Blood of Roses

There was one three children that were the best of friends. They all livedin a village, where thorns of roses were considered sacred and dangerous weapons and their blood was as black as the night sky. The children had different dreams and personalities, it was hard to believe that they were never apart. Caleb, with his golden hair and eyes, was a mysterious boy. He was strong and protective of his village and friends. His mother was a tailor, and his father was a blacksmith that served the leader of the village. He trained many hours a day, perfecting his swordsmanship. William, with his sapphire eyes a nd chocolate hair, was the hot blooded one. Lazy at times, and yet you could've never find a more skillful worker. Both of his parents were merchants, experts in every trade. He was always swift, practicing his skills of an assassin. Isabell was the only girl, with her long red hair and forest eyes. She was a kind child, always looking after the two. Her father was a military leader, and her mother was a mercenary. Instead of fighting, she practiced in the arts of healing. The three were never apart, always smiling as if in a play. Caleb and William, however, had feelings for Isabell and did their best to impress her. It almost seemed like Isabell didn't love either of them, always hiding her feelings under a kind smile. When the boys turned thirteen, they both joined the Guards that protected their village. Isabell, a year younger than the two, had become one of the finest healers. They had reached their goals, and were as happy as can be. But four years later, the happiness faded and the tradegy began. A war had begun, with Caleb at the front lines and William in enemy territory. The day before he left, Caleb confessed his love to Isabell, who suprisingly felt the same. William, who had overheard the conversation, grew to hate Caleb. That night, he prated to the sacred Thorn Statue with his silver daggers at his side. "I'll give you everything and anything you want! Just let Caleb's life end!" He cried out to the statue. The vines that covered the statue slithered off, wrapping its thorny embrace around the knives as they were engraved into the metal, black with poison. He was blinded by hatred as he hid on the battle field the next day. There, he saw Caleb, fighting with all his might. William growled, drawing his knives as he threw them at his best friend, all of them soon painted with his black blood. He laughed in triumph as he watched Caleb pass away in the dark pool. But then, his own blood sprayed from his lips for a comrade had seen his deed and drove his blade through the traitor. The comrade quickly went back to the village, telling Isabell what had happened and leaving William there to suffer. "The daggers looked as if they were the Thorns of Hell." He told her. Her tears, for once in all of her lifetime, fell to the ground as she ran to the Statue, the vines left there as if nothing happened. Laying on the ground, she prayed," I'll give all of my being. Please, just bring Caleb home." At that moment, she felt everything fade away from her as she breathed her last with a smile. The daggers that had peirced Caleb had vanished as he groaned, sitting up with new found life in him. He was shocked. He had thought he had died. He looked around, seeing his pool of blood had turned into black petals, beautiful and deadly. He turned to see Williams' lifeless body, and understood that his best friend had been the one that took his life. He stood to his feet as the petals swayed in the wind when he heard Isabell's voice in his head. 'Welcome home, my love.' His eyes widened in fear as he ran back to the village, rushing to the Statue, praying that his fears weren't true. There, he found a lifeless Isabell, her body bounded by the Vines of Departure. He embraced her body tightly, hoping that this was all a bad dream and that he would wake up to her smiling face again. But he knew that in reality, she was gone. He took out his blade, which was stained by the blood of those from the war as he held the body of his loved one close. He peirced both of their bodies through the hart, the vines embracing him as death took him and their blood painted the thorns. No one knew what had happened. The villagers searched and searched, until their parents saw their dead children, embraced by eachother and the vines. The spilt blood that had decorated the thorns had bloomed into beautiful black roses. They say that even though their bodies vanished from their graves, the Three Best Friends could be seen together, playing happily in the Shrine of the Rose's Blood.