The jewel sat enclosed by the glass confinements, it's cerulean hue coruscating within the space it occupied. It looked absolutely priceless, ablaze with a rare allurance, yet laced with a dangerous dazzle, sharp yet stunning, beauty captured within its bosom fenced by an age old tale of betrayal and blood.

It was shaped like the heart of a mortal, a human, skillfully neat. And as it rested upon the cushion enveloped with a plush incarnadine cover, it's radiance seemed to entice greed, way beyond the dreams of avarice and an insane lust for capture, to possess and own.

The azure kernel. The heart of the marine.

Cold fingers touched the glass, heavy rings adorning them. Eyes ablaze in the pyre of rapacity, his gaze was solely fixated upon the jewel, the corners of his lips curling upwards into a malicious grin, exhibiting sinister desires. He hummed a melody, finger tips lightly tapping upon the transparent surface, as the vessel he stood within rocked in a gentle motion, the raspy breaths of the sea breeze whirling freely within the chamber.

Oh! To snatcheth the gem off the marine's breast
And locketh 't within the mortal's chest,

Long may the hearts of the hardy lads sail'eth,
And so be quoth of the pirate's tale.

[A/N: This was written solely by me so I hope the errors shall be pardoned.]

"To snatcheth the gem from the marine's breast," whispered the pirate, the grin intact and eyes attached to the gem, "And to never let it out of grasp," he completed, letting his hands fall to his sides and release a sigh of satisfaction. The space within was barely illuminated, with the prior exception of a single small window permitting a few rays of the morning sunshine indoors to intervene the gloom of the room.

With a last look of a boastful contentment, he turned around and exited the precious chamber, closing the wooden coverage and turning the key within the lock with a successful click, further proceeding to attach the key back to the chain cradled between his collarbones. The shine of the new day was immensely pleasing and he couldn't wait to venture into the unknowns once again, especially when he and his crew was already accompanied by an anonymous breathing soul upon their ship.

He couldn't wait to find out more.

* * *

"You have really pretty eye lashes," the boy spoke, finally breaking the monotony of a prolonged silence, "And such a beautiful face."

Song Mingi or Mingi, as the crew called him, stirred away into the pot, the bubbling broth within emitting a savory smell, quite appetizing. He then turned to his left and picked up a small container, it's contents being certain flavoursome spices that he had accumulated during their varied journeys. Mingi sprinkled some upon the liquid in the pot and continued stirring it, while simultaneously  glancing at the boy sitting with his back pressed against the wall right in front of his vision.

"Th-Thank you," the newcomer stuttered, playing with the folds of the cloth he was currently attired in. Seonghwa, the new occupant of the ship, was given a good bath, complete with an extremely precious soap that was solely Mingi's possession and was yet to be used. It smelt of lavenders, delicate and sweet, quite foreign to the user's nostrils. But he wouldn't deny. He loved the aroma.

Seonghwa was dressed in a loose shirt, white with patches of yellow in places, a little discolored and quite oversized for him, making it all airy for his self and he actually appreciated it. It was accompanied by a pair of brown trousers, the color almost faded but still exhibiting a promising longevity. He was given shoes to wear, stitched from cheap leather. The other sailors aboard seldom wore shoes, but Mingi had a feeling that this lad might not be like the other sailors and would take time to get accustomed to all their ways. Hence, he decided to lend him his own.

"I won't ask you about your origin, even if I'm curious," Mingi continued, looking at the pot and then glancing at Seonghwa, his gaze specifically fixed upon the little shell hanging from the brown thread around the boy's neck, "That's up to the captain to inquire. For now, welcome to the crew. You can trust me with almost everything and I promise you a worthy friendship in return." The boy's smile was warm and Seonghwa felt quite at ease to return a soft grin back.

"Mingi," a loud voice called from outdoors. The owner of the name looked up at the door, only to see a member of the crew blocking the sunlight at the doorstep, leaning against the frame and looking at the space between the two occupants of the chamber before focusing his attention to the boy he called.

"Wooyoung," Mingi responded with slight disappointment, "What brings you here?"

He knew well, this particular member of the crew was never up to any good.

"You got any bread, matey?" Wooyoung asked, while running his fingers through his hairs and quickly stealing a glance at Seonghwa for a split of seconds.

"For what?" Mingi immediately questioned, raising a brow.

"There's a big fish upon the deck right now and it's still alive," explained the talkative sailor, entering the room and sitting on the wooden floor in a crossed leg fashion, "And I want to examine whether the crumbs I feed it stays the same in its belly when it'll be cut."

Mingi stared.

"No way in the name of heavens am I draining the valuable food stock just to indulge you in your tomfoolery," Mingi scolded, looking daggers at the other, "Now get lost."

"I'm bored," Wooyoung pouted, fidgeting with the rings around his fingers, and before Mingi could say anything further, he quickly shifted his gaze to the other boy in the room and smiled radiantly.

"Hey," he began, waving his hand vigorously at the baffled stranger, "I'm Wooyoung, and you must call me Woo. I'm the mischief-maker of this merry family and I'm quite an all rounder. I'll be always there by your side but if you dare to come any close to a particular Choi San, then we definitely need to have a serious conversation."

Seonghwa blinked.

"Stop scaring him with all your unnecessary details, Woo," Mingi chided, looking extremely annoyed, "He needs time to settle."

"Just letting our new fish know the rules, y'know," Wooyoung replied nonchalantly, giving Mingi a look and then getting off the floor, "Call me when the food is cooked. I'll assemble the rest," and with that he walked away, humming something to himself.

"Pay no attention to him," Mingi immediately spoke once Wooyoung was out of sight, "He just loves to babble too much and most of what he says is completely useless. Just ignore it all."

Seonghwa hummed in response. He did have a thousand questions to ask but chose to stay quiet.

He had other thoughts crammed in his head.

The morning slipped away too soon and so did the afternoon. Seonghwa liked the meal, warm broth with a piece of bread. It was simple yet proper and the boy was grateful for it. Seonghwa had not communicated much with the others, except for a little chat with Mingi. After the lunch hours, he retired back to the chamber allotted to him, which was presumably the captain's before he arrived, and stayed there till the dusk, quietly observing the firmament transform from sweet lazuline to a blazing shade of scarlet and crimson.

He did not nap, instead, chose to stay awake and listen to the calls of the sailors and the hymns of the sea. His thoughts were in a disarray and he needed some space to settle them in an arranged fashion.

After all, he had purpose.

* * *

The night was dark, the sea breeze being quite stable and the vessel presently requiring no specific directions. The sailors had taken a break for the day and most had retreated back into the comforts of their chambers, some still loitering about the deck, indulged in low gossips. The moon was veiled behind the fleeting clouds, occasionally peeping out of it's coverage. But due to the absence of any special threat, the ship was out of any potential threats for the night.

He moved with pace, an air of determination and strong purpose engulfing his presence. He seemed to know the ways, swiftly switching his feet and walking in a hushed manner, his footfalls careful and low. Eyes darted from corner to corner, checking behind his shoulder every moment whether anyone had caught his lead and was following his intentions. The chamber was not too far and soon, he found himself standing in front of it.

The door was locked.

In the dim illumination of the nocturnal glow, his eyes fell upon the ancient lock, slightly rusted, hanging heavily against the entrance. He sighed. Not knowing what to do next, he extended his hand forward to touch the metal.

But before he could, he was abruptly interrupted by a voice right behind him. And that, without a doubt, made a sharp chill instantly cascade down his spine. He gulped.

"Trying to be inquisitive, pretty?"

--------------------------

Thoughts?