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"You like my daughter, I presume." Pause. Noone answered. "Am I wrong?" Silence; no response. "Either way, she is having a hard time now, can you watch over her for me, please?"
"She would not have a hard time if you did not accuse of betrayal, humiliate and send away her fiancé."
That voice was all wrong. It sounded distorted as if listening to oneself talk. That voice was too familiar, something long forgotten, yet absolutely sure...
Choi Young glanced over to where the Master was seating; directly across was the back of a young man, who sat cross-legged, facing the low table separating them. The person turned almost instantly, feeling the eyes on him, and Choi Young quickly averted his gaze. He had seen that back before: the shoulders slouched forward in deference to the elder, the head bowed and that high ponytail... That boy was him.
"Don't ever talk back to me again!" The master roared and a shudder ran down Choi Young's spine. If that boy was indeed him...
"Yes, master. But you can't order me to stop thinking or believing what I believe. Jae Su is not a traitor and your daughter will never be the same with him gone. They loved each other..."
Yes, that's what he would have said. If he were young and hot-headed and just watched his friend being kicked out and the girl he liked bereft.
Softer and kinder, the master spoke, "I know you like Mae Hee. All the guys do. I was not happy to allow for their engagement, but she begged me and he was somebody who I knew well enough to entrust my daughter in his care..."
"The truth is – I am leaving also. I can't stay and be next to her, because one-sided love is lonely. But I can't leave just yet. Jae Su asked me to watch over her. Just like you are doing now. So I will. I will watch over her, because she is your daughter, because she is his girl. And when she is OK, I will go. I will join Woodalchi. I think it will be a good place for somebody with my skill. No distractions. I will serve the country my way."
"Choi Young."
The warrior swallowed hard, feeling suddenly claustrophobic. Everything that had occurred in the past and in the future became his present, every stumbling step he took in the dark seemed to have been on purpose. He was not sent to the past by Jae Su's insistence or by Mr. Kim's logical reasoning. His mission was not to influence the events around him, but the events that directly related to him. The Japanese torture, the mission, Jae Su's mother – he could not change the course of history. But Mae Hee, the sweet girl who deserved to be happy...
"My daughter talked to me two weeks ago. It might come as a surprise to you, but she likes you, Choi Young. She told me that after she met you, she realized that what she had been feeling for Jae Su was not love... But I told her that you two could never be, because Jae Su is your best friend. Honestly, ... a part of me is glad Jae Su is gone; although he will hate me, he would never have his heart broken... He was like a son to me, I cared for him deeply."
Another empty pause. The boy probably lifted his head and looked at his master, seeking some kind of consolation, confused by his feelings, confused by what he had heard, struggling to understand.
Choi Young shut his eyes, breathing shallow and contained. He knew now nothing could be meaningfully different, as long as he stayed himself and that boy over there was him, that boy would continue on his path, just as he was supposed to.
. . .
Testing his legs, Choi Young stood, leaning on the wall. Strength was returning and he felt the urge to leave immediately toward the gate, toward the future. Instead, he stumbled out into the small dark foyer and out through the door, sunlight flooding his senses and making him dizzy.
"Sir, commander had ordered us to assist you."
"I require paper and writing implements." He rasped. Not able to fully open his eyes, still burning from brightness, the warrior turned to enter the calming shadowy space of his room.
Sitting down by the low table, Choi Young took a minute to gather his thoughts and started,
My name is Choi Young. I am the general of Woodalchi. And this is my story.
I hope it will find its way to the one person who helped me and to whom I owe a debt of gratitude. It is my request that these letters remain in my immediate family, passed along through generations.
. . .
Whenever Choi Young descended into confusing depths of sleep, he was visited by a recurring dream: a mixture of shadows and light, a soft form, a female voice, whispering something closely. It was very important to hear and he struggled, every time waking up in frustration. The voice was never audible and the more he tried to understand, the more distant and unreachable a beautiful whisperer became. He would reach to grab her hand, but it eluded him; he searched for her face, but it transcended into an ephemeral blur of flowing faintness.
He needed to know what she was saying. He had to know!
. . .
"I have a favor to ask, Master. I know that I already put you in precarious position by being here, but I have this request, nevertheless." He pointed to a small unadorned chest. "It holds letters I've written. Would you please give it to your student, the one I heard was going to become Woodalchi. Would you ask him to stamp them with Woodalchi seal and keep as his personal possessions as long as he is alive? It is extremely important that he does not read them or lose them."
He could feel a heavy gaze press into him, and sighing looked at his teacher.
"It is a peculiar request, considering that you don't even know the boy and where is a guarantee that he will become Woodalchi? Or that he could keep your letters safely?"
Choi Young adamantly shook his head before replying, "He would have no problem entering the ranks. He sounded like he set his mind and he appears the kind who would not waver after he had made a decision. Just ask him, as if for your sake. Make him believe these papers belong to you. He will do anything for you, master."
