[Notre Dame, Paris]
A man on a platform was standing on a platform, below him were a crowd, looking at him curiously and nervously.
The man opened a scroll, before speaking loudly towards the crowd:
"In consideration of the request of the d'Arc family against the Bishop of Beauvais, the promoter of criminal proceedings, and the inquisitor of Rouen... in consideration of the facts.... We, in session of our court and having God only before our eyes, say, pronounce, decree and declare that the said trial and sentence of condemnation being tainted with fraud, calumny, iniquity and contradiction, and manifest errors of fact and of law... to have been and to be null, invalid, worthless, without effect and annihilated... We proclaim that Jeanne did not contract any taint of infamy and that she shall be and is washed clean of such."
The crowd in front of the man cheered, some sobbed, cried, roared even, happy that their member of their village was not a heretic after all. One stood out the most, an elderly woman, crying loudly as the man announced the annulment.
Meanwhile, a young woman was standing in the middle of the court, her hair now long, her skin tanned, and she was wearing a peasant dress. She was staring at the man on the platform, speechless on what she just saw.
She clenched her fist hard, that blood came out… she was feeling conflicted, what should she feel? Happy? Angry? Sad?
That woman was of course Jeanne, the one who the man on the platform was referring to.
She then saw her mother, crying in front of the platform. She wanted to hug her and tell her that she was alright, that she was alive, but a tap on the shoulder reminded her of what her position is.
“Jeanne…” murmured another woman, it was Thena. “Not here, not in front of the church.”
Jeanne held herself back, and nodded. She just stood there, watching her mother carefully as the crowd started to disperse.
As she waited in the corner of the street, waiting for her mother to walk away, she saw someone, someone she knew, someone that betrayed her.
She saw Charles VII, walking out of the church, with his guard protecting him at all times.
When she saw her, her heart filled with anger, filled with rage, if Pluto hadn’t stopped her, she could’ve just unleashed her power at him, slaughtering the guards around him.
“Jeanne, stop.” said pluto, holding her hand tightly. “While he may betrayed you, you did an idiotic thing, and he needed to run a kingdom and drive the English out of the kingdom, which he succeeded. ”
“I won’t do anything.” said Jeanne calmly, but Pluto could tell her rage was swelling inside. “I just want to talk to him.”
“Then not now.” answered Pluto. “Not in the middle of the day.”
Hearing Pluto’s words, Jeanne took a deep breath, and calmed herself down. “Okay.”
“Do you want to meet your mother now?”
Jeanne then turned towards her departing mother, and then turned to Charles again. “I- I need to get it off of my chest first… then I’ll meet mother.”
Thena smiled, and hugged her. “It’s okay, we’ll wait.”
—
[Night Time]
At the king’s chamber, Charles VII was sitting in front of his desk, writing letters to send to other nobles. The place was only lit up by a candle, and the moon was shining outside.
Charles only focused on writing, he didn’t feel anyone was near him, yet a woman was standing in front of him blatantly.
“Greetings, my king.” said the woman suddenly, making Charles flinched, and almost fell out of his chair
“Who-” Charles was freaked out, and when he saw who it was, he became pale. What is he seeing right now? He knew the woman in front of her, she was just like those years ago, as if she was frozen in time.
“W-What is this?” he murmured to himself. “Am I having a vision?”
“No, you are not, my king.” said the woman. “You don’t have my gifts.”
“Jeanne?” frowned the king. “Is that… really you?”
“It is,” said Jeanne. “I… wanted to talk.”
“How are you still alive?” questioned Charles, a bit nervous. “You… are you really a witch?”
“I assure you, I am not.” said Jeanne in annoyance.
“Then, why are you here? Alive? When you should’ve been burned at the stake a couple decades ago.”
“They gave me a chance,” said Jeanne calmly. “A chance to live.”
“God?”
“You can say that,” said Jeanne, voice cracking.
Charles gulped, so she really was a god’s messenger… “What do you want from me now?”
“My king, I… just wanted to talk,” said Jeanne softly. “Why? Why did you abandon me?”
“I did not, Jeanne, I tried to avenge you.”
“We both know that’s a lie, my king.” continued Jeanne coldly. “You never offered a trade for me.”
Charles then stared at Jeanne, before sighing. “You are a nuisance after I became king… uncontrollable, you are reckless, you believed too much in god as you charge on battlefields recklessly, not caring about the dying men around you.”
