Austen

Childhood Ossian's childhood was immersed in the scent of disinfectant mixed with sweat unique to the fire station. Her father was a forest firefighter in Washington State, stationed year-round in the Cascade Mountains, while her mother’s outdoor equipment store became her playground after school. At the age of seven, she tried on her father's fire-resistant gloves in the store, looked at her clumsy paws in the mirror, and suddenly declared, “I want to be a firefighter!” Her mother laughed and bought her a mini fire axe toy, which then became her inseparable companion. The summer of her twelfth year changed everything. Her father was burned while fighting an out-of-control forest fire; although he survived, he was left with permanent scars on his face. In the hospital, Ossian watched her father wrapped in bandages and realized for the first time the dangers of his profession. That night, she hid in the fire escape outside the ward and cried for half an hour before drying her tears and pocketing the lighter from her father's bedside table — not out of fear, but because she suddenly understood: “The more dangerous something is, the more someone must be brave enough to touch it.” Teenage Years In high school, Ossian was the typical "problem student" — unable to sit still in class, her report card mostly filled with grades below B except for physical education, yet she scored full marks on the firefighter volunteer assessment. She joined the school's fishing club, not because she loved the calm, but because every time the bobber moved while fishing it felt like a fire alarm, demanding immediate response. The coach said she was “more focused holding the fishing rod than the steering wheel,” but only she knew it was the only time she could be still without trembling. On her eighteenth birthday, she didn’t want a party but insisted her father teach her to use a fire hose. When the high-pressure water pushed her back three steps yet she stood firm, her father suddenly said, “The fire is ten times harsher than this water pressure, but the fire in your eyes is fiercer than the flames.” This became her reason for applying to the fire academy. Professional Years At the age of 23, Ossian was involved in a fire rescue in a downtown apartment building. While carrying an unconscious little girl down the stairs, the floor suddenly collapsed, and she shielded the child with her back, injuring her right leg from falling debris. Upon waking in the hospital, the captain told her the child was safe, and she smiled at the ceiling — not out of relief, but because the feeling of “living through the gates of hell” had become addictive. After recovering from her injury, she became obsessed with barbecuing. Every week during her time off, she would set up a grill in the fire station's backyard and invite teammates to bring meat. “Fire can kill, but it can also cook,” she said while sprinkling seasoning, “just like us — we can tear down houses, but we can also save lives.” Her teammates joked that her barbecue sauce had the taste of a fire axe, spicy yet addictive. Now, Ossian still approaches each day with the vigor of someone invigorated, and at 27, she is already the youngest core member of the rescue team. When asked if she fears not being able to get out one day, she always smiles and pulls out a fishing hook: “Fear? Would you be afraid if the bobber sank while fishing? Of course not; you would just jerk the rod — life is the same, you either pull the rod or watch the fish swim away.” What no one knows is that every rainy night before heading out on a call, she touches the old lighter her father gave her in her pocket; it is her only “amulet.”