"My son, come with me, it's time," Admiral Kim Beomseok said, extending his hand.

Excited, Seokjin, who had barely finished his breakfast, jumped up hastily, bumping into the low table still laden with various dishes, and joined his father, who was wearing his admiral's uniform. His mother, Kim Jinae, still seated, cast a disapproving look at her husband.

"I still think that at five years old, he's too young to go to the naval base," she protested.

"Nonsense," her husband retorted.

"Nonsense!" Seokjin repeated, laughing and hopping with excitement.

His father placed an affectionate hand on his head. Father and son looked very much alike, and Beomseok also wanted to pass down his love for the sea to Seokjin.

"He's the son of an admiral, and he'll become one too," the admiral declared to his wife. "He needs to discover this profession as early as possible so he knows what awaits him and why he needs to grow into a strong man. Besides, we've made him wait long enough, haven't we, Seokjin?"

"Yes!" the boy exclaimed. Impatient, he tugged his father's arm toward the front door. "Let's go, dad! See you later, mom!"

Laughing, his father followed without hesitation, while his mother called after them, saying she would teach him proper manners when he returned. Seokjin hoped she would forget by the time he got back, but his thoughts quickly drifted away from his mother's threats. He could only think about the naval base he was about to finally see after imagining it so many times through his father's stories. He was even going to see the Taewang, the warship his father captained!

They mounted one of his father's horses, which had been saddled for them by a groom, to ride through the town and toward the naval port. Along the way, many people stopped to respectfully greet admiral Kim, and Seokjin felt a thrill of pride. Perched in front of his father on the horse, he enthusiastically waved back at the people, beaming, which often drew laughter and smiles in return.

An elderly craftswoman sitting on the ground and weaving a basket with practiced hands paused to study Seokjin. She nodded with approval and said:

"You have a beautiful child, admiral."

Not in the least intimidated by her intense gaze, Seokjin stared back at her in turn. The old woman was ugly, her hands rough and damaged from years of weaving wicker. It was a craft she had practiced her entire life and still relied on to survive, selling the coarse, crude baskets she made.

He was about to let the old woman know exactly what he thought of her, just as she had done with him. After all, his mother had taught him that honesty was a virtue. However, he was interrupted by a tide of women who swarmed around their slow-moving horse, speaking with an almost frantic energy. Their crowd forced Admiral Kim to halt his mount.

The admiral's son had rarely been seen in public since his birth, kept sheltered like a treasured jewel, which, in many ways, he was to his parents. Now, as the young boy was exposed openly to curious eyes for the first time, his striking beauty drew gasps of admiration.

He was soon engulfed by a flood of compliments, and he basked in the attention with delight. Many of the women addressed Admiral Kim directly, proudly mentioning that they had daughters of Seokjin's age. They suggested that it would be wise for him to one day marry a girl from Eobu rather than someone from a distant region.

However, such adult conversations quickly bored Seokjin. The novelty of the crowd's attention wore off, and his thoughts drifted back to the sea and the warships he was so eager to see. Irritated by the delay, he eventually blurted out in a loud voice:

"Stop talking to these old grannies now, dad, and let's go, at a gallop!"

His authoritarian tone and lack of politeness stunned everyone who heard it. A murmur of disapproval rippled through the group. Could it be that Admiral Kim's son was a spoiled and ill-mannered child? Seokjin, unbothered by their judgment, stuck out his tongue at them, making his disdain abundantly clear.

All eyes turned to the admiral, expecting him to discipline his son for interrupting him and, worse, for speaking so disrespectfully about the people who had just been showering him with praise. Yet, instead of reprimanding the boy, Admiral Kim gently soothed his sulking son and apologized on his behalf, explaining that Seokjin wasn't accustomed to being around so many people and was probably overwhelmed by the attention.

With that, he excused himself from the crowd, lightly pressing his heels into the horse's sides and finally setting off at a gallop, just as his son had demanded. Seokjin, beaming with satisfaction, gripped the reins tightly in his small hands, thoroughly pleased with himself.

At this brisk pace, they quickly reached the outskirts of Eobu's military port, where other naval soldiers—ranging from high-ranking officers to humble deckhands—were arriving, either on horseback or on foot, ready to begin their day's duties.

