SKY OF PAPER: AN ASIAN STEAMPUNK FANTASY

CHAPTER 37

　

On a tiny island in Rui Nan, close to the western edge of the capital, lies a set of grave stones just beyond the shore. They sit staggered, dotted about in some places. Some lay upon the sand while others amidst the grass and palm trees. Still others were not grave stones at all, but rather tiny shrines, honoring entire families. My sister's stone was among them.

Those from my village that had survived the plague and the great war had chosen this island to lay to rest those we had lost. However, there were no bodies to bury. They were all ritually burned as was the case for all that had perished during those dark times.

It was only a few years after the war ended that I started to regularly visit my sister's gravestone. I lit some incense and listened to the ocean lap lazily against the rocks. As I stared at the engraving of her name, I wondered how she had passed away. Did she spend her last moments with Mr. Takaya at her side? Did she die peacefully? I could not bear to think of her dying alone, suffering in a corner of some apothecary hut. Had I been stronger, more determined, could I have saved her?

And then I thought to myself, if someone had lied to me, and said she was safe, that she was alive and I had nothing to worry about, would my years as child have been any different?

Sometimes, all it takes to move forward, is to believe that someone you love is still alive and well, even if there is no truth to it. Even so, those words I gave the Young Emperor probably could not have been a lie at all. For all I knew, his family was indeed safe. But truthfully, none of that was terribly important to me, not even to Dae Jung. Kassashimei had run off to fetch him and the guards, who quickly put out the fire and carried the shaken Emperor back to his room. Afterwards, I told Dae Jung everything that had happened. I apologized and pretended to beg for forgiveness.

He said quite calmly, that I had done nothing wrong. All that mattered was that my words had renewed the Young Emperor's hope. He told me that as long as he kept his courage, the devotion and loyalty of everyone onboard the ship would not have been offered in vain. I was then sworn to keep that shameful event a secret, for no one should ever know the Young Emperor at his weakest.

"Let him believe that his family is still alive," he said. "My hope for the Imperial Family's safety is just as strong as his, but such things matter much more to him. He will not forget what you've done here, nor the things you've said. I have no doubt he has an interest in you now. Do not take his feelings towards you lightly."

That night, I lay awake in my room, gazing up at the ceiling while everything that had happened that evening ran repeatedly in my mind like a strange, hazy dream. For a short while, I thought that all of it was just something I had imagined. But then I turned my head to see Kassashimei lying on her futon next to me, gazing back with a pleased look on her face, which reminded me that I was only fooling myself.

"Who are you?" I asked. "What do you want from me?"

"Who am I?" she whispered back. "Sometimes I also ask myself that question. But I know who I am today, and I know what I will be tomorrow. I am your shyo mah."

The next few days were spent, repairing the damage that the Young Emperor had caused. To protect him, Dae Jung told everyone that the fire was most likely caused by a small ember blown carelessly out of his pipe while he was smoking in the store room.

While the train ferried in more officials who were still loyal to the old government, and the crew prepared the ship for departure, Kassashimei and I, as well as the rest of the chienkuu ko trained continuously under Ai and the Boar. We were no longer students, but skilled practitioners of our sacred craft. As such, each of us were trained in accordance with our specialties. There were those who could read and predict the emotions of the weather. This was a task for the males, and were the only ones who were not paired with a shyo mah. Others were performers who could entertain by making carvings of wood and stone dance in mid air. They also possessed a talent which allowed them to cast a special veil, hiding things which were not meant to be seen. Etsu, Kassashimei and I, practiced the most traditional discipline of our craft: the art of flying airships and sky boats.