Sky of Paper: An Asian Steam-Driven Fantasy Tale

by Matthew Seaver

  It was difficult to make sense of why I was here, mentored by mysterious students and given a shyo mah that was hardly willing to cooperate. I should have been just as frustrated as I was confused. But strangely, I felt as though none of that mattered. I had flown, and in my fleeting moments nestled against the night sky, I found myself fulfilled, as if I had found a new home high above the Earth. I wanted more. I wanted to go up again, to selfishly experience that feeling once more

  It was customary to separate the shyo mu and the shyo mah immediately following any accident or misfortune. Lai said it was to allow time for us to pray away any curses that may have fallen between us and to meditate and regain our focus. I suppose it was also his way of ending our lessons for the night.

  The Boar woke us early the next morning. He stomped down the hall in a great hurry, sliding open all of our doors and calling for us to get dressed. I told him that I had to leave soon, to serve tea to Master Lu.

  "He’s not your teacher," he said in his usual growl.

  We followed him outside where we found the air and sky soaked with rain. To any person living in the lowlands or in the city, rain fell with little fanfare and was as predictable and uninteresting as the brown eyes on a commoner‘s face. But for the people that resided in the temple, the experience was as enthralling as it was peculiar.

  In those days, the rain fell differently in the mountains. Instead of falling together, each droplet followed its own path. Some moved quickly, some moved slowly, while others seemed to hardly fall at all, as if they were suspended in time. We were told that as we came closer to the heavens, the ether made the rain and some of the clouds move as if they had somehow lost their purpose, wandering aimlessly and skittering about in odd directions like ink blown across a piece of paper. To most people, they were left only with their imaginations to answer such curiosities. But to children like us, we were shown its secrets, a reason why as to why such things happened.

  We were lead across a covered walk way to the edge of a great cliff where a vast length of sky could be seen, without the trees or patches of rock to block our view. We stood in a sleepy daze, some of us, our eyes barely open. The Boar inspected every one of our faces and made sure we were awake by giving a harsh tap to our temples with the blunt end of his pipe.

  I remember reading an article a few decades later that was published by a famous foreigner named Corbin Aspen. He was passionate about studying the lives of the chienkuu ko. In it, he said that one of our greatest weaknesses was rain. He claimed this was so, because the shyo mu found it most difficult during this time, to see the Great Ether. The person he interviewed either led him astray on purpose in order to keep the veil of mystery over our secret lives, or he was just as clueless about us as his interviewer.

  In truth, it was easiest to see the Great Ether when it rained. Waves and swirls and dancing currents, invisible to normal people shined and shimmered the most when water fell from the sky. It was for this very reason that we all stood outside and gazed, with great meditation, out from the cliffs of the temple in order to discipline our second sight. From that point on, regardless of the time of day, when it rained, the Boar would have us visit that cliff in order to further train our timid eyes .

  That morning, it became much clearer to me how, not just droplets of water, but other objects of the sky followed the path of the ether. Blue, swirling images appeared, just like that stormy night in Rune, except their presence was much brighter, much more alive. Where the ether flowed thick, like honey, the rain drops sunk lazily to the earth and where the currents were found spinning and flaying, the rain swayed to and fro like feathers excited by an angry breeze. I barely had to force my sight to see it all.

  Across all our faces were strewn looks of surprise and bewilderment. Even Kidou managed to let go of his normally serious demeanor.

  "Everyone keep your eyes forward," our teacher commanded. "Look to the sky and nowhere else."

  Han prodded at my attention by quietly hissing in my direction. As I looked at him with cautious eyes, he smiled broadly and pointed over the railing. I took his suggestion and we slowly gazed over the side being careful as to not draw the Boar‘s watchful eyes.

  My body froze immediately, realizing that we were standing at the very edge of a great abyss. Rocky outcrops, boulders, not even tree tops could be seen piercing the unending darkness that drifted far below our feet.

  "How high up do you think we are?" I whispered.

