The Talking Horse

In the royal stables of the Joseon Dynasty, where magnificent horses were kept for the king’s cavalry, there worked a young stable boy named Kim Woo-jin. Though he was only fourteen years old, Woo-jin had already gained a reputation for his extraordinary way with horses. The most spirited stallions would calm at his touch, and the most stubborn mares would follow his gentle guidance.

Woo-jin lived alone in a small room above the stables, having lost his parents to illness when he was very young. The horses were his only companions, and he treated each one with the care and affection that others might reserve for family members. He knew every horse by name, understood their individual temperaments, and could tell when one was feeling unwell just by observing their manner.

Among all the horses in the royal stable, Woo-jin felt a special connection to a magnificent black stallion named Heuk-ma, whose name meant “Black Horse.” Heuk-ma was the finest horse in the stable—strong, intelligent, and graceful—but he had a reputation for being difficult. Previous stable hands had found him stubborn and unpredictable, but with Woo-jin, Heuk-ma was always gentle and cooperative.

“You understand me, don’t you, friend?” Woo-jin would whisper to Heuk-ma as he brushed the horse’s glossy coat each evening. “Sometimes I think you’re the only one who really knows me.”

One particularly lonely evening, as autumn rain drummed against the stable roof and Woo-jin was feeling especially isolated from the world of people, he found himself pouring out his heart to Heuk-ma.

“I wish I had someone to talk to,” he said, leaning against the horse’s strong neck. “Someone who could understand what it’s like to be different, to feel like you don’t quite fit in anywhere.”

To his complete amazement, Heuk-ma turned his elegant head and replied, “But you do have someone to talk to, Woo-jin. You have me.”

Woo-jin stumbled backward, his eyes wide with shock. “Did… did you just speak?”

Heuk-ma’s intelligent eyes twinkled with what could only be described as amusement. “I have been speaking to you for months, young friend. You just weren’t ready to hear me until now.”

“But how is this possible?” Woo-jin whispered, looking around the stable to make sure no one else was present.

“I am no ordinary horse,” Heuk-ma explained, his voice deep and melodious. “I am Cheonma, a heavenly horse sent from the celestial realm to serve the earthly kingdom. I can speak to those whose hearts are pure and who treat all creatures with genuine kindness.”

Woo-jin sank down onto a bale of hay, his mind reeling. “Why… why are you telling me this now?”

“Because you are lonely, and because loneliness shared becomes friendship,” Heuk-ma replied gently. “Also because you are ready to understand that the bonds between beings who care for each other transcend the boundaries of species.”

From that evening forward, Woo-jin and Heuk-ma became true companions. During the day, when others were around, Heuk-ma remained silent, appearing to be nothing more than an exceptionally well-trained horse. But in the quiet hours of evening and early morning, they would have long conversations about everything from the nature of happiness to the meaning of loyalty.

Heuk-ma possessed wisdom accumulated over centuries of existence. He told Woo-jin stories of ancient kingdoms, shared insights about human nature, and offered guidance when the young man faced difficult decisions. In return, Woo-jin shared his dreams, his fears, and his observations about the human world that Heuk-ma found endlessly fascinating.

“Tell me, Woo-jin,” Heuk-ma asked one evening, “what do humans value most?”

Woo-jin considered the question carefully. “I think… I think most people value being understood and accepted for who they truly are.”

“And yet,” Heuk-ma observed, “so many humans spend their lives pretending to be something other than their true selves. Why do you suppose that is?”

“Fear, perhaps,” Woo-jin replied thoughtfully. “Fear that if others knew who they really were, they would be rejected or alone.”

Heuk-ma nodded slowly. “You have learned something that many never discover—that true friendship begins with honest communication and accepting others as they are.”

One day, troubling news reached the royal stables. A neighboring kingdom was threatening war, and the king was preparing to lead his army into battle. The royal cavalry would need their finest horses, and Heuk-ma was chosen to carry the king himself into combat.

Woo-jin was devastated. Not only would he lose his dearest friend, but he knew that war horses faced terrible dangers in battle.

“I cannot bear the thought of you in danger,” Woo-jin told Heuk-ma the night before the army was to depart. “You mean everything to me.”

Heuk-ma was touched by his friend’s concern, but his voice was calm and resolute. “Woo-jin, friendship does not mean protecting each other from duty or purpose. I am a horse bred for strength and courage, and my destiny is to serve in whatever way brings honor to both horse and rider. Your destiny is to care for the creatures entrusted to you with wisdom and love.”

“But what if something happens to you?” Woo-jin asked, tears streaming down his face.

“Then you will remember everything we have shared, and you will know that our friendship transcends physical presence,” Heuk-ma replied gently. “True friendship lives in the heart and in the lessons we learn from each other.”

The next morning, as the king mounted Heuk-ma for the journey to war, the magnificent horse caught Woo-jin’s eye and nodded almost imperceptibly—a private farewell that no one else noticed.

For weeks, Woo-jin waited anxiously for news from the battlefield. He threw himself into caring for the remaining horses with even greater dedication, as if channeling his worry into purposeful action.

Finally, a messenger arrived with news that the king’s forces had achieved a decisive victory, with minimal losses. The king’s horse had performed magnificently, displaying such intelligence and courage that many soldiers spoke of it as if the animal possessed supernatural abilities.

When the army returned, Woo-jin rushed to welcome Heuk-ma home. The horse appeared uninjured but bore the dignified bearing of one who had seen battle and performed with honor.

That evening, in the privacy of the stable, Heuk-ma shared the story of the campaign. “The king proved to be a worthy rider,” he said. “Brave but not reckless, strong but also wise. We worked together as true partners.”

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” Woo-jin said, embracing his friend’s neck.

“I learned something important during our time away,” Heuk-ma continued. “I learned that the friendship you and I share—built on understanding, honesty, and mutual respect—is the model for all good relationships, whether between humans or between human and animal.”

Years passed, and Woo-jin grew from a boy into a man, eventually becoming the master of the royal stables. Throughout his life, he maintained his special relationship with Heuk-ma, and his reputation for understanding horses became legendary throughout the kingdom.

When young stable hands would ask Woo-jin for his secret with difficult horses, he would always give the same advice: “Listen with your heart as well as your ears. Treat every creature with respect and kindness. Remember that communication goes far deeper than words—it requires patience, empathy, and the willingness to see the world through another’s eyes.”

And sometimes, when the moon was bright and the stables were quiet, visitors might catch a glimpse of the master stable hand having what appeared to be a conversation with a magnificent black horse—though surely, they would tell themselves later, it must have been their imagination.

Heuk-ma lived an extraordinarily long life for a horse, blessing Woo-jin with decades of friendship and wisdom. When his time finally came to return to the celestial realm, he shared one final lesson with his human friend.

“The greatest gift we can give each other,” the celestial horse said, “is the courage to be our authentic selves and the wisdom to accept others for who they truly are. You have shown me the best of humanity, dear friend, and I hope I have shown you the best that friendship can be.”

And in the royal stables of Korea, the tradition continues to this day of treating horses not merely as animals, but as partners deserving of respect, understanding, and genuine care—a tradition that began with a lonely boy who learned that true friendship knows no boundaries.