Wilting Roses pt. 1Back when I was a child I knew a girl, a girl named Karen; she and I were childhood friends and I knew her ever since I could remember. I was the son of a knight who served his highness and she was the daughter of blacksmith we both shared interest in swordsmanship and in that way, we both met. I was but a sprout, wielding a wooden sword, because my father thought I had much more to learn before I could yet hold an iron blade. From the garden that adorned the property behind my father's home, is where she came to me; the girl with crimson hair and emerald eyes such a deep green that they would make even the forests of Ireland shake in envy. She was unlike any other girl I had seen in our village, and if I had seen any of the likes of her, I would certainly remember. Not only that, but she carried in her hands something that caught my eye; a glimmering steel blade that shone brilliantly in the mid-morning's sun.
I approached her, but truthfully, I wasn't sure what to b