Author's Note: Ok, here's Chapter II. Two things, first; One: This chapter does take one or two liberties. I know that it was Seung Mina who gave Yunsung White Storm, but this isn't a major story alteration, just a minor one for the sake of my plot. Second: I already have the first six chapters (not counting prologue) written up in completion and three others are more than half done. Based on the reviews or encouragement to update, I will. Even though I like this fic I'm working with, I might not continue past Chapter 9 if nobody reads it except for one or two (who I know will read it). Considering dropping the rating to PG-13, despite the vomiting, violence, and trauma. There might be nudity, but nothing really worthy of an R rating.

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine at all. Don't own SC2

Chapter II – Training the Flame

A white sakura petal drifted onto the red hair of Yunsung, clinging to a few stands of hair folding over his forehead. He cupped his lips and blew a heavy blast of air upward, sending the delicate blossom on a new course. He gazed upon the petal as it slowly flew away, until his vision focused onto that of the huge crowd gathered in the courtyard, surrounding the entrance to the dojo temple. Despite the beautiful day, the youth felt miserable. Yunsung leaned against the entrance to the dojo itself with his arms crossed in front of him. He didn't feel like standing with the rest of his comrades, it would only make him feel worse. "I can't believe I'm sitting through with this," he mumbled underneath his breath, looking about and grumbling silently to himself, scratching his hand nonchalantly. "I heard that," a girl's voice rung out. Yunsung shifted his eyes to the young girl walking toward him. He remained in the same position, although he put an exaggerated look of placid carelessness on his face.
"What's it to you?" he told the master's daughter. Her green silk dress complimented that of the orange and white uniform Yunsung wore.
"Come on, you're childhood hero is about to become the new master of the dojo," Seung Mina chuckled. Yunsung rolled his eyes as she turned to peer off into the crowd that was bustling and swelling not far off. He certainly didn't need to hear that from her. "Some friend you are. Just leave me alone." He began walking away, but Seung Mina grabbed his wrist. The red-head quickly cocked his head toward the master's daughter. His eyes were that of any angst-ridden child. "When are you going to grow up? You used to go up to Hwang as a kid and ask if he could teach you something new - and he would every single time. The least you could do is acknowledge him in his ceremony." As soon as Yunsung open his mouth to retaliate, a large gong resounded throughout the courtyard. "It's starting, come on, I saved two spots up front for us." Still gripping Yunsung's wrist, she pulled him down the center aisle to the front of the temple. "What!?" The young swordsman tried retaliating, but he didn't want to cause a disruption. He forced a smile on his face, as all his fellow students saw him being dragged by Seung Mina to the front. They stood in front of the crowd, respectfully standing and facing the entrance to the temple.
"I can't believe you're putting me through this," he chanted with clenched teeth over to the young girl, keeping his head straight to the temple.
"Just shut up and grow up for once," she replied in the same manner back to him. They both turned their attention to Master Seung as he stepped up to the front and began speaking.



Hong made sure to leave right after the ceremony. He went straight to his room and shut the door. He didn't want anybody to bother him. Lying in his bed, he gazed out toward the crystal blue sky. It would be the last time he'd be able to do so for a few years. His room looked neat and tidy. Most of his belongings were stored away and the few that he decided to take with him were already packed in his burlap sack.
No one knew of his plans, but he was determined to show everyone what he's capable of. His plan was to sneak out in the cover of darkness, only to leave a note on his bed about his whereabouts so that no one would worry.
Staring at the fluffy cotton balls in the sky finally calmed Yunsung down. He was feeling a lot better, although that fight against the ninja from last night still lingered in the back of his mind.
"Who am I?" he thought. "Why am I here in the first place?" His mind drifted to his future journey. He pondered about all the great challenges ahead…and how he would triumph over all of them. "I'll bring back the Sword of Salvation," he whispered under his breath. "I'll save Korea. Mark my words." A knock suddenly echoed from this door. The red-headed youth let out an annoyed breath as he spoke softly, an irked tone apparent in his voice, "Come in," Yunsung replied in a disenchanted manner. He remained lying down with his hands behind his head as the wooden door slowly crept open. The red-head casually glanced over to his door to see who disturbed him. His brown eyes widened with surprise as he immediately jumped off his bed. He stood up straight, looking dead on to his visitor. "Master Seung," Yunsung acknowledged. He bowed respectfully, with his left hand cupping over his right first in front of him. Master Seung Han Myong simply bowed and began to speak.
"I have heard that you are going on a journey," the master started. Yunsung's eyes widened once again. He looked toward the floor, wondering how to respond. He knew he was caught; someone had snitched on him, but who? No one knew of his plans. "May I ask who spoke of me," he said in a quiet tone. His right hand trembled a bit as he continued to maintain eye focus on his master.
"I have my sources" grinned the wizened face coolly, "...not to mention your room being so clean and that bag of belongings next to you." Yunsung gave a face of disappointment as he looked away from Master Seung. A slight grin appeared on the old man's face as he turned around.
"Follow me," he replied, walking out of his room. Surprised, Hong followed his master to an unknown destination.
'Where is he taking me now?' he thought to himself. 'I bet he's going to make me heave that huge boulder up the hill again.' The youth cringed at the thought of it. But when the master turned at a different corridor, Yunsung knew he wasn't being taken there. Master Seung pushed a set of double doors open, stepping into his private sparing room where he gave private instructions to his students. The master walked out to the middle of the tatami mat, stopped and turned around. He looked directly into Hong's eyes. The master brought out an open palm; slowly swing it once from left to right. Yunsung hesitantly turned around. On either side of the double doors stood a wall of various weapons private weapons that belong to Master Seung, carved and gilded with shimmering materials which reflected that calm and dimly tranquil light seeping down from above.
"Choose," he heard his master say from behind. Although he was curious as to why, he dare not ask. He walked up to the weapons display, looking at them as a child would look at a bunch of toys. He searched for a bladed weapon, as swords were his specialty. His eyes caught to a pair of butterfly swords. The handles were exquisitely handcrafted out of aged silver. A phoenix was carved into each hand with a red, silk tassel hanging from the butt end. The blade itself looked to be about two and a half feet long and flared out toward the tip. Yunsung didn't recognize the metal. It had a strange, rosy appearance with a carved dragon on each sword near the handle. He lifted the two swords from it carrying hooks. They had excellent weight and balance. 'These are incredible,' he stated to himself, inspecting the weapons in gleeful awe. He returned to the mat with the two swords. Master Seung was still waiting at the same spot. "Very interesting," he murmured, still with an unperturbed and undisturbed look plastered on his aging features. "Not many are attracted to the Swords of Jung-Ku." Upon finishing his sentence, he brought out a large machete from behind his back. Yunsung held in a quick breath, wondering where he got the machete from. Master Seung went into a rigid but flexible stance, murmuring, "Attack."
Hong stood his ground, confused. "Attack now!" Seung's voice swelled as a new air began to fill him. Yunsung assumed his own fighting stance. All remained motionless as Yunsung studied his master's stance. 'The machete is a very graceful sword,' he thought to himself. 'I need to be extremely careful.' At the sound of an unheard whip, Yunsung lunged forward with a stab with his left sword, followed by an upward slice with his right. Master Seung repelled each attack with his machete without moving an inch from his spot.

