Battlefield of Rose's

He stood before her. Battered and bloody, emanating the sorrow of his lost comrades. He looked upon her angelic face, so small so frail. Her skin dirtied with soot and dust. Her hair was pale, blowing softly in the aftermath of battle. Her small frame reached toward his dingy armor, complexity in her piercing eyes. She offers him a small token, for her life. A heart shaped locket. Her frail arm stretched out to him, the locket nestled in her palm. He hesitated at first, finally reaching out to accept her small token. A faint smile crossed her face as she began to collapse in the dust and dirt.

He caught her within his arms, tucking her closely against his armor.

"Let's take her home." He hid the painful sorrow that shook his voice.

A small trembling voice whispered to the warrior,

"You destroyed my home."

A small tear fell from her eyes, then he knew the devastating truth behind her gesture. The locket was not a token for him but a plead to let her live. However, He didnt have time to respond or beg for forgiveness before the battle was beginning again.

New troops from the other side were appearing ready for death, with the stench of blood on them; the odds looked grim to say the least. The warrior instructed his men to hide the child before the fighting begun. They found a place, beautifully untouched by war. A garden of blood roses stretching out endlessly.

Different shades of velvet red painted delicately on each supple petal. The delicate petals clinged desperately to one another, causing soft ripples and folds spiraling to its middle. Underneath light green leaves can be seen hidden, almost as if it was holding the weight of the petals beauty on it's own with utter contentment. Its stem thorny beneath it. Sturdy and solid, however, fierce and daring. A single touch would result in a fiery of pain.Yet it defends the petals with it's very existence. Further down dark green leaves wave aimlessly in the cool breeze of spring. Stretching as far as the stem will allow, reaching every bit of precious sun they can. Their rigid demeanor only complementing the velvet like petals. The stem begins to vine more intensely, twisting itself endlessly in vapid thorny coils until it is impossible to see the roots. A shield of spikes weaving together for the ultimate defense. This would be her resting place, or possibly even her grave. The knights laid her down softly. Her small frame couldnt be seen underneath the shield of weaved spikes. Her eyes fluttered as they hid her beneath the shield of thorns.

"Will this be enough" said the younger warrior, with worry in his voice.

"It has to be for now, we will come back for her. If we can." The warrior stroked her angelic face. He allowed a tear to be shed for this child, for all the children that were caught in the middle of this damned war.

The warriors left, with heavy hearts. It was time to end this. Once and for all.

8 years later

The young woman stood atop the hill that over looked an old battle field. She had heard stories of this war, but she also had vague memories of it as well. Although, people told her they were just bad dreams. She was too young to remember it all, but this field of battle called to her. It beckoned her forward with intensity. She walked down the hill to the battle field in a trace like state. The further she went in, the more she realized how much the thorny blood Rose's took over everything. A silver peaked through the endless green thicket of sharp thorns and scattered blood Rose's. A dim shine, however, still easily spotted, hiding under the climbing vines. With pure curiosity, she unleashing the veining thorns, unveiling the damaged armor. Its silver was blinded by the dirty blotches of old blood and smeared mud. This, once great battle armor, cast away hallow within itself. Nature had consumed any trace of the living being that may have resided within this bleak piece of history. A hole within the plates revealed the death of its wearer. A spear or perhaps a cannon shell had penetrated its resistance easily and without warning. Where the piece lay is unknow but its presents was still felt with every curved piece of shattered metal cascading from its breast. Here lies a fallen warrior, but why does this seem so familiar to her? Before she could answer her own question another glimmer appeared. It caught the suns Ray's just well enough to catch her attention. In the hand of this fallen warrior was a heart shaped locket. The hand gripped it intensely even after death, as if it was the warriors only motive for staying alive. She reached for the locket prying it out of the hand. She ran her thumb over it a few times, then with a click opened it.

Memories came flooding back, salty tears bitter and sweet rolled down her cheeks. Inside the heart shaped locket was a picture. Of a woman, man, and small child. This was her family, the family that was brutally taken away from her. This warrior, this shell of armor, it belonged to the man that destroyed her village and took away everything she loved. However, this was also the man that saved her, hid her, and ultimately died protecting her. She remembered something else too. She remembered the last time she saw his face, he stood before her, sheding a tear of sorrow and longing. Her heart seemed to sink in her chest. This is when she knew three truths;

The first and the cruelest of conclusions; despite our impermanence in this world our legacy's will eventually be consumed by the nature of things, shrouded in darkness corrupted by our egotism and pride. With the truth lost somewhere in history. A bleak reminder that nothing is forever.

The second truth, No matter how well your defense may be, or how righteous your cause may be; regardless of your own violations, you will be cut down, harvested easily; once the world sees war it will never give you a chance to live peacefully.

Lastly, If this is humanity in its unwavering passion, then we are doomed.