Jung Min was cemented where he stood. He was perplexed. The absurdity of what he heard was ringing and banging in his ears, like cymbals played by a child. Intentional! Innocent yet annoying. "Your father? Who is your father?"

There. Before Shun could answer, the poor nangdo screamed in pain again, "Please help me!" Mood spoiler. The height of emotions drastically plunged down into the ground.

"You should bring him to the infirmary. Have him checked," ordered Sae Joo.

"Where is your hwarangdo?" yelled Jung Min. "Call him, now!"

Two nangdos flew outside, scared of the meddler (as if he was the real leader of the hwarangs, a bitter fruit, perhaps. Oh, yes! He was the Prosecution Head, though.). Jun Pyeong arrived after a few minutes, all sweaty.

"Where have you been? There was an accident," Jung Min scolded.

Jun Pyeong bowed at Sae Joo and explained, "Your Highness, please forgive me. I went outside to get some wood. What happened here?"

"It's fine. I'll explain to you later. It's more important to address Su Jong's problem. Lend them your horse. He needs to be taken to the Hwarang Infirmary right away."

The nangdos carried their colleague, so careful as if it was a sacred thing lying in their arms. A four-man carry. No more words came out from the poor nangdo; the pain had silenced his mouth and pulled his tongue. All he had were shallow breaths and sweats.

Shun was catatonic in his seat. Negative thoughts bulldozing his head. Eyelids taped open. Jung Min wanted to resume the questioning, but then he realized that at the current state of the assailant, no fresh fish could be caught.

"We're taking this," informed Jung Min. Shun's eyes bulged out. He wished to object, but he was powerless. "You'll get this in time. Worry not."

"Stay here, for now, Shun. I will summon you once I have my decision," added Sae Joo.

"I shall leave, Your Highness. I still have some errands to do. I trust that you'll be objective in this matter. By the book, like you always do." Jung Min smiled, bowed his head, and left.

~~•~~

Distressed by random thoughts in his head and patches of memories from one of the biggest nightmares of his life, Jung Min jetted straight to the Royal Library to investigate. Since Shun could not answer his question (well, he could; this nobleman just did not want to sound suspicious), he had to solve the mystery on his own. The moment the boy said the headband belongs to his father, that already sparked doubts. He went through each section of all the bookshelves. Meticulously rummaging for information, focusing more on the symbol of the insignia.

He found a dusty brown book titled, 'Records of the Silla Hwarang.' Very thick book and very heavy, placed on the last shelve of the War Section. He carried it to the table and scanned the pages, the dust flying through his nose, which made him sneeze from time to time.

Page five hundred two, year 793. The complex webbed organizational chart of the hwarangs. No portraits, just their names. On top of it was Gukseon Chil Yook. He moved the pages randomly until he ran through the chapter about the Hwarang Uniform accidentally. Pure drawings and descriptions of all the garments depending on the position, with side explanations and symbolism.

Based on the descriptions of the book, the headband was a close representation of what a Gukseon wears. Red headband with a falcon insignia. Only one per Grand Marshal. If someone lost it, it could be deemed as negligence, and punishments might be severe. Death, resignation, or dismissal: three possible ways to get rid of it. Considering those conditions, being exiled could be a factor as well (it might be interpreted under dismissal). Jung Min clearly remembered that moment—when Chil Yook pleaded to Jae Joong to take the headband with him. It was the Prime Minister's influence and convincing power that made that happen. After all, what harm could a man in exile do? Strange? Exactly Jung Min's thoughts. Why did his father let that happen?

Clues were starting to vomit in front of him. What he needed was a solid confirmation. A witness who could confirm or debunk all his hypotheses.

"I remember it. Yes, it was the Gukseon. The trial... yes, the trial." he inspected the headband again, thoroughly examining the details. "So this headband could possibly be owned by a Gukseon? If that's the case, how could a Gukseon have a son? They're all castrated... There's something really going on."

He paced around the room, mumbling his random thoughts. Puzzle pieces of the past which he needed to recover. "Gukseon Chil Yook, year 793, public trial in the East Market square. The portraits of all notable hwarangs could be found at the Hwarang Shrine, but his photo was not there."

"His crime must be that serious."

"Now who could help me? I need someone who could tell me the entire story, most especially... confirm this headband."

He suddenly stopped walking, leaning his hands on a table. His face brightened, his eyes and lips smiled from ear to ear. Ding ding ding! An idea surely crossed his mind.