  "I don't know." Han shrugged his shoulders. “But there’s probably a demon down there, waiting for the next poor soul to fall into his grasp."

  I knew he was joking, but the very image a demon walking the depths had given me a shiver, and I quickly stepped back from the railing. Suddenly, a harsh hand grasp my shoulders and shoved me back to the edge. Afraid that I might fall over, I screamed and quickly collapsed onto the metal railing, wrapping both my arms around it as tightly as I could.

  "Terr, what are you doing?" the Boar gruffed.

  He pried me away from the edge and planted me firmly back in line with the rest of the students. I knew it had been Masa, because across his face was smeared a triumphant smirk. I yelped as the Boar twisted my ear. His beady green eyes narrowed and the horrid, smoky stench of his breath caused my nose to curl. For a moment, I thought he was about to discipline me, but instead, he pressed down on my shoulders and told me to sit. He then instructed everyone else to do the same.

  "This is a time of meditation. This is also a time of opportunity. A rain such as this does not occur often. Do not squander chances like these. Use it to exercise your sight, because the faster you improve, the less likely you are to fail."

  While he spoke, I noticed that his attention seemed particularly centered upon me. Even after he had finished speaking, he paced away with his gaze locked in my direction. I pretended that I didn’t notice and followed him along the edges of my sight.

  We sat underneath the covered walk way and meditated upon the rain until the pale sun sat beneath the low, ink-colored clouds. The Boar waited until the rain had slowed to a drizzle, and then, and only then, did he become satisfied enough to dismiss us.

  As I got up and proceeded to leave with the rest of the students, a piercing voice called out to me.

  "Where do you think you’re going?"

  It was Paya, trotting towards me like a tiger about to strike its prey. The Boar stepped in her path, forcing an exchange of words with her. After a few moments, he seemed to agree with whatever she was demanding and allowed her to take me away.

  I learned, that even though she did not look it, she was a terribly fast walker, and I had difficulty keeping up with her.

  "You're late Terr," she said harshly. "You are very late; and on an extremely important day at that. Master Lu has had to keep everyone waiting on account of you. When you serve him his tea, be sure to present your sincerest apologies."

  "Why do I have to apologize? Why can't he have someone else make his tea?"

  "You are going to apologize, because if you don't, he will issue a much harsher punishment to you, one which you may never be relieved of for the rest of your days here."

  "It's just tea. I can’t see how serving tea is more important than my training."

  She stopped to give a firm twist of my wrist. "That's enough. No more talking until we‘ve reached the temple. Do you understand?"

  She shook my arm for good measure and, feeling the sting of her grip, I reluctantly nodded.

  We came to a large, wooden boat that sat docked in the center of the River Temple’s courtyard. The odd way it was shaped, made it almost indistinguishable from the other buildings. It had an exotic, flattened hull and it gleamed of smooth, black lacquer. There was a square shaped structure in the aft section that had a smooth, curved roof, which made it look like a small house. In the center, was an enormous gazebo, decorated with various flags and banners. I was surprised by the vessel's size as it almost could be mistaken for a small ship. But the biggest
surprise of all, was the sight of Ai, standing regally at the top of the boarding ramp.

  "Miss Paya and the tea servant have arrived," an official looking man announced at the bottom of the ramp.

  Both Paya and I gave bowed.

  "Miss Ai, I deeply apologize for keeping your father waiting," Paya said. "I’ve found the tea boy. Please, inform your father that we are now prepared to leave."

  In a careful, but graceful manner, she shuffled down the ramp, her gleaming, gold threaded-silk robe rippling behind her. "If you would, please inform Master Lu in my stead. I shall escort the boy myself."

  Paya looked at Ai with a mixture of protest and hesitation, but knew better than to contradict the daughter of Master Lu. She gave a low, silent nod, then went on ahead of us.

  "Terr, please follow me." Ai’s listless, yet alluring eyes glanced in my direction before she proceeded ahead of me.

