Sky of Paper: An Asian Steam-Driven Fantasy Tale

by Matthew Seaver

  That was the night I truly had lost all hope.

  Chapter 27

  I was once told that we remember the moments of our past not because of what happened, but because of the emotions we felt. How strange it is that when I think of that night after Lai had confessed to me about my sickness, I could hardly recall the feelings that surged so fiercely within me. Perhaps my mind had since blocked them out, fearing that I would grow insane if I were to experience it again. But what I did remember, was how the knowledge of the frailty of my mortality had driven me to dream again.

  I don't remember falling asleep that night, but like many of my dreams before, the dragon returned. He was lying upon the beach, his withered body lapped by the ocean waves while his head lay resting against the warm sand. He looked tired, barely able to stir as I approached. The pale, orange glow of the sun setting beneath the watery horizon saddened me somehow.

  "Why do you look out there so longingly?" The dragon asked. "Is it because you think you can somehow reach out across the horizon, pluck out the sun and make it your own?"

  There was no reason for me to fear him anymore. Rather, I felt pity for him. His eyes seemed dull and the rich, red color of his scales had faded. I placed my hand atop his head petting his rough, coarse skin.

  "That horizon is my future," I said. "It's everyone's future. And yet, I can't go there. I think I'm stuck here with you."

  He made a hollow, guttural sound deep in his throat. Maybe it was his attempt at a chuckle, or perhaps he was expressing his disappointment. Either way, it was obvious that he disapproved of my words.

  "I will die with much regret,” he uttered weakly. “There are no longer any days left for me. But you. . .you still breath. Your face still glows. And you still wonder about the things that could be. You have seen my fire pierce the heavens, but I still have, as of yet, to see yours do the same."

  "Is that what you want?"

  "No. What I want is to eat you, but sadly, I lack the strength to do it. So I have no choice, but to either watch you fade away, or let you live long enough to release yourself from any regrets."

  I waded out into the ocean until the water was just above my knees, then looked down, feeling its coolness against my legs. Slowly, I dipped my hands in, swirling the water about and splashing it against my face. I looked back at the dragon who seemed to be without any care as he lay there as still as a boulder.

  "I know none of this is real. Is this what dying people dream about?" I stumbled over my words, pained by my own question, but the sound the dragon made in his throat must have meant that he was annoyed by it.

  "If you have the time to ask that question, then you have been asleep for far too long. Wake up, and live out the rest of your days as you think you should."

  I once told my grandchildren about a dying dragon that visited my dreams. I told them about how he had regretted the choices he had made in his life and the things that he would never again have a chance to do. . . . . . . . one of which included eating me. They laughed just as I did when I shared with them that last part.

  My grandchildren were old enough to assume that my stories were nothing more than pointless fairytales, but the youngest of them, the daughter to my son, came up to me when I was alone in my study.

  She said that I had my story all wrong.

  She said that the dragon was lying to me. No creature as wise and as mysterious as him could never admit to a mortal, the truth behind his feelings. Then she explained to me that what the dragon meant to say was that his greatest regret was leaving me behind, alone in the world and that he would have rather have eaten me and let the two of us die together than leave me in my despair.

  Just like the dragon, I too was a prideful old man. I would not be lectured by someone so young, so I demanded that she leave. However, as I gazed at the wooden prayer beads lying on my desk I knew that what she had said to me was most certainly true.

  I don't remember when the dream ended, but when I opened my eyes there she was, her face looming over mine, a few swollen red spots dotting the sides of her nose. Kassashimei. No matter where I hid, she always managed to find me. Spread across her lips was her typical smile, the kind that was neither motherly, nor kind, but rather, one of purpose, like the ambitious grin of a warrior sharpening his sword before battle.

  "Leave me alone," I said. Her presence annoyed me more than usual.

  "No. I won't," she blurted. “Not until I clean up this mess you made. If the other servants found out about this, you'd be in a lot of trouble."

