Sky of Paper: An Asian Steam-Driven Fantasy Tale

by Matthew Seaver

  He stepped back, looking up at the stars, reveling in the silence, as if pretending that I’d already answered his question. Then he spoke again, his eyes still turned longingly to the sky.

  "Tell me," he said changing the subject again," what is it like to be as free as you?"

  He seemed to be querying both the stars and myself.

  I suspected, that just like his previous question, he did not intend for me to answer, because after short time had passed, he lowered his gaze and said, "let's race again. I bet that even after a thousand years of training, you still wouldn't be able to beat me."

  Of the many countries littering the Kin Ju continent, it was the Eastern Kingdom that had been chosen by Dae Jung as the new safe haven for our Young Emperor.

  We came upon the capital like a mighty phoenix with fiery wings, and a writhing tail gleaming brightly amidst a stiff breeze. For those who turned their eyes skyward that day, they would have seen just that, for aboard our nation's divine ship, all the chienkuu ko, including myself, were performing a complex, grand fire dance that lit the heavens like the morning sun.

  Fireworks flung from the decks while the children manipulated the sparks and flames from their volleyed explosions. Some were talented enough to turn the fizzling embers into pillars of fire, molding them like clay, so that their glowing sparks flattened across either side of the ship to form beautiful, flaming wings. The long, wavy tail that streamed from the farthest point at the back of the ship was aflame with magenta, red and indigo, flowing forth from enormous, man-sized sparklers, bolted to long planks that extended several paces from the deck. Like a tamer, commanding the wild nature of a monstrous serpent, Lai and Etsu lashed the fiery tail about like a whip. To have only known each other for several days and yet, perform with such skill, left me wondering how truly destined they were to be paired.

  Our arrival was greeted with the cheers and welcome cries of the people below. A spectacle of streamers and evening lamps waved about while the palace ahead lit up the sky with its own glorious shower of fireworks.

  Though every chienkuu ko were tasked with their own part in this wondrous display, Kassashimei and I had been made to do but a small, menial portion of it.

  Some Imperial fireworks were not rockets, but rather bombs, terribly large and extremely heavy. Because of their bulk and weight, no amount of rocket propellant could ever hope to send them skyward. Once they were lit, it was our lone job to use our levitation skills to toss them as high and as far as we could.

  Standing upon the center deck, Kassashimei and I catapulted half a dozen or more at a time into the air, making sure they spread about evenly before they burst apart in spectacular star-like patterns. Even though I’d previously imagined myself honored with other tasks, such as shaping and flapping the flame-formed wings on either side of the ship, or even whipping about the blazing tail at the aft, I was all too content with humbly tossing volleys of bombs.

  Kassashimei however, looked hardly amused. Though she followed my hand motions and diligently made sure every bomb flew as they should, she kept a sour look, as if she’d dropped her favorite bit of pickled fish from her rice bowl and she were watching it disappointedly as it lay dirty on the ground.

  Unlike myself, she ignored the grand spectacle around her. Even so, I continued to tease her by rattling the prayers beads on my arm and pretending to ignore her stark disapproval.

  When we landed, an enormous procession of some eight thousand scholars and officials waited stoically in neat rows and columns to greet us. At a distance, I thought they were soldiers carrying long weapons, but in truth, under each of their arms were in fact large, wooden scrolls. As we stepped down the ramp, I found myself captivated by the over-sized robes that plumed outward from their sleeves and waists. The officials of the Eastern Kingdom were certainly much more over-dressed than the ones I’d seen back at Rui Nan.

  How awkward it felt to be in another land, where all familiar things were like memories left in some distant season. It was the first time I’d heard so many people speak a language that was not my own, and when Dae Jung greeted one of the foreigners, he spoke back in a dialect I could barely understand.

  The palace itself projected a menacing aura.

  Instead of the brightly glossed wood and vibrant colors that I’d grown accustomed to, the walls and buildings were made of dull, rough-cut stone and marble. There were fine carvings of stone and molded bronze all depicted lions and other large, cat-like animals. Their frozen expressions snarled, as if provoked by our presence. I stayed close to Ren Tzu who remained ever vigilant over Kassashimei and I.

