared from within the ripples.
"Look, there's another train out there," Kassashimei said, pointing to the snake-like glow in the distance ."And there's people."
"I see it too," I murmured, watching the faint, ghost-like figures.
But as the image became clearer, I realized what it was we were truly seeing.
"It's like a mirror," I said. "That's us we're looking at. And that train is the one behind us."
"It is," Kassashimei said in disbelief. She waved at the mirror image of herself, and it waved back.
A great, heaving gust of wind came upon us like a mighty breath. I shielded my eyes, feeling as though that at any moment, I‘d be swept off my feet. But just as quickly as it came, it died and the air was still again. The strange, mirror images melded and the eerie curtain was drawn, revealing what it had been hiding all along.
Before us, was something that was not there before. Like the twilight before the dawn, it simply appeared.
It was an airship.
Grand and majestic, it towered over the fields like a slumbering giant. Shafts of light beamed softly from every port hole and window. Both soldiers and officials dressed in royal attire paced the decks, while at the bow, a large wooden ramp creaked and moaned as it was lowered. As impressive as the vessel was, my eyes remained squarely upon the chrysanthemums shaped from enormous pieces of brass that decorated various parts of the hull.
Ren Tzu took notice of my curiosity and said, "a ship with the Imperial emblem, is a ship of great importance."
With a hard thump, the ramp met the ground.
Distant silhouettes descended from the ship taking stern notice of us as they approached. It was a small group of monks and servants, and leading them was a man I hadn’t expected to meet again.
"It's the Boar," Kassashimei uttered.
I nudged her with my elbow, hoping he did not hear her blurt out the shameful nickname. He stepped towards me as one of the servants held a lantern over my face. Master Ichiro was careful to examine me, as if he doubted whether or not I was truly who he expected me to be. He then meticulously looked over Kassashimei before giving a confirming nod to Ren Tzu, who quickly returned a respectful bow.
"I trust there were no problems delivering them here?" the Boar asked.
"None," Ren Tzu answered. "The trip was uneventful."
The Boar came forward, the fullness of his face illuminated in the lantern light. His tiny, dark green eyes and the reserved expression on his face glowed with what seemed to be relief.
"If you recall Terr, some time ago I mentioned that you would be a part of a certain test, one which would challenge your skills and abilities. Little did I know that it would become much more than that. For you, it was a lengthy trial and a chance for you to grow and learn. I am proud to say, that you have passed. You are no longer a student. In my eyes, you are a full-fledged chienkuu ko."
He lead us towards the ship, where an elderly man with deep wrinkles and sunken eyes, dressed in white and silver robes waited for us. He was escorted by a group of traditional-looking guards who, instead of rifles, had swords, much like Ren Tzu's, sheathed at their sides.
The Boar and the others greeted the well-aged man with a bow and I was quick to do the same. He greeted us with a casual gesture of his hand then pointed to the tamma I was holding. I held it out and he reverently took it, carefully inspecting the etchings and patterns on its surface. His thin, frail hands shook as he took in the details. Finally, he handed it back to me, then gave a pleased smile.
"The tamma is no forgery," he said in a tired, but satisfied voice. "It truly is a master's tamma. And since you are its bearer, both you and your shyo mah have been chosen to serve the Emperor. I am Dae Jung, the Emperor's advisor and caretaker to his son.
Welcome to the Emperor's airship."
END OF BOOK ONE
BOOK TWO
Chapter 15
I remember visiting a museum some months ago, which had an exhibit showcasing the lives of the old Rui Nan emperors. A small model of one of the emperor’s personal airships was displayed under a glass case in the center of one of the rooms. Curiously, no one knew the ship's true name. People simply assumed that it was just called, the Emperor's Airship, which was in fact, inscribed on the metal name plate underneath the model.
Of course, I knew of its name.
After all these years, I’d kept it a secret. I suppose it was my small way of assuring the past retained a bit of its mystery. After all, a past with noble secrets, is a past with its dignity preserved.
