Sky of Paper: An Asian Steam-Driven Fantasy Tale

by Matthew Seaver

  A moment later their cannons fired again. Again, we swept away their volleys. A third and fourth time this happened, but we would not allow a single shell to pierce the Empire’s sacred ship. Lai looked over his shoulder and gave the command.

  "Light them!"

  I turned back to the center deck and watched as pillars of flame shot out from each canister. Every chienkuu ko, including Lai and myself turned and bent the fires to our will until the flanks of our ship were covered with blazing tendrils, reaching out towards the oncoming vessels ahead. As we crossed into their paths, steering close against their hulls, we sent the writhing flames out, like fiery serpents summoned upon our enemies.

  The wood in their hulls splintered and cracked, charring under the intense heat while the metal plates that covered their gun ports and turrets began to warp and bend. Our guards set their rifles to bear and crackled away in scattered volleys. Princess Xiangfeng, who had now joined the ranks of our men, held out her sword, directing the gunfire while the Young Emperor stood at the center, issuing commands, which were repeated and shouted by his aides.

  The opposing ships answered with their own rifle fire, and a hail of bullets littered the deck, sending sprays of splintered wood in every direction. Screaming, the children huddled behind the barricade. The flaming tendrils fell one by one as we sought cover until only Lai, Etsu, Kassashimei and I remained. Each of us lashed at the ships, which had steered to either side of our hull. Though we had hoped to turn the currents underneath them just as we had done with their cannon volleys, we found that they were simply much too large, and to change the ether around them enough to send them falling would cause the same fate upon our ship as well, as all of us, at that moment, were close enough, that we shared the same patch of sky..

  It wasn’t long before the two ships were aflame and clouds of choking, black smoke blanketed us like some grim fog. We coughed and wheezed as the sting in our lungs grew unbearable. My eyes watered. My sight blurred.

  Then, to the surprise of us all, steel hooks darted through the blackness. Bound to ropes, they whizzed across the deck, latching onto railings and poles. Ren Tzu's sword lunged from the smoke and struck away a hook I had not realized was aimed at my chest.

  A sudden lurch followed, as our vessel was being reeled-in with all intent of boarding. Several of our sailors set to the task of cutting at the ropes.

  "We won‘t be able to cut them away in time," Ren Tzu said. "The ropes are too thick."

  "What better task then, to have it be done by one of my own students." The Boar approached through the smoky haze. Though he frowned at the chaos around him he seemed to regard the danger with hardly any interest. He glanced at the distressed sailors. "You men, step away from the ropes." He waited for them to step away, then he directed his eyes squarely upon me. “Well?”

  Kassashimei, who eerily had not shown any hint of fear during the battle, gave a sly smile. Had it been any other moment, I probably would have thought that she was up to some sort of mischief, but this time, there was a strange measure of comfort to be found by it.

  Wasting little time, I swept my arms above my chest and took the flame from one of the few canisters that were still burning, then lashed a fiery stream over the heads of every soul upon the deck. Using the ether to squeeze the flame, the fiery tendrils grew every brighter and ever hotter. Then, swinging it like a mighty sword, I slashed at every rope, snapping each like brittle twigs.

  I spun my open palms, as if shaping an enormous ball, twice the length of my shoulders and proceeded to turn the currents like a whirlwind, braiding every flame from the remaining canisters, concentrating them until it became a single, swirling, white hot mass. All who witnessed shielded their eyes as the light from the flame grew. In my mind, imagined the shape to be a tree whose very center was a spinning, twisting trunk that bloomed at the very top with branches reaching towards the sky. Then in one sudden moment, realizing that I had reached my peak, I swept my arms apart, splitting the blazing tree in two and sending two large columns of fire towards the rival ships that drifted ever closer on our flanks.

  The children screamed, men yelled for cover as the heat grew more intense; but all the while, the Boar looked on with pride.

  The columns stuck against the enemy hulls, piercing wood and metal, until a gash, larger than any cannon shell could ever make, was torn deep into both ships.

