"So the won were terrified and bowed down to the ground.
’Why are you looking for the living among the dead?’ asked the n. ’He is not here, but he has risen! Rember how he spoke to you when he was still in Galilee, saying, ’It is necessary that the Son of Man be betrayed into the hands of sinful n, be crucified, and rise on the third day’?’ And they rembered his words.
Returning from the tomb, they reported all these things to the Eleven and to all the rest. Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of Jas, and the other won with them were telling the apostles these things. But these words seed like nonsense to them, and they did not believe the won. Peter, however, got up and ran to the tomb. When he stooped to look in, he saw only the linen cloths. So he went away, amazed at what had happened."-Luke 24:5-12
_________________________
Riding on horseback, with a bow and quiver full of arrows, there are two wild boars dead, and hung to the side of the saddle.
The spin chilling sounds of fire, buildings collapsing and won shouting are coming from the young Joan’s village.
As she steps off of her horse, the horrible sight of her ho and the area she grew up in, ransacked and left tornted by the enemy forces.
Behind her, sitting on the aggravated Joan’s horse, L’Orient sits backwards with the back of her head resting on the back of the four legged beast’s cranium.
L’Orient DæMon: "Yes, young one.
Know the true aning of this world. Let that feeling swell up and be released through every pore in your body.
You are going to beco a legend, ’Jean DæMon’."
[One Month Later]
{Vaucouleurs, France}
Within the small commune of 15th century France, many commoners and lower class gather around the entrance to their quiet little village.
Amongst the people is chatter and speculation relevant to why almost everyone in the small commune has gathered so eagerly together.
Woman Citizen: "I’ve heard stories from others about her, but I never thought she would return."
Man Citizen: "I wasn’t present the first ti she was thrown out by Lord Baudricourt.
From what the others say, it was one of the most glorious displays of cody they had ever witnessed.
I am NOT going to miss it this ti."
Riding in on horseback, the beautiful and elegant Joan rides in wearing light leather armor and chainmail across her stomach.
A group of three young peasant boys push their way up to the front of the crowd and bask in the young ladies stoic expression as she rides passed them.
At the last instant, a tiny little girl who followed in the boys wake appears.
First seeing the blushing little boys looking up at her, then the little girl with matching pink eyes as her own.
The popular, ’stoic’ female warrior blows the little pink eyed girl a kiss. (But as she rides away smiling, in the background behind her, the group of boys eventually start to fight over who the gesture was directed towards, never realizing the true target.)
She eventually rides all the way to a beautiful, two building chapel. The crowd of interested followers in a distance trot, but keep their distance, knowing their place in society.
With her pink eyes glistening in the bright sun, the prophetess hops off of her horse, and ties the majestic mare to the fence outside of the chapel. She looks around before coating her hands in a dark green layer of Seiõr.
She clutches the tied rope with the hand covered in mystical, universal energy.
The fibers of the rope becos slightly infused with the wooden fence post.
Joan DæMon: "Okay, that should be secure.
Nobody can take you away from again, la Puccelle.
If it weren’t for Ms. Archangel DæMon, I would have never found you or those lowly thieves so I could kick their scrawny asses."
She smiles and gives the long faced creature a soft pat on it’s head before turning to enter the religious building.
The trailing crowd continues to talk and murmur outside while they wait outside.
Older Woman Citizen: "Could she really be the armored virgin co to save France?"
Inside the entrance hall to the chapel, the young woman is t by two soldiers with both their faces and large bodies covered in armor.
One has a cross engraved on the front of his tal chest piece.
The other, has a cross engraved on the back of his armored torso.
Front Cross: "Welco, Joan of Domrémy.
I am sorry to inform you, but garrison commander Baudricourt has denied your request once again."
The determined woman warrior clenches her fist in anger. Unknown to the soldiers not mutually acknowledged by the universal energy, a layer of orange Seiõr covers her closed hand.
Back Cross: "Relax, young lady.
Your cause is not fully lost yet, you have been summoned to the Nancy prefecture by the Duke.
I, Bertrand de Poulengy..."
Jean de tz: "...And I, Jean de tz..."
Bertrand de Poulengy: "...Will escort you along on your journeys."
Joan is caught by surprise from the imdiate loyalty given to her by the highly respected n.
She blushes and takes a step back.
Joan: "Wh-What!?
Why?!"