Admiral Kim dismounted from his horse and helped his son down before handing the reins to a stablehand at the base. Overwhelmed by a rush of new sights, sounds, and smells, Seokjin's wide eyes darted in every direction, captivated by the bustling activity. Everywhere he looked, there was something to discover: soldiers in training, weapons being inspected, cannons polished to a shine, and, most importantly, the ships—several grand three-masted vessels that towered above the harbor, and other smaller ships. 

One of these magnificent three-masted ship, Seokjin imagined, must be his father's. Surely it was the largest and most imposing of them all. Fueled by excitement, he immediately resolved to search for it, treating the quest like a treasure hunt in this wonderful and unfamiliar place.

But just as he was about to sprint off toward the docks, his father's firm hand caught him, halting his eager steps. Disappointment clouded Seokjin's face as he looked away from the ships.

"Stay with me, Seokjin," his father said in a voice that left no room for argument. "There are some people I want you to meet first."

"But I want to see the ships!" Seokjin protested, tugging at his father's hand with all the determination a five-year-old could muster.

"You'll see them later, with me," Beomseok replied calmly but firmly. "But for now, you must stay where I can see you. This is not a place for a child to wander off alone—it can be dangerous."

Seokjin frowned, his lips forming a disappointed pout. Frustration bubbled inside him as he realized his father was just as cautious about his safety as his mother had been. He'd been hoping for more freedom, but now it seemed his father wouldn't allow him to roam the naval base as he pleased.

Sulking, he followed his father reluctantly and when Beomseok introduced him to the senior officers in his unit, including his second-in-command, Vice Admiral Kim Kangdae, Seokjin made his displeasure clear. Scowling, he pulled grotesque faces at the men, sticking out his tongue and contorting his expression into a series of impolite grimaces.

The officers exchanged bewildered glances, clearly stunned by the boy's behavior. Beomseok, equally shocked, straightened up and barked sharply:

"Seokjin!"

"I want to see the ships!" Seokjin shot back, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and glaring up at his father.

The officers stifled their chuckles, unsure whether they should laugh at the boy's audacity or feel secondhand embarrassment for the admiral. Beomseok, caught between stupefaction and an unwilling amusement he dared not show, sighed deeply. His son was proving to be just as stubborn as his mother had warned.

Faced with the sight of their usually unshakable admiral being so thoroughly outmatched by his own little son, the officers finally burst into laughter.

"The little man already wants to be a grown-up," Kangdae observed, grinning. "You should let him explore the base, Captain. You can see it in his eyes: he's an adventurer, fearless, just like his old man. Or, well, like his old man before he became a father!"

His booming laughter echoed across the gathering, triggering another wave of mirth from the other officers. Stories of their wild youth resurfaced and took over the conversation, their vivid memories capturing everyone's attention.

Seizing his chance, Seokjin slipped away unnoticed, rushing towards the docks.

Fortunately, as many had seen him enter with Admiral Kim earlier, no one thought to stop the boy. He ran past sailors and soldiers until he came to an abrupt halt, his gaze drawn to a ship with its sails fully unfurled—the only one among the vessels docked there.

He had never seen anything so extraordinary in his life. The three-masted ship towered over him, easily three or four times taller than his house. Above, far above, the sails danced in the morning breeze, their white expanse resembling curtains of clouds that occasionally parted to reveal glimpses of the blue sky beyond.

Seokjin was fascinated. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to climb to the very top of the tallest mast and see the world from above, as though he were flying.

Spotting a wooden gangway leading up to the ship, he noticed sailors busily loading crates, barrels, and even cannons onto the deck. He hesitated, uncertain whether his presence would be tolerated aboard a ship—especially one that, to his disappointment, was not his father's. The name painted on its hull read Hwangsaechi—The Swordfish.  The figurehead was a swordfish, not the crowned king that his father had described to him. 

Cautiously, Seokjin hid behind a cannon mounted on a rolling wooden carriage, waiting for the right moment. When the sailors were distracted, he dashed up the gangway and sprinted onto the deck, his small figure going unnoticed.