  Smoking and in ruins, the hulks careened away, spilling debris onto the lake below. The canisters, the last of their fuel spent, turned into nothing more than a small pile of embers.

  My body sunk, as I no longer had the energy to carry my own weight. Though I was panting heavily, I could still hear the sound of the crew cheering.

  We had won.

  Through the chaos and sheer terror of battle, the Empire’s divine airship had gained its victory. But, as the excitement died away, the terrible feelings I’d ignored finally caught up with me. Like a collapsing dam that once held back all my anxiety and doubt, I felt myself spill over with unbridled emotions and was driven to tears.

  I slowly looked up, hoping to find comfort amongst those around me, but instead, my eyes were greeted with utter shock. As the smoke cleared, I finally saw the Boar unobscured. He was bleeding. A bullet had pierced his chest. All this time, he had pretended that nothing was wrong, and now, he allowed himself fall to his knees. His body slumped over and his pipe clattered upon the deck.

  Chapter 23

  Of the faces from the Imperial Temple I‘d long since forgotten, the image of one specific man has remained in my mind and endured to this very day. In life, I saw embedded within the hardened wrinkles of his proud face, a pair of tiny, bead-like, green eyes that shimmered like water droplets against the sun. He had a pipe of brass and wood that he carried around wherever he went and whenever he smoked it, he was at his most calm, his most reverent. Years of experience and unfathomable wisdom had made him confident in all he did and all he taught. He was my teacher.

  One day, he told me that I was to take a test, one which would prove the worth of my abilities. I never truly understood what he meant and I suspected that even though he had told me that the test was not of his decision, I still wondered if he had a part in its conception. It was because of him, that Kassashimei became a part of my life and he was there to help me, even amidst my failings.

  Seeing that final, satisfied look upon his face as he witnessed the fire I wielded in the protection of the Young Emperor made me wonder, made me hope, that in that moment, I had finally fulfilled his test. I wanted to live just as he did, a man who made his fate his own and left our world without any regrets.

  We cremated his body. As a man who was once like us, a child of the sky, we set his ashes to scatter amongst the wind and clouds.

  Shortly after, my world grew dimmer.

  Mourning the man that had disappeared from my life, I could only think of hopelessness, of how vain everything had become.

  Everyone as well as I, grieved throughout those dark days since leaving Watersbe. An air of loneliness and solemn destitution tugged at our spirits.

  As I awoke each morning, I half-expected to see the Boar waiting for us on the main deck for training, only to realize that it was I who would be teaching in his place. Lai, as well as a few others had been injured during the fight and while he was recovering, it was left to me to train the boys while Ai tended to the girls‘ lessons.

  At first, I had neither the heart, nor the will.

  The Young Emperor had sealed himself inside the throne room and Dae Jung had ordered that the princess be confined to quarters as well, separated from her betrothed and her personal guard promptly disarmed. Broken pieces of wood, glass and metal still lay strewn across the deck and even below, bullet holes and scattered, torn sections of the hull could be found as far back as the engine compartments. Even the charred remnants of the fiery beast I had unleashed upon the opposing ships lay streaked across the outer hull. Along with the Boar, three others had died and an
other quarter of the crew lay injured.

  Certainly, there was no denying that we had gained a victory, but the cheers and joyous feelings we shared that day, died away all too quickly as the somber reality of our situation set in.

  Much of the chienkuu ko who were spared from injury, were simply too scared, shaken by the horrible chaos of the battle to even leave their rooms. The duty of flying the ship had been left to the remainder few who still had the courage to carry on. Where once I had been tasked to serve two or four hours in the ritual room, I was now required to serve six, and then eight. Between flying the ship and taking over the duties of both Lai and the Boar‘s, I found myself strained to the point of fatigued. Whatever spirit remained was slowly chipping away.