  Ceremonial drums bellowed across the vast courtyard, and, from the palace that sat atop a long field of steps, came forth a sea of people dressed in gold and silver, carrying banners that glinted brightly against the lantern lights. As they emerged from the palace's massive doors, they reverently marched down the steps in a grand procession that must have made the Young Emperor's court officials blush with envy.

  When the King of the Eastern Kingdom finally emerged, the regal-looking men that had earlier greeted Dae Jung announced in their unfamiliar language, the arrival of his eminence. Like a shore receding to the ocean, the vast field of people in the courtyard bowed, including Dae Jung and the rest of those that had emerged from our airship.

  The Young Emperor however, did not.

  He proudly looked on as the King approached, and when the two finally met, they both briefly, but respectfully lowered their heads.

  "My deepest condolences for what has happened to your family and your country," the King consoled in a thick accent. "Your father and I were close friends, and as such, I consider both my Royal Family and your Imperial Family equals. The Eastern Kingdom welcomes you."

  Though the king greeted the Young Emperor, the ceremony was merely a formality, as it was Dae Jung that had been appointed to properly negotiate relations between the Imperial and Royal Families.

  At times the Young Emperor simply sat beside him while he spoke with various court officials and other important people. Other times, Dae Jung spoke in private while the Young Emperor was left to roam aimlessly about the palace.

  All the while, without a ship to fly, I had become nothing more than a decorative piece, subject to the whims and amusements of the people that lived in this foreign land.

  A few days had passed, and I was sitting on a bench in the palace garden while the other chienkuu ko kicked a ball around, enjoying themselves amidst flowers that bloomed in various shades of red and shimmered against the midday sun. Two maidens from the Royal court were sitting across from me, regarding my presence with obvious curiosity. They seemed amused by the silver in my eyes, as they whispered to one another then giggled as if meaning to mock me.

  Kassashimei was in another part of the garden, doing some sort of ritual that involved waving a feathered stick around. She said she was seeking favor with the spirits of this strange land. Ren Tzu, who was more concerned with her strange hobbies than me, watched over her, while I was left alone with my boredom.

  "What do you want?" I said to the two girls, doing little to hide my annoyance.

  They didn’t bother to answer. I doubted they even understood me.

  The older of the two took me by the shoulders and proceeded to push me along to the far end of the garden. Unsure of their reasons, I let them take me to a magnificent looking gazebo that sat at the edge of a whispering stream. Underneath its sloped, stone-colored roof was a wooden floor polished to a fine, reflective sheen. Even the few petals and leaves that drifted onto the floor seemed to accent its simple beauty.

  "I heard that children with eyes like yours can make the leaves dance on a windless day," the older of the two said. "Can you do that here? Right now?"

  "Is that why you brought me here?" I growled.

  They laughed, nodding excitedly.

  "No, I will not." My tone was just as serious as my steps, as I proceeded to leave the gazebo.

  "Are all ch
ildren from Rui Nan as rude as you are?" she taunted. "Everyone says there's magic to be found on your island and it is children like you that harness it. Maybe it’s nothing more than stories and rumors."

  "You think I'm some sort of toy to be played with?" I said facing them. "I may be just a boy, but I know ignorant people when I see them."

  I flung my arms in protest.

  They gasped in surprise when a sudden gust blew into the gazebo and cleaned away the debris that lay scattered on the floor. They turned to me wide-eyed and I replied with little care for what they probably thought was more magic than just a coincidental act of nature.

  After a moment, the older one gave a mischievous grin and procured from her sleeve a tamma; my tamma. I immediately looked down and found my tamma bag empty. Somehow, she’d stolen it.

  "Do as we ask of you, or you won't have this back," she chided.

  I growled again and went for the object in her hand, but she turned and ran. Spurned by their laughter, I gave chase as we sprinted down the stream, towards the grand steps of the palace.

