He was riding blind into the woods. He did not know the way nor could he make any of it in his rage. His heart was in unexplainable anguish and he only pulled the reins when it left him in the form of tears. He let out a deep breath, wiping them off with his sleeve, restraining his urge to just scream out, hoping at least the echoes could answer what he was to do now, where he was to go.

He took a breath, then another, his heart was heavy, heavier than it had ever been, tears again clouded his eyes, and he covered his face in irritation, whispering to himself, “What is wrong with me?”

But he knew the answer, for, it ran through his head the very next moment he had asked himself that question. Everything.

Taemin calmed himself, wiped those treacherous tears away and refused to think about it. About Jongin. About Minho. About everything.

He thought of what he had to do the immediate next. He had to ride out of the woods, he could not stay stranded on limited rations, nor be a sitting target for the dangers of the wilderness. He was about to take the reins of his horse again when he caught something from the corner of his eyes, something moving in the thickets surrounding him. He grew cautious, deciding to pretend he had not noticed, hoping he could get quickly on his way, away from whatever was lurking nearby. But before he could have acted, two men came out of the bushes, stepping into the moonlight to reveal their shabby, ripped cloaks, red kerchiefs concealing their faces. One was holding a short sword, a cut across his left closed eye. He was tall and hefty while the other was fairly slender, and was quicker on his feet, closing the distance, keeping an arrow aimed at Taemin.

“Stop, Ryu.” The one with the sword gestured to the other.

“Aye, Chief.” He stopped approaching and the Chief turned back to Taemin, “This can end nicely too, now can’t it? Us bandits are not entirely a brute lot.” He lowered his sword slightly and stepped closer, grabbing onto the reins Taemin had pulled in response to his steps in an attempt to escape. He laughed strenuously, his force restricting Taemin’s instruction to the horse, confusing it, unsettling its gait and sending Taemin to the ground.

Ryu grabbed the horse instead, throwing white dust onto its face and its unrest halted greatly, before it slowly dropped on the ground as well– awake but unmoving. Taemin covered the lower half of his face immediately, realizing the white dust to be a sedative used in taming and controlling wild beasts when they got violent.

In trying to protect himself from the dust in the air, Taemin had left himself vulnerable to the bandit’s sword and it was at his throat. Before he could rise, he felt arms restraining him. It was another bandit who had been lying in wait behind him.

“All we need is your ride, sweet boy,” The Chief continued, gesturing Ryu to claim the horse. Ryu put his bow and arrow away and immediately poured water over the horse, and slow movement returned to the beast’s body. He grabbed the reins and restrained it– much effort was not needed as the stallion was still under the influence of the dust quite a bit.

Watching the horse be secured as loot, the Chief turned to Taemin who was struggling fiercely against the hold of the other bandit, “Now what do you have?” He grabbed the hood of Taemin’s cloak and Taemin was about to kick him away, quickly deciding to put all his might in an attack and get enough leeway to free himself. He was waiting for the bandit to pull him up or grow closer, but the bandit fell before he could have acted, a dagger in his throat. Taemin was startled as he watched how the bandit fell and noiselessly writhed to death, but he snapped out of it, noticing the one who had been restraining him, loosen his hold, appalled by what had just happened. Taemin took advantage of it and tackled him, freeing himself, but the bandit disappeared by the time Taemin could turn and land a blow. He turned around, finding the archer gone as well, leaving his horse and satchels untouched. He turned back to the dead man at his feet, breathless from what had just transpired, his eyes settling on the dagger in his throat. Sapphire in the silver hilt. It was a dagger he had seen every day. At Minho’s belt. He crouched and pulled it out, wiping it on the dead man’s cloak. When he had risen again, he heard a horse stop behind him.

“The woods are dangerous.”

Taemin turned to the voice, eyes settling on the rider who dropped his hood, revealing it to be who Taemin had known right away from the voice. Minho.

“I can hold my own.” Taemin answered, throwing him his dagger, which Minho caught and sheathed.

Taemin began walking towards his own horse, softly its mane, ascertaining that it was fine. It had been a cheap imitation of the sedative since the counter was water and the effect of it had withdrawn within minutes. Taemin mounted his stallion and began to ride ahead without another word, but Minho joined his stride.

“I cannot let you traverse alone.”

“I can hold my own.” Taemin repeated.

“I cannot trust the words of the one who claims to be a beginner at swordsmanship.”

“Then where are your men?”

“Returning to the capital.”

“Why?”

“They are obeying the King as well.”

Taemin pursed his lips, agitated at Minho’s replies, at his presence. But… he was calmer, no longer feeling his heart stuck in his throat, that anguish strangling his heart. It was perhaps his nerves calming from the incident before, his mind still caught up in it.

Taemin stuck to that belief and did not linger on it more.

“I can hold my own.” He said again, riding past Minho, who clicked his tongue before speeding up as well.

They rode all night and day without a stop, halting only when dusk was approaching again. They decided to a rest a little distance away from the river and sat under opposite trees, leaning against them. Minho had started a fire and threw some incense into it, to keep rodents and insects away. As the day had progressed, Taemin had given up on brushing off Minho’s presence and no longer subtly hinted for him to stop following. Sleep was heavy upon his eyelids, but he was keeping himself awake, watching Minho build the fire.

When done, Minho shifted from his spot and sat beside Taemin instead, still maintaining distance. He took out his sapphire-hilted dagger and extended it to Taemin, “Keep it.”

“I do not need it.” Taemin answered softly, closing his eyes and shifting uncomfortably against the tree trunk.

“The least you will need to hold your own is a weapon.” Minho pressed, “This forest is ridden with bandits. Bandits that will not stop at just robbing you when they find out who you are.”

“I believe bandits do not care who a person is to rob them… and these woods are still Aeyan territory, not Yangon, so there is no question of me being in danger because I hail from Seyan.”

“True, the bandits do not care for their target’s origins.” Minho sighed, “But I have no jurisdiction over the woods despite it being my territory. The bandits do not hold enmity towards Seyan… or Aeyan specifically. But they do hold enmity towards Aeyan aristocracy– nobles, soldiers… especially royalty. Because my father had tried to cleanse these woods of them. It had started with having them arrested, rehabilitated, but they spread out instead and began raiding our towns and villages. He ordered a kill-on-sight order when their raids became violent. Many of the bandit leaders were killed because of that order and it led the bandits to restrain themselves to these woods again, but they have countlessly tried to wreak havoc on our carriages and troops which we pass through.” He repeated again, “They do not stop at robbing.”

“...that still does not explain why me–”

“The ring will give you away as...” Minho said, “As… Aeyan royalty. It would be for the best if you conceal it… or do away with it.”

Taemin’s eyes widened, his eyes falling on the ring on his left hand. His wedding ring. He had never glanced upon it with care and now that he did, he could see it… the royal Aeyan emblem carved into the gold, the spaces of it embedded with emeralds.

His eyes trailed to Minho’s hands, he wore silver rings in both his thumbs, carrying Aeyan emblems as well but in different patterns, a huge sapphire embedded silver ring with the Aeyan emblem on his right middle finger that was the sign of him being the King. The aberrance in them was only the delicate gold emerald ring on his left hand. His eyes trailed to the dagger that Minho had left in the space between them. Silver and sapphire hilted.

And... a question lingered in his mind… but he kept it unasked.

Instead, he said, “I will not need to. I won’t be robb