We walked until the soft rustle of the river could no longer be heard. He murmured to himself, uttering things I couldn’t understand. Cautiously, I approached him, until I discovered that he was mumbling numbers. He was counting his steps, keeping his head low and to the side without paying much attention to what lay ahead. Such a strange way to walk. I was afraid he might run into a tree or a branch, but his eyes were listless and dull, as if he’d grown tired of using them.
"Stop, " he said suddenly, holding up his hand. He swiveled his head, scanning his surroundings with his dull, brown eyes. "How many paces is it from the river?"
"How many paces is what from the river?"
A small portion of his head peered in my direction over the skinny bow of his back. "I believe it is I who is asking the questions little trout, not you. Now how many paces?"
It was obvious that he was growing impatient, but so was I. "I'm sorry, I don’t know the answer to that."
"Didn’t Master Ichiro tell you how many paces it was from the river?"
"He didn’t tell me anything."
"Anything at all?" He turned to face me, displaying an accusing frown.
I silently shook my head.
The old man sighed, scratching his temple. "So he‘s done nothing to prepare you. This is why I have very little respect for many that teach at the Imperial Temple." He sighed again, putting a hand on my shoulder. "But we will keep my thoughts about them just between you and me, hmmm?"
I nodded, and he gave me a firm pat on the shoulder before he turned away and waved me on. "Four hundred paces little trout. That is the number you need to remember. The fox always digs his nest four hundred paces from the river. There are four hundred ways to make tea. And we celebrate our Emperor's reign every four hundred days. You see? It is a lucky number, one which has many uses. Now remember to count each pace as every left step, not every right, that way, you are sure to find your destination."
"What destination is that?"
"Have you already forgotten? Children have such short memories, it’s no wonder that they even remember to eat or to breath. It’s the way to the key young one. It’s the only reason why you have come to me. Now, we have come exactly three hundred and eighty paces. That means we are looking for the key just over that small hill ahead. Come along."
It was not exactly a hill, but rather, a cliff of dirt raised above the ground. It was the height of two people standing atop each other's shoulders with old tree roots snaking out like thorns on a bristle bush. The old man climbed it without the slightest hesitation using the roots as a ladder. I was hardly prepared for such a feat, as I didn’t know climbing was part of the journey. My instinct told me not to trust the strange man, but I decided to risk being the fool and continued to follow him, gritting through the clumps of dirt and bugs that fell upon me.
The old man reached down and helped over the top; and as he lifted me to my feet, I found myself standing upon a very small plateau, like a tall table overlooking the surrounding earth, which had somehow fallen beneath our feet. There was nothing on the earthen patch the old man and I shared. No leaves, no snow, not even wind. Only smooth, untouched dirt, much like yesterday when we came upon the airship and realized that the wind and snow had suddenly calmed the minute we came closer.
As I brushed the dirt from my clothes I came to realize how quiet it was. The sounds of birds and the rustle of the trees I heard before were silenced and all that remained, was the wispy groan of my own heavy breathing.
"Many people don’t realize, " the old man said, "that we are standing at the bottom of a great, invisible ocean. Its currents tell the winds where to blow. It can float a lumbering airship or change the course of a flake of snow. We call it, the Ocean of Ki, and the less educated of us refer to it as, the ether. Very few people have the gift to see and shape its will. Now, my task is to open your eyes, to start you on a path very few people have had the honor of traveling.
Take your box and stand in the center. Hold it in your palms in front of you and wait."
I did exactly as he said and stood in the center of the plateau, holding the box in my open palms as if it were a delicate insect. I expected him to open it, but instead, he paced around me as if expecting something to happen.
"Where’s the key? You said it was here, but I don't see it anywhere." I asked, wondering if this was some sort of trick. "Is it buried in the dirt somewhere?"
"You haven’t listened to anything I’ve said so far have you?"
"I have. I’ve listened to everything you said. You said we‘re standing underneath some kind of ocean.”
