Wrongly in Love

13- Two Surprises

Gusion was wondering why he had fallen so deep into a bush.

Two minutes ago, he had been busy relaxing, throwing rocks and resting while the Leonins and Elves were busy fighting and fending for themselves. And because of his foolishness, he had been pulled into a bush by a gang of bloodthirsty hoods.

He'd be dead meat for sure.

And I'll never get to see Guinevere again, he thought with a sickening feeling in his stomach. Gusion braced for the impact, surely he would be executed with a swoosh of a sword. Or be fed to demons. Or be brought to the Fire Kingdom and get burned by a nasty dragon.

Yet there was no move.
No sound.
The bush was as quiet as a ghost.

"Gusion." A hiss issued from inside the bush.

Gusion blinked. It had been a female's.
How odd.

"Who's there!" Gusion said shakily, pointing a dagger into darkness. He thought he felt something hard, yet it could've been a huge rock or a tree trunk.

"Gusion." The voice said again. Could it have been Guinevere? Impossible. Guinevere was out there.

A light flickered on and Lesley came into view.

"Oh damn, put away that dagger! It nearly cut off my left knee!" Lesley shrieked.

"Lesley!" Gusion exclaimed in surprise. "What am I doing here? Why did you bring me here!"

Lesley jumped a little, slightly pink. "I want to discuss about something." She said rather hurriedly. "About us. How we ended."

"We ended. That's all you need to know. What do you need to ask for?" Gusion said coolly. He didn't have feelings for Lesley anymore, that was for sure. "People are injured, hoods are aiming to kill, and now you've invited me to a cozy private date in a big muddy hole- covered in bushes?"

"Yes, but do you remember how?" Lesley pressed impatiently, in the air of trying to teach a toddler about the letters of the alphabet. She did not answer the last part. "Do you?"

"I left." Gusion replied. "So?"

"You only left me, but we never actually ended it." Lesley said, as though explaining the obvious.

Gusion gaped, knowing this was true. Still, he wouldn't be in another of Lesley's games.

"If I haven't ended it, I'm ending it now," Gusion said calmly. "It's over now, Lesley. Forget about the past and move forward."

Lesley tried to stare into Gusion's eyes, but all she found was an empty, emotionless soul. Blinking back tears, she tried again. "You said you'd come back for me," she reminded him angrily. "Then you kissed me on the cheek and you packed your bags because you were kicked out by the Paxley house."

"Yes, I know." Gusion said wearily. "But Lesley, I'm being honest right now. I don't love you anymore."

I don't love you anymore. Lesley tried to shake off the feeling, but she just couldn't help feeling rejected and heartbroken.

"You don't really understand my feelings for you, do you, Gusion Paxley?" Lesley asked, her throat bobbing. She looked desperate to burst out all she had to say.

Gusion chose not to answer, choosing instead to stare at the puddle of mud beneath them.

Suddenly Lesley couldn't take it anymore. How could he not understand? She loved him, and only him! "Gusion Paxley, I love you!" She screamed in frustration. "I love you, even though it took so many years for you to realize! If only you could love me back... but no, you don't. So I'm saying it right now. Now sue me."

Gusion looked at her in pity. He wanted to be honest with her, yet he couldn't find the right words to say to her.

"Lesley," he said, "I love Guinevere."

And Gusion knew it was true. It was the feeling his heart had been bursting to say all along. It was the feeling inside it. The feeling he felt when she was with him. Because even though she wasn't a skilled assassin and fierce beauty queen  like the girl in front of him, he still loved Guinevere and appreciated her for being... Guinevere.

Lesley looked as though she was going to cry. "I know," she said sadly. "I know I'll never have you."

Gusion smiled sadly- and heard a scream. He jumped to his feet at once. "Oh damn, someone's hurt out there!" He readied his dagger. "I'll have to go. Glad we had this nice little chat, Lesley."

"But Gusion! Wait!"

But Gusion was already charging from the bush. Heartbroken and disappointed, Lesley climbed down the hole, where she had found a secret passageway (which apparently, she had heard from a passing elf whispering to his friend). It was sad that Gusion would never love her, but maybe one day she would find someone worthier of her.

"Oh Gwen- GUINEVERE!" Gusion shouted. "Guinevere! Guinevere!"

He saw a passing elf who was busy carrying healing potions and creams. "Hey!" Gusion said, startling the elf. "Have you seen Guinevere? Guinevere Baroque? The Miss Violet you see in newspapers- oh damn, you don't read newspapers?!" He asked the elf in disbelief, who shook his head. "Fine- the Guinevere I had a meal with under those little fairy lights!"

The elf beamed brightly, and as he reclined his head, Gusion realized this was one of the elves who had so kindly served them dinner under Harith's orders. "I saw her go that direction, sir!" The elf pointed enthusiastically to a clearing full of injured Leonins.

"Well, thanks for your help!" Gusion started to rush in that direction as the elf ran away, but suddenly, a sudden explosion engulfed him in a cloud of smoke. Coughing, and eyes squinting, Gusion tried to see past the smoke, but it was impossible. Wheezing, he collapsed on the soft green grass until a march of footsteps stopped him short.

Klunk. Klunk. Klunk. Went the sound of the bulky armour.

Gusion looked terrified for once, knowing he was going to die.

And so he was. No less than seven hoods cornered Gusion, faces triumphant and swords aimed to kill. Gusion reaches out for his daggers, but it was no use. He couldn't fight them all.

"The exile cornered," one of the hoods smiled gleefully. "A ten-thousand price- that's a generous reward!"

His companions hooted, and as they grabbed Gusion's arms, they chanted, "Death to the Cowardly Exile!"

"Death to the Cowardly exile!" The hoods mocked.

"Death to the cowardly exile," rang out an unfamiliar voice. The hoods turned around to see who it was.

It was a young man. He had dark hair dusted with gray, and his face had a huge scar. He held a baroque violin and a gun, and his eyes glinted with mischief.

The hoods didn't recognise him, but Gusion did.

"The Death Chanter," Gusion said, deathly pale.