It smells sulfur, rum and tobacco. Like the mythical salamander, he resisted all fires. It is the rubedo. In his heart springs the reminiscences of ardent fights from which he emerged, not unscathed but fortified. All these trials ended up forging their key. The dark and tinted glasses are directed towards the past (on the left). And, while new torments remain to come, the cerulean eyes of the Corsair, matois, mock the fate.
