Revelation from Heaven
Wicked Dragon's Hundred Years War
Army of dragons clashed with the French soldiers, but despite the seemingly unfair battle, the soldiers were all bravely stood and fought the beasts. Cannons roared, and the shells crashed into the large bodies of those overgrown lizards. Battle cries erupted from the soldiers' throats as they channeled their valor into their blades and pierced the wyverns' hearts.
At the front, Gilles de Rais was furiously waving a certain battle standard to rally his army.
"Don't let them advance further than this field! French had cried tears of blood and it's our duty as Her sons to answer Her distress!"
He emphasized his shouts by jabbing the standard's pole into the ground and pulling his own sword. A lone dragon had broken through the rank of the soldiers and now was diving with its mouth open at the knight. Gilles saw the large target came and ducked just under its torso, quickly plunging his sword almost to the hilt at the wyvern's belly. With a surprising strength, he flipped over and threw the massive body with his shoulder.
More wyverns came toward him, and Gilles charged forward like a true knight of France.
From afar, a small group of people was watching the battle, not long ago fighting their own battle. It was small compared to the ones that would happen and had happened, but nevertheless it was a fierce battle where lives lost and grief made. Both sides had retreated from the battlefield, both had suffered a crippling casualty. Left behind in the chaos of war was a single battle standard.
Fujimaru pulled it out from the ground and examined it. It was a white flag with golden embodiments, but it had since blemished from its time in the battlefield. Tattered and stained with mud, pole rusting and bending and making sad sounds. It had seen a better day.
"Battle standard of Jeanne d'Arc." Artoria observed, "While this flag had inspired the people of this country, at the time like this, people would dread of seeing it fly. People trust Gilles, not the flag, when he rallied the army."
"But it's strange, isn't it? Why would the Dragon Witch 'Jeanne d'Arc' also seen helping the same people she terrorized? Are there two Jeanne d'Arc?"
"We don't know yet." Mash said, "Anything can happen when the Grail is at work here. The Singularity specifically ensure that the history would gone off the rail and will continue to be so unless we fix the focus point of the time pocket. Jeanne d'Arc had just been executed; it's obvious that the focus point had to be something to do with Jeanne d'Arc."
"Then we just need to make this flag a symbol of hope once again. Whether Jeanne d'Arc is good or evil in this Singularity, there's no denying that she's the one who pulled this country out of its troubled times."
Fujimaru weighted the pole and tried to wave it. She let out a low, awed 'wow' as she let the flag fly and the cloth made a rumbling sound from being blown by the wind.
"I feel like a real commander!"
"Senpai..."
"You're Jeanne d'Arc."
Fujimaru stated, not asking, at the young woman who had come across them. The woman was a radiant presence, but she was also a disoriented stranger to a familiar land. Just from a glance, it was obvious that this woman was a saint but when she was looking confused like that, she was just like an ordinary girl.
At the back, Artoria grumbled something along the line, 'she doesn't really look like me'.
"Ah, yes." Jeanne nodded, slightly relieved. "Are you... perhaps helping these people? I suddenly got summoned and-"
"Yes, we know. We saw something like this happened. The Holy Grail just randomly summoned Servants to fight in the war." Fujimaru said, "We're here to solve the Singularity."
"Thank you very much. More people fighting for the cause is always welcome. Though... I was wondering why the Frenchmen are wary of me."
The Chaldeans were exchanging glances before Fujimaru answered.
"We have suspicion, but it's still not confirmed. Either way, our goal is the same so why don't you come with us. Fighting alongside of Jeanne d'Arc, it will be such an honor."
Fujimaru then took the battle standard strapped on her back and gave it to the saint woman.
"Gilles de Rais left this in the battlefield in hurry, but I think this suits you more."
"Thank you." She took it graciously.
A holographic visual suddenly blinked to live. At the transparent screen, Dr. Roman said something but nothing came out of his mouth. But little by little, his voice came through, a frantic call worriedly echoed from his image.
"Ritsuka, Mash! Thank goodness."
"We really need to fix the communication transmission. The connection between the task force and Chaldea might get worse from now."
"How's your situation there?"