  I followed her as closely as it was considered polite, making our way off the ramp and onto the aft deck. We walked the length of the boat and proceeded below deck, passing a number of small compartments.

  "Ai, " I said quietly. "Please forgive my rudeness, but I thought you were blind."

  "I am," she said without looking back.

  "Then how is it that you can walk about without anyone helping you?"

  She stopped suddenly. When I saw the serious expression on her face, I immediately felt guilty. I wondered if my question had offended her somehow.

  "Being blind doesn‘t mean that I am without sight. I can certainly see you and the world around me, but not in the way that most people see it. I see things in such a way that you do not understand yet."

  "What do you mean?"

  She did not answer. Instead, she stepped on, leaving the mystery of her words lingering in my mind.

  The room we came to was eerily dark, lit sparsely by a single dim lantern tucked away in a corner. A wide, expansive bed sat at one end of the room, while a short, finely crafted tatami table stood at the other. Towards the center, was a chest of wood and bronze, which she urgently approached.

  "Terr, please close the door," Ai said in a hushed voice.

  After she was sure that I had shut the door, she opened the chest and pulled out a small, leather bag.

  "I fear for my father Terr, " she said forlorn. “Ever since his return from Rune, he's been acting strange, like he’s gone mad."

  "I can‘t say I‘ve known him for very long, but if you would excuse me for saying, he‘s been a very difficult person to serve tea to."

  "Listen to me. Listen to me very carefully. My father does not want you here. He never did. He did not go to Rune for you or for your friends. He went there for someone else. He went there to save his daughter, my sister. You have to understand; she was living in your village when she became very ill, but he was forbidden to go to her. The only way he could go to your village, was to convince the Temple Council that there were gifted children there, children like you. But by the time he arrived, my sister was too far gone. Even the best doctors in the capital couldn’t keep her from fading away. She died shortly after you arrived."

  The day we came to the temple flashed in my mind. I remembered running into the ship for my sister’s painting and seeing the sick, wheezing girl lying helpless in Master Lu's quarters. I had mistaken her for Ai. The two seemed almost alike.

  My heart sank, realizing that my coming to the temple was only because of chance and circumstance. How arrogant I was to think that I was important enough to come here, when all along, Han, Kidou and I, had only been brought to the temple on a desperate man’s whims. I never considered how selfish I was being at that moment. Master Lu had lost a daughter and I was only thinking about myself. I didn’t even give my condolences. Instead, curiosity overwhelmed me and I asked Ai a question.

  "Why was he forbidden to go to Rune?"

  "I thought you knew," she said in a surprised tone.

  "Knew about what? Tell me."

  She sighed, cupping the mysterious leather bag in her hands and holding it close to her chest. "Things change Terr. Maybe you don't know, but there are some places in Rui Nan that are forbidden. Rune is one of them. Just know that you are very fortunate to be here right now."

  "Why are you telling me all this?"

  "Give me your tamma," She said abruptly.

  I did as she asked. In return, she handed me her leather bag, then turned around and proceeded to tuck away my tamma into her chest.

  "This way father will never know that I gave mine away," she said.

  I opened the bag and inside was another tamma.

  "This is yours?"

  "Yes. But now it's yours. This will help you pass Master Lu's Test. It's my own personal tamma. It will reveal to you everything that your second sight cannot, and in time, it will help strengthen it. You see Terr, my father was the one who issued the test. He wants you to fail. He wants you removed from this temple. He blames you for the death of my sister."

  "How can that be? I didn't do anything."

  "Misfortune does not need a reason. He loved his daughter very much and the fact that he could only save her if he came for you, had angered him terribly. He wants revenge. And since he cannot simply lash out at the Temple Council, he's chosen to throw his anger out upon you. But don't worry. As long as you have my tamma, he will not be able to expel you."

  My body grew numb with apprehension. Serving tea to him these past weeks, his looks of resentment, all became much clearer to me. Having confessed so much, her face seemed much dimmer.

  "Thank you," I said with as much sincerity as I could muster. "I'm sorry for your sister."

