"It was my pleasure," An Wei said as they both exchanged bows. "I will watch over this place and oversee its restoration. Hopefully, Dae Jung will not think me so intrusive for being here."
"Do not worry. I will speak to Dae Jung. Your help is very much appreciated." She turned to Etsu. "As is yours."
Etsu smiled shyly, half-burying her head behind the bundle of branches in her arms.
"From time to time, I will excuse you from training, but you must use that time to tend to your shyo mu. You must stay close to Lai. He will need you while he heals, and if you have any spare time left. . . well I'm sure you would not hesitate at all to help with Lady An Wei here."
"Of course, I will do whatever I can," Etsu said in an enthusiastic, but subdued tone.
"Terr, if you would please come with me." The politeness in her voice seemed almost forced. She gave a pleasant nod to both An Wei and Etsu and we both proceeded to leave.
"Come back soon Terr," Etsu beckoned in a manner that hinted at something more than a simple request, "we still have saplings to plant."
We strolled along the aft end of the ritual deck where most of the monks were quartered. An often secluded part of the ship, there was little reason for anyone to be there, for it served little use beyond a place for the monks to meditate and rest. All the more reason why Ai chose such a place for us to talk since there was hardly any worry of eavesdroppers as most monks had no need for worldly concerns other than their spiritual well-being, their rituals, and the care of the children. It was there that Ai came to lay bare all the emotions she had hidden from those that most needed her strength.
She pulled out a bit of cloth from her robe and dabbed it against her eyes, catching her tears before they had any chance to show. It was clear to me that she must have spent much of her life learning to mask her true self. At times, her very presence left me in doubt and even awe as I attempted to guess whether or not her feelings were truly sincere. I had never seen her sob before and even then, she hardly made any show of it; barely a tear and not a single sound. She put her cloth away but continued to stare off down the corridor as if she had hardly the will to face me.
"I'm sorry about Master Ichiro," I said quietly.
"Do not use his name so lightly." Her voice burst out in a manner that was completely unlike her. "You have not been with him long enough to mourn him as I do."
Had it been any other person, I most likely would have replied with some words of empathy, but Ai's forceful tone left me with a tinge of shame that drove me to silence. I could hardly will myself to look at her as I felt I had no right to see her so vulnerable.
Finally, she said, "I'm sorry. So much has happened. So many terrible things. It isn't just about losing Master Ichiro." She took a deep breath before allowing her eyes to rest on me. "We are without a place to go Terr. Everything that we had planned, that we had hoped for, did not come to be. Money, supplies, they‘ll most likely be gone soon. Just like Dae Jung, I lie to the crew and the children everyday. I tell them that we have found sanctuary in some city or some foreign delegate awaits us in some country to offer us asylum. In truth, we are alone in this world. Everything that we have worked so hard far is starting to come apart."
There was a hollow feeling in my chest, one which was spurned not by what she said, but by the grim state she was in when she said it. For her sake, I replied with as much confidence as I could muster. "Things can't be as terrible as you believe them to be. What use is there in worrying now? Besides, why are you telling me all this?"
"Because there is no one else. Between Dae Jung's cold, uncompromising nature and the doubt and confusion that all this misfortune has left me, Master Ichiro had always been the brave one. He always knew what to do, even if it meant putting himself in danger; and he always knew what words to use to set my mind at ease. Dae Jung may have pretended to be the master of this ship, but the entire crew knew that it was Master Ichiro that commanded the most respect. I don’t know if you have realized it yet, but you are now my equal Terr. Just as I have, you must watch over the young boys and girls who may suffer further because of us."
"What about Lai? I thought that was his job."
"He. . . he is misguided. You may think of him as a dependable person, but I can sense a certain lack of faith in him. He is troubled somehow, yet curiously, he tries to hide it."
"I don‘t mean to sound disrespectful, but he's lost his sister. Of course he would be troubled."
Her expression grew serious. "No, it's more than that. Something much more serious." She boldly took my hand. "Terr, trust me. You are more worthy than you believe yourself to be. Master Ichiro was always a masterful judge of people, and time and time again, I have listened to him speak well of you. You are meant to do something important, something far beyond what I or any chienkuu ko could ever do. At least that's what he said. I believe him, and so should you."
She took a small leather pouch that was tied to her waste and placed it in my hand. I opened it. Inside, wrapped in a piece of cotton cloth was Master Ichiro's pipe.
***
To this day it sits upon my desk, displayed from within a small, wooden box, which I carved myself. Often, I find myself staring at it and imagining its prior owner looking back upon me with a fondness that has since inspired me through all these years. The fact that I had grown to become the man I am today, was in no small part due to his brief, but profound presence in my life.
***
The days passed, and then weeks. The Young Emperor remained out of sight, behind the sternly sealed doors of the throne room. It was first thought that he confined himself away from everyone else so that he and his council might plan our next destination. But as time passed, rumors spread that it was Dae Jung who kept him away so that he could maintain absolute rule over the ship. The senior officers and crew refused to speak to us so as not to confirm such rumors. As for Dae Jung himself, he too kept mostly out of sight, remaining in the command tower and the bridge throughout most of the day. Though I‘d been assigned to fly the ship countless times, I was only given a direction with little clue as to our destination.
