Jean: Mental Battleground
It was burning, the smell of smoke and flame rose out of everything, the flowers could no longer perfume the reality of the situation. The bloodbath before had been a brutal thing to see and she could not understand the why of such things. Right now, thought it was not her job to understand the why but to fight against it.
Grabbing her sword she had begun to make her way out in to the square where forces had gathered both for and against turning the landscape into a terror of blood and death, some of the people she knew for years had their faces lifelessly asking her why help couldn't come sooner. Help had come though and she was going to make sure if she had to fall then it would be something they would need to use everything they could for.
Large and dangerous, a great sword and show of fire was comforting to sea as did the well-known cry of ice shooting in one direction, turning around looking for the injured, her sister was currently trying to heal as much as possible using the church as a final bastion. Fatui were one part, and the chaos order were the other attacking but it was something where the forces did not care for any but their own and while the front gate stood open like a gaping wound Jean believed they could be forced back.
Steel clashed and spells flew and she could feel the heat of the flame and the silencing of a voice and as she turned to see Kaeya surrounded by fire.
"Amber couldn't make it, she blocked off the eastern gate!"
Jean winced trying to keep her eyes on the foot soldiers attacking her. Amber had fallen like she had had lived, in defense of what she held dear. Diluc had been to her right making sure to cut down opponents in the small space without causing damage to the half destroyed building. What had gotten people's attention came from the gate that was soon filled with debris.
A large deafening explosion had come from her left and in the last moments she could only see Kaeya fly back into the walls in a blur, and Diluc had seen it as well, leaving his position in a rage after sending his phoenix to burn all who stood in his way and ran behind her into the fires that remained. She had stepped back trying to cover him as he ran into the scene trying to find what was left of his adoptive brother, whomever that was trying to make their way and find a very angry claymore swordsman sifting through the debris. It was not until the strained cry to the heavens that the results had been made apparent to her as she tried guarding and striking. Turning back the body of Diluc had been seen walking through the flames again except his eyes had been hollow and flat when he picked up the handle of his weapon before dragging the tip of the heavy blade into the dirt and stone where many of the forces were watching from where the cry in pain had been standing.
Foot soldiers and hilichurls tried to stand strong but it was how he swung the sword to his hands. She had to look and see that what was the soul of the Dawn Winery owner gone to the madness of the battlefield. It had been enough that she could only wonder with what fervor he jumped to battle tossing himself almost on their weapons and swing his wide blade like a tornado of metal and rage.
The blade spun at unreal forces and all in the range soon found their body parts hitting the ground in a shower of gore, the once nice jacket and clothes that had defined him was now soaked in the lives of the many who would shower attacks on their home. Jean wanted to say something, anything to pull him out, but when he looked at her with those glassy eyes, it was almost as if he had already been lost, he was acting like it, and the only thing that had been left to do by the enemy was to do the job they left half finished.
His eyes had pleaded for her to let him die, for his body had already given up and he had darted off from his position clearing the line and moving forward to the front gate, and he had begun to carry the flame of his vision swinging everything on the path like a hot sickle. Screams of a destroyed soul had been enough for many to find the source and try to end the warrior and pulling the forces out of the city. Where she could want to cry, there was so much left to do, but in a brilliant column of flame many who had tried to attack was left nothing more then twitching ash and bone.
Jean was left in the square of the city with twitch dead bodies and enough blood that it would be difficult to separate Fatui from commoner, and warrior from spell caster. Sitting on the edge of the fountain she had the moment to see what was left before another rocking explosion had been heard far from the north of the city. She paled.
They struck the church. She had pulled the sword from where it rested and ran all she could to get to the church the smells of gunpowder and elemental energy and the hills were filled of skirmishes won and lost. Needing to beware of any surprise attack but as she spun from the church to see all that she could the scene of ruin was stronger then expected. Pulling the sword from the scabbard she willed the winds away from the wreckage and off in the lake crushing what small forces would be trying to make their way back up. In the wreckage was a familiar scrap of a sleeve, one she had found that was stuck under a heavy stack of rubble. Barbara and the injured were gone now and she could not find a single person that had survived the blast.
