Part 1: Joan's Escape
Chapter One: A Diverted Fate
The flames licked hungrily at Joan's feet, the heat rising in suffocating waves. The girl who had led the armies, who had spoken with saints and angels, closed her eyes and waited for the end. But f...
In a small stone chapel hidden deep in the forests of Lorraine, Joan knelt before a simple wooden cross. Her eyes were closed, her lips moving in silent prayer. Jean de Metz stood watch at the door, his hand never far from his sword hilt.
Suddenly, Joan's eyes flew open, blazing with an inner light. "St. Catherine," she whispered. "St. Margaret. I see you."
As Jean watched in awe, Joan began to speak, her voice taking on a resonance that seemed to fill the tiny chapel.
"A great host gathers at Orléans," she said. "The English believe their victory is assured. But their confidence is their weakness. They have left the eastern approach unguarded, trusting in the river to protect them."
Joan's hand moved as if tracing a map only she could see. "We must gather our forces here, at the Monastery of Saint-Loup. Under cover of darkness, we will cross the Loire and strike at dawn. The English will be caught unawares, divided between their main camp and the riverbank fortifications."
As quickly as it came, the vision faded. Joan slumped forward, catching herself on the altar. Jean rushed to her side, helping her to her feet.
"Did you see it all, Jean?" Joan asked, her eyes bright with excitement.
"I saw enough," he replied, his voice filled with wonder. "Your visions have always guided us true, but this... this was something more."
In the days that followed, Joan dictated every detail of her vision to Brother Mathieu, a scribe who had joined their small band of loyalists. The monk's quill scratched endlessly across parchment as Joan recounted not just military strategies, but prophecies of political alliances, of harvests to come, of great works of art yet to be created.
Word of Joan's enhanced visions spread quickly among her supporters. Those who had doubted her divine connection before found their skepticism challenged. Even some of her former accusers began to wonder if they had been too hasty in their judgment.
As her followers grew in number, so too did the scope of her prophecies. Joan spoke of a future where France would not only be free of English rule but would become a beacon of learning and culture for all of Europe. She saw a time of great enlightenment, scientific discoveries, and artistic marvels.
But with these grander visions came warnings as well. Joan foresaw conflicts and challenges that would test the resolve of the French people. She spoke of the need for unity, for compassion, for a commitment to justice that went beyond mere laws.
Through it all, Brother Mathieu's quill never stopped moving. The chronicles of Joan's visions would become a treasure trove for future generations, a source of inspiration and guidance for those seeking to understand the workings of the divine in the mortal world.
As summer turned to autumn, Joan knew the time had come to emerge from hiding. Her visions had shown her the path forward, and now she must walk it. France awaited its savior, and Joan of Arc was ready to answer the call once more.
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