Aces

It was a cold day of November, the sun trying to pass through the cardboard that was taped on the window was an ironic sight. He remembered that once, on his young days, his teacher told him that the weather would always fit with the mood. Now, when his life was laid in ruins, and his only choice was to stare at the dark abyss in front of him, that phrase didn't seem so true. (Or maybe it was, but not to him.) He heard the yells outside of his house, the streets of London were full, bright and colorful. Balloons, hopeful laughs of victory and happiness sounded through the small hole in the cardboard taping his window. Yes, maybe it was him. People were happy, how could they not? The war was over, the War to End All Wars. The world was a better place now. (...but...maybe...not to him.)

And, with a sigh, Major Wolff, looked back at the abyss in his hands, a finger slipping through the ring, the motions so familiar to him these days. He was 6 when he first held this in his hands. His father had wanted him to learn how to protect himself and, aiming with one eye closed - Which he now knew was something that shouldn't be done - he ended up shooting his older brother's, Kurt, foot. Nevertheless, when he, in his infinite wisdom and reckless young courage, enlisted 11 years later, he knew not to hit his friends.

Oh, how those days were precious. He could remember as if it was yesterday, the rush of excitement that followed every flight, the sound of the engines, the loud sounds of the propeller spinning. He was an angel, coming from the sky to protect beautiful die Mädchen - At least, that was how he saw himself. And it was in those days that he met Agi.

The memory, still fresh in his mind despite all the years, sprang up at his thoughts. He was just a newby, having just be given a tour through the base. He should be dressing himself for a meeting in one hour, but here he was, looking at all the amazing contraptions hiding in the hangar. And as he inspected each plane with wonder in his eyes, he suddenly noted a small, feminine figure moving at the edge of his vision. Her long blond hair flew through the air as she tied it to her back. The young Wolff wondered what was she doing in the military - Surely a woman beautiful like her had better places to be than in this dirty hellhole, he spoke his thoughts.

And what a scare it was when the person turned. Wolff became beet red as he noticed that under that luscious hair was a man, an devilish smirk on his face, looking at him with half lidded eyes.

"I knew I was pretty, but I didn't knew I was that beautiful, "szerető fiú" " He said in a heavy hungarian accent, making Wolff scowl despite his blush. He knew what that word meant. After a moment of silence, the man, whose frame still looked effeminate to him, offered his hand.

"I'm Agi, mechanic." He said, after a moment of hesitation, Wolff - Pilot - shook his hand. Their friendship after that sailed, and, despite the looming war, the tense atmosphere of fear and anticipation, he was happy.

It took but a month, though, for the assassination to take place. Franz Ferdinand was murdered, and the war that long hid in the shadows started.

War... Wolffe remembers clearly, even to his day, the childish ignorance that he used to have. War, to him, as a young fighter pilot, was nothing but a game. A giant adventure which him, as the protagonist, would always come out on top. It was with this mentality that, when his brother died in that October of '17, he lost his drive.

He got the news from his commanding officer one day later. He was at the hangar with Agi, fixing up his plane for the next mission. It was a letter - So impersonal, so hurtful - that he read only after the C.O. left. He remembers that from the moment he saw the letter he was disturbed, he felt, even without knowing what it was, that it was something horrible that would shook him at his core. And so it did - Wolff never asked, despite months of wondering, why, instead of leaving him to his own sorrows, Agi stayed, offering him his own shoulder. He would never know, he thought, but wonder he did.