  Outlining the royal building, there were many smaller courtyards, all adorned with banners that flashed the royal seal and connected by enclosed hallways, which lead to the main palace building itself. Undaunted, we recklessly charged through each individual enclosure.

  In one courtyard, there were scholars practicing their calligraphy with large ink brushes on vast rolls of paper. The teacher scolded us as we went by, but the two young ladies predictably ignored him. In another, musicians were playing stringed instruments I’d never seen before, bowing melodies that were as haunting as they were strange. They were entertaining some sort of formal reception. Some of the attendees I recognized from our ship. They all glanced in our direction, somewhat confused by our brief visit. Still, in another, much larger courtyard at the base of the main palace building, were soldiers practicing drill. These however, were not the royal guards that were normally dressed in armor for ceremony, but rather, they were modern warriors in military uniforms parading rifles and bayonets, rather than spears and long-handled blades.

  One of the officers ordered us to halt. The female thieves froze at the man's forceful words, and the older one dropped my tamma onto the hard, stony ground.

  The transparent orb gave a loud, nauseating crunch.

  Fearing the worst, I ran for my precious possession, but was swiftly held back by one of the soldiers. I tried to pull away, but his firm grip would not budge.

  The officer approached, bellowing questions in the kingdom's language. When he saw my confused, desperate gaze, he paused and regarded me with discerning eyes. He must have thought how strange my clothes looked and realized that I was not from his country.

  "Let me go," I demanded.

  The soldier struck me across the face. Even though he didn’t understand my words, the tone of my voice was enough to offend him. But I didn’t care. My tamma, the symbol of all I had accomplished, was stolen and I would have it back.

  "Give me back my tamma," I cried out.

  The officer grunted and proceeded to the glass ball lying on the ground. As he picked it up, I noticed that there was indeed a crack; a terrible, terrible blemish torn deep into its perfect curved surface. Seeing this fueled my temper, and like a caged tiger taunted with a piece of meat, I freed myself by kicking the soldier in the shin and ran towards the officer, shoving him to the ground. As I reached for my tamma, the officer's boot struck hard into my chest, which knocked the wind from my lungs.

  I fell to the ground as the officer got up, yelling obscenities, then kicked me as I lay curled on the ground.

  After dusting himself off, he turned his back, bowed to the two girls and handed them my tamma.

  "You can't let them have that. That's mine!"

  The soldier beside me responded by pressing his heel painfully against my shoulder.

  I was still struggling when I was lead back into the garden. Ren Tzu came rushing towards me and freed me from the soldier's grasp. He stood diligently between me and the officer, demanding an explanation as he spoke fervently in their language; and after a while, he bowed slightly then escorted me back to the ship.

  My punishment was swift, but it was no less painful. I was laid out against the wall of the one ship's storage rooms while one of the servants struck me hard across the back with a wooden rod padded with rough leather. Dae Jung watched patiently, unmoved by my pained cries. After he was sufficiently satisfied with the amount of bruising on my back, he called the servant away and we were left alone. I slumped to the ground, swallowing my tears and biting my tongue so he wouldn’t hear me whimper.

  "Had you have been an adult of proper standing, you would have endangered the delicate relationship between us and the Royal Family," Dae Jung said sternly. "But fortunately, you are just a boy. That officer you offended demanded that he punish you personally. You should be grateful that the rod upon your back was struck by us, and not by some soldier carving out his pride from your skin.

  Now stand up.

  If you’re going to cry, do it in your quarters or while you sleep tonight. Do not dare show your tears in front of me."

  I rubbed my eyes while I kept the urge to sulk at bay. My face was already hot and sticky from the tears that already forced themselves upon my cheeks, but somehow, after allowing myself a short period of reflection, I managed to pull myself back together.

  I stood and looked at him squarely in the eyes.

  "I won't cry," I said, knowing that my tear-soaked face had already betrayed me. "And those soldiers deserved what I did to them. Those girls took my tamma-"

  "Those girls are the King's nieces," Dae Jung interrupted. "And that tamma now belongs to them. I’ve spoken to their mother, the King's sister. It is now a gift of gratitude for their kindness and hospitality. So if you have had any sentiment attached to that object, it is best that you let it go."

