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There once was a girl... a very strange, enchanted girl... and she had some lessons to learn.

She learned one day that she was special. Oh, not that way-- not like a superhero or an alien or anything. But she had a purpose, though it took her years and years to discover what that purpose really was. And she did her best to fulfill that purpose, despite never being quite sure whether she was getting it just right, because there was no one to ask.

And she learned later that her purpose was connected to others like her. She met them, and everything seemed to click right away. Things fell into place. And at the tender age of 21, our heroine learned that she was supposed to do something Really Important. And over the next 7 years, she did that thing, to the best of her ability, working with these others-- some of whom she grew to despise because of their cruelty, or their pettiness, or their inability to see and apply sense to the purpose. She loved and lost, and loved again, and lost again. Because that was the cruel nature of the task at hand.

And after that 7 years of servitude, learning, growing, sacrificing everything to the purpose and the Really Important Thing that had to be accomplished, she thought she was done. The purpose was accomplished. The Really Important Thing was done. Everyone was safe. She could live her life in relative peace.

And then 10 years later, she found out that this wasn't the case. Not at all. The Really Important Thing she had helped to accomplish? It was in danger. Again. Because it will always be in danger. Her responsibilities as a leader, as a protector? Not discharged. Not by half.

But her struggles in her personal life had become a distraction. She loved her husband, but she had come to the sad and hurtful conclusion that their marriage had one purpose of its own, and that purpose was accomplished. By his absence, he showed her that he knew it, too. Her career had had its ups and downs, and had finally come to rest in a place where she could, on the surface, seemingly fight for justice-- but that justice was politically motivated, and so was justice denied in all but the most meaningless of circumstances.

And then she met and fell in love with someone with whom she shared her purpose, and this was perhaps the gravest error of all-- one she had committed twice before, and one she should have known better than to commit. But she couldn't help herself. Not at all, not even when she tried to back away. Because when you feel that click in your soul, sometimes, you can't help but say, "yes, this is right; this is what I want and need; this is what I deserve."

And over the months, as it became clearer to her that everything around her was crashing down specifically to distract her from the purpose, she laid down, distraught, sorely tempted to let it all burn and flood and sweep her away in a sodden pile of ash. But fire and storm not withstanding, weeping and bloodied in her spirit, she remembered who she was. She remembered that she had Really Important Things to do. She had Really Important People to protect. She got to her feet. She shook her fist at her enemy and said, "Not so fast, buddy. You don't get to defeat me that easily. En garde!"

Fair warning, fairly given. Once more unto the breach.

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silverhawk79

July 2017

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