His heart pounding with excitement, he quickly hid behind a pile of crates and barrels near the port rail. Curious, he began pulling on the lids of the barrels, trying to open them to see if he could hide inside. 

One finally gave way and the smell of dried fish wafted out, sharp and overwhelming. Seokjin gagged, his stomach turning at the foul smell. But as unpleasant as it was, he found it an excellent hiding spot. Gritting his teeth, he climbed into the barrel, squeezing himself in among the salted fish scales that scratched at his bare legs. 

Carefully, he pulled the wooden lid back over his head, sealing himself inside but leaving a small space open to make sure he can breathe at ease. The cramped space was far from comfortable but Seokjin didn't mind. He was certain his father would never find him here. His heart raced with the excitement of his cleverness. Never before had he felt such a rush of adventure.

He hadn't planned to fall asleep, of course. But as the gentle sway of the ship and the distant hum of sailors' voices lulled him, Seokjin drifted off. Hidden among the salted fish, he slipped into a wonderful dream that took him on a magical odyssey across vast seas populated by flying whales who made him captain of an immense boat flying above the seas...

A sudden jolt woke him and when he opened his eyes again, it was pitch dark, and his nostrils were filled with a nauseating stench. The unknown he was immersed in worried him because he had difficulty emerging from his dream. Soon the sounds that had woken him reached him again: the creaking of the ropes, the hurried footsteps of the sailors, the shouted orders on the deck...

It took him a few seconds to remember he was inside a barrel full of dried fish and why he had ended up there in the first place. His worry left him immediately and he smiled. But his smile vanished when a sudden lurch made his stomach churn, and he nearly threw up. This prompted him to lift the lid of the barrel to get out and breathe fresh air.

The first thing he saw when he cracked the lid open was the railing. The second thing, beyond the railing, was the sea—blue, vast, and endless. His breath caught. When he had hidden, the view beyond the railing had been of the port of Eobu. Did that mean...?

Seokjin's heart raced, overtaken by a new excitement: he was at sea—sailing! Far from being scared, he was delighted. Without meaning to, he had boarded a ship about to set sail. He mischievously imagined his father searching for him everywhere on land, completely unaware that his son was aboard a vessel now out on the water. His dream of being crowned young captain by flying whales no longer seemed so far away.

Still hidden behind the stacks of crates and barrels that had yet to be stowed in the hold, he climbed out of his barrel of fish and approached closer to the railing, standing on tiptoe to admire the endless blue expanse. 

"It's amazing..." he thought out loud.

However, when he turned his gaze toward the stern of the ship, his excitement waned as he realized the shore was much closer than he had imagined.

Moreover, the ship was almost stationary, merely rocking irregularly with the waves, which made his stomach churn again. When he looked up, he noticed that the sails he had admired so much earlier had been furled. The ship seemed less majestic to him now, it was nothing more than a gigantic pile of wood, like a forest devoid of its foliage.

Dizzy, he lowered his head and placed a hand over his mouth. But he couldn't hold it back for long: doubled over, he threw up on the wooden floor of the ship the breakfast he had eaten before leaving for the naval base.

Fortunately for him, the shouts of the sailors were so loud that he went unnoticed. Ashamed of having vomited, Seokjin wondered what his father would think of him if he found out. Would he believe that his son wasn't fit to be a sailor after all? Seokjin swore never to tell him. Wiping his mouth and grimacing in disgust as he swallowed back bile, he tried to ignore his stomachache by focusing again on the shouting echoing from the other side of his hiding spot.

He risked a cautious glance through the gap between two crates to see what the sailors were doing. The men, gathered in a semicircle facing the opposite railing to starboard, were looking at something Seokjin couldn't see.

"Keelhauling! Keelhauling! Keelhauling!" the sailors began to chant in rhythm.

Seokjin didn't know what the word meant, but the men's excitement drew him in. The air was heavy with a tension he had never felt before, one that hinted at the gravity of the situation. Was it some kind of ritual or perhaps a war cry? Could they be preparing to face an enemy ship?

The boy's heart raced at the thought. Was he about to witness his first battle as part of the navy? He hoped so—his father would be so proud of him!

