Her Legacy
People have lived and died by the dozens, many living out ordinary lives that fade away without a trace. Some may leave behind a certain legacy, be it good or bad. These legacies would impact those around, especially for the Nation.
This is the tale of a Nation and that girl… correct that, this is the tale of her legacy.
In another UN Council Meeting, it was still quiet as the Meeting had not even begun. America, China, Russia and England were all waiting for France, who was strangely absent.
"Yeesh, where's that France?" America complained, "we are into the last 10 minutes of the Meeting already!"
"Perhaps we should look for him, as his friends and all," China suggested.
"I miss France, I hope he's alright," Russia added.
"America, what day is today?" asked England, pouring another cup of tea.
"30 March, is that important?" America answered.
"Abjure the meeting to another day. France will not be here today," England said, sipping in his tea.
"Huh? What is special about today?" asked China.
"30 March 1431, that was the death of the famed Joan of Arc," England said.
"As in Hundred Years' Wars, that Joan!" America said.
"Yes, and she has a special place in France's existence…" England continued, sniffing his tea.
Meanwhile, in the City of Paris…
Italy was strolling along the streets of Paris, turning his head every now and then. This drew much discomfort from the locals, of course.
"France's people seem much unfriendly than I expected," he thought, "where is… Oh, there he is!"
Italy ran towards the Seine River, a scenic area marked by the Eiffel Tower. Seated by a bridge there, France gazed down at the flowing waters.
"France! France!" cried Italy.
France broke out from his daze and turned his attention to the young Italian.
"Italy, mon ami, what brings you here?" he asked, with a faint solemn tone.
"I got lost after a bilateral meeting with Miss Monaco," Italy admitted, "somehow, I wind up in Paris and I thought of seeing you."
"Lovely, Italy," France replied, "but alas, I am deep in thought as of now. I fear you must find your way back."
"Is there a problem?" asked Italy, "I can help you!"
"Hmm, I guess a little story would be lovely," France said, "many have perished under the tides of La Seine, but I would always remember that girl…"
"France, I never knew you had a crush," Italy exclaimed, "I never knew…"
"You were not yet independent," France continued, "La Seine was where she rests, Jeanne d'Arc…"
UN Council Meeting
"To be brief, the Hundred Years' War was a struggle for the French throne between the Anjou and Valois," England said, "this mess happened when the Duke of Normandy invaded me, uniting our crowns and giving me the excuse to eventually attack France and…"
"Can you stop being a history lecturer and get to the point?" America hollered.
"Okay, I first met Joan in the Siege of Orleans," England explained, "and it went out like this…"
The English Army marched on with deadly prowess, taking over every part of France in sight. Before them, the fortress city of Orleans stood in the way of English rule. The French forces loyal to the enemy stood there, led by France himself.
On the other hand, England stood on the vanguard of his forces.
"France, surrender Orleans and accept my King as yours," England demanded, raising his sword.
"I do not fear you, England," France replied calmly, "you may have your armies, but I hold God's will by my side. Charles is destined to be crowned and will be crowned."
"Who declares so?" England demanded.
"I do," a voice called out.
A lone figure walked out from the crowd and joined France. That person was fully armoured and holding a sword, but no mistake that this is a she. England grinned and laughed.
"You need girls to fight for you!" laughed England, "How amusing!"
"She is Jeanne, the missionary from God who shall fight with moi," France defended.
"In nine days, this battle will be over," England declared, "A complete victory and union of France and England!"
"I agree," Jeanne spoke, "but it shall be the victory of France!"
"And in nine days, we defeated Angleterre's armies," England said, "'twas a miracle and we scored many victories since then."
"Wow, you were so cool back then!" Italy exclaimed.
"Oui, but tragedy struck," France continued, "she was captured by Burgundies and sold to those vile Englishmen. She was doomed and no one would save her."
The town of Rouen was deep within the English-ruled areas of France, but it served as the perfect execution grounds for Jeanne d'Arc.
France rode his horse deep into Rouen, hoping to be there before it's too late. However, a large bonfire was already burning bright, with a humanoid figure burning away. Many men stood before the flames, two of which France knew. One was Burgundy of the Holy Roman Empire, while the other was England.
"Mon dieu…" he murmured.
"She is paying the price of a heretic," Burgundy coldly declared.
"You're next, France," England threatened.
"As I had mentioned earlier, Joan of Arc was burnt to death on 30 March," England continued, "I personally oversaw the execution."
"Killing a innocent girl," America exclaimed, "that's a new low, even for you."
"In my house, she and her whole family would be executed," China remarked.
"In Russia, we punish heretics most painfully," added Russia.
"Why is everyone here so wicked?" cried America, "at least I'm glad that I'm in charge here."
"I thought her death would kill the French morale, but…" England continued, "it had quite the opposite effect."
The French continued to make victories and fought back the Anglo-Burgundian alliance (with help from Scotland). This culminated in the Battle of Agincourt.
Agincourt was easily swept by the flames of war, with soldiers of both sides fighting to the death. In the chaos, France and England fought their own duel.
"Give up now, your wrench is gone!" England cried.
"She is always with me!" rebuked France, "God and Jeanne shall fight with me. You shall not take my house as you please!"
"Eventually, the Hundred Years' War ended with me taking back all of France, except for Calais," France explained.
"God was really on your side," Italy commented.
"Alas, poor Jeanne paid such a price for moi," France lamented, "thus, I appealed to the Pope…"
In Rome, the Vatican had a private audience with France.