"We've eliminate a current threat to the populace, but I doubt it's even compared to the bulk of enemy force. Oh, and we met Jeanne d'Arc."
"Jeanne d'Arc!? Whoa...! She's going to be a really strong ally."
"Please don't talk like she's not here, Doctor."
"Ah, it might be the best to establish the Master-Servant connection with allied Servants. That way, you can provide a fast aid with Command Spell if the situation demands it."
"Understood."
Fujimaru turned toward Jeanne.
"How's that sounded?"
"I have no objection of the relationship." She offered Fujimaru her hand, "I hope we can work together well against this crisis."
Fujimaru accepted it.
She remembered the goodbye. She also remembered the reunion.
She knelt over Mash's shield as the light receded. In front of her, her Master stood. She stood there with her wounds barely healed. She stood there barely out of her hospital gown, bandages peeking under the clothes.
In her hand was a battle standard. When the time came for them to be separated, she gave the standard back to Fujimaru. An unspoken request was exchanged. Understandingly, Fujimaru nodded, and then took away the flag from Jeanne. Her body turned into golden dust, floating like fireflies, as she watched the Chaldeans were taken away by the light pillar shooting from under their feet. She had made true of her promise with this.
Jeanne smiled, almost tearfully.
"Servant Ruler, Jeanne d'Arc. I'm so glad that I can meet you."
Eternal Madness Empire
Though the stories of the Roman Emperors were quite... colorful, imagining that she would meet the arguably most infamous of them was not exactly at the highest list. Then again, there were Heroic Spirits that would like to meet their idols and living their childhood dreams. Chevalier d'Eon, for example, was sung the stories of Charlemagne's Twelve Peers by bards and troubadours in their entire life. How the Frankish fought bravely in the doomed battle against the Saracens and how Karl the Great was uniting the fractured French into Holy Roman Empire.
On the other hand, Nero was not her idol. In fact, she was the furthest of people she would like to call her idol. There was no Christian who does not know of the Whore of Babylon, and the impression stuck. Despite meeting the affable woman and how she treated the Chaldeans, she could not stop the slight prejudice levelled against Nero.
Nevertheless, it was easy to ignore the bad, when the good is very much right in front of you. Nevertheless, she still could not partake the decadence of the Roman Empire. The food was too large and the clothes were too small. Everywhere she walked, she always smell the scent of thickly perfumed silks and rose petals and see large statues of the Claudian Dynasty arrogantly posing in their armors and battle raiment, each more expensive than ten years' worth of her entire family's ration.
A simple peasant girl like her was intimidated by all the court graces everyone had to conduct – listening all of her titles every time she walk in a room was a harrowing experience, even if that large, looming presence was her own fame.
If the experience of leading an army was like seeing a giant storm looming from afar, then the price of being celebrated was like being thrown into the middle of the raging storm's path. Thrown around like a ragdoll, powerless against the strength (worship). How could God be able to take this heavy a burden? Expectations kept piling on until no one could ever see yourself under it. How many people remembered her as a simple, though devout, peasant girl?
She disliked Rome for that; their radiance were too opulent for her.
"Can't sleep?"
She whirled around and met a pair of amber eyes peeking from the darkness. Her Master walked up to her, her clothes wrinkled like she just had a fight with someone.
"No, I'm just not used with Rome."
"They're very fussy, aren't they? Don't worry. Tomorrow, we will hit the road again to fight at the front, if that's more of your liking."
"Yes, understood." Jeanne then observed her Master, "Shouldn't you in the bed also?"
"Ah, just a little problem with... a stalker. I'm planning to sneak in Lord Vlad's room, but guess I have some time to kill for now. Walk with me, Jeanne?"
Fujimaru offered her hand, and she graciously accepted. They strolled across the castle walls and watched the city below. Golden lights dotting the city as much as the stars in the sky. Buildings tightly packed against each other, snaking up hills with their white marble walls, and yet the greenery was mostly intact, protecting the city like a natural wall. Fujimaru sat on the wall, legs dangling over the edge.
"A very impressive empire, isn't it?"