He stopped front of me, then leaned forward, aiming his tiny, dark eyes at me. "And what is this ocean's name?"
"Ki. You said it was the Ocean of Ki."
He leaned back as he gave a small chuckle. "Good little trout. Very good. You’ve learned to repeat the things I say. Now, if only I can get you to understand them. That would truly be something I would like to see."
I blinked and looked around, expecting some sort of answer to appear, but all I had was a guess. "Is the Ocean of Ki going to open this box?"
"Aha! Now you show signs of thinking. Perhaps the Imperial Temple will have a use for you yet. But in answer to your question: no. The Ocean of Ki will not open the box, but rather, it is the absence of this ocean that will. You see, the Ocean of Ki is an invisible force that not only lifts things into the air, but also presses down upon us from all directions. It is that force, which keeps that box sealed, pressing in on all of its sides. We have come to this very place because it has no influence here. Think of it as a pocket of air, an empty spot in the ocean."
"If everything you said is true, why hasn't this box opened yet?"
"You’re so impatient little trout. I noticed the crack you made on the box. You were probably trying to break it open. For your sake, I hope you haven’t scratched the precious thing inside, because your master may never forgive you if you did. Now stay exactly where you are and give the box as much time as it needs. Eventually, it will open on its own. This is one of your first lessons. A chienkuu ko knows that his skills and focus are developed through patience."
The old man made his way to the edge of the plateau and started to climb down.
"Where are you going?" I asked, walking towards him. But he put his hand up gesturing to stay where I was.
"I’m going to leave you for a while little trout. I will be back when that box finally opens."
"Wait. Why are you leaving me alone up here?"
The folds on the man's leathery face grew deeper as he gave a wide grin. "Because it's boring up here."
After he disappeared, it wasn‘t long before I found myself growing unsettled by my surroundings. The stillness, the silence. It was hard to believe that several paces away, the wind was whistling amidst swaying braches and the birds were chirping away. Hardly any time passed and already, I found it almost unbearable. I looked down at the box. It was still sealed.
I sat down and placed the box on my lap. I imagined that I was holding a sleeping turtle, waiting for its shell to spring to life and sprout its head and limbs. At least an hour must have passed before I decided to close my eyes and sing a small tune, a patriotic song one of my teachers had taught us in class. I‘d forgotten most of the words, but I did the best I could and hummed some of the parts. I never had a voice for music, but it kept my mind busy and filled the empty, motionless void that surrounded me.
It wasn‘t long before I grew tired of singing. I opened my eyes only to find that the box was still closed. I sighed and looked up at the sky. The wispy snow clouds had mostly disappeared, leaving behind large white clumps amidst a vast expanse of brilliant blue. I discovered how cruel it was to leave me alone with my thoughts as I was suddenly reminded of my sister's ink cloud painting I had lost. She had given me something that she had placed all her heart into, and yet, I had shamed her faith by losing it all too quickly like a cheap, discarded trinket. I wondered if I would ever find
it or if by some miracle, someone would return it. As the clouds rolled by the emotions inside me began to change. Regret gave way to a strange, warm sensation, as if the sky were radiating upon me a new, profound feeling of comfort.
I couldn’t understand it, but up until that moment, my feelings of the sky were as indifferent as watching the leaves fall from the trees. But now, gazing into the vast, unending blue, following the formless puffs of clouds as they steadily drifted by, made my spirit soar with a renewed sense of purpose. I wondered if the change in my body, the very nature of my newly-found gifts had some kind of influence with even my emotions. Whatever the reason, at that moment, and for the rest of my life, my true feelings of the clouds and the sky would become as cherished and sincere as my own love for my Sister.
A clicking sound snapped me from my trance. I looked down and saw the box begin to rattle and shake loose of whatever it was that was keeping it sealed. What was once a sturdy, lacquer box suddenly fell apart in my hands. What remained was a glass, transparent ball so perfect in shape, so smooth and without blemishes, I thought how it was that only the gods could have created such a thing. As I held it up to the sun, the ball changed color. It became a gleaming, radiant orange-white, then it turned transparent again as I placed it down on my lap.
