The Knights of Pegasus ~ English version

Chapter 1 : The Hidden Truth

Year 2019

Domrémy-la-Pucelle, a French commune located in the Vosges, in Lorraine, was popular among historians and medieval-loving tourists. The birthplace of the famous warrior Joan of Arc, the house where she lived, next to which a contiguous museum space had been erected, was the main destination for these curious visitors. Some nearby buildings were destroyed to highlight it in the center of a garden. The village church stood nearby, also receiving many visitors.

Further down in the city center, a shop displayed windows filled with statuettes of the female knight, as well as other models. A life-size statue of Joan of Arc adorned the center of the store, visible from the window. She stood tall and proud, holding the hilt of her sword in her hands, the tip of the blade resting on the ground. Several tourists bought their souvenirs of the city here.

In July 2019, a couple of vacationers with a strong southern accent entered the shop, causing the bell to ring.

"Bonjour."

Hidden behind the statue was the counter. A half-carved marble block was there, and the saleswoman was working on it. One could distinguish a tanned skin and a gentle face with full lips, but the young woman wore opaque sunglasses and a black scarf that completely concealed her hair. She raised her head towards her visitors, noticing that they were staring at her. Instead of taking offense, she offered them a beautiful commercial smile.

"Are you looking for something specific?" she asked.

"Excuse me," the man whispered. "Yes, we're looking to buy a souvenir of our vacation here... do you carve everything yourself?"

"As you can see," she replied, pointing to the block that was starting to take shape. "So, a souvenir. I imagine you're looking for a representation of Jeannette... Joan of Arc. On foot or on horseback?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter. But continue your sculpture, we'll take a look."

The saleswoman nodded and returned to her counter, armed with a small chisel and a hammer. She had barely made two strokes when a woman from the village entered, heading straight for her.

"Madame David," greeted the sculptress with a smile. "Is everything okay?"

"Not really, Mira."

The woman in her forties rummaged in her bag and showed Mira a missing person's notice.

"Could you post this here?" she asked. "It's my son... you know, Remy. He's been missing for three days."

"Yes... I heard..."

"Listen, I know he's a troublemaker and... well, he's not a bad guy, he's just a teenager who..."

"I heard he had a weapon."

"He... he took his father's gun. But he wouldn't hurt anyone."

"Madame David, he was put in custody last month for hitting a girl who rejected his advances... she's still in the hospital, by the way."

"I know..."

The desperate woman sat down on one of the poufs that Mira had set up in her store for tired customers. The saleswoman put down her tools and went around her counter to join her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"He used to be so kind," the poor mother whispered. "But since he started high school..."

"I know that too. He came to buy a cat figurine for you when he was younger."

"Yes. It's still on my mantle. I don't know what happened... Mira, he's my son. I hope he hasn't hurt someone who would... oh my god..."

"Come on, don't say that. It's true that he deserves a scolding, but nobody in our community would go that far."

"I hope so... he's already attacked almost everyone."

"Give me two posters. I'll put one inside and the other on the window."

"Oh! Thank you, Mira! Thank you!"

The young woman let herself be hugged and took the notices. She sighed once her neighbor had left and began to hang up the two papers. She knew exactly where young Remy was. He was currently in her basement. No, it wasn't some kind of psychopathic fetish. Mira was Medusa. Since the curse of the goddess Athena, she had lived for hundreds of years and had settled here, as far away as possible from Greece and those cursed gods. She hid her origins quite easily, but Madame David's adolescent son had taken it upon himself to go after her. This wasn't his first attempt. The whole community was angry with him. But this time, he had a weapon. Mira lightly rubbed her shoulder as she recalled that night, three days ago.

She had just closed the shop and was preparing a well-deserved dinner upstairs in her apartment when she heard a noise downstairs. Fortunately, she hadn't untied her scarf yet and just had to put her sunglasses back on before going back down to the shop. There, she found him, trying to force open her cash register. When he noticed her, he immediately stood up, drawing his revolver. He demanded the key to her cash register, but Medusa refused, trying to reason with him. Remy claimed he "needed" that money, but when the young woman insisted on knowing why, he shot her in the shoulder. He had already injured the baker before, with punches, and also the grocer. He attacked a police officer when they took him into custody and almost killed an eleven-year-old boy, beating him with a branch just to take his money. Who knows what he would have been capable of? And after attacking Medusa, would he have continued to attack people in the village? Most likely. Although hesitant, she took off her sunglasses. The marble statue of the young man now stood in her basement, so that no one would find him. The revolver pointed forward, the trigger almost pulled, a look of terror frozen on his face.

"Excuse me?"

Medusa jumped and turned to the tourist woman.

"Oh, sorry!" exclaimed the saleswoman. "I almost forgot about you."

"I understand, it's terrible what's happening."

"Oh... you heard."

"That poor lady is so upset that she forgets to speak more quietly about this kind of subject."

"Yes... did you find your souvenir?"

"Yes! This miniature version of your large statue. It's really beautiful."

"Perfect. I'll get a box."