#I apologize to my amazing rp partners I am a giant flake

[rangerlake]

There is something about a battle, the Big Fight, that seems like it comes with subtle but distinct fan fare. That build up that guides you towards the inevitable outcome of the fight, you can see the course charted in front of you the entire way.  There is time to prepare, rest up, anticipate, think.  You know, round up all the supplies you need.  Have a protein shake. Basic stuff like that.

Welp, that’s all a bunch of crap, Lake thought as she looked through the binoculars at the fire.

“How long have you had eyes on this?”

“Since 14:00.”

Wild fires had been popping up across the region, but they were easily linked to lightning strikes.  But not this one. This one had started during a nice spot of weather, dead smack in the middle of valley, with nothing but trees up hill, and good breeze to move things along.  And the along was straight towards No Moon.  This wasn’t natural.  But with all the other fires in the region, it was low priority. It’d gotten a name and there was tracking set up, but nothing more.  And now, staring through the binoculars, Lake was glad for that.  She wasn’t sure what she was looking at, but deep down in her gut, she knew it wasn’t supposed to be here.

“I need you and any of your associates to move south of this spot.”  She looked over at him, “I really recommend not being anywhere close by.”

“What if you need help?”

“Use something with good range and a good scope?”

She sent off a note through fae channels to let the right people know what was happening. Or at least what seemed to be happening.  Made a few requests as well.  The courier was reliable, if not exactly traditional.  She watched them go, a small tinge of jealousy that they was leaving the situation behind. This wasn’t where she wanted to be.  All that crap people say, that they go nobly into combat, buoyed by the sense of honor of responsibility?  Fucking morons who couldn’t properly assess the hazard staring them down.

Ripping the faded striped Pendleton blanket from the floor of her old Land Cruiser, Lake assessed her options. It was the best she had, guns, swords, enchanted weapons for spell casting.  All here due to watching too many disaster movies full of people who weren’t prepared.  A pang of understanding and empathy for those characters sang through her core of her being, some things were just too big and too impossible to be ready for. The grip of her collapsable baton, so familiar, worn to the shape of her fingers, felt ridiculously inappropriate for the situation.  She slipped both of them into their places, the weight familiar on her lower back.

Death held no fear for her, there was no unknown in that path.  The fear that feed her mood was the consequence of her failure.  There was no one else around to deal with this.  Lake looked back towards the rising smoke. Probably for the best she didn’t fear Death, she’d be in that place soon.  

Now she stood in the field, not far from the fire.  She watched the stream of animals and wild fae fleeing the approaching the storm.  To the east sat the wild dense that many of the wild fae lived in, present in the world, but never in the path of man.  She watched as many of the creatures she’d come to know helped drive animals away from the land in front of her.

“Wizard?”

“Yes?”

“There are humans in the path, newly arrived.  They wear a uniform the color of the sun and the grass.”

Well, shit, they’d sent out a fire crew.  Lake looked over at the stocky being next to her.  “They must be moved before I can do my work.  Will you remove them, preserving their life and health?”  She’d learned to add things like that, sometimes the fae folk weren’t too considerate of things like life and limb.  Or keeping the limbs together and attached to the original owner.

“Yes, Wizard.  But it isn’t wise to wait, the Outsider is approaching.”  

Trusting them to their word, Lake began to reach out.  She felt her power flow through her body, pouring out of her into the world.  Some of the bands of energy thrummed as they made their way into the ground.  Very little was wasted into the air.  What she needed to do required as much efficiency as possible.  Then she began to push her energy out with purpose.  The ground began to move, slowly churning.  The bands of moving earth stretched out almost a 500 meters in front of her.  But it wasn’t enough.  There wasn’t enough turn over.  

‘Death holds no fear from me’ she whispered.  And she truly believed it.  Besides, no fight was ever made easier by being mopey about it.