  I placed my hand on her shoulder and pushed her away, then got up and proceeded towards the door. "I don't care anymore. They can beat me as much as they want."

  "Then let's run away." The sudden sharpness in her tone gave me pause. "I know we tried before. But this time I know we can do it. Let's go to the countryside where the bombs won't find us. I'm sure we can find someone to take us in. We can do chores for them to earn our keep. Even if it's farm work, it can't be as bad as being here."

  I kept my back to her, as I didn‘t want her to see my face when I uttered my shameful words. "I don't want you to be around me anymore. Leave. Run away. But do it without me."

  As I continued down the hall, I heard her nagging voice trailing behind me. "If you're going to be a coward, at least face me when you say it. Hey, I'm talking to you."

  I ignored her, trying to get as much distance as I could.

  I went across the palace grounds, past the gardens and royal quarters, which were forbidden to myself and the rest of the servants, and even treaded upon the sacred grounds near the pagoda where the precious shrine was housed. Finally, I was at the eastern gates where children in uniform were being escorted out to the train yards beyond where they would be ferried out to the awaiting warships docked at the other side of the city.

  An officer stopped me. His hands were clasped stoutly at his back as he inspected me with narrowed eyes.

  "I am Terr, a chienkuu ko in service to the Young Emperor," I said with a voice as proud as I could muster. "Let me fly your warships."

  The officer remained silent.

  "I said, let me fly your warships," I repeated much louder this time.

  Finally, I decided to go around him, but he took a step to the side and continued blocked my path.

  "What are you doing? You want children to fly your ships for you don't you? Let me pass. Let me pass right now."

  It was then that a small group of soldiers surrounded me. With their postures and their rifles held high, I felt as if I were trapped behind a human wall composed of glaring eyes, ever judging my of my insignificance.

  "How dare you," the officer said. "Pretending to be a chienkuu ko and dishonoring those that courageously fight for our country." With his leather-gloved hand, he took my chin and turned my head forcefully from one side to the other. "Those ragged clothes, the dirt on your face. You’re either a peasant or a mongrel. Tell me, how did you get here?"

  My presence had caused a scene. The children behind him glanced curiously in my direction as they walked by. Among them, I recognized Lai who grimly shook his head, as if warning me to stay away.

  "Lai!" I called out. "Tell them who I am. I'm one of you."

  I tried forcing my way towards him, but he slowly turned his back and joined the steady procession out the gate. The officer struck me on the chest and sent me stumbling backwards.

  "That's enough out of you," he said. "Disrespectful boy. Go back to whatever filthy place you came from before I have you arrested."

  There was no sense in continuing any further, so I turned away in defeat. A short moment later however, I felt a friendly pat on my back. I turned again and found both Han and Kidou standing before me. They had a warm look of content about them that made me feel humbled, unworthy.

  "After what you said about Rune," Han said, "I think we have more of a reason to go home."

  There was a sureness to the way they presented themselves. Han’s sincerity, Kidou’s gentle, y
et serious demeanor; it was as if they had finally come to peace with the solemn truth about the fate of our village.

  "But isn't the plague still there?” I said. “Everyone we know might be dead."

  "That doesn't matter," Kidou said matter-of-factly.

  Han must have sensed that I was close to tears, because he consoled me by gently rasping he palm against my chest. "I've seen the maps. Our flight path takes us over Rune. Kidou and I have decided that we're going to jump out when we pass over the island."

  "After we get parachutes of course," Kidou added.

  "We'll look for your sister," Han said.

  I nodded, pretending to ignore my tears as I returned Han’s gesture and slapped my hands on both their shoulders. It wasn’t long before the impatient officer barked a few harsh words in our direction, demanding that my two remaining friends move quickly towards the gate.

  "Stay away from the warships Terr," Kidou cautioned as the soldiers took them away. "The military will only lead you to your death."

