The Rise of Faim

Village

IV. Village

The tawny skinned teenager winced from the pain and Faim groaned as they stood up. They didn't expect to see the austere dojo master grin from ear to ear.

"What's so funny?!" The tan fighter glared at him.

"It's been ages since I had to fight someone so stubborn." Koh sniggered. "It takes me back to when I was your age."

Koh recalled to his younger days when he and his rival competed against each other to get chosen in order to train under Ki Wen's wing, a wise dojo master who was well known to strike down his opponents in quick jabs in seconds. Ki Wen was a serene master that wore a blue tunic and carved beads.

Koh was a thin teenager that had a braid queue with split ends, worn out tunic and patched trousers and walked barefoot since he came from a poor background.

Like most of his peers, they came from impoverished villages and walked around barefoot with mended clothes. Koh's rival, Sho, was one of the few that wore sandals.

His fine attire and neatly combed hair do made him distinct along with his devious smirk. They had defeated their contenders before they faced each other. Ki Wen gave a serene smile before the gong was heard.

After fighting arduously for over 12 minutes straight, neither of them refused to fall over the edge. Sho and Koh were evenly matched. Ki volunteered to become the tie breaker, as he stood and grabbed an empty glass bottle of tonic and made a proposal. “Whoever can take away this bottle from my hand shall be my disciple.” Ki Wen declared as he showed the empty glass bottle. Koh and Sho charged in to snatch the glass bottle but they were whacked out of bounds in seconds.

"Back then, I fought to snatch the bottle, but the only I could grasp was this." Koh showed the beads to the two finalists. "Every time I tried to steal the bottle, the only thing I could take from him were one of his beads."

In his younger days, Koh and Sho fought Ki Wen to obtain the position as his pupil, only for them to fight against each other. As they had tried to take the bottle, or at least the cork. But instead of snatching the cork, they each taken a bead. Upon closer inapection, the wooden beads had a carving of Ki Wen's initials in Chinese calligraphy.

Ki Wen smirked at their reaction.

“Better luck next time.” Ki Wen said before he uncorked the tonic with his fingers.

Koh put the beads back in his pocket. “I don't show weakness to my adversaries, nevertheless, I can't deny that it brought me nostalgia.” Koh admitted, then took another swig from the gin. “Better luck next time.”

The dark skinned youth glared at the glass bottle, remembering the abusive drunkard that resided in his village. The drunkard intimidated the orphans that were under his care, on one occassion he nearly killed one of them in a fit of rage. If the orphans failed to steal the amount of money he needed to get a good bottle of gin, they would get a beating. The oldest orphan helped Sokuh escape from the shabby orphanage as he took the opportunity to steal the money from the dazed drunkard and gave it to Sokuh.

“Take this,” he whispered as he curled Sokuh's fingers into a fist to keep a firm grip on the dollar bills, “don't make it go to waste.” The older orphan said hastely as he helped him sneak out. “Good luck on your trip.”

“I'll come back stronger than ever.” Sokuh said.

“You better be, now go.” The older orphan responded in a hushed tone before he pushed him out the window.

He ran away not only to save himself, but to be able protect the ones he cared about. He didn't come all this way to return defeated after the sacrifice his brethren made to get there. This was his time to take a stand.

“I didn't come all this way to leave empty handed, old man!” He shouted as he stepped forward, determined to fight.

Faim didn't expect the sudden boldness come from him, it was only a while ago that he was defending his competition from Koh.

“Return home to your village, we're done here.” Koh decided as he turned away from his guests.

“But I'm not! I'm not going anywhere!”

Koh paused, then turned to face him, glaring at him. “Just who do you think you are?” The austere dojo master questioned him.

The tawny teen took a fighting stance. “I, Sokuh, will be your disciple.” Sokuh declared.

Koh narrowed his eyes at Sokuh and said; “I'll be the judge of that.”