~~•~~

Although Sae Joo had been a Hwarang leader for eight years, his term had been, let's say, plain and silent. If the conceptual line broke, it would be close to 'boring'. No major events so far. No wars, no threats from neighboring kingdoms, no movements from rebel groups. Just minor ruckus perhaps, like thieves, drunk men harassing women, grumpy, mentally-unstable people who roared at the top of their voice boxes just because they were not given proper discounts. Fiddling things to be exact (in a Hwarang's point of view. Good Heavens, for the common folk, it could be a nightmare!). The hwarangdos and the nangdos had solved those little issues even without channeling to him.

He was still a seedling, not ready to get exposed into the uproot world. For him, eight years was just like a day or so in terms of understanding the gist and the core of being a Hwarang leader. Yes, a part of the success of the Dokdo Island Project was credited for him, but that ended there. He did not consider himself as a good ruler. Formula wise—a little self-condemnation plus a handful of doubts and hesitation equaled Sae Joo.

He felt like he was just a spokesperson most of the time, instead of an actual leader. Few hwarang assemblages here, Hwarang competitions there. Speeches, speeches, speeches. Arts was still the only skill he thought that he had applied for years. No contribution to newer fighting techniques or whatsoever. What would he teach? Use your swords, lift your heads, sway your arms, and pirouette into the air? A sword dance? No! Let the Gukseon handle that, or the Hwarangdos, at least. He just constantly reminded everyone about what they should and should not do (based on the golden pillars. Jung Min was right: by the book!).

There has never been a serious incident like Shun's before. Even if they have had, those were forgotten easily. Petty, minor, normative. Like one time, two groups of hwarang clans clashed with each other because allegedly one party destroyed the flag of the other. There was a physical altercation right inside the Hwarang Training Grounds. The disrespect! Punches, kicks, bruises, and bleeding lips and noses. Very hilarious. They were suspended; then eventually those two clans became inseparable, like conjoined twins.

However, something was terrifying in what Shun did. His glare. Full of remorse as if he was intended to kill that fellow if they were the only people inside the barracks. Considering that Shun had a special room in his heart, Sae Joo found himself in a very difficult position. (By the book, huh?)

To make things as legitimate as possible, Sae Joo dropped by Dae Wong's office and consulted his concern. It would not hurt his pride to ask questions about affairs he was not sure about. Better to ask questions when in doubt.

"Your Highness, in what do I owe this honor?" welcomed Dae Wong, folding a brown book he was reading.

"Minister Dae Wong, do you have a minute?"

"Sure, Your Highness. Please have a seat."

"We have a problem. A nangdo was hurt because of Shun."

"What? Why? How?"

"Well, it was because of a headband. Shun has told me before that this headband belongs to his father. Knowing him, I suppose it's of high sentimental value. I didn't know what exactly happened, but I think this nangdo teased him and playfully steals the headband. Shun got angry and attacked him."

Dae Wong was listening, but as Sae Joo proceeded with his story, the other universe in Dae Wong's head started recapturing other memories: Chil Yook had mentioned before that his headband was missing, and he thought that maybe Jung Ho had it. But he was wrong. Rest case, problem solved... or not? Maybe a graver situation could arise because of what had happened.

"So, what happened to this nangdo? How bad is his condition?"

"I've been to the infirmary a while ago. It was pretty serious: dislocated bones. Good thing, there are no fractures." Sae Joo closed his eyes and heaved a heavy breath.

"Shun was tough yet gentle. A good combination of contrasting personalities. Your Highness, do you know what drives both of them? Being hard and at the same time being soft?"

"What are you talking about, Lord Dae Wong?"

"It's love, Your Highness. A polarity of emotions. He could be gentle, caring, and sometimes even funny for the people he loves. I've seen it a lot of times when he's with you. He might not be as expressive as you are when it comes to your friendship, but his actions scream the loudest. You are one of the people he loves. Same thing with being tough. You've said that the headband belongs to his father. We both know that Shun's world revolves around his father. I know what he did was wrong, but I see it as an action out of love. I wouldn't be surprised if one day, he would take a poison arrow just to save Muhyuk-ahjussi."

"I am well aware of that, Minister. I just don't know what to do with him. I know he needs to be reprimanded but..."

"Your Highness, sometimes we do things that we don't want to, things that we can't control because of love. We keep secrets to protect something, to protect someone. It's a powerful, mind-boggling emotion that could penetrate and break walls. Walls of values, walls of reality, walls of morality, separating good and evil. Love is essential, yet fatal. Shun did that to protect his father's memories."

Sae Joo was half-amazed, half-confused with Dae Wong's advice. The minister continued to help the Prince uncover something hidden within him. "Here, for you to understand better. Imagine placing a plank of wood on the tip of a pyramid, what do you think happens?"

