The Princess’s Wish and Akio’s Challenge ~The First Steps into Papermaking~
In Akio’s town, alongside livestock care and preparations for the purification system, Celestina’s lessons for the children were steadily gaining momentum. She would use a room in the central hall, or on fair-weather days, hold “open-air classes” beneath the great Life Tree, patiently teaching them letters, arithmetic, and tales from her homeland. The children’s eagerness to learn burned bright, their eyes shining with intellectual curiosity.
Yet, Celestina had one great concern. There were no proper materials to use as teaching aids, nor any means to preserve the children’s progress in tangible form. For now, she made do by having them write with charcoal on wooden boards, or draw letters and pictures in shallow boxes filled with smoothed soil or sand—but those marks vanished quickly, impossible to keep as a record.
One evening at dusk, she gathered her resolve and came to Akio’s study.
“Akio-sama, may I trouble you with a matter for discussion?”
At her solemn tone, Akio gently encouraged her.
“What weighs on your mind, Celestina-sama?”
“It concerns the children’s education… They study diligently every day, their capacity to absorb knowledge is remarkable. But as things stand, we cannot preserve the letters they struggle to master, nor the drawings they so earnestly make. I wish to give them something lasting—a record of their efforts, proof of their growth. Something more practical, upon which letters or pictures could be written and kept… Might it be possible to create such a thing?”
Her words carried a sincere desire for the children’s future.
Hearing them, Akio’s mind stirred with memories from Earth. Paper—born from plant fibers, on which people wrote, drew, recorded knowledge, and nurtured entire cultures. That thin, light material which shaped civilizations.
(Paper… Yes, I’ve never seen it here. They may have parchment, but if we could create something easier to make in large amounts…)
Akio tried recalling fragments of papermaking—Japanese washi, or perhaps even the more primitive papyrus.
“Celestina-sama, it may be possible. In my homeland, we had something called paper. It was made from tree bark or plant fibers. If we could recreate it here, it might serve you well.”
Celestina’s eyes lit up in delight.
“Truly, Akio-sama!? If such a thing could be made…!”
“Yes. My knowledge is incomplete, and we’d have to find materials and tools from scratch, but… it’s worth the challenge.”
Thus, inspired by the princess’s earnest wish, Akio launched a new endeavor: the Papermaking Project.
The very next day, he consulted Sylvia about plants suitable as raw material. She suggested several candidates—the soft inner bark of certain trees, fibrous grasses similar to hemp, or even straw left over after harvest—explaining their properties in detail.
Then Akio went to Dolgan and Alto, requesting tools: a large wooden mallet and sturdy stone slab for pounding fibers, and wooden frames with fine bamboo strips or horsehair mesh to scoop and spread the pulp thinly, like a sieve.
“So this is for the paper, eh? Always coming up with curious ideas, you are, lad. Leave it to me—I’ll forge you tools that’ll last,” Dolgan said, eyes gleaming with interest at the new challenge.
Within days, the tools were ready, and with Sylvia’s gathered plant fibers, the first papermaking trials began behind the central hall. Ayane and other women joined, intrigued by the process.
First, the plant fibers were boiled with lye until softened. Then, laid on the stone slab, they were pounded relentlessly with the mallet, breaking down into fine strands. It was tedious, laborious work, but Akio explained, sweating alongside them,
“This part decides the paper’s quality.”
Once the fibers were thoroughly pulped, they were mixed into water, and Akio carefully dipped his makeshift sieve-frame, lifting it gently to spread the slurry evenly.
The first “sheet” that resulted, once dried, was thick, stiff, and blotchy brown—far from the smooth, white paper of Akio’s memory. But still—
“Akio-sama! Even so… it looks like something could be written on it!”
Celestina picked up the crude sheet and, taking a charcoal stick, gently drew a line across it. A dark mark remained.
“Ohh!”
“It worked! It really worked!”
Cries of surprise and joy burst forth from all present. The children’s eyes shone, eager to try the new creation for themselves.
Holding that first rough “work,” Akio let out a wry chuckle, yet felt a deep sense of accomplishment.
“It’s still rough, with plenty of room for improvement… but as a first step, I’d say this is a fine success. From here, Celestina-sama, we’ll make something better. I promise you.”
The princess’s heartfelt wish had ignited Akio’s spirit of challenge, sparking a new light in the cultural life of the growing town.
What do you think about this chapter?
