Red roses

The story

They met in a valley. A valley of white roses. White roses about to be stained red. The armies of the north came from the west, the southern armies, the east. They both stood there. The morning sun glinting off of their steel armor. They stood, they stood till the sun was high in the sky. At that moment, everything was still. All the men could hear the grass blowing. They could see the pores on the other men's faces. All was silent. All was still. Then, the horns of the armies shattered the peaceful silence. Then the battle cries arose. Hundreds of men screaming, bloodcurdling screams fills the air. Then, they charged.
Survivors describe the hiss of the steel on leather a kin to hundreds of serpents. The two armies met in the lowest point of the valley. In the first minutes, it looked like nothing was happening. Then, they saw the blood. The white roses were all stained red with the blood of the old, the young, and the sick. After the first hours, men were slipping on the blood. If the screams of the fallen didn't make you fearful, the smell would. For the entire day, men fought , and died in that field. The next morning, only five of each army were left alive. They made peace, and wept for their fallen brothers. They made a pact. To remember the conflict, they would spread the red roses around the world. That's how red roses were created.