But his smile vanished when the sailors suddenly began hoisting a chained man into the air by pulling on a rope wrapped around his waist. The man was wearing the uniform of Joseon, but his right foot was weighted down by a heavy iron ball, like that of a prisoner. His cries of anguish tore through the air as he thrashed and struggled.

Wide-eyed, Seokjin followed the man with his gaze as he was lifted higher and higher, first above the deck and then over the sea. He watched the scene with a mixture of fascination and confusion. Why was the man in this situation? Why were the other sailors still pulling on the rope, even though their comrade was so terrified? Was this normal for a sailor? Would he, too, have to endure this to become a sailor?

He hoped not—he wouldn't have liked swimming in the open sea, in such deep and turbulent waters where man-eating monsters, called sharks, lived. 

A sudden thought made him furrow his brow: he wondered how the man would manage to swim, chained as he was, and how he would resurface to breathe, weighed down as he was by the iron ball at his foot. Were sailors extraordinary enough to perform such feats? Did he, too, need to be capable of this? He wasn't sure he could be, even as the son of Admiral Kim and he felt ashamed again.

A familiar-looking man, whom Seokjin identified as the captain because his uniform resembled his father's, stepped forward into the center of the semicircle facing the prisoner suspended in mid-air. He was holding a parchment in his hand. He solemnly read from it, and while Seokjin didn't understand much, one part stood out clearly:

"Out at sea, it is the law of the sea that applies, not that of the king. You have been found guilty of smuggling, like a common pirate, when you were meant to be a proud and virtuous soldier of Joseon. Now, the sea will decide your fate: it will either swallow you or spit you back out."

The man's whimpering grew louder, and Seokjin could feel his fear even from across the deck. That fear paralyzed him. It kept him from intervening, from shouting at them to stop, to leave the poor man alone, or he'd tell his father everything so that he arrests them and punishes them. 

He couldn't even look away from the scene, though it felt like a nightmare he desperately wanted to wake from.

What happened next was so quick that his silent question was answered almost immediately: the man was dropped into the sea with a loud splash, and his screams were swallowed by the waves under Seokjin's horrified eyes. The sailors' eyes were fixed on the water, where a frothy swirl spread, but it quickly dissipated, as though nothing had happened, as if the unfortunate man had never been there.

A stocky sailor with a deep, gravelly voice, wearing the uniform of a quartermaster, barked an order:

"Wait until he sinks deep into the sea before pulling him under the keel."

Under the keel?! So that was what the word 'keelhauling' meant?! Panicked, Seokjin realized what was about to happen: the sailors were going to drag the man under the ship. His breath caught in his chest as he imagined the man, trapped between the ship and the sea, alone, struggling to keep the water from invading his lungs and stealing his life. 

To his right several meters from him, Seokjin heard sailors rushing against the starboard rail and saw them methodically pulling on a rope that he hadn't noticed before, which disappeared into the depths of the sea, exactly opposite the place where the chained man had fallen.

Mortified, the boy watched the wet rope slowly, too slowly, being pulled back up. During those long seconds, he continued to imagine what he could not see: the sailor, bound by ropes in the dark, airless water, scraping the bottom of the ship as he waited to be hauled up to the surface, hoping he could hold his breath long enough.

Seokjin tried to hold his own breath to see if it was possible to last so long without air, but more than once he had to gasp for it, praying that the man had more breath in him than he did. For if the man tried to open his mouth to breathe, it would only fill with seawater. In his mind, Seokjin was screaming: Come up! Come up now!

He was relieved when someone shouted:

"I see him, he's there!"

At last, the sea was spitting out what it had swallowed.

The quartermaster with the deep voice, who had spoken earlier, stepped forward to observe the sea, and in an indifferent voice, he ordered:

"Alright, haul him up now."

With his heart racing, Seokjin leaned forward to see a dark shape appear just below the surface of the water. A few seconds later, the sailor emerged and was hauled back onto the deck, where he collapsed heavily, lifeless, his clothes torn, though they had been intact when he had fallen into the water. Was it the ship's hull that had caused that, or had it been the sea monsters? Seokjin wondered, shivering.