The fifty-first Emperor had christened it with the name, Valley of Mist, after the place of its construction.
It was a vessel specially built to carry the Imperial Family or special envoys to various parts of the world. Many believed it to be a luxurious floating palace, but in reality, for the remnants of the Imperial Family and its court in exile, it was a fortified castle, a tiny forbidden city perched high above the world that preserved what was left of the old Rui Nan government, safe from the general's reformations.
And it was within this ship that I found my new home.
As Dae Jung lead us through its cavernous decks, I felt as if I were moving through the halls of a great citadel. Unlike other claustrophobic vessels of the air, this one did not feel cramped at all. In some places the ceiling was as high as three adults standing on each others' shoulders, and in other parts of the ship, there were even atriums filled with plants, small trees and a large glass canopy that let the sunlight shine in during the day followed by the stars at night. Almost the entire length of the interior was masked in wood and a white canvas-like fabric, all decorated with enormous wall scrolls, brass serpent-like dragons that stretched from one end of the hall to the other, and delicate paper lanterns glowing softly across the ceiling. Every detail was carefully crafted to mirror the inside of the Imperial Palace and project an atmosphere of grandeur and power to any foreign ambassador that visited.
As I watched the people shuffle by, I noticed that almost every one of them were wearing old style clothing. From intricately designed robes of glittering fabric and silk, to elaborate hair styles, ornamented with jade and gold, almost every person, to include the soldiers who only carried spears and swords, seemed to be living images from our country's distant past, long before the advent of steam and gunpowder. A curious-looking man meandered down the hall, ringing a tiny gong, announcing the hour of the horse, while a woman ritually carried a small vase of burning incense, passing its calming scent from one part of the corridor to the another. The ship was its own tiny world, locked so steeply in tradition, that it seemed frozen in time.
"The Young Emperor is loose again. Stop him. Stop him immediately." The guard captain's bellow startled us as he chased a young boy dressed in heavy gold and red robes down the length of the corridor. He appeared to be barely my age, and yet, as I glimpsed his face as he ran by, there was a certain confidence and determination that I�
��d only ever seen from Miss Nishio.
A group of guards scuffled by while Dae Jung, gasping with surprise excused himself and quickly followed them. The Boar solemnly shook his head, and bade us to stay close as we proceeded to walk in the direction of the startled crowd.
A moment later, we were back at the top of the boarding ramp at the bow, watching a group of guards that had managed to surround the young boy. A wall of men blocked the exit to the ramp while the guard captain approached the boy, whose stubborn face seemed on the verge tears, but whose pride was strong enough to not allow such a disgraceful thing to happen.
"Why are you all just standing there? Get out of the way, your Emperor commands it," the boy demanded. "Well? Move. I intend to leave. I must see my family."
Though the order was clearly understood, the gathering crowd stood their ground and bowed instead while they pressed their foreheads against the deck. They begged for the boy's forgiveness. He turned his gaze towards me, for I had not realized that Kassashimei and I were the only two still standing.
"Please accept our deepest apologies," the guard captain said. "But we cannot allow you to go back. None of us can. General Fung has taken your family, and it is their wish that we keep you safe. The old empire must be preserved, a task and a blessing left to you, and only you."
The Young Emperor hardly flinched as he eerily kept his full attention upon me. His eyes grew fierce, like a tiger waiting to pounce. He then pulled a golden pin from his hair and flung it in my direction. His hair, no longer bound, fell its full length to the small of his back. The pin clattered to the ground at my feet.
He pointed at me.
"He is the Emperor now," he shouted. "Let him take care of your stupid empire. Now set me free. I want to see my family."
No one moved, save for the guards who attentively moved shoulder to shoulder, forming a rigid wall to block the boy's path as he stammered towards the ramp. He vainly struck their armored chests with his fists, but as passionate and determined as he was, the guards and their stalwart discipline remained unmoved.
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