"Attack in earnest, now." the master stated, almost poking fun at the boy, just as eerily calm. 'He asked for it,' Hong thought. He commenced with a sideway swipe into a front snap kick. Brining his power arm up, he initiated an exotic combination that could only be done on those particular types of swords. Master Seung simply parried each of the attacks.
Yunsung then shifted his weight forward into a vertical leap, creating a vertical crescent slash. Master Seung had evaded youth's attacks and finally moved in with an attack of his own. As Hong landed, he was immediately sent onto a defensive stance. Master Seung was performing an exotic combination of his own. His relentless attacks were putting Hong's defensive capabilities to the max, allowing few chances for him to make an attack. A window of opportunity finally availed itself to Yunsung. Taking advantage, he blocked the machete's incoming strike with his left sword, while thrusting his right sword forward. Master Seung simply sidestepped to his left, while smoothly sweeping Yunsung off his feet. The youth fell hard on his back to the floor. He quickly attempted to get back up, but found the blade of the machete pointed at his throat. He had been defeated.
'Damn…fell for the oldest trick in the book,' he told himself, disappointed with his own backfired maneuver, 'This day can't get any worse.'
"Yunsung," remarked Seung, easing his stance, "if you cannot defeat me, how do you expect to beat Hwang?" The words crushed his spirit. How could he say that? Yet, it was true. Hwang will be the new master and Seung Han Myong admitted that Hwang had surpassed him. How could he beat him, if he couldn't beat his teacher. But he just had to. Somewhere deep inside, he knew that he could defeat Hwang. Master Seung kneeled and sat on the floor, placing the machete on his lap. Yunsung got up from the mat and sat on the floor in front of him, brushing himself off ceremoniously.
"Now, what is troubling you?" he asked. Yunsung reflected a moment, although he knew perfectly well what was wrong.
"No one believes in me. Everyone thinks that I'm some kid who always complains that I can do better…but I can do better, if they just gave me chance to prove it!" his volume too rose as he.
"I had given you a chance, did I not?" Yunsung looked to the ground. He stood sat corrected there. "Hmm, continue," he replied, rubbing his chin.
"Hwang, ignores my challenge. He still thinks of me as his little brother he never had, but I'm not little anymore and Seung Mina thinks the same."
Master Seung stood up and walked to an ornate, mahogany box in the corner of the room. He flipped a latch and opened the long box, revealing its contents. The master brought forth a Chinese sword, with two golden eagles encasing it's grip on the steel blade. The handle was made out of an exotic material that even Master Seung did not know. He walked back to his student, how was by now standing. "This sword is called White Storm. It is family heirloom that has been passed down from generation to generation. It is believed that whoever holds this blade shall be able to reflect on his deepest thoughts and desires. It should do you well on your journey."
"Journey?" Yunsung asked.
"Yes, you were planning on seeking the Sword of Salvation, were you not?" his master questioned. The red-headed youth looked a little stunned.
"Yes Master, but…" Master Seung brought up his hand and Yunsung shut up immediately with a waving palm, flattened before the flame-haired Korean. My young Yunsung. You have much to learn. In life, we take upon a journey to find our destiny. For you to take on a journey of this epic proportion shows your limitless determination and aspiration to be the best. Although you have trained well here, there are things that I cannot teach you within these walls. Take this sword and use it as your guide. Believe in it, and it will believe in you. Take this along with my blessing for safe journey, so you can come back to show me your growth." Yunsung was left a little awe-struck. Although he was cocky and temperamental, he was also a very emotional person. The fact was proven by a tear rolling down his cheek. He took the sword from Master Seung and bowed respectfully. His master did the same. Master Seung began walking out of the dojo to leave Yunsung alone. He stopped suddenly in his tracks and spoke.
"Hwang was about the same age and skill as you, when he first left for his journey for the Sword of Salvation. I offered him that very sword, but he did not have a liking to it for some odd reason. Perhaps it is in better hands now." He walked off, as Yunsung smiled, looking at his reflection along the blade.