Blackwood Manor
November 15th, 1806
Corin’s 17th Birthday
“Mind your fingers, dear.” Marie, Corin’s mother, said as she helped Sebastian place an assortment of macarons atop the hearth.
The three of them had spent all afternoon baking treats for Corin’s seventeenth year celebration. This year was going to be slightly different. Although the Blackwoods typically celebrated Corin’s birth with large masses of food and drink in the chilly comfort of the outdoors, this year, the weather had crashed their usual garden party. Outside, the grounds of Blackwood Manor had been covered in a thin sheet of snow, and their small pond down the center courtyard had frozen over entirely.
So, they decided to pile their grand salon high with all sorts of international provisions and sweets. In early years, Corin became fascinated by the foreign lands scattered across his father’s desk and the remote locations mounted on the walls of his study. He would watch his father chart trade routes and build world maps from scratch for hours on end. Eventually, a blank map sheet was bestowed upon Corin, initiating his independent voyage into mapcraft.
As a child, he would sketch maps for the garden, listing every creature’s habitat as a new land and marking their travels across the ‘kingdoms’. As he grew older, his father began showing him the in’s and out’s of their trade business and how to map trade routes efficiently.
This year’s present was a testimony to Corin’s cartographical prowess. Corin and his father spent hours building a world map of sufficient demension to cover the floor of the grand salon. Over the months, his father imported rare and unheard of delicacies hailing from each realm etched upon their chart. For his birthday this year, Corin would get to taste the world.
“Come, dears, the salon is almost set with provisions. Let us allow Pierre to finish his work in peace.” Marie said, ushering her boys out of the kitchens and toward the grand salon.
The three of them swung open the doors to see a large map covering the wood floors underneath, and foods piled high on trays in each of the locations marked along a winding red ink trail. Sebastian squealed with delight and ran over to the first country on the food tour, France.
“Look, mama, our manor is first!” Sebastian said, using his finger to liberate the cream atop a lemon cake that sat upon the outskirts of Paris.
“Don’t touch, Sebastian. We must wait for your father. Sit.” She said, pulling the cushions on the side for the boys to sit on as they stared at the food in front of them.
“I think Pierre’s outdone himself this year.” Corin said, smiling excitedly at the array of treats. “I’ve never seen such an assortment.” He slowly reached toward the lemon cream as well only to have his hand swatted away by his mother.
“It was not Pierre, but your father, that arranged this. Be sure to thank him once he arrives.” Marie gave a stern stare and sat next to the boys just as the grand salon doors swung open. Seung-Jae walked in looking more disheveled than usual. A peculiar restlessness briefly clouded his demeanor, yet he promptly dispelled it upon entering and witnessing his sons’ smiles.
“Appa!” Sebastian cried, bounding into his father’s embrace. Seung-Jae laughed, twirling him in joyful circles.
“Now this is a celebration indeed!” Seung-Jae gestured to the trays. “Why are we not eating? Come!” Seung-Jae sat Sebastian back on his cushion and joined his wife on the floor.
“Why is it arranged in this pattern though, Appa?” Corin asked, his gaze drifting to the lines that traversed each country upon the map.
“This delineates our trade route,” Seung-Jae began. “Your present spans beyond mere confections, Corin. One day, you will govern these routes and all of the goods that pass through them. However, testing your product is one of the benefits of trade.” Seung-Jae smirked as he, too, extracted cream from the lemon cake. Marie chided her husband’s manners, yet found herself unable to suppress a smile at the likenesses her sons shared to him.
“Yes, decades from now maybe…” Corin rolled his eyes as he began to tuck into the treats laid out in the French section. The notion of assuming command over such an extensive enterprise appeared not only daunting, but highly unlikely, as his father was more than particular about how the business was run.
A look of pained irritation crossed Seung-Jae’s face only briefly. Long enough, however, for his wife to glean there was news he was not sharing.
“Boys, why don’t we finish these treats later? I should think you’d like to play in the snow before the sun sets. Run along.” Marie said, her eyes fixed on her husband’s dark expression.
Corin parted his lips to protest, but his mother quickly pushed both him and Sebastian toward the doors without another word. Confused, and somewhat irked by the fact he had been denied his birthday wish, Corin clasped his brother’s hand and guided him to the rear entrance. He gently moved his brother’s arms into a small woolen coat and fastened a scarf around his neck.
