Prince of Embers

7. Flaming Fingertips

Hongjoong opened the doors on the white veranda with a grand gesture. The glass giving a peek inside did no justice to the luxurious hall that greeted them.

The mansion was tall and lofty, it even had a basement. When they raided it, expensive vases got shattered and blood splotched over the white curtains, but Seonghwa brought the place back in shape. Light doused the wooden floorboards and fed the plants in their tall pots. They framed the gathered treasures the pirates robbed from the prior owner: artworks framed in elaborate wood, maps, and documents of land ownership. There were ancient rapiers and pieces of armour, even a stuffed owl that never failed to amuse Hongjoong.

The manor comprised four large rooms; a kitchen, a dining room, and a study for their plans with the island and the treasures they sought. The bed in the spacious sleeping quarters was massive and sparked Hongjoong's creativity whenever they visited.

Down in the basement, they stored weapons and equipment, nothing of grand worth in case they ever got raided.

Seonghwa adored the fireplace most, along with the chandelier that doused the large rooms in a homey setting. Though a tropical island was never in need for flames to heat it, he liked to ignite them just for the dance of light and shadows across the walls.

Hongjoong liked the unnecessary clock tower.

Upon entering their palace, Tikki whizzed away to look at everything with awe. The house had belonged to the nobility, so its grimy, humble capturers pretended to be its new kings.

Yongguk looked impressed while Seonghwa scurried away to find the lass who promised to look after their home in return for protection from greedy pirate hands. She kept her word. Not a speck of dust lined the polished furniture.

"I stick to my word. You live up to your title, Pirate King."

"E'er since we came to the Black Bay, mateys been callin' me that more often. It be time to show 'em what that reckon means." When he made for the large dining table that could fit the entire main crew and more, Yongguk tracked him inside their home. With a groan, Hongjoong pulled the heavy belt with weapons over his chest and clunked it on the glossy surface before him. He kicked up his legs, relishing in the few moments without Seonghwa's nagging.

"What be yer infatuation with it?" He asked as Yongguk settled down. Seonghwa showed Tikki around the house while their maid prepared the rare coffee they found here. Yongguk's head lifted when its aroma filled the air. It was imported from the farms of the near island, where workers ground up beans to pour a devilish drink. Another absurd idea of the royal family.

"The world has greyed, and the tides changed. Soon, other crews will come to take the throne and abolish the old powers. You'll need to adjust if you wish to stay relevant."

Hongjoong chuckled, though he knew better than to mistrust this man's foresight.

"New buckos can bow down to us scourges or they get scuttled. Arrogance does nay win against a blade."

"Yet, you aren't getting younger," Yongguk reminded. Dark lashes fanned over his cheeks when he lowered his voice. "Or at least, your crew isn't."

Hongjoong's smile died.

It was a matter they masterfully avoided, skirting around it as if through reefs. But though he just as often ached and groaned about past injuries, Hongjoong was the odd one out. He survived a higher blood loss, revived when close to death.

He was undying, and though a blade to his neck could kill him like any other, the woes of time left him untouched.

But not his crew, not his ship.