  "That tamma was given to me from Ai. It was hers. She entrusted it to me."

  "Then you had better apologize to her after you’re done apologizing to me. Anymore disobedience, and I may start to think favorably about allowing that royal officer have his way with disciplining you."

  "If you ask me, I think that tamma Ai gave you was broken anyways," Kassashimei condescended.

  She was sitting on a tatami mat next to the table in the center of the room, tying off a few more feathers to her ritual stick, while I lay idly on my futon. My back was still aching from the whipping I’d received earlier that day, so I braced the back of my head up against the wall, trying to keep my bruises from rubbing up against the bedding.

  I held up my new tamma, gazing at it as if I’d just been given a rotten grapefruit. It was not an Imperial Tamma. There were no marks or symbols carved into its surface. Instead, it was smooth and unimpressive. Simply looking at it, gave me an unsettling feeling, like I was being mocked, insulted for having one of my most valuable possessions stolen and replaced by such an unspectacular trinket.

  "I think it was for the better that they took it from you," she continued. "It's given you nothing but bad luck. You've crashed more times than you should have with that stupid thing."

  "If I remember right," I said. "You weren't exactly blaming the tamma for all the times we dropped from the sky."

  "It's true, a lot of that was your fault."

  "My fault? You're my shyo mah. If I’ve failed in anyway, then that means you share just as much of the blame.

  She pulled one of the decorative beads from her stick and threw it a me.

  "It was your fault, not mine. Besides, I’m sure that tamma was faulty. Relying on it and its flaws has caused you too many mistakes. I'm glad that you have something that finally works for once."

  "No. This thing won’t do." I tossed the ball and the box it came in, unceremoniously onto one of the shelves in the room's tiny closet.

  An irritating void had grown within me, an emptiness that I felt everyone was too ignorant to understand. Just as a warrio
r and his sword were one entity so was I with my tamma. How could someone like Ren Tzu think of himself whole if his blades were taken away from him? I decided that I would accept nothing less than what was once mine; that I would do whatever I could to regain what I’d lost.

  At that moment, I felt Kassashimei's ritual stick tap unceasingly against the side of my head. Annoyed I turned around, intent on snatching it from her, but froze when Kassashimei hissed at me to hold still.

  "And now, with the power of my stick, I shall read your thoughts." I suppose she was being sarcastic. With all the bizarre things she’d done, it was difficult for me to tell whether or not she took things seriously at times. "Aha! You're going to take back your tamma aren't you?"

  "And what if I am? Are you going to tell on me?"

  She laughed, prodding my back with the end of her stick. I grumbled and tried to take it away from her, but she quickly hid it behind her back, grinning broadly.

  "You are my shyo mu. How could I ever betray you? Besides, if you really want it back, then I’m helping you."

  "I thought you said that tamma was bad luck."

  "It is. But I think a little misfortune now and then is better than seeing you pout like a sad little hermit. Not to mention, I'm getting tired of acting so prim and proper to these Kin Ju people."

  I was going to tell her that this burden was my own, that this task would be done by me and no one else. But there was a look about her, an aura of satisfaction that almost dared me to keep her from coming with me. She would follow me, no matter how much I protested.

  A few nights later, the Young Emperor roused me from my sleep, just as he’d done a few nights before, and a few nights before that. There was a sort of enjoyment he’d found in these evening meetings. After all, being alone with no family, and no one young enough in the imperial court to play with must have left him with an unbearable measure of both boredom and despair.

  During the day, amidst his study and royal duties, there was no free time for him to act as a normal child should. I suppose the same could be said about my life as well, but his was one of constant diligence, of tireless attention and focus to learning the details of divinity and the right to rule. He was a great and important figure, and such devotion to that image meant that he would never see a life of simple content. Going to a normal school with friends and playing in the forests and hills were judged as belittling to his position, at least by Dae Jung. And so I was his only connection to these things, a window to his lost innocence.