"He would?" The master's black eyes now drilled inside Choi Young and he was sickening with inky fear in his veins that pushed any further, he might succumb to a momentary weakness to be known and tell this man everything... "He would," confirmed the master, finally letting his eyes drop to the chest still on the table. "I shall ask him, then. You don't wish to share your reasons and I will respect that."
"Thank you."
. . .
That amorphous dream invaded his body again. Choi Young readily tensed in expectation, he already knew how it would play out. These dreams were a mind tease, nothing more, nothing less. The woman's figure sometimes was clearer and there were times when he even heard her say "Young-ah", calling him with familiarity only a few people ever had been allowed. He was beginning to believe it was some kind of apparition of Eun Soo, visiting him because he conjured her from the energy infused with her essence. In fact, he believed that he could probably make her say anything he wanted to hear or hold her in his embrace, but to his chagrin, even in his own dreams, she was merely a spirit, refusing to grant any semblance of physical connection he longed for. Without her beside him he would be infinitely incomplete, and this knowledge was both comforting and scary.
Tonight he stared into the darkness toward one point of light in the whole room. It was there, on the low table where the candle was dripping wax every night, turning smaller with each passing hour. The chest filled with letters was absent and Choi Young experienced unpredictable emptiness, missing those parts of him he had poured diligently onto the parchment, unsure how much of what he had shared would actually come true or vanish from the paper, as if his brush never imprinted the ink in careful calligraphy.
. . .
The young man stared at the chest in front of him, feeling a deep sense of unease.
Ever since he was in the room with that injured person, he started having problems with KI. It was acting up as if triggered. Intuitively, he knew that the source was the man, who was like a dark permanent shadow, always turned to the wall, never meeting his eyes. Master said that man was resting and immobilized because he had depleted his energy somehow and only time would heal him. In his practice in managing inner energy, Young learned that other people also had the ability to use their KI, although many never even realized that it was possible, not to the extent he was able to. That person, probably, tried and without knowing how, got hurt.
Only, something did not add up. The chest affected him the same way that man did. Choi Young reflected on the unpleasant sensation of his KI jerking inside, perplexed at the energy field coming from outside which obviously interfered with his own frequency.
He hesitated before flicking the lid of the chest with a creak. Carefully folded letters showed the traces of the ink seeping through the outer side of the parchment. He was curious, and what kid at his age would not be a curious kind? The master warned him not to read the letters, but if he was entrusted with their care, he should at least find out what the first one said. He took the top roll and slowly unfurled it.
Choi Young, you may be curious about the contents of these letters...
The boy finished reading, unable to tear away from the simple and powerful words, and slowly returned the scroll back to the top of the neatly organized pile.
. . .
The warrior straightened his clothes and took a final look around the room that nursed his weary body.
His journey was only beginning, all doubts erased with Eun Soo's voice sounding clear in his head. The dreamy haze dissipated and she emerged, clearly distinguishable beautiful face with eyes that glistened with faith, her soft hands brushing his cheek, the longing nagging at his heart gone at her touch. She appeared to him again, calling his name, but this time, she leaned closely and whispered into his ear, "Stranger, thank you for bringing me here."
Eun Soo explained everything, she made sense out of confusion, taking away any hesitation he might have had lurking in the back of his mind. It was the right decision to have brought her through the gate - the magic of the gate, creating a possibility of life within her womb.
Morning broke through the small window with promising sunshine dancing on the floor and the walls. It was time to go, to bid farewell to this place, to his mentor and to the secret of his identity and origins. He welcomed the sunlight, no longer flinching at the brightness, growing accustomed to the world ahead he had to face alone in order to return to his beloved's side.
"You are leaving." The master asked in affirmation, his broad shoulders filling the space between the doorposts, and suddenly the warrior hated being hidden.
"I have one more letter for the boy. Tell him it should be the last in order."
"Of course, you still don't want him to know about you?"
They stared at each other in silence; disbelief and hope and trust, all of which unspoken.
"Master?" Choi Young's eyes slowly brimmed with tears. "My name is..."
"You don't have to tell me your name." The man smiled reassuringly. He pulled the warrior in a steel hug, the type of hug men give each other before they enter a final battle. The hug that spoke louder than any words. The hug he never had gotten from his teacher.
Once the master let go, Choi Young understood everything.
"Safe travels. And your wife is beautiful. You grew up well."
Choi Young stared at him with those deep eyes, now peaceful, albeit sad.
"Go," the teacher lightly squeezed his shoulder. "It's time to say goodbye."
"Goodbye, master, thank you for everything." He quickly moved, his stride gliding steadily across the old dusty road.
"I'm proud of you!" The master called after him; already out of the hearing range, Choi Young felt a nudge of sound, carried with the wind.
The warrior slowed his fast steps and turned. A smile flowered on his lips and he quickly nodded before continuing on his journey.