Lake  pushed down with her magic, touching her power to the ley lines that crossed below her feet.  It was like trying to take a drink of water from a fire hose.  For a moment, she thought she wasn’t able to handle it. Her mind held to the razor sharp intention she kept in her mind.  All of her muscles tightened, bracing against the energy.  With great concentration, she brought herself up to full height, facing the fire that worked its way towards her.  Fingers uncurled from palms, and the earth exploded into a churning mass, the fire being pulled under the earth, extinguished with force.  The range of the roiling earth shot out far beyond its original boundary.  Trees and rocks jumped, swayed, and were pulled under then ejected into the air as the earth turned.  The red glow was soon replaced with a haze of smoke and dirt.  

The earth fell into a familiar rhythm, the roils of dirt moving in coordination with Lake’s heartbeat, interrupted only by the occasion stray beat from one of the car sized dirt chunks breaking up in mid tumble.  The weather created by the fire raged around her, angry and confused that its energy was being consumed by the earth.  Slowly the wind changed, falling docile to the efforts, then fading away entirely.

The sound of screaming was registered by her brain, but she didn’t realize it was coming from her.  The blood coming from her ears distorted the sound.  Her body felt like one massive ache, like everything was extended just a bit too far. It was time to pull out of the ley line current.  But gods above, it was so hard.  With a tearing feeling that felt like her ribs were being torn from her spine, Lake pulled herself out.  

The sense of emptiness felt like breathing a cold desert into her lungs then not being able to exhale it.  Gasping did no good, there was no satisfaction in breathing.  Disorientation so intense that she didn’t even know where she was, laying awkwardly on the disturbed dirt. The first thing she could recall consciously doing was crying.  A good cry could bring all sorts of clarity to even the worst situation.  That doesn’t sound right, part of her brain argued, but, having just used up its small portion of energy, quickly fell quiet. And though the tears, blood, and snot, Lake finally got a good look at the flaming thing that emerged from the destruction she’d wrought on the land and on its fire.

It looked pissed.

Maybe.

It was hard to tell when it looked like a strange combination of a deer and a mass of worms writhing and swirling in and out of a giant orb.  The Outsider wasn’t as symmetrical as it should be.  It was missing pieces, chunks of its body.  The ooze must be blood.  The creature was injured.  That thought rallied Lake.  Magic might be spent, but she was not yet done.  This was what she trained for, what the misery she experienced amongst the dead for so long was meant to teach her, resiliency in the face of exhaustion and bleak odds.  Even when it looks lost, you keep fighting.  The thing opened its mouth and let a scream loose.  That was not where Lake would have guessed a mouth went.

You always get back up until it’s no longer possible.

Pushing herself off the ground, Lake turned to face the creature.  Her swords rested comfortably in her hands.  A moment was spared for her teacher, Darius. They’d argued over her weapons, Lake always wanting some type of shield.  “When the time comes, you’ll be glad you aren’t wasting a perfectly good hand on a shield.  You will every weapon you can hold. And you will need them.”  At the time she’d thought it was just commentary on her fighting skills.  Instead it was just the truth of war.  You win or you die. Hiding behind cover just prolongs the path towards those two options.  

Raising each sword up, she tapped each hilt to her forehead, kissed the bracelet on her right wrist, thought of all the people she loved, and offered a prayer up to the universe. Come what may, she would fight.  

….

Through the haze of dirt and smoke, Lake could see the stars.  They twinkled and blinked just like they always did.  She could see a lot of them.  The moon must be close to new, she figured.  A breeze blew strands of hair across her face, making it harder to see the stars.  That sucked, it’d been a nice view.  Everything smelled like copper.  Or it tasted like it.  Maybe both?   Didn’t really matter, though.  The rhythmic sound of her heart kept her company, loud in the absence of any other sound.  She’s never heard the wilderness so quiet.  Not even the bugs.  This was better than last time, no pain, no frustration, no sense of loss.  Just complete exhaustion.  This was what it was like to truly have nothing left.

She’d been victorious.

The Rocky Mountain region had held.

Unfortunately, victory in true battle never seemed to feel very good.  This was no exception.

She heard foot steps, felt the touch of gentle hands, the embrace of someone picking up her nonresistant body.  A firm grip against her back, the warmth of a body, her head in the crook of a neck. The faintest smile touched her lips.  Just like last time.  There was peace in consistency.