A moment passed before the sound of rustling could be heard below as the head of the old man peered over the edge, like a curious gopher. "What do you think little trout? What do you think of your tamma?"
"How did you come back here so quickly? And how did you know the box was open?"
He helped himself over the edge and dusted himself off. "I know everything; even the time it takes for those little boxes to open." As he approached, he held out his hand. "Now, let me see that."
After I gave it to him, he held it high above his head, inspecting it with his dark, listless eyes. "Magnificent. You should be proud of this one little trout, for this is probably the best Tamma I have ever seen. You will most definitely be the envy of your classmates."
"What’s a Tamma?" I asked after he handed it back to me.
He gave another wide grin, one that stretched his face like rubber. "I can’t tell you."
"Why not?"
"Because, that is something you have to figure out for yourself. Look at it, examine it, feel it with your palm. Once you’ve figured out what it is, call out to me. I will return and tell you whether or not you are right. Until then, I think I’m going to take a little walk down the river." He turned and began climbing down over the edge. "And don't forget little trout. Don’t leave this place, not until I’m satisfied with your answer."
Yet again, I found myself confused and alone. I looked at the Tamma, wondering why Master Ichiro had sent me here. Surely there was a purpose to all of this. Even though I didn’t understand much of anything, I still felt compelled to finish this task. There was a reason for such an object to exist, and it seemed important enough that every chienkuu ko had to understand it. But why was it important? What did it do?
At first, I marveled at its perfection, its unblemished craftsmanship. When it wasn't held against the sunlight, the ball was absolutely clear, almost invisible.
The longer my eyes remained locked upon the object, the hazier I felt. A tinge of light-headedness overcame me, like I was drifting away. My eyelids started to droop. My body waved to and fro. Then, unexpectedly, I fell asleep.
The sun was setting when I woke up. I rubbed my eyes and looked around, even more confused than before. My tamma was lying on the ground a few paces away, so I scurried over to pick it up. I brushed away the dirt and gazed at it again, resuming my desperation in attempting to figure out what it was. My mind drew a blank and for a moment I thought that I would be stuck on that tiny plateau until I starved. My vision started to blur and I found myself, dozing off yet again. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes some more. As my sight came back into focus I noticed this time that there was a strange image reflecting off the ball’s glassy surface. It looked like a swarm of beetles. Then I realized that it was reflecting something above me. I immediately looked up.
Overhead, was a fleet of tiny boats soaring just above the treetops. They moved along gracefully, hovering and swaying about like a school of fish. In each of the boats were two older children, a boy at the front moving his hands and upper body, guiding the craft, and a girl, sitting peacefully in the back watching the boy's movements. I continued to stare, surprised and bewildered.
"Have you figured out what that thing is yet, or are you too busy gawking at the advanced students with their sky boats?" The old man had returned, unceremoniously lifting is wiry body over the edge of the plateau.
"Sky boats?" I asked, still amused by the spectacle above.
"Yes. Those are the students from the River Temple. Once you’ve graduated from the Stream Temple, that‘s where you‘ll be heading next. They’re making their way to the main temple for dinner, along with all the other students from the other schools. It’s customer that everyone gather there for evening meals. Now, I believe you have some sort of task I asked you to perform."
He tapped the back of my head, as my attention was still towards the sky.
"I’m sorry," I said. "But I don’t have an answer for you yet. The only thing I’ve learned from this thing, is that it makes you sleepy."
He took the ball from my hand and waved it in front of my face. "You are correct. If it isn‘t used properly, it will dull your mind and put you in a trance. But that is not really what a tamma is supposed to do."
"How could I possibly know what it’s supposed to do just from looking at? All I see is a glass ball. What more is there to it? I’m just a boy and I’m not as smart as you probably think I am.” The old man's face seemed to light up all at once, just like Han's when he thought of something cheerful to say. “I think you’re done little trout. You’ve passed the test."