He watched the sailor's pale face, most of which was hidden by his wet hair plastered against his skin. Another sailor came to shake him to wake him up, then pressed his hands heavily against his chest. Under his body, something red began to appear, forming a large puddle. It was when the person shaking him finally said "It's over" that Seokjin understood what it was: blood. A lot of blood. Not the little bit of blood that came from his knees when he scraped them falling while playing, or from his fingers when he cut them on paper while learning to read. 

He felt a new wave of nausea wash over him, but this time it had nothing to do with the blue sea. It was this new red sea that flooded his vision and imprinted itself in his mind. There was so much blood that he realized the lifeless face he was staring at wasn't that of a sleeping man: it was that of a dead man. He was staring at death with his own eyes, for the first time.

As the sailors scattered after the execution and others dealt with the body, the mutilated back of the sailor was revealed to Seokjin, horrifying him. He finally found his voice again, and the silence of the ship was broken by his scream of pure terror, which startled the nearby sailors.

Soon, astonished men appeared behind the crates that had hidden him until then, surrounding the crying boy who had just collapsed to his knees, struck by the reality that had crashed into him like a brutal wave. But his blurred gaze did not allow him to see the sailors; all he could see was the dead and mutilated man, for even though his eyes no longer saw him, his memory kept that image alive and would likely haunt him forever.

"What's going on?!" a cavernous voice barked.

The quartermaster pushed all his men aside to see what had caused the gathering, and his eyes widened when he saw Seokjin.

"What are you doing here, brat?!" he roared, grabbing the back of Seokjin's collar and lifting him off the ground.

Trembling and convinced he would meet the same fate as the other man, Seokjin cried even harder, whimpering: 

"Please, don't throw me into the sea!"

"But that's what we do with stowaways!" the quartermaster growled, shaking the child violently as if he were a worthless sack. Luckily for him, Seokjin had nothing left to throw up.

He forced the boy to look toward the bloody body of the drowned sailor, which had been placed on a straw mattress while other sailors frantically cleaned the blood staining the ship's wood. "Just like the sailors who dare commit crimes. They face the torment of the keelhauling, nothing less!"

In Seokjin's mind, the word Keelhauling now referred to a giant sea monster living under boats and which devoured those thrown into the sea.

"No! I won't do it again, I swear! I swear ! I just want to go home!" he whimpered.

Unmoved by his pleas, the man repeated: 

"Go home? Do you think you can get away with it so easily without paying the consequences of your actions?" 

He sharply lifted Seokjin over the ship's railing, and the boy found himself suspended above the water, gripped by an indescribable terror that nearly made him faint. His body froze, and he lost all control, to the point where soon his clothes were wet at his crotch.

The quartermaster sneered mockingly and called out to his men

"Look at this, the kid peed himself!"

There were a few laughs, but most of the sailors surrounding them remained silent. It was one thing to punish a man, but the cruelty of their quartermaster toward such a young child made them uneasy.

For his part, Seokjin was so terrified that he didn't even feel the humiliation of his position. He continued crying uncontrollably, wishing only to return to his mother. To safety.

"The sea is a dangerous place, it's not for little girls like you, do you understand now?!" the sailor shouted at him.

Seokjin wisely kept quiet, not correcting him by saying that he was a boy, and the son of Admiral Kim in addition. He was too afraid of being thrown into the sea; he would rather be seen as a girl if it spared him that fate.

He managed to nod frantically, unable to utter a word due to the lump that had formed in his throat and hiccups that strangled him.

"Quartermaster Siwoo, I think I saw this boy come to the base with the commander of the Taehwang, this morning," a sailor intervened.

"Yes, I saw him too, I believe it's his son," another added.

"Admiral Kim's son?" someone asked with, surprised.

Doubt overtook the quartermaster, who squinted as he observed Seokjin.

"This pissy, fish-smelling kid?" he repeated, pulling him away from the sea to bring the trembling child closer to his face.

Seokjin's face, despite the terror distorting it, was full of nobility, and his clothes were also of good make. He clearly wasn't just some ordinary stowaway. Then, the resemblance between Seokjin and Admiral Kim struck the quartermaster, who turned pale and immediately placed Seokjin back on the ship's deck, adjusting his crumpled shirt under his iron grip.

"Is it true that you are Admiral Kim's son?" he asked unnecessarily.

