Training Begins

Yong Tae hit the hardwood floor of the Do Jang hard, and the wind was forced from his lungs in a rush. For a moment, he couldn't see through the cloud of popping stars that filled his vision.

Ji Ho stood over him, looking down. Sweat ran down his face and, his damp uniform clung to his thin arms, wet from hours of training.

"Get up, dumpling. I need to try that throw again. It still doesn't feel right."
Yong Tae tried to lift himself from the floor. He felt as though he had pulled himself off the smooth wood a hundred times already. His arms faltered, and he fell again. Tears burnt behind his eyes. He fought them back.

Ji Ho prodded Yong Tae's ribs with his toe. "It's not nap time, dumpling. I said 'Get up'".

Anger rose inside Yong Tae, and with it, he found the strength to pull himself off of the floor. He shook his head to clear the last of the stars from his vision, and he saw Ji Ho standing in a ready position, prepared to throw him to the floor once again. Yong Tae tightened his fist until he felt his nails bite into his palms. A surge of energy lifted up from his lower stomach and rose as a pulse rose to his chest. It filled Yong Tae with a power he hadn't felt before, cleared his mind, and relaxed his body. Yong Tae’s eyes widened in surprise.

"That's the spirit, dumpling." Ji Ho beckoned Yong Tae towards him, "Come get some."

The power inside Yong Tae's chest began to rush down his arm toward his clenched fist. He had never experienced this kind of power before, but it felt as natural as his breath. Yong Tae was certain, it would not be him on the hardwood this time.

"Wait," Yoo Sang stepped between the boys and patted Yong Tae's shoulder, instantly sapping the energy from his grandson. "Ji Ho, shift your weight more to your instep when you prepare. Your balance will improve and your stepping will be more stable as you catch Yong Tae's arm." He shifted the older boys foot with his own and looked at Yong Tae. "Ok, Yong Tae. Attack."

Yong Tae could only stare in disbelief. Drained of his power, he felt empty, hollow, like a fallen tree in the forest, rotten from the inside. He knew his grandfather had taken the power from him, but how? Why? How had he known that Yong Tae had felt the rush of energy? He looked at Ji Ho. His partner stood ready, an eager look in his eyes. Yong Tae was certain, he would on the hardwood again.

"Yong Tae," Yoo Sang repeated when he saw his grandson hesitate. "Don't be afraid."

Yong Tae took a deep breath and tried to recapture the feeling of power. But it was gone. Determined to show his grandfather he was not scared, he shouted and launched his best punch at Ji Ho. Ji Ho easily sidestepped the attack, caught Yong Tae's arm from the inside with one hand and swung his arm under Yong Tae's punch. He slid his hips into position, and Yong Tae felt the pull on his arm propel him helplessly over Ji Ho's shoulder. Despite his thin build, Ji Ho had more than enough power to toss Yong Tae like a paper dahk jee to the floor. The older boy did nothing to ease Yong Tae's fall, and he hit the floor with full force. The impact again left him dazed and breathless.

"Ok, Ji Ho." Yong Tae heard Yoo Sang's voice through the dull ringing that settled into his ears. "You have made good progress with this skill today. Still, you will need more practice to beat the others at the tournament."

"Yes, Sah Boo Nim. I am ready. I will practice as much as it takes. I want to win the tournament and bring glory to my family's name. I will skip meals, not sleep, anything necessary to make more time for practice under your teaching. Assuming my partner is up to it."

Yong Tae's heart sank, even as he lifted himself from the floor. He hoped there would be no more practice today. The last throw had hurt his hip, and he had to lean his weight to his right side to avoid collapsing to the floor.

"No, Ji Ho. You must keep up your strength. You are tall and move smoothly, but the others at the tournament will be heavier and stronger than you." Yoo Sang looked both boys over. "We are finished for today."

Yoo Sang ordered the boys to bow, showing respect to each other to finish their training. Despite his aching body, Yong Tae lowered himself into a deep bow. Ji Ho merely nodded at his partner, refusing to lower himself before Yong Tae. The two boys then both bowed deeply to Yoo Sang, and Ji Ho left the Do Jang, followed by one of his retainers.

Yong Tae heard them laugh as they left, and the retainer turned to look at Yong Tae. His face opened into a broad smile, and he turned back to Ji Ho, laughing even harder.

"Yong Tae," Yoo Sang called to his grandson. "You wear your anger to clearly. Do not let their opinion of you cause you such hurt. Return home to your mother. Take her this letter." He laid his hand on Yong Tae's shoulder, and Yong Tae looked up into his grandfather's eyes. He saw none of the sympathy he had hoped to find there. Instead, Yoo Sang's eyes were cold and steady. "You will need much rest tonight. Do not play with your friends. Go now."

The mention of Che Ju and Ah Won brought fresh tears to the back of Yong Tae's eyes. He wanted desperately to play with his friends and forget about Ji Ho and his training. Again, Yong Tae fought back his tears. As much as he would have hated for Ji Ho to see him cry, he wanted even less for his grandfather to see him weak.
"Yes, Sah Boo Nim." He managed, backing away and bowing as he took the letter from Yoo Sang.

As he left the Do Jang he peeked into the folded parchment of the letter. He saw it was written in the characters of the ancient kingdom. No one in the village except Yoo Sang and Shi Woo could read all of it, but Yong Tae recognized the character for Dragon. Everyone knew that character. It was painted in the Do Jang above the door, but what it had to do with Yong Tae, he couldn’t tell. The rest of the characters his grandfather had written looked like a birds nest of tangled strokes and dots.
When he arrived home, Shi Woo saw his limp, and her eyes wet with tears. “What happened to you?”
Yong Tae didn’t answer, instead, he gave her the letter. “Grandfather sent this letter for you, mom. What does it mean?”