  "I loved her too Terr, but how can she find peace if my father makes others suffer for her sake."

  Another question burned in my mind as we left the room, one which I imagined she would not answer, but I felt the need to ask anyway.

  "Ai, why is it that you have a tamma? I thought that only boys carried these."

  Her only reply, was a gentle look over her shoulder, followed by a mysterious smile.

  Master Lu and his guests were seated around a long, finely polished tatami table underneath the gazebo that covered the length of the boat’s mid-deck. Among his guests, I recognized Master Hotaka, Paya and the soldier whom I saw barge into Master Lu's room that first morning I began serving tea, General Fung. The others looked very official with their gleaming robes and ornamented military tunics.

  As soon as they noticed our arrival, Ai greeted them a courteous bow, then allowed Paya to guide her to a seat next to her father.

  "You're late," Master Lu seemed reluctant to acknowledge my presence. "All this waiting has made the tea cold. Go back and boil another pot."

  "Don't be too harsh on the child now," Master Hotaka said "After all, he is one of our students and deserves a certain amount of respect."

  Though I sensed a measure of annoyance from Master Lu, he bit his tongue, knowing better than to speak ill the head priest’s opinions and potentially blemish his own reputation.

  "But he is under punishment is he not?" General Fung said, taking a slurp from his sake cup. "I say, be harsh to the boy. He will become a better man for it.” He raised his cup in my direction. “You, bring me more sake and boil more tea as Master Lu has commanded, and be quick about it."

  "General, perhaps it would be best to get one of the servants to do that," Master Hotaka suggested. "I would like to have this young student watch the morning proceedings with us."

  "It hasn't begun yet has it?” The general prodded at the head priest’s request. Unlike Master Lu, it was obvious that the general had little care for the opinions of anyone at the table not wearing a uniform. He gave a slight pause, as if to challenge anyone at the table to answer. “Good then. Then there is still time for this boy to earn his keep; with all the money Rui Nan has invested in his training he could at least serve us a bit of tea and sake."

  Paya stood up. "I will show him to the kitchen."

  As I was led a
cross the deck, I watched as the crew scurried about shouting commands to one another as they prepared the boat to depart. The chienkuu ko assigned to pilot the boat scuffled by, lowering their heads as they passed the officials under the gazebo. Moments later, the deep rhythm of ceremonial drums resonated through the air.

  "What's happening?" I asked innocently.

  "Something important," Paya replied. "Now no more talking. Hurry up."

  In the kitchen, Paya pointed out the ingredients that had already been prepared for the guests. As for Master Lu, she told me create my own mixture for him, just as I had done every morning before. How strange it was that he had chosen not to drink the same tea as everyone else. Certainly, the pre-made tea would taste much better than the strange concoction Master Lu demanded of me. A few moments after she left to attend to the guests, the floor beneath me began to lurch forward, an unmistakable sign that the boat the was taking to the air.

  Alone in the empty room, left only with my thoughts, I began to feel the haunting echoes of Ai's words. She had told me that I was never meant to become a student, that neither me, Han or Kidou were meant to come to the temple and Master Lu would prove it by allowing me to fail in the test next week. If that were to happen, I imagined that it would not be long before Han and Kidou would also follow my fate. Neither of them deserved to experience the tinge of hopelessness I felt at that moment. Whether or not it was the right thing to do, I decided to keep it a secret from them. After all, Master Lu's judgment was that of only one man.

  I felt for Ai's tamma and took it out of its leather pouch, then held it next a porthole. At first, I was hesitant to look at it, then found myself drawn by the strange, eerie way it made the sunlight glimmer off the walls of the room. It was this odd glow that made me wary of its power, and yet, at the same time, emboldened my confidence. The secretive way it had been given to me left me feeling all the more guilty for having it. But I relished in the thought that it had belonged to Ai, making it a precious gift worth cherishing. After a time, I managed to convince myself that I was spending too long looking at it before I reluctantly put it away and set about my duties.