  A week after the battle I found myself sitting amongst the crates in the cargo hold gazing at a shrine at the far end of the bay. It had been erected in honor of the Boar and the other three people who had lost their lives. Small candles had been lit around its base and the subtle scent of incense sticks lingered in the air. For a long while, I sat motionless, entranced by an object that was nothing more than a hastily-constructed collection of wood and stone. My mind tried to make sense of things, but it all felt pointless and after a while, my thoughts fell into a blur until I hardly thought about anything at all.

  Any moment, Kassashimei would find me. She always did. Wherever I hid, whenever I sought to be alone, she always appeared, like a hawk stalking a mouse. When she did find me, she would berate me, thinking that I was trying to run away from her. And then she would try to cheer me up.

  I worried about her sometimes. She always seemed to try too hard for my sake. There was an eccentric persistence about her, one that refused to let me be. Why was it that she never grew tired of me, that she always interfered with my affairs?

  She was starting to annoy me.

  The metallic creak of the cargo hold door snapped me from my trance. I turned, expecting to see Kassashimei greeting me with her usual, prideful flair. But this time, it was someone else. Hobbling towards the shrine, bandages covering the burns on his left leg and his left arm, he kneeled and gave a reverent bow to pay his respects. As he got up, he turned, then gave a start when he realized my presence.

  "Terr, where did you come from?" he said.

  "I’ve always been here Lai," I replied. "I see you’re finally out of bed."

  "Yes. Yes I am." He gave a sickly smile as he limped towards me then sighed as he sat down on one of the crates. "Etsu has been looking for you, you know. She’s been trying to talk to you, but all you've done is ignore her. I think she’s more worried about you than she is of me."

  I grunted, barely acknowledging his concern. "I'd better go. I'm supposed to be in the ritual room in half an hour."

  "I think you might have forgotten Terr, but we won." Lai's words gave me pause. "And part of that victory is because of you. Things could have been so much worse had you not been around."

  I was silent for a moment and refused to look at him, then said, "why aren't you angry at me? I made the fire that burned you, that burned other people too. You should hate me for what I did."

  He gave a short, stuttered chuckle. "Oh believe me I did. The minute you unleashed all that fire without even considering that I might be in the way. . . well, as I was laying on the ground shouting and cursing from all the pain, I could only think about doing the same to you. Believe me, I wanted to hurt you in the same way you did to me. But after a few days in bed, calming my nerves, I came to realize that I was actually relieved. It’s still a little hard for me to admit it, but you saved us Terr. I can't hate you for that." When he finally noticed that my eyes were upon him, he playfully shook his bandaged limbs at me. "You think my sister might mind seeing a few battle scars? The burns weren't too bad, but they'll leave enough of a mark, something for me to show-off to the girls."

  I think my expression must have brightened, because he seemed pleased at my reaction. An awkward silence fell between the both of us, so I started turning away.

  "I wouldn’t leave just yet," Lai said. "Etsu has been trying to find you, and since I've discovered you first I suppose I should be the one to tell you. She's asked that Ai find someone else to take your place in the ritual room today. So there's no need for you to be in such a hurry to leave. Etsu is in the atrium right now. You should go see her."

  The atrium sat towards the rear of the ship, behind the center bridge tower, several compartments forward of the engineering section. Because of how close it was located to the most vital parts of the ship, the atrium had become victim to volley after volley of misguided fire during the battle. The glass domes above that had once let in the sunlight, were completely shattered. The glass shards lay strewn across the ground along with bits of soil and broken pottery. Flowers, vegetables, herbs, even small trees; all once lush and beautiful now lay toppled and torn in a disheveled mess. A small, winding path I used to walk on calm days, once meandered throughout the various trees and bushes. It was buried now amongst the ruined mess. The icy wind howled through the holes in the ceiling where the protective glass once was, sending chills through my body and prickling the hairs on my skin.