Even Ai grew concerned, for none of us could bear such secrecy. Every evening when the monks rang their chimes, announcing the late hour, Princess Xiangfeng marched down the corridor leading to the throne room in hopes of meeting with the Young Emperor. Yet each time, she was greeted by the guards and escorted away. Everyday, she did this without fail and though Dae Jung grew to know her persistence well, he was unwavering in his decision that none may enter the throne room.
Meanwhile, An Wei and a few others from the Eastern Kingdom continued to pace the halls, impatience laced upon their expressions and in their conversations as I watched them meander about. However, their frustrations seemed lessened somewhat when they occupied themselves by working or meditating in the atrium. Though An Wei dedicated herself to its repair, the task had been left half-finished, as she and her volunteers could only go so far without proper supplies.
Now and then we listened to the radio in the galley. Listening to the foreign music made me all the more curious about the world that drifted below us. Even more so, the strange melodies slowly tugged at my fondness for the country I‘d left behind. Though my sister was gone and I had no other family to go back to, strangely, I’d begun to miss my old life in Rui Nan. I felt that the music only served to disguise the harsh truth of our place in the world. After the music had finished, western voices announced the grim news of the steadily growing war.
The nation of Rui Nan had declared war upon several countries within the Kin Ju continental interior. Expanding from their foothold in the Eastern Kingdom, General Fung and his forces had already begun annexing several nations. It was mentioned that even though Rui Nan was only laying conquest to a few small countries of neutral affiliation, there was a growing sense of wariness and disdain amongst the rest of the world over where General Fung's ambitions would take him next. To our surprise, a recording of one of the general
's speeches was broadcasted, announcing that his conquest was simply one of unification over territories that carried little interest amongst the world's larger powers. He declared to the world that Rui Nan would remain a loyal ally to the people of the main continent, especially to the western powers.
Rumors among the crew gave doubt to his sincerity as did the foreign politicians who commented on the radio.
It would be decades before we would all look back upon his ruthlessness, and though the wounds he‘d lashed upon the world would eventually heal, it would remain tainted with the scars that would leave us in remembrance of the atrocities he had committed. The countries he ravaged and the slavery he imposed upon its citizens would never be forgotten. At that time, however, these were not the words he used. Liberation, freedom, honor, national pride; these were the masks that he used to disguise the ugliness of his war.
While the world guessed as to the morality of his actions, we who lived in exile knew with certainty that he was a man capable of great cruelty.
In the month that we spent adrift in the air with no announced course or guidance, talk concerning waning loyalties amongst the tired crew began to spread. Some spoke of giving up and finding a small village to settle down, while others simply mentioned leaving the ship entirely. There was even a smaller number who thought of returning home to Rui Nan and embrace whatever punishment that awaited them. Whatever the manner of such conversations, it was clear to me that everyone was starting to feel the shame and humiliation of exile, of being nothing more than outcasts, shunned by every country we had sought refuge.
We finally landed in some town far to the west of the Central Mountains. It was an insignificant place, with a name I had long since forgotten. But I do remember that moment standing upon the main deck with the crew and the imperial court gazing up at the balcony that jutted from the base of the command tower. Standing with us was Princess Xiangfeng, her mother, and the rest of her royal ensemble.
Emerging from the balcony was a face all too familiar to me, but with an expression that was dark and filled with doubt. The Young Emperor looked down upon us as if we were estranged visitors upon his ship. He was dressed in his formal robes and though he stood with a small measure of pride, he seemed uncertain of the crowd below him, as if he did not know what to make of our presence. Dae Jung came up beside him looking as regal as ever.
"We will be here for but just a short time," Dae Jung announced, "perhaps two days at most, long enough to resupply and make small repairs. It has been decreed by the Young Emperor that during that time, the members of the Royal Family as well as those affiliated with them are to pack whatever belongings they have and depart this ship. Furthermore-"
"Who are you to make this decision without consulting us first?!" Princess Xianfeng interjected with a fierceness in her voice.
As if anticipating her rudeness, Dae Jung refused to address her directly. Instead, he maintained his attention to the crowd. "This is the decision of the Young Emperor and as such, must be carried out with absolute vigilance."
"No," the princess interrupted again ", you made this decision not him. How dare you pretend to speak on his behalf."
The Young Emperor seemed more like a statue than a person. He stood beside his advisor, silent and still, as if he were deaf to the noble girl’s protests.
In an attempt to contain her daughter, An Wei propped herself in front of her daughter with a look of plea upon her face. "Dae Jung please. We are both victims of the same enemy. Even in exile, we must stay together. Are we not allies? Let us speak of these things in private before we make such bold decisions."
"Do you doubt the divine rule of the Young Emperor?" Dae Jung said.