Jeanne clenched her fist. He was right, Pluto had yelled at her, reminding her mistakes while she was still ‘alive’. “But did I deserve such punishments? Burned at the stake, cursed as a heretic, for the crimes I never committed.”
“It is true that it is harsh, Jeanne,” said Charles. “But you are only one, while I need to save many from the grasp of the English.”
Suddenly, Jeanne summoned a light sword, and split the desk in half, before pointing the sword at Charles’s neck. The king was sweating profusely, how could he not? A strange power was displayed in front of him, the power of the saints, perhaps?
Jeanne looked angry, betrayed, conflicted. Her expression changed a couple of times. She was about to cut off Charles’s head, before, finally, she dropped down on her knees, weeping as she deconjured her sword.
The king sighed in relief, as he wasn’t killed. He looked at the weeping Jeanne, and said. “I’m sorry Jeanne, but I did what I had to do.”
The king was mad, but he couldn’t do anything about it. A saint, an actual saint, in front of him, he could not punish her, as it wasn’t his right.
The king was standing in between the split desk, the candle still somehow lighting up the place. Jeanne had calmed down somehow, and said. “Thank you, for restoring my name.”
She smiled at him, her eyes still had a trace of contempt, but she hid it.
The king just nodded, and suddenly, Jeanne disappeared, blue dust scattered around the room, only leaving the king with his lonesome self, thinking about what he just experienced.
—
[Orleans]
Jeanne was now in front of a house, behind her are Thena and Pluto. She looked at he house in confusion, and Thena then clarified.
“It’s your mother’s.” she said, making Jeanne’s heart skip a bit. “She moved away from your village to here.”
Jeanne nodded, and walked to the house. She knocked on the door, only to be answered by a loud voice from the inside, telling her to wait.
Jeanne braced herself for what she was about to experience again. She took a deep breath, and finally, the door opened.
It revealed an old woman, she looked tired and haggard, but there was a sense of new vigour from her.
The old woman looked at Jeanne, and froze.
Meanwhile, Jeanne held back a tear, as she smiled softly. “Mother.”
[Notre Dame, Paris]
A man on a platform was standing on a platform, below him were a crowd, looking at him curiously and nervously.
The man opened a scroll, before speaking loudly towards the crowd:
"In consideration of the request of the d'Arc family against the Bishop of Beauvais, the promoter of criminal proceedings, and the inquisitor of Rouen... in consideration of the facts.... We, in session of our court and having God only before our eyes, say, pronounce, decree and declare that the said trial and sentence of condemnation being tainted with fraud, calumny, iniquity and contradiction, and manifest errors of fact and of law... to have been and to be null, invalid, worthless, without effect and annihilated... We proclaim that Jeanne did not contract any taint of infamy and that she shall be and is washed clean of such."
The crowd in front of the man cheered, some sobbed, cried, roared even, happy that their member of their village was not a heretic after all. One stood out the most, an elderly woman, crying loudly as the man announced the annulment.
Meanwhile, a young woman was standing in the middle of the court, her hair now long, her skin tanned, and she was wearing a peasant dress. She was staring at the man on the platform, speechless on what she just saw.
She clenched her fist hard, that blood came out… she was feeling conflicted, what should she feel? Happy? Angry? Sad?
That woman was of course Jeanne, the one who the man on the platform was referring to.
She then saw her mother, crying in front of the platform. She wanted to hug her and tell her that she was alright, that she was alive, but a tap on the shoulder reminded her of what her position is.
“Jeanne…” murmured another woman, it was Thena. “Not here, not in front of the church.”
Jeanne held herself back, and nodded. She just stood there, watching her mother carefully as the crowd started to disperse.
As she waited in the corner of the street, waiting for her mother to walk away, she saw someone, someone she knew, someone that betrayed her.
She saw Charles VII, walking out of the church, with his guard protecting him at all times.
When she saw her, her heart filled with anger, filled with rage, if Pluto hadn’t stopped her, she could’ve just unleashed her power at him, slaughtering the guards around him.
“Jeanne, stop.” said pluto, holding her hand tightly. “While he may betrayed you, you did an idiotic thing, and he needed to run a kingdom and drive the English out of the kingdom, which he succeeded. ”
“I won’t do anything.” said Jeanne calmly, but Pluto could tell her rage was swelling inside. “I just want to talk to him.”