  When I returned to the palace, there she was, waiting for me at the steps. Ever proud. Ever unyielding. Her face was just as dirty as mine, her clothes unkempt and wrinkled.

  "I cleaned up your mess," she chided. "Also, I threw away all the pieces of the broken vases and glass you left behind in that room. I threw them into the furnace in the boiler room. There's no way you can get in trouble now, unless of course they notice the missing glass trinkets, but with all the things they decorate the palace with, I doubt they‘ll know."

  Even as she was now, standing there bright and confident, looking the way she did; she still seemed ignorantly happy. How stubborn she was. All the harsh words I‘d recently thrown at her and all my demands that she stay away did nothing to phase her. I sensed that she was daring me to try to get rid of her. Still, I wanted to remind her of what I’d said earlier. I wanted to repeat myself, to send her away, to leave me be, but it was no use; so I decided that I would give it up. Instead, all I did, was take a deep breath and allowed her to see me for what I was, with all my meekness and uncertainty.

  "Kass," I said, "Am I a coward? Would you think of me as a bad person if I told you that I abandoned my friends?"

  She shook her head, then proceeded to pick up my wrist and inspect it, only to find it bare. Without any care for manners or gentleness, she reached into my pockets, searching them with stern hands until she found the beads. Taken aback by her invasive hands, I tried to pull away, but she slapped my arm, held me still, then wrapped the beads around my wrist.

  "You're an idiot you know that," she said. "You worry too much about your friends when they worry just as much about you. Life is hard enough that everyone doubts themselves. You shouldn't be one of them."

  The great general's last and final offensive took place on the day of his fifty fifth birthday. Ominously, it was also the day my sickness worsened. While the radios filled the palace with optimistic reports of the battle, I stumbled about in a terrible daze, sweating and constantly out of breath. I could hardly control my vision as my second sight phased in and out like a loose window shutter tossed about by the wind and flickering sunlight into a dark room. Though it pained me, I continued with my chores knowing full well that the head servants would care nothing for my health. On more than one occasion, Kassashimei took the broom and the wiping cloth from my hands and did my tasks for me, then forced me to rest behind a corner or bush where no one would find me.

  Wherever I was, I could still hear the distant chatter of the radios. Reporters broadcasting from aboard the airships called out every explosion, every cannon fired, every cheer of victory, every battle cry. The feeble ships of the west fell from the sky like burning paper upon the breeze, or so they said. Even their so-called air planes were no match for ours as our forces dove upon them like hawks, banishing them from the heavens.

  Static-filled transmissions such as these continued for days detailing acts of heroism and sacrifice in the face of a ferocious and merciless enemy. Two weeks passed before reports came in announcing that General Fung and his forces had retaken the Eastern Kingdom. Cheers and celebration filled the palace. Still writhing in agony, Kassashimei and I were given a few days rest in light of the good news.

  How strange it is that wars care nothing for truth as long as there are those that find comfort in its lies. History books would tell a different story from those announced by our radios. They would detail great loss and hardships by our forces. Their pages listed by name, every one of our ships that had fallen from the sky and the names of our officers that had failed to lead our soldiers in the re-occupation of Eastern Kingdom capital. While our country rejoiced in a false victory, the warriors of our nation, General Fung, my friends; all suffered the horrors of defeat after defeat.

  The news came to me while I rested in the servant quarters the day after the celebrations had begun. Kassashimei stubbornly stayed by my side, brewing tea and cooking the extra rations that the head servants had so happily provided us. For all her good will, she was a terrible cook, and she knew it. But as starved and sick as I was, I didn’t mind stomaching the food she provided.

  I was lying on my bed when I saw Ai step through the doorway of the bunkhouse, trailed by a humble monk that served as her aid. Kassashimei, who had been cooking stew over a stove on the far end of the room, watched her with great suspicion as she approached and sat down on the bed beside me.

  "Don't look at me like that," she said.

  "Like what?" I inquired. "I thought you were blind."