"Monsieur Vatican, please look into a retrial of Miss Jeanne d'Arc," France pleaded, "she was framed by the English and Burgundians."
"Francis, you have bothered me so many times about this," Vatican said, "She is now for the Lord in Heaven to judge, no longer in my jurisdiction."
"You will convince your boss on the retrial or I will reveal all the dirty secrets in your institution," France threatened, "do we have some understanding?"
"Very well," the Vatican agreed.
"Or so I heard from Burgundy of how France did it, but he managed to make Joan innocent," England said, "Joan may have died, but France never forgot her."
"How so?" asked China.
"For instance, I take you to the Elizabethan Era," England recounted, "it was the debut of Henry VI then…"
In the backstage of The Globe, France forced England into a corner and grabbed him.
"What doth thou want?" England inquired.
"That wrenched propaganda! I demand you change them!" cried France, "your portrayal of Jeanne is false! She is not led by fiends!"
"If thou doth not agree with thy play, thou needth not see thy play," England replied, "now unhand thyself."
"I'm sure media shall portray your side as those ruled by fiends," France cursed.
"That accursed Brit tried to sully the name of my dear Jeanne," France exclaimed, "but I shall preserve her noble name by any means!"
"Big Bro, you are so devoted!" Italy proclaimed.
"Non, you praise me so," France admitted, "there were times I lost my way…"
While still in the Ancien Régime, England paid a diplomatic visit to France. The Englishman peeped into a door left ajar, in which he saw France among several young ladies.
"Frog!" he cried in English.
France turned to him and winked at the ladies. They complied and grabbed their garments, departing from the chamber. England charged in after the last od the ladies left.
"Frog, I came here for a diplomatic mission and you're having this disgraceful act!" England exclaimed, "Have you no shame as a host?"
"They were fine, but no woman shall ever compare to that girl," France remarked, "that girl was pure and saintly, eternally firm to Dieu, État et moi."
"You think about her even when you fornicate with others," England scoffed, "what a hopeless pervert…"
"Thinking back, I might have influenced France in the way he is now," England pondered, "he used to be a bit more decent before Joan's death."
"So you unleashed another terror unto the world," China lamented, "You're a such horrible influence on people."
"Anyway, France worked hard to clear her name," England continued, "Joan was named as a saint of France after the World War. He was certain she would be there for him…"
It was during the Second World War, just after the Axis Powers had occupied France. Thankfully, its personification was safe and sound in London along with loyalists.
France stood alone in the dark room, facing his tricolour flag. England happened to have walked in the room.
"You git, those Krauts have appointed a puppet government," England reported, "you need to form a government-in-exile to fight back."
"Oui," agreed France.
France took out a paintbrush dipped in blood-red paint and swiped it on his flag. A vertical line with 2 horizontal lines marked the new flag.
"This shall be emblem of Forces Françaises Libres," he declared.
"That cross… the Cross of Lorraine," England remarked.
"She hailed from Lorraine, Angleterre," France commented, "she has guided me before, and she shall do the same today."
"And so Jeanne d'Arc shall be my goddess of victory forever," France said, "so how is this tale of my dear Jeanne?"
"Beautiful, France!" commented Italy, "I'm sure she would return your affections if she could."
"Say, maybe you call Germany to fetch you home," France said, "Big Bro would love to, but I wish to be alone."
Back at the UN Council Meeting…
"And that concludes the story of Joan of Arc," England concluded, "have you learnt anything from it?"
"You're a lame ass history teacher," America exclaimed.
"You are to blame for France's behaviour," Russia said.
"Ah, such a tragic story of a young beauty," China tearfully commented, "Another victim of your so-called European religion…"
"Since the proclamation of the One God, our history is sullied by blood," a voice mused.
Everyone turned and found out that Greece was there, mopping the floor. Several of the cats that followed the Grecian were surrounding him.
"GREECE!" they cried.
"They claim to fight, and live for God, but what drives them so?" the Grecian pondered, "Is it fear for His wrath, or their personal glory?"
"Hey, this is a UN Security Council Permanent Members' only Meeting," America cried.
"Hmm… no, perhaps they refuse to believe in the futility of life and death," Greece pondered, "in which they seek to make up their legacy, at the costs of others…"
"GREECE, what are you doing here?" yelled America.
Greece finally turned to look at the Allies, and petted the cat resting on his shoulders.
"Your meeting was supposed to have finished an hour ago," Greece spoke, "I'm here to clean up before the next meeting."
"England, your story was also too long!" America complained.
"Well, I only began 10 minutes before the end of our allotted time!" England exclaimed.
"Mister UN instructed me to throw you out, but your story excited an aspect of me," Greece added, "you should go now, since the story has ended."
England placed his cup on the table and stood up to stretch himself.
"As long France is alive, Joan's story would not end," he remarked.
"Though I depart, the State remains." – that was what a wise Frenchman once said. While people come and go, the State is there. Any fight in the name of the State would be immortalised, be them tyrants or heroes.
Omake – The Guardian Angel
Late at night, most would have returned to their houses with their loved ones. However, France still remained by the banks of La Seine, drunk and asleep.
Unknown to the sleeping Frenchman, a hand tapped his shoulders.
"Reste, mon Etat," a voice spoke softly.
"Jeanne… don't…" France muttered.
Suddenly, he woke up and found himself alone by La Seine.
"… Go away…" he continued, "mon dieu, only a dream. I should find myself a proper bed."
