Wrongly in Love

1- Exile

"I'll continue my fighting skills. I'll prove myself in my own way, and not because of some old, foolish tradition."
"You dare choose your daggers over your own family! Gusion, I'm warning you: Surrender your weapons... or be exiled from this family."
"Throw me out of this family then! I'm so sick of trying to follow some old prejudice. Sick and tired of being the good boy in the family following an old rule. Unlike you, I have absolutely no problem with it. So let me be."

Voices rung in Gusion's ears as he struggles to get on his feet. He was exile from his family, he reminded himself, and he will never see them again. As he rests underneath a pine tree, his stomach aches with hunger and his throat dries of thirst. Gusion sighed. You're free, he chided himself, You're an adult now. You can live your life without someone trying to control it.

Yeah right, a voice in his head whispered. You should've thought better, Gusion. You're arrogant, idiotic, and thought of nothing but your stupid daggers.

I can control myself! Gusion fought. These daggers saved my life! I'm better than getting stuck in an old prejudice! I have freedom!

Because having an empty stomach and so -called "freedom" always works out well, the voice said.

Gusion quashed it.
"Perhaps I am foolish?" He questioned himself. "Perhaps I have a chance to go back? Maybe that is my destiny?"

As he searched for a river to quench his thirst (and have a bath perhaps so), doubts filled his head. You have done the right decision, No! You have been foolish! He stooped down the nearby river and drunk brackish water. There, at the river's surface, was Gusion's handsome reflection, clouded with doubt and loneliness. He thought of the day of his exile. He thought of the day he fought the foolish man who challenged him. He thought of his old girlfriend, Lesley (he quickly tried to think of someone else).

Then he thought of his daggers.
His daggers, straight, fine, and true. He stared at the dagger in his hand. It reflected the sunlight. It looked oddly majestic and magnificent, as if it looked like the greatest weapon any person had dreamed of.

Gusion toyed the dagger. It glowed with a bluish light, as if he was born for his daggers. Like a soulmate. Like Les- No. His one true love was his weapon now. Lesley was from his past.

Gathering confidence, he stood and puffed his chest, and practiced his duelling skills. It was a marvellous sight, with him going to every direction in lightning-fast speed. His daggers followed his directions, as if it listened to his thoughts rather than his words.
Gusion grinned.

He was born for his daggers.
He was born to be exile.
Gusion was born to be Gusion, after all.