  "Don't be naive. Though I can only see the ether, it reveals to me so much more than you know. One of them is your reaction to me being here; and you look as though I've come to deliver a curse."

  "But I am cursed. I know about my sickness. I know the truth about these silver eyes. I know everything, except the exact moment of my death. Have you come to tell me when that is?”

  She sighed, lifting her listless gaze across the room at Kassashimei for a brief moment then back down to me. "I'm sorry that this had to happen to you. You deserve to live a long life, just as any other person. But-"

  "Why are you here?" I interrupted.

  The bite in my voice caused her to gasp. She remained silent for a time as she recomposed herself, then she said, "I've come to arrange an escape for both you and Kassashimei. The both of you need to leave the palace as soon as possible."

  "And why is that?"

  "General Fung's offensive has failed. His forces barely even made it to the coast of the Eastern Kingdom before his ships and his men were defeated. Minister Lu has issued a decree that any and all chienkuu ko, regardless of skill or well-being must be brought in to service the remaining warships of the Imperial Air Navy." She turned her head away, looking down at the floor boards. "Being his daughter, and the one most closely tied to children with such special abilities, I've been ordered to create a list of names and seek as many of them as possible."

  "So they're all dead? My friends? They're all gone?" My face grew numb. I could hardly believe her. At first, I refused, but the desperate expression that filled her face left me with little doubt as to the grim news she’d given me. "What about your brother?"

  I’d always believed Ai to be a stronger person than I. The conviction in all she did, the confidence in her skills, the beauty that resonated from her unblemished face, her very presence alone overwhelmed me; and now, here she was, meek and filled with doubt. It was as if she’d just witnessed the withered shedding of the last flower of the last everbloom tree our country so cherished, and was left alone amongst the orchards of dead, empty branches, never to see the vibrant colors of the eternal blossoms again.

  "Please, don't remind me of him," she uttered. "I can't even bare the slightest thought of what‘s happened to him. He’s not worth hoping for. Not anymore.“

  "Don’t be like that," I said sitting up and rubbing the numbness from my cheeks. "Until the fates tell me otherwise, I will never stop believing that they‘re alive; and that i
ncludes your brother. All of them are true masters at what they do. There’s no way they would fall so easily from the sky."

  "Enough of this," she said in a tone as harsh as mine was just a moment ago. "We need to get you out of here. My aid has already made arrangements with the other monks in the palace. Tomorrow night, we’re taking you to the countryside where it’s safe."

  "No," I replied suddenly. "The countryside isn’t where I belong."

  I pulled out a ragged, brown pouch which was tied to my waist and unwrapped the precious item it contained. Its surface was covered with bits of dirt and minor scratches that betrayed its misuse. It wasn’t my original tamma, but it was the only possession I had left in the world, and I regarded it with great pride, for it came to embody all I had become; the hardships, the training, all the sufferings of my life could be found within this fragile, glass sphere.

  "So that’s it then?" she said. "You’d rather do as my father commands and seek your death on one of those horrible warships?"

  I remained entranced by the sphere in my hand as I spoke, as if I were confessing to it all my regrets. "Since leaving home, I’ve never had much of a choice in anything. I've been lead from one place to another watching the world change while I stood by. For someone like me, choice has been something I could never have. When Masa tried to take you away, when I tried to escape the temple in order to save my sister, even our attempts to bring the Young Emperor to safety, the things we wanted never happened as we believed they should." As I looked up, I realized Kassashimei was standing beside me with a bowl of stew in her hand, listening. I closed my eyes, finding it hard to utter the next few words. "I'm going to die soon. And as a last gift to me, I feel like I’ve been given something that none of the other children had. I finally have a choice." I laughed a little, rubbing my eyes as I felt a few tears spill out onto my cheeks. "It isn't a very good one though is it? I can either live out my final days in the countryside, or I can die as a chienkuu ko just like Master Ichiro. Ai, you already know what I want."