The frozen lake cracked beneath his feet.


Radan felt the shiver of impending danger as he noticed a faint but unmistakable sound from the pond beside him. The winter sun was sinking fast behind him, casting a long shadow across the lake’s snowy surface, painting a ghostly blue-gray twilight. He’d been on his evening run around the frozen expanse of “Vajgar” pond which was also called “The lake” by romantic people of the town. Radan was savoring the crisp silence of a bitterly cold evening in Jindřichův Hradec, when he saw a young man in a fine woolen coat and red scarf further out on the ice. Before the scary sound caused by his last mad move, the boy was laughing, sliding and twirling with an innocent joy that belied the fragility beneath him.


At his eighteen, Radan already bore a quiet authority.

Years of intense training in yoga and karate had gifted him a mastery over his own body and breath that few his age could match. He moved with the grace of a sparrowhawk, which has masterful maneuverability. Exactly like the bird of prey, Radan was alert. The ice underfoot was thin in the center, he knew — locals avoided it before and after deep winter, when the freeze was weaker. But this boy, oblivious to the danger, seemed to believe he was invincible. Radan’s instincts tightened with unease.


So as if in answer to his silent warning, the sudden crack reverberated through the air.

The boy’s laughter faltered, turning to a startled cry as he plunged through the ice, arms flailing as he disappeared into the dark water below. Panic shot through Radan’s veins, but he knew that to give in to fear would mean failure — for both of them.


He sprang into action, his breath steady and measured despite the rush of adrenaline surging through him. He sprinted towards the break, stopping several feet from the opening, assessing the safest approach. He needed to avoid breaking the ice further; a wrong move could widen the hole, trapping them both. With the practiced calm of a trained yogi, Radan lowered himself, spreading his weight across the ice as he slid forward on his stomach. The water around the boy’s submerged figure was a frothing chaos as he struggled to stay afloat, his terrified eyes barely visible just under the surface.


Channeling all his focus, Radan controlled his breathing, regulating his heartbeat. His sensei’s words rang in his mind: ”Master your breath, master your fear.” In yoga, he’d trained his breath to flow as slowly as a river; now, this skill became a lifeline, a steadying force in the icy chaos. Inch by inch, he edged closer to the broken edge, the ice creaking ominously beneath him.


Closer now, he saw the boy’s wild eyes staring up, pleading, his hands flailing just beyond reach. Radan knew that panic could make a drowning person more dangerous, even to their rescuer. Calm, steady, firm. He reached out, but he would need to break a section of the ice nearer the boy to safely extract him. Drawing on his karate training, he focused all his energy into a single motion, slashing his palm’s edge into the ice. The ice cracked under the blow, a sharp, clean break forming an opening wide enough for him to slide his hand into the freezing water.


The shock of the cold water was big, but Radan forced his body to adapt. He stretched his arm further, feeling his muscles scream in protest as the temperature numbed his skin. The boy, wild-eyed and thrashing, was making it impossible to get a grip. Radan could feel the fear radiating from him like a storm, a terror that only a controlled mind could pierce. He tightened his grip, using a move designed to subdue an opponent in karate, securing his arm around the boy’s chest in an unbreakable hold. He would pull him free — “I must!” he thought.


Every muscle in Radan’s body strained as he fought against the boy’s panicked resistance. He dug deep, anchoring his core as he had practiced a thousand times, drawing on the wellspring of power and focus within him. Inch by inch, he dragged the boy up, muscles burning as he fought gravity and the water’s relentless grip. His mind remained laser-focused, his breath in perfect harmony with his movements. Finally, with a tremendous heave, he brought the boy’s body above water.


Relief flooded him, but he knew they weren’t safe yet. Gritting his teeth, Radan pulled them both back towards the shore. His breaths were shallow now, his muscles trembling with exhaustion. But he did not let himself falter. With each step, the shore grew nearer, and the crowd of onlookers, now gathered on the banks, became clearer. Among them, two figures in elegant coats — likely the boy’s parents — stared in horror, their hands clasped tightly together, fear etched in their faces.


At last, they reached the shore. Radan gently set the boy down as people surrounded them, some offering to call an ambulance, others wrapping the boy in thick coats. He was shivering violently but alive, his breath coming in desperate gasps. His parents fell to their knees beside him, their faces wet with tears, murmuring thanks that dissolved into sobs as they hugged their son. Exhausted but composed, Radan watched them, his own breath steadying, feeling only a quiet satisfaction that the boy will live.


+++++


Later that evening, Radan found himself in an unfamiliar setting.

The boy’s parents had invited him to their home, an elegant mansion on the outskirts of Jindřichův Hradec. Radan hadn’t expected anything in return for his actions, but they insisted on honoring him in a way that would forever shape his path.


Seated in a quiet, wood-paneled office with the boy’s father, Mr. Zedníček, Radan found himself wrapped in a sense of warmth and gratitude he hadn’t anticipated. Mr. Zedníček was an imposing man, yet his eyes held a humility Radan hadn’t expected. He spoke in a voice thick with emotion as he explained their family’s debt, emphasizing how his son’s life was more precious to him than all their wealth.


“We heard from people in town about your school, Perfect DMDU,” Mr. Zedníček said, his gaze steady. “It’s a noble vision, Radan. You’ve proven that you’re not only capable, but disciplined and brave. I want to help you, to make sure this dream of yours has an even better chance to flourish.”


Radan was taken aback. In his heart, he had always envisioned developing Perfect DMDU into a place where others could learn not only martial arts but life skills, self-discipline, and resilience. But he’d known it would take years of hard work to gather the resources he needed.


“We have a couple of opportunities for you,” Mr. Zedníček continued, “The closest to your education is our firm Telenet. It’s in telecommunications and computer areas, industries growing faster than any other these days. I know you’re young, but I believe in the vision you hold. I want you to take Telenet under your sparrowhawk wings, let it become part of your future holding. It will give you the means to help others, to create the impact you’re meant to make.”


Radan listened in stunned silence, his mind racing. He hadn’t anticipated such a powerful gesture, such a genuine act of support. But Mr. Zedníček’s words resonated deeply within him. His school could grow faster, reach farther, with this foundation. He could see how Telenet’s resources, the technology, and support it offered, would integrate seamlessly into his vision of Perfect DMDU.


He accepted, with gratitude in his heart and a sense of purpose that burned even brighter. In that office, with Mr. Zedníček’s steady words anchoring him, Radan’s journey took a new turn. Telenet became the first firm affiliated with Perfect DMDU. It wasn’t just a business; it was a means to an end — a way to ensure that others, too, would have the tools and guidance they needed to cultivate strength, discipline, and resilience.


From that day forward, Radan walked the path not only as a protector and a teacher but as a young visionary with a responsibility greater than his years. His act of bravery on “Vajgar lake” became the foundation for a legacy, a journey that began with a frozen pond and grew to encompass far more than he had imagined.