“Mittens.” Corin stated, holding the glove slightly ajar for Sebastian to slide his hands into. Sebastian grumbled as he worked his hands into the gloves.
“You know I hate the mittens, Rinny.” Sebastian mumbled as he tugged at the neck of his scarf.
“And you’ll detest frostbite more so, dear brother.” Corin chuckled as he donned his own coat and helped Sebastian down to the garden.
A pristine layer of snow lay untouched, reflecting the gentle sunlight in a shimmering expanse of white.
“Let’s build a snowman!” Sebastian ran into the snow nearly toppling head first into a peony plant as his feet pulled behind him.
Corin and Sebastian quickly rolled large mounds of snow, Corin stacking them neatly atop one another. The snow figure bore an uncanny resemblance to their failed attempt at cake the year prior, slightly too mushy, and leaning to one side. Yet, the brothers could scarce suppress their laughter as they adorned the lopsided creation with a medley of stones and twigs, crafting its rudimentary features.
“He’s perfect.” Corin said, standing back to admire their work.
“She needs a flower.” Sebastian said, rummaging through the bare flower bushes looking for a stray petal or dying bud. He perched a minuscule, withering leaf atop the snowwomans head and smiled. “Now she’s perfect.” He giggled and bounced around at the sight of their work.
Corin clasped his younger sibling in an affectionate embrace before lowering himself onto the snow-covered ground. Sebastian emitted a delighted squeal, squirming as the cold embraced him, yet Corin held him steadfast.
“Hold on!” Corin said exasperatedly as he pulled a small box from his pocket. “I want to show you something.” Corin slowly slid the box apart and pulled out a singular matchstick.
“The fire!” Sebastian said, suddenly scooting in even closer to get a better view.
“You wanted to learn how to light your candles all on your own, so what better place than in a field surrounded by snow? Nothing for you to catch on fire.” Corin laughed, striking the match against the box. A small flame slowly emerged with a hiss and Corin handed it to Sebastian who watched it with awe.
Corin had always carried a small box of matches in his pocket. A strange habit he had picked up from his father who was a habitual smoker.
Around the age of 10, when he went off to school, Corin’s father gifted the small matchbox alongside his cartographic compass, symbolizing a means to “illuminate the dark and chart your own course,” as he his father said. An old compilation of Korean sayings Corin barely took heed too. Instead, Corin often fiddled with the box when he was nervous, something to anchor his mind when it threatened to roam elsewhere. This ritual appeared to soothe Sebastian as well.
As an infant, Sebastian would cry for hours on end. The only thing that seemed to lull him was the gentle crackle of a flame. Corin would often light a candle and watch over Sebastian until he fell back asleep. Sebastian was never allowed to play with the matches, of course, but that didn’t stop Corin from showing off or allowing him to light his own candles in private.
“Give it a try. Six years is nearly old enough to try your hand at it.” Corin said as he tossed the lit match into the snow and passed the box to Sebastian.
Sebastian tried over and over to no avail and slumped back into the snow, defeated.
“You’ll get there one day. Appa will give you your own box with your name on it and everything.” Corin said, tracing the engraving on the front of the box.
Corin lit one final match and smiled over at his brother who laid on his side, staring at Corin.
“Time for my birthday wish, Seb.” Corin stared at the match, wondering if his wish should always be the same.
“Let me make your wish, Rinny!” Sebastian pleaded, tugging at Corin’s coat sleeve. Corin smiled, lovingly extending the match to Sebastian.
“Make it worthy then.” Corin encouraged, his gaze fixed upon Sebastian’s contemplative visage, seeking a glimpse of the wish that lay within those pensive thoughts.
Sebastian blew the match out and scooted into the crook of Corin’s arm, smiling brightly.
“Well?” Corin asked, raising a brow, “What did you wish for?” He asked.
Sebastian tugged Corin’s ear down lower, using his hand to shield his voice from the world as if he was telling an important secret.
“I wished for you to always be happy on your birthday…” Sebastian said, giggling as he spoke.
“With you here? Always.” Corin replied, a grin adorning his face as he pulled his brother closer.