She had screamed has she came out of the bed, her sheets slick with sweat of a dream that had gone badly. It was a rarity, dreams so vivid one had to be careful. Understanding it as more of a blessing then a curse but it was also something that made sleeping a bit of a gamble, and made her not want to as much to sleep would mean a chance at whatever tortures she could conjure from the darkest depths of her imagination, and reading as much as she did, meant she was very knowledgeable about many massacres and tragedy.
Checking how her body reacted there had been some dings and bruises where she could not defend in her dream, but that was all easily covered with her normal uniform. Bruises would be sore for many days but luckily those dreams had not happened more then once a week. Her practice was going to be moved back a couple days and her duties in the city would be moved back while everything could be done at different times.
A loud sharp knock could be heard and Jean was almost kicking herself that she was found out so easily. Gazing down, her night gown was not so soaked with sweat that it was worth while and the cold air of the night helped shock her from the images of the burning wreckage that had been so shocking beforehand. Lisa was on the other side of the door and opening the door she had been sure by the first little splash of purple color that had been seen through the crack. Opening the door the Librarian had a few things in her hands and followed her in the small room pulling herself a chair before setting the tray down.
A journal was pulled out from it and a page opened while Jean explained everything she had seen and done, the witch of the purple rose being an intelligent vision user and a great warrior she had heard of the syndrome of vivid dreaming and what may have caused it in history. There was little that came with it but those who had those dreams would have to live them as if they were alive. Some would have to deal with injuries more serious, while some would deal with bruises and weaknesses.
Jean was smart enough to take care of herself even in dreams, but as Lisa had written down she was developing a bit of paranoia, which was to be expected. One cannot be on guard all the time without some side effects occurring and that had meant her body was getting pushed in places that bodies were not designed to be pushed to.
What could happen was at some point Jean could have a psychotic episode and snap under the stress, what was more likely would be her sister coming down from the church and locking her in her room for three days to rest up as needed, vivid dreams or no. Three people knew and not even the maid staff realized the meaning of the meetings and the sometimes muffled screams that came from her room at night. Jean could only hope as she thought of what some people may take from it, a lesbian tryst would be something much more explainable then what was going on and as a leader she would take it for sure.
Medication administered it would be about eight or nine hours that would give her some dreamless sleep, and enough of it for her work to not be done by a zombie wearing her face. All that could be done would be done but it was up to jean to make sure that as the acting grand master that she be in top shape for her knights, for her countrymen, and even for the friends she made in the time frame as acting grand master. It all meant she had to survive the dreaming world and the waking, and explaining the scenes as scientifically as she could there was a shudder Lisa could see.
Visions of loved ones dying were painful and when it felt like your fault it could be something some people could not get over. Jean had the strength to keep going when it all seemed to come down around her and hold up her title and her family name, she was proud of the dandelion knight, even when she had self doubt there was enough to keep going. Many battlefields would be much safer with a person like that at the helm, and when the original grand master returned Lisa would make sure Jean would get the recognition she deserved for the job that she did especially under the stressful times they all had to and was continuing to deal with.
It was not all bad for Jean would take those moments for new tactics and tricks, making any time she was on the field much more destructive in a shorter time frame. Some of it could also be seen in what she had brought from it to the castle in the world of the living. Making sure that the walls were cleared of any debris and checked for cracks, that the forces would be rotated by schedule and a few times a year by happen stance just so someone who may be paid to look the other way could not be given the proper real estate to make their extra coin.
Kaeya and Klee were often loaned out one at a time and only when someone else could stay to watch the city if the traveler needed multiple people, being so low in numbers had made it that each person would have to do more work to keep the whole city running smoothly and that was something dealt with as fairly as she could.
It meant to be much more taxing then normal dreams but one day after downing a gulp of water and finishing the description, she had learned to like many things take the worst of it as she could and use the experience to make herself a better warrior.