He was obviously baiting the princess, and she took it without hesitation as she viciously shouldered past her mother. "No, I am doubting you! The minute my kingdom fell, you stopped caring about us. Our countries were once allies, and now we're just useless baggage to you. I don't know how you've manipulated the Emperor but he would never abandon us." She turned her eyes to the uncertain young man standing beside the advisor. "Why don't you say something? How can you let him talk like this? Answer me."
He remained somber, and after a moment, he even looked at her, as if his acknowledgement of her would have provided some amount of reassurance. But this only served to drive her anger further.
Dae Jung however, carried on with his announcements. "As I was saying. Furthermore, we have radioed the western capital. A political envoy has been dispatched and will meet with the members of the Eastern Kingdom in a week's time. It would be in your best interest to remain in this town until they arrive. Unfortunately, because of the growing distrust the western nations have with Rui Nan citizens, we cannot receive the same reception. Instead, we will be moving on to a country of neutral affiliation and seek proper sanctuary there."
We flew a small fleet of sky boats towards the markets at the center of town. Of the boats that carried guards, clerks and a small assortment of servants, mine was mostly empty as it had been tasked to carry the food, supplies and any other purchases. Aside from Kassashimei and Ren Tzu, Ai had chosen to ride with us. She casually offered to fly the boat for me, but I declined as I felt that just having her company would be honor enough. I suppose, considering how closer we were now, it wouldn’t have been any surprise at all that she had selected my boat out of all the others. Still, there must have been a reason, and it was revealed to me only after we had departed the ship.
"He's lying," Ai said quietly.
Her words had snapped a portion of my focus from the sky, and ever so slightly, I turned my ear towards her.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Dae Jung. He was lying. Ren Tzu, I know you to be a good judge of character. Surely you would have noticed a strangeness in his words."
"I cannot judge whether or not the man's words were true or false," Ren Tzu said ", but I do know that he was too bold in his statement. He was confident in some of the things he was saying and in others he was not."
"I never trusted that man anyways," Kassashimei added.
"Kass, you don't trust anyone." She must have felt that I was mocking her, because I heard her snorting loudly.
"Not true," she said. "There are some people I trust. Those people I don't mention. It's just a lot more fun to talk about people you don't."
"Well I know for certain he was lying," Ai continued ", I overheard him speaking with the officers during one of their meetings."
She did not have to explain things any further for me to understand. "There is no political envoy is there?"
"No."
"So we're abandoning them? The people from the Eastern Kingdom?"
"Yes."
"Does the Young Emperor know of this?"
"Perhaps. I know he mourns over the loss of Master Ichiro and those that were injured terribly during the battle. He may very well be seeking safety for the princess by letting her go. Whether or not he had a part in it, it must be, that in his grief, he allowed Dae Jung to make the decision."
"Then Dae Jung really does want to get rid of her." I began turning the boat around. "I want to speak to the Young Emperor."
Ai stood up, and with her own abilities, forced the boat back to its original course. She intervened so quickly, that the boat began to shake violently. I lost my balance and fell backwards. Kassashimei yelped as I fell onto her lap. She made a fist and struck me on the head before shoving me aside.
"Patience Terr," Ai said. "Do not be so quick to draw attention to yourself. We will finish the task assigned to us first, and then afterwards we will speak to the Young Emperor."
We landed amidst a field of other small aircraft, a few that looked similar to ours, but were powered with tiny steam engines and had iron tanks filled with the iconic levitating stones known as rose phasia. Most of the others who could not afford the expensive, but convenient mineral were tethered with large bags of hot air that bobbed lazily in the breeze. Ours in comparison, must
have looked bare, elegant in its simplicity compared to the other small boats over burdened with puffing, howling engines and bags of air and smoke that reeked of charred and ashen coals.
Onlookers watched our arrival with a mixture of curiosity and astonishment. Ai donned a beautifully decorated light, blue satin hat adorned with tassels hanging from its brim. With it, she covered her eyes and most of her face, as was tradition amongst any of us that appeared in public. Kassashimei and I put on ours as well.
Ours were made of finely woven straw bleached until they were ghostly white and radiating from the center like flower petals were thick, red silk threads that curved around and along the rim.
Ai, the clerks and servants as well as most of the guards marched down to the market to barter and purchase goods, leaving the children behind with the boats. Three of the guards remained, along with Ren Tzu, who took charge watching over us.
Much of the afternoon passed with most of us in boredom. Dressed in our best robes and hiding our faces underneath the shadows of our wide-brimmed, gleaming hats we had become decorative symbols, representing the grandeur of the Imperial Family and thus, were forbidden from doing anything other than standing silently beside our boats. The family’s regal presence had to be maintained whenever we left the ship, even if we were doing nothing else, but simply standing idly about.
But as I watched through the transparent screen woven into the top of my hat, I noticed that not everyone held such traditions in high respect.
Among the people we had ferried from the ship, was a single, particular monk whom I saw in the distance meandering about like a stray dog, looking for its owner. He approached a number of foreigners asking them for something. I suppose he was asking for directions, because one man responded by pointing his finger towards a certain place in town. How strange it was to see a monk wandering alone, separated from the party that had already left for the market hours ago. He nodded to the stranger, then with haste in his step shuffled back to us.
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