  I watched as Etsu leaned over to pick up the pieces. Of all the places on the ship, this was her own personal spot, one that she adored and cared for with a passion I admired. She tended to the plants everyday and made sure there was a certain amount of peace to be found here for all those that sought it. And now it was here she found herself once more, hoping to return it all back to what it once was.

  One by one, she mended the toppled plants and piled the soil back upon their roots. She was not alone however. Working beside her was An Wei, Princess Xiangfeng's mother.

  Etsu, ever mindful of the grime and filth, wore only simple cotton trousers and a cotton shirt while An Wei worked in her satin robes, make-up still adorning her face. The older, more regal woman, though content with the chore, seemed completely out-of-place, as if she was occupied with other matters before coming here.

  "Terr," Etsu called out impatiently, "hurry up and help us clean this mess."

  I warily approached, hoping not to step on any branches or snap the stems of certain delicate flowers. For a moment, she eyed me suspiciously, as if at any moment, I might accidentally fall or stumble onto one of her precious plants.

  Her expression was more serious than usual.

  All the more reason why, at any moment I suspected her to lecture me or provide some soothing words over the loss of my teacher. After all, why else would she go through the trouble of freeing me from my busy schedule?

  To my surprise, she did none of that. Instead, she handed me a broom and asked me to sweep up the broken glass. I was confused at first, but as time passed, I fell into the humble rhythm of cleaning and mending. Hours went by, and though I was no where near as studious in my chores as Etsu, I continued to work with a certain feeling of satisfaction. Maybe this really was all she wanted.

  Once in a while I would catch her glancing in my direction with the dirt on her cheeks accenting what seemed to be a playful smirk.

  Once in a while, she would catch me staring at her, and then wave me on to continue working.

  "She's quite pretty isn't she?" An Wei's voice gave me a start. For a moment, I’d forgotten she was there. She‘d been tending to the vegetable garden and replanting the seeds. "I don't blame you for stealing a glance or two. I noticed that a lot of the boys like to stare at her too."

  "It's not like that," I replied hesitantly stamping the broom against the ground in a manner that I thought was sweeping, "I just don't know why she would call me here when I should be flying the ship."

  "I imagine she wanted your help. I told her that the rest of the crew was too busy to take care of this mess, but she was insistent about getting someone to lend a hand."

  "Is that why you helped her?" I asked.

  She smiled delicately. "Actually, it's the other way around. I was strolling about the ship when I came across t
his poor mess. And when I realized that no one was tending to these injured plants I set to taking care of it myself. Then that girl happened by and without so much as a thought, she proceeded to wade into the dirt and started working alongside me."

  "I see. If you would forgive me for being so blunt, I thought Dae Jung had confined both you and your daughter to your room."

  Her smile was unwavering, as if she were hinting at some secret privileges her status granted her. "And what would he do if we ignored his demands? We are of the Royal Family after all. At best, he could only request something of us. The truth is, there’s not much he could do if we choose to walk the decks of this ship as we please. And besides, I'm sure he would not protest at the idea of me taking care of this ship's little garden."

  Etsu came to our side of the atrium with an arm full of broken branches. "Some crew member came by and said that they were going to cover the broken parts of the glass domes with wooden planks. If they did that, the sun’s light would be blocked out and these plants would most certainly die. Thankfully, we saw to it that that would never happen."

  "Oh? How did you convince them?" I asked.

  "Simple. I asked them not to." Another voice diverted my attention.

  I felt my cheeks grow hot as Ai came strolling towards us, down the path that we had just recently been swept clear. Her brightly colored robes shimmered against the shafts of radiant sunlight gleaming through the torn and jagged ceiling. She stopped and slowly lifted her gaze skyward and felt the warmth of the sunlight on her face. After a time, she turned her attention back towards us.

  "At the next port of call," she said, "we will be making the appropriate repairs. The Empire’s divine airship is not to be blemished with patchwork fixes. I will not have it. Lady An Wei, thank you for taking care of the atrium. I had not realized that this place had suffered so much during the battle. Just like every damaged portion of the ship, it must be restored to what it once was."