Joan of Arc

May 20, 1430, France

Dark times were hitting Europe, especially France, who was fighting a war against England, trying to free itself from the control of Edward III, who was said to have illegitimately seized the throne of France, prohibiting the legitimate heir from assuming their respective office and added to other territorial disputes.

But oh, how long had this dispute been going on? You swear you were born when this confrontation was already taking place, even your grandparents had lived half their lives knowing about this war, how much longer? Months? Years? Decades even?

Nowadays you found yourself wandering from town to town, with not much left behind and very little waiting for you ahead, but what else could you think of doing in this day and age? Settling down would only serve to make you one more victim of the ravages that the war left in its wake.

You never liked war, not even as a child, and yet you were forced to be raised and molded around it. There was no point in killing each other over pieces of land or facades like "honor", what other sense could even guide one to such atrocities? What moved people to fight?

You were in those thoughts when you heard metallic footsteps, and quickly behind you, a sword edge touching your back...Damn, you were done for.

"Speak quickly, stranger. Tell me if thy are a threat to the King. Do tell me if thy are a heretic to the will of the Allmighty God."

The voice behind you said coldly... You could recognize that it was the voice of a young woman, but what would a woman do as a soldier? In these times? It sounded impossible.