“‘Liza, ‘Liza!”

A girl, no older than ten, trotted from the wooden house with a wide grin. Her smile missing two teeth, but beaming with an unwavering brightness that came with childhood. Her small hands clutched the skirt of her dress as she jumped down the front steps to the older woman, swinging herself about to hug the acclaimed “‘Liza”’s legs.

"You're back! I thought you'd never come back!"

“Szia, Csilla!” Strong arms lifted the girl up, making her squeal in delight. Eliza pressed a kiss to her cheek. Warm summer sun brought the scent of grass and flowers from the meadows. Idle chatter on the streets. A pocket of heaven where no harm could reach. She wished she could stay here forever, the girl clung to her tightly as her mother watched from the door with a small smile. Eliza considered them friends. As close to friends as she could be with her people. She's watched their sacrifices, knew their struggles. 

"Papa is coming home! Mama said so, he sent us a letter saying the war was over! Is it true, 'Liza? Is Papa coming home? You're home so it MUST be over!" Those wide blue eyes stared up at her. So full of hope, of promise. The world hadn't shattered her spirit yet. Her heart bled at the pure innocence behind those words. One black glove reached to her uniform, unpinning a golden emblem and placing it onto Csilla's dress.

"It's true, dragam. It's finally over!" Her boots dug into the soft soil as she spun. Joy filled the sky. Maybe they could have hope after all and pretend human life wasn't a cruel cycle, destined to repeat itself over and over again. These small moments were everything. The small moments of watching a girl brim with delight, reuniting with her father, long gone at a mysterious fight she couldn't even comprehend yet. 

A dandelion, yellow and strong. Blossoming in the sunlight with all its might. It knows nothing of mans cruel nature.

****

"Eliza?" 

The voice shook her from her thoughts. Green eyes flickered up form her papers to meet piercing blue. Serious, demanding. A teenagers glare.

"Hm...?"

"Why can't girls fight? Girls can't fight, yet you...you've been leading armies since..."

"Before you were born." A tired smile cracked on her face, dark shadows under her eys as they went back down to the page. Things were looking more and more bleak as time passed. At this point, they'd have no choice....

Silence hung in the air. They sat across the table in Eliza's cottage. The ticking of a clock the only sign time even passed as the tension grew thick between them.

"Papa says you're an angel..."

It caught her by surprise. Most soldiers were made aware of her nature as they were enlisted, many not grasping what was being told  until the woman stood before them, age beyond measure behind her eyes. Scars of war laced all across her body. Something about the spirit of a nation was laced tightly with her soldiers. They simply...knew, knew this was who led them to battle, to protect them with her life. And the knowledge was to remain closed off. 

And she never grew too close with anyone. Until her.

"An angel?" A chuckle escaped her lips, one hand brushing through brown locks. The other brunette stared at her, a hardened edge to her gaze. "Is that what you think?"

"No. Angels can't survive on Earth. That's why they stay in Heaven." Csilla slumped back in her seat, shaking her head with a quiet sigh. How could she already be so tired? Was the world truly so harsh to her? "I don't know what you are..."

"Why do you want to fight?" That question seemed to trigger something within her. The girl jumped from her seat, hands slamming onto the worn oak table. Something clinked against the wood, rolling to the floor. A golden pin.

"Its not FAIR, 'Liza! I'm a woman, is that it?! That's all?! So what makes you so special?! I....I just want to make my papa p-proud and..." Tears began to bubble over. Childish hiccups as she crumpled back into her seat. Her hands gripped her hair, flinching slightly as Eliza stood to wrap her arms around the shivering form. 

"You don't want to go in there, kedves...I don't want that for you. Your papa is plenty proud of you..."

Yellow flower withered. Delicate puffs taking the place of bright petals. A purpose quietly realized, the only ending coming into sight. The world attacks anything holding beauty.

****

"ELIZA!"

Explosions, screaming. The smell of gunpowder and smoke festered in the air. Formalities forgotten in the panicked scramble for life. Her head jerked up from her scope. That voice. Where....

"CSILLA?!" She shouted, the green uniform blending in with all the rest. But shining blue eyes met hers from across the trench. Despair exploded in her chest as she ran over, grabbing her by the torso and pulling her down, away from the gunfire. She knew it was her. A golden pin was on her uniform pocket. Out of dress code, but that hardly mattered now.

"What are you doing!? What....I..."

"I...." Her voice shook, breath coming in short gasps. "Eliza, Eliza-" 

"GET DOWN!" A soldier from beside them shouted, ducking below cover. The ground shook, hell rained from above. The clouds opened up to cry upon the blood stained ground as if woken by the fighting. There was no time to comfort. Not when the world was ending before their eyes. 

Her hair was cut short, chest flattened by some sort of binding. Pretend. She was playing a game of pretend.  Grabbing a fallen gun, Eliza perched it back up on the side of the trench. The glass of the scope was cloudy, making her squint to see anything. It rattled in her hands as bullets fired in an explosion of sound.

A wet splatter.

More screaming.

Blood.

Csilla was covered in blood. But it wasn't her own.

Brain. Bone. None of it.

A corpse laid on top of her.

She couldn't stop screaming.

Puffs flown away on the breeze. Leaving a bare flower behind. Taken. Cold. Left bare, no beauty remained.

*****

"Csilla..."

A gentle hand clutched another, one that didn't react to her touch. The sunlight shone in through the window, warming the wooden floor. Summer was dawning with its slow tendrils pulling away the balmy feeling of spring. 

"I've brought you some flowers."

A bird called out somewhere, searching for its partner. Or warning others away from its territory. It was hard to say. Its chirps all sounded the same. How she longed for another voice to join its chorus

"A bird, a bird, 'Liza! Mama told me all about that one! Can I tell you?"

"Eliza, can you teach me to sew? Papa keeps ripping his pants and Mama's hands shake too badly to repair them..."

"Eliza...am I supposed to call you General now? You can make an exception for me, right?"

Blue eyes glossed over, staring out the window but seeing nothing. A shuddering breath escaped the shell of a human. Her face was a skeleton of the bright, rosy cheeks once grinning so brightly at her. This was her fault. 

She only wanted to make her father proud. To serve her country and protect it. Protect...her.

Now visions of bombshells rang inside her ears. The scent of blood coppery and fresh like it still bled fresh from her own wounds.

Guilt brought her to her knees. Her hands gripped the thin, pale arm before her as she heaved out a sob. It was worse than death. At least in death, the girl would know peace. She's be with her parents. The horrors of this world wouldn't live on in her mind forever. And she wept.

Her form shuddered as her breathes choked on heavy sobs, uncaring for who heard her wailing. 

A child

She was just a child. 

God, please. Who deserves this suffering?

Withered. Served its purpose. Nothing left to spread, bare. The dandelion is a cruel flower. The spring brings bright colors, butterflies and bees to caress its precious petals. By the winter, its done all its can. It has no choice. But to shrivel.

And die.

*****

"Szia....Csilla."

Winter comes. Snow on a grey stone. A golden pin. Nobody speaks back.

*****