"But I haven’t figured out what a Tamma is yet."
"Of course you haven't. You’re just a boy. You can’t understand the mysteries of the universe until you’re at least as old as I am." He put the ball back onto my hand, still gleaming, like he was congratulating me for some grand deed. "This was just a simple test of the mind and spirit. You see, when children are chosen, they often let their pride consume them. The misguided ones think that just because they see and move certain things, they somehow believe that they are entitled to being treated better than everyone else. I’ve taken many of those students here, and have given them test after test. For some of them, days would pass before they learned the meaning of humility. I’m surprised with you however, as this is the fastest I‘d ever let a student go."
He paused, letting his praise sink in before he continued. "Now I will help you learn about that object you hold in your hand. Look at it carefully. There’s something hidden within it that only people like you can see. It appears only with a certain amount of focus. Remember, the trick to using your special talent is not in how hard you see things with your eyes, but how disciplined you are in seeing things with your mind. Gaze at it as closely as you can, but do not expect something to appear by will alone. Let it surface naturally with the help of your second sight."
I was anxious, restless, uneasy, even hungry, but I did as he told me, waiting as patiently as I could for something to happen, something to appear. I tried to relax, breathing slowly and hoping that I would not be put to sleep again.
Then, as if something were surfacing from the murky depths of a pond a small sliver of blue light began to appear from within the ball. It quivered for a moment then began to spin about like a propeller. After a while, the spinning stopped, then it swung to and fro as if caught by some breeze.
"I see something," I said quietly. "There’s a light inside, and it’s pointing to something."
"The Ocean of Ki changes its flow constantly and moves with the motions of the earth. What you have in your hand is a sort of compass and it is pointing out the direction of its flow. This tamma will be invaluable to
you. You must keep it at your side for as long as you serve the Emperor. It will guide you, and help enhance your skills."
I looked up at him and gave a reverent nod.
The old man gave a big sigh and motioned towards the direction of the river. "We’re finished here Little Trout. It’s time you go back to the temple. Everyone will be waiting for you there."
"What about you? Aren't we all supposed to gather for dinner?"
His expression grew distant, as if his mind had wandered onto other concerns. "I have to stay and prepare for the next student. Move along now. And remember, four hundred is the key to all things."
Even though he’d made it apparent he didn‘t care much for formalities, I gave him a deep bow, then climbed down the side of the small dirt rise. I counted exactly four hundred paces to the river, and followed it to the red-banner-marked trail.
When I arrived at the temple, I saw more of the same sky boats I had discovered earlier, landing in swarms onto the main courtyard. The neatly paired boys and girls stepped off the boats wearing uniforms much more intricate and colorful than mine. Their shirts and pants had wavy, curling patterns that looked like flowing water, woven with gleaming blue thread. They wore wispy, blue sashes about their waists, and the girls had all manner of jewelry adorning their hair.
All kinds of lanterns made of wood, paper and metal, hung lit from every window, wall and ceiling across the temple grounds. Most lit the paths and walkways. Unlike the electric lights that I had become accustomed to at home, these flickered and made moving shadows across every surface. It made the buildings seem to move and blink like lazy creatures, expectant of their human occupants.
The hollow sound of a gong reverberated through the air and a green robed man called out from the middle of the courtyard. "It is the hour of the dog. The halls are now open for our evening meal."
People flowed out in streams from the surrounding buildings and joined the students which had arrived on the sky boats as they made their way to the Great Hall.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but I had come to stand out among the other students, who had begun to crowd around me. My clothes were dirty and spotted with small bits of mud. There was a tear on my delicate pants where I had tripped and fallen onto my knees. My face didn’t look any better, as my cheeks were streaked with small, brown smears and my hair was messy and clumped at odd angles.
Sky of Paper: An Asian Steam-Driven Fantasy Tale Page 12