Bertrand de Poulengy: "Because we both believe you are the ’Virgin of Prophecy’."
Jean de tz: "And even if our superior doesn’t believe in you, we know you will be the female prophetess who will liberate France of her oppressing enemies."
Joan’s pink ocular sensors widen upon the sight of ’Archangel DæMon’ floating behind them with an evil smile on her face.
L’Orient DæMon(thinking): *And thus, the realization that there are now lives that directly aim their hopes of sanguinity upon you, young 2nd Generation.
Once you return back here from Nancy in one month, your goals will be far more reachable."
[Ten Days Later]
{Nancy, France}
Inside the sleeping quarters of a lavish castle, a sickly man and a young lady by his side.
Sickly Man: "Is she here yet?
The witch who can cure ?"
Young Woman: "Not yet, my dear.
Word has been sent to her and a returning ssage has confird of her acceptance to travel here and see to your illness."
The doors to the royal bedroom creak open and from the light, three silhouettes appear.
Once stepping closer, Joan and her two colleagues enter the room.
They bow to one knee and introduce themselves.
Joan: "Dearest Duke of Lorraine, I have received your ssage and I have arrived with my respectable partners, Jean de tz and Bertrand de Poulengy."
The weak Duke’s hand reaches out to the young woman and he whispers out to her.
Duke: "Please, oh blessed Maiden, use your magic and heal all of my alints.
If you do, I promise you riches beyond your wildest dreams and also the most glorious of fa for your kin to be proud of."
Under the warm lighting of fire contained in various spots around the room, Joan stares at the weak, shaking hand to the man who believes she can conjure magic.
She gets up off of her knee and looks irritated at the offering party.
Joan: "Was this really the reason I was summoned here?"
She turns to make her way out of the room.
Jean de tz: "Wait, ’Mada Virgin’!
Are we really going to leave him here to die?"
There is a mont of silence other than the ambiance of crackling flas.
Joan: "I can offer no cures, redies, potions, nor spells that can aid in the Duke’s recovery but maybe a recomndation.."
Before leaving she turns around and stares daggers at the politically powerful, but physically weak man.
Joan: "...Maybe the love and care of an actual wife by your bedside would do the trick, and not a gold digging mistress slowly depriving you of nutrition."
She turns back around, her two comrades tailing behind, and the group leaves the shocked man and angry mistress in the quiet night.
On their way out the two n in armor question the young woman’s thods.
Jean de tz: "Mada Virgin-"
Joan: "You can refer to as ’Joan’, please
That goes for the both of you."
The soldier takes a mont before restarting his question.
Jean de tz: "Mada Joan, you told the Duke your abilities couldn’t save him, but I know you could have, because of the rumors of your blessings on the sick children of France.
Was the reason you spared him no rcy, solely due to his infidelity?"
The 2nd Generation DæMon doesn’t answer him as they walk down the long marble hallway towards the exit.
[Two Weeks Later]
{Vaucouleurs, France}
Male Citizen: "They’re leaving!
She’s leaving!
The Virgin Warrior has finally been recognized!"
With her two familiar partners, as well as four other decorated soldiers, Joan is escorted out of the village on horseback while the citizens cheer her on.
The sa pink eyed little girl from a month ago is seen in the crowd but this ti, the stone faced woman stares straight ahead, not noticing the blushing, pint-sized peasant waving her off.
On top of the tallest building in the small 15th century French village, is a petite cloaked figured. The ’Archangel DæMon’.
Once again from a dark shadow inside of the hood, two blue eyes glow while watching the 2nd Generation DæMon lead her small team. The powerful DæMon’s ocular sensors different from her future red and blue heterochromia, squint in a smile.
Archangel DæMon: "Now go and create your legacy, young one. Prove the Valkyrie fighting spirit still lives. Learn the true art of warfare, and gain experience for our future.
But once these pathetic, weak, and scared humans turn on you, the sa individuals who put their hopes of sanguinity upon you.
I will be there to show you rcy, and in return, you will help build a powerful army."
Her blue eyes look up into the cloudy grey sky.
Archangel DæMon: "My sisters believe she is dead, but I know the ti will co..."
Joan looks behind her nods at her possé and flicks the reins to her horse. The group takes off from the city gates and follow a dirt path.
Archangel DæMon: "The ti to defeat Skalmönd, whenever she returns..."
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