SKY OF PAPER: AN ASIAN STEAMPUNK FANTASY

CHAPTER 66

Though many foreigners and various history books regarded him as Emperor Fung, many of us who lived during that time knew that he, his cabinet and most of the people of Rui Nan called him either general, or in some cases, prime minister. Even though some of us felt that his ambitions were unjust, especially during the last part of the war, he was not as pompous and disrespectful as much of the world claimed. One of his ministers confessed to western officials after the war that he detested General Fung's title of emperor as he felt that he was undeserving of it. Those rooted in tradition believed that it was a title one was born into, not bestowed. General Fung was only a soldier, someone who lead his country in the only way he know how; through the use of the military.

And that was how he presented himself when he stepped onto the stage of the palace's grand ballroom. Every chienkuu ko that Minister Lu could muster and the remaining officers of the Imperial Air Navy watched as the proud man, his uniform and medals gleaming, stood before the podium and gazed upon each and every one of our faces. At Minister Lu's command, we all bowed in unison.

As I lifted my head, I saw the face of a man who seemed unchanged by all that had happened to our country since the start of the war. He was unflinching, regal, uncompromising, like the tallest tree rooted on the mountain's highest peak; and yet, I was one of the few who had seen him humbled. That day, when he was reunited with the Young Emperor, I'd witnessed his hard, stony expression give way to one of relief, maybe even compassion for the child that had been taken away from him. How sad it was that he could never afford to show such a face again. As the country died, the people, its military looked to him more than ever. He not only carried the terrible honor of being a leader of a country, but also the burden of its coming demise.

Like brown autumn leaves stumbling upon the cold breeze, he, and what remained of his fleet, returned a disheveled wreck. Though there were ships to be repaired and wounded to be treated, General Fung stoically carried on without regard to his losses. He continued the lie that everyone so fervently believed, that everyone needed to believe. The false reports of our victory were shouted on the streets and printed in newspapers. Even the general took part in the parades and celebrations. Yet here we were, the bearers of the truth, his soldiers and the few defenders of this nation, facing a man who must have come to realize that he would never again know victory.

"We are alone," he announced. "Trapped in our sacred island while the world sends a storm to our shores. The people look brightly to the future, not knowing that at any moment their lives and all that we have come to know could suddenly end. But I say it is better to let them be happy. Let them carry on peacefully, for our duty is to help preserve their hopes, however vain or ignorant it is, as well as their lives.

A long time ago, I told you all of a dream, of uniting all the eastern countries under our rule. I know now that there is no such thing as one land, one ruler under heaven, that there will always be borders that separate us. But there is one thing that every nation must hold true, and that is the right to exist.

The world, emboldened by their vengeance seeks to take that right from us. They wish us gone from the face of this world and as a grim testament to their resolve they are bringing with them the full might of their forces from across the sea. The rumors you all have heard are true. Amongst their vast air fleets, there is a ship carrying a bomb which they believe can bring to ruin an entire city. This bomb comes for our capital. It comes for our families, it comes to pierce the very heart of our nation.

Little do they know that we have a weapon of our own, one that no cowardly weapon can match; and that is the spirit you will take with you into battle as you fight like tigers clawing at their pathetic fleets and tearing them apart like rice paper. You are the true weapons of Rui Nan, the last great warriors of our generation.