Do Flares Fall?

Prologue

"Take cover!" Major Erica Crest screams as she notices the Grathrones have suddenly stopped shooting. Most soldiers would have decided that this would be the right time to strike but Erica knows better. Just as expected a few grenades explode where her team was just seconds ago.

"We can't move untill they run out of grenades Major." A soldier announces from behind her. She would have been considered beautiful once. But now with her brown hair not even reaching below her ears and a scar running across her left cheek tainting her dark complexion, she looks like nothing but a warrior.

"You think I don't know that?" she barks, "Stats on the snipers? If we get one clear shot at their grenade stash, this war would end, for a while at least." Power is a strange thing. Eleven wars have already been fought for it, this is the twelfth one.

"3 hours away" A strained voice comes from behind.

"Damnit!" Erica's eyes dart to the enemies camp trying to figure out a plan. But between all the commotion, she doesn't notice as a bullet pierces through her left arm. Her hand opens up involuntaryly in pain as she grits her teeth trying to subside her pain. Her eyes are still on the Grawhearts trying to figure out a way to get out of there alive.

"Umm... Major?" the same voice comes from behind distracting her.

"What?" she snaps. He points to her left hand, or rather the flame forming above it in thin air. She is taken aback by the sudden change but quickly composes herself, a plan already forming in her mind. She hopes luck is on their side as she flings the flame towards the Grawheart's sack of grenades.

The explosion is a distraction more than enough to get out of there. Afterall if only legends tried to live to fight another day, they would have definitely achieved more. And Erica Crest, or Erica Flare as she is known now, is definitely a legend born from the flames.