“Then not now.” answered Pluto. “Not in the middle of the day.”
Hearing Pluto’s words, Jeanne took a deep breath, and calmed herself down. “Okay.”
“Do you want to meet your mother now?”
Jeanne then turned towards her departing mother, and then turned to Charles again. “I- I need to get it off of my chest first… then I’ll meet mother.”
Thena smiled, and hugged her. “It’s okay, we’ll wait.”
—
[Night Time]
At the king’s chamber, Charles VII was sitting in front of his desk, writing letters to send to other nobles. The place was only lit up by a candle, and the moon was shining outside.
Charles only focused on writing, he didn’t feel anyone was near him, yet a woman was standing in front of him blatantly.
“Greetings, my king.” said the woman suddenly, making Charles flinched, and almost fell out of his chair
“Who-” Charles was freaked out, and when he saw who it was, he became pale. What is he seeing right now? He knew the woman in front of her, she was just like those years ago, as if she was frozen in time.
“W-What is this?” he murmured to himself. “Am I having a vision?”
“No, you are not, my king.” said the woman. “You don’t have my gifts.”
“Jeanne?” frowned the king. “Is that… really you?”
“It is,” said Jeanne. “I… wanted to talk.”
“How are you still alive?” questioned Charles, a bit nervous. “You… are you really a witch?”
“I assure you, I am not.” said Jeanne in annoyance.
“Then, why are you here? Alive? When you should’ve been burned at the stake a couple decades ago.”
“They gave me a chance,” said Jeanne calmly. “A chance to live.”
“God?”
“You can say that,” said Jeanne, voice cracking.
Charles gulped, so she really was a god’s messenger… “What do you want from me now?”
“My king, I… just wanted to talk,” said Jeanne softly. “Why? Why did you abandon me?”
“I did not, Jeanne, I tried to avenge you.”
“We both know that’s a lie, my king.” continued Jeanne coldly. “You never offered a trade for me.”
Charles then stared at Jeanne, before sighing. “You are a nuisance after I became king… uncontrollable, you are reckless, you believed too much in god as you charge on battlefields recklessly, not caring about the dying men around you.”
Jeanne clenched her fist. He was right, Pluto had yelled at her, reminding her mistakes while she was still ‘alive’. “But did I deserve such punishments? Burned at the stake, cursed as a heretic, for the crimes I never committed.”
“It is true that it is harsh, Jeanne,” said Charles. “But you are only one, while I need to save many from the grasp of the English.”
Suddenly, Jeanne summoned a light sword, and split the desk in half, before pointing the sword at Charles’s neck. The king was sweating profusely, how could he not? A strange power was displayed in front of him, the power of the saints, perhaps?
Jeanne looked angry, betrayed, conflicted. Her expression changed a couple of times. She was about to cut off Charles’s head, before, finally, she dropped down on her knees, weeping as she deconjured her sword.
The king sighed in relief, as he wasn’t killed. He looked at the weeping Jeanne, and said. “I’m sorry Jeanne, but I did what I had to do.”
The king was mad, but he couldn’t do anything about it. A saint, an actual saint, in front of him, he could not punish her, as it wasn’t his right.
The king was standing in between the split desk, the candle still somehow lighting up the place. Jeanne had calmed down somehow, and said. “Thank you, for restoring my name.”
She smiled at him, her eyes still had a trace of contempt, but she hid it.
The king just nodded, and suddenly, Jeanne disappeared, blue dust scattered around the room, only leaving the king with his lonesome self, thinking about what he just experienced.
—
[Orleans]
Jeanne was now in front of a house, behind her are Thena and Pluto. She looked at he house in confusion, and Thena then clarified.
“It’s your mother’s.” she said, making Jeanne’s heart skip a bit. “She moved away from your village to here.”
Jeanne nodded, and walked to the house. She knocked on the door, only to be answered by a loud voice from the inside, telling her to wait.
Jeanne braced herself for what she was about to experience again. She took a deep breath, and finally, the door opened.
It revealed an old woman, she looked tired and haggard, but there was a sense of new vigour from her.
The old woman looked at Jeanne, and froze.
Meanwhile, Jeanne held back a tear, as she smiled softly. “Mother.”