Seokjin, terrified by the man, merely nodded weakly, and a panicked murmur spread among the group of sailors. The quartermaster himself realized that he had made a mistake. He laughed nervously and placed his hand on Seokjin's head, causing the boy to flinch and curl up, closing his eyes, thinking the man was about to strike him.

"Don't be afraid, I was just messing with you earlier," the sailor said awkwardly. "I would never throw you overboard, come on! I hope that's not what you're going to tell your father, huh?"

Seokjin was sure that if he intended to tell his father what had happened, the man wouldn't let him go home; he'd throw him into the sea. So he frantically shook his head to signal that he wouldn't say anything.

Relieved, Siwoo smiled at him.

"Good boy! Now that's a sailor!"

But Seokjin knew he was not a sailor. Being on this ship, at sea, was a torment for him: he wanted to return to solid ground and never sail again. The quartermaster grabbed his hand roughly and pulled him along firmly without worrying about Seokjin's reluctance.

"Come on, I'll take you to the captain, and then we'll ask him to take you home."

This filled Seokjin with relief. The matter was quickly settled: captain Kim Seojun, who had already visited Seokjin's family in the past, immediately recognized the child and was as astonished to see him on his ship as he was furious at the state of shock he was in. He immediately ordered a course back to Eobu because bringing Seokjin home was a priority, even more so than bringing the executed sailor's body back to his family. 

Seeing him trembling, he gave him a blanket and made him comfortable in his cabin, but the boy kept shaking throughout the return journey, even if it was established that he was not sick. He even refused to eat anything offered to him.

Similarly, when Seokjin finally found the safety of solid ground, he continued to tremble, but refused to seek refuge in his relieved father's arms. Stunned, Admiral Kim, after warmly thanking the sailors of the Hwangsaechi for bringing his son back, asked what had happened.

Captain Seojun simply explained that Seokjin had witnessed a keelhauling execution and had been deeply shocked. Nothing was said about the quartermaster's actions. During this explanation, Seokjin inadvertently locked eyes with Siwoo, and his trembling intensified: he did not tell his father what had happened on board with Siwoo. In fact, he didn't say anything at all.

Beomseok hurried to take Seokjin home, deeply concerned about his son's condition, as Seokjin didn't answer any of his questions during the return journey. Seokjin kept his eyes resolutely shut, trembling nonstop, as if he were reliving what had just happened.

But things didn't get better once they were home. Upon arriving, Seokjin rushed into his mother's arms, fleeing from his father as if he were dangerous. After all, his father was a sailor: was he also a bad man who drowned men and boys in the sea? 

The thought of this fueled the fear in Seokjin's heart. He had waited in vain for his father to get angry with Captain Seojun when they have been talk of keelhauling, but his father had done nothing, as if he found it perfectly normal. He hadn't arrested the Hwangsaechi 's men or gotten angry with them and acted like he, Seokjin, was the problem. If he went to sea with him one day and didn't obey him, would he throw him to the Keelhauling monster under the Taewang?

His mother had nearly fainted when she had seen him return in that state, pale as death. Particularly worried by the fear in his eyes when he looked at his father, she had kept him away from him for some time after learning what had happened. She was angry at Beomseok for bringing their son back in such a state and made her feelings known with a loud :

"I told you he was too young!"

The admiral felt particularly guilty about what had happened and even though he too would have liked to take care of his son, he did not impose his presence on him and left his wife to take care of him exclusively. 

Despite the loving care his mother provided and the safety bubble in which she kept him, Seokjin remained mute for several days. He no longer smiled or talked about the sea with excitement. Soon, his parents began to fear he might never speak again.

But then, one evening, while his mother was gently combing his hair as she always did after his bath, singing him a song about forgotten princes of their land, Seokjin finally broke the silence:

"If I had been your princess instead of your prince, I wouldn't have had to be a sailor, right?"

Stunned by both the sound of his son's voice, which now seemed so unfamiliar, and by his astonishing words, Jinae didn't answer immediately. Seokjin then concluded:

"Then let's pretend that you never had a son and that I am your daughter," he said in a calm and resolute tone. "Like this, I will never become a sailor."