Strange as the question was, Sae Joo still answered, "It falls."

"Which side? Left or right?"

"Uh, I don't know it depends if its inclined more to the left or to the right."

"Exactly. That's how love works. At some point, love reaches a level of instability. An inevitable climax. Depending on your driving force, you could go either both sides. Should you go left or should you go right? Should you do bad or should you do good? You said you love Shun, you care for him as a friend. Where does that emotion go? Are you falling on the left side or the right?"

Sae Joo took some time to absorb what Dae Wong wanted to convey. He then smiled, upon getting the message. "I think I know what to do."

"I trust you, Your Highness. Even without my help, I know you'll figure it out on your own."

"That's so kind of you, Lord Dae Wong. I shall go." Sae Joo stood, and Dae Wong followed. The minister bowed his head and walked the Prince to the door. When he had left, Dae Wong rushed to his table, prepared the quills, unrolled a blank scroll, and started writing.

~~•~~

Sae Joo went to his chambers and wrote an official statement about the incident. Sealed! He personally went to the barracks and talked to Jun Pyeong. When he arrived, the other nangdos were busy preparing lunch. Chopping wood, slicing meat and vegetables, setting up the table, cleaning the utensils. They all stopped upon seeing Sae Joo.

"Your Highness," said Jun Pyeong.

"Where is Shun?"

"He is inside, lying on his bed."

"Call him."

Jun Pyeong commanded some nangdos to call Shun but they were scared, pointing at each other.

"Never mind. I'll go in."

The hwarangdo followed as Sae Joo entered the barracks. He saw the boy on his bed, rolled like a baby. Very tame. Poor him. At the Prince's first step, Shun immediately rose and stood. His eyes were red as a rose, swollen. An obvious difference from what they had been a couple of hours ago. He bowed his head... so slowly. "Your Highness." voice weak and hoarse.

"Shun of Yellow Tigers, pack your things. You're going home. You are suspended until further notice."

Somehow, Shun had expected it. Maybe even worse. His restless, paranoid brain was too over dominating, sucking out all his energy. There was a short feeling of relief, though. At least, he was not expelled. He could still come back... someday.

"I respect your decision, Your Highness. Thank you. May I ask a question?"

"What is it?" cold tone as it was for Sae Joo. (but deep inside, it was hurtful)

"How is he? Is Su Jong alright?

"He's fine... so far."

"Can I see him?"

"It will probably be best if you don't. Save your apology for now."

"I understand, Your Highness. I am terribly sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. I am not the one who was hurt."

"I know what I did was wrong. I wish I didn't do it. I was clouded by my emotions."

Sae Joo didn't respond, staring at Shun with his icy eyes. An unreal facade of what was truly inside. As a true friend, he knew that it was the right thing to do. The best for all of them. Giving Shun the time to rethink and reassess himself was the best gift Sae Joo could give even if it looked like a punishment. A great reward dressed like a sanction.

Shun packed his things and sent Sae Joo his last bow before leaving. His head was down as if a dark, purple chakra surrounded his entire body. He went outside and bowed to his colleagues, then walked away. Silence. A moment of peace for all of them. Small chance to recheck themselves.

~~•~~

Six hours had passed, and it was almost night time. While doing some of his daily paper works in his office, a visitor interrupted Jung Min. A Red Dragon hwarang. Small man, middle-aged, average body.

"Any updates?"

"Yes, My Lord. I've found what you're looking for."

"Great. Let's go."

Wearing a red-hooded cloak, Jung Min traveled outside the palace with his own personal palanquin. Another four hours jumped out of the world's timeline. In the province of Sangju, west of Seorabeol, in a folk village away from the capital, the palanquin stopped. Jung Min descended, guided by the hwarang and some guard escorts with their blazing torches and lamps.

The village consisted of few houses only, and everything was deep woods. The sound of different insects was the main instrument, extremely rampant. Loud and competitive. For the villagers, it was their night music, giving them the knowledge of time.

They walked a few yards until they had reached a small house, the smallest one and the simplest one. It only had one window and a small door. One could say that only one to two people lived inside.

"Hello, anybody?" the hwarang called.

The door opened, revealing an old woman who could hardly see. "Yes, what can I do for you?" she squinted her eyes and recognized a familiar face. Someone whom she had missed for years. She gasped in excitement, "L-lo-lord Jung Min?"

"Yes."

"I can't believe it. Is that really you? You are so handsome."

"I am glad that you could still recognize me. How have you been... Lady Min?"

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