Fujimaru said, her voice low. Jeanne shrugged absent-mindedly.
"Yes. It seems every European kingdom wishes to be the Roman Empire. France, Byzantine, Russia. While I don't understand the politics and ambition of the nobles, I understand their fascination about the idea of Roman Empire (united world)."
"Maybe it's better not knowing. There are times where we're happier that way." Her Master glanced at her, "So, how do you compare it to France?"
"It has a different kind of charm on it. More... opulent, so to speak."
"Really? I would say, it's more a rural kind of charm for me."
Jeanne vaguely remembered of the modern world, but then pushed them off as irrelevant. The place she was incarnated was a rural part of Romania, after all. She had never saw glass towers as high as the sky. She had never saw smog so thick, she could not see her own hands. She had never saw people so tightly packed, even in the battlefield, that as far as she could see was human faces – so many that they were nothing but formless, black mass.
Fujimaru mumbled out.
"When I see places like this, I grow to appreciate every single moment of it. Where I was from, I can't even see the stars even when I climbed the highest tower. I can't hear the sound of insects at night. I can't drink directly from the river. I can't meet with so many heroes (stars) more worthy of respect."
Jeanne tried to imagine her Master's life before Chaldea spirited her away. A high-schooler, fairly popular but not the queen bee, boredly looking out of her school window. Carried aimlessly by the stream, day by day waiting for something exciting happen – a person (nobody) whose bravery and virtues Fujimaru has was wasted on should she continued to live like that. She would graduate and worked as some wage slave in some corporation, before she marry a co-worker she just happen to take a love confession of. She would quit her job to be a housewife and then have two children. Then there was nothing else of her life afterward other than worrying about the household's tight budget.
"Do you hate your home, Master?"
"It's not 'hate', but it's not 'like' either. The point is, I love living in Chaldea. It feels like a dream, right? All these heroes, fighting together for the sake of the world, and you can get in the middle of it. It's so exciting, I don't think I understand just what kind of responsibility waiting for me here. The weight of the entire world is on our shoulders, and all I can think of is that I can be a part of this. Not just being a completely ordinary high school student with a completely ordinary life..."
Fujimaru sighed.
"I just... want to be a hero..."
It was a heartfelt confession. But Jeanne could not understand it. Because she wasn't like her Master. Because she had never thought of being a hero. Because she had never dissatisfied with her peasant life, merely picking up her standard because it was the right thing to do.
She had never thought of personal fame nor riches – precisely because of that, she was a saint. So holy, any attempt to corrupt her was fated to fail, only spitting out an inferior copy. But because of her holiness, she could not understand her Master's plight. A virtuous person, a kind Master, but nevertheless a human with faults. Thirsty of glory, greedy of excitements, indulging many sins, yet not despicable.
However, she held her tongue. Because she didn't understand, thus she had no place to lecture Fujimaru. She instead let Fujimaru's words hung on the air, hoping that Fujimaru would soon forget her self-loathing and instead remembering that she was with a friend, just taking a night walk in the city of Rome. A small respite.
Prison Tower's Howling Demon of Vengeance
It had been three days since the last Master of Chaldea went into a coma.
No, not coma. It was more like her mind was spirited away from her body, leaving her empty shell to sleep off the apocalypse that was the incineration of human order. Absent-mindedly, she moved Fujimaru's limbs as Dr. Roman had instructed. Sleeping like this would atrophied her muscles and as such, several people (preferably women, of course) would visit her room and take care of her needs.
She had never saw a coma person before, and now she had, she felt just how vulnerable Fujimaru was. Many were worried about the more... obsessed members of the staff, but it had never come to pass. Kiyohime, surprisingly, was docile and playing the role of 'devoted wife' to its purest, sincere sense. However, despite the languidity, people of Chaldea were all anxious. With no one to command the Servants to rayshift into Singularities, their mission was dead on the water. With the appearance of King Solomon as the mastermind of the incineration of human order and the deadline of its completion, there was just no time to stay idle.
She had an inkling of what happened to her Master. The moment their eyes met, her soul was in danger. Such heavy gaze had grinded even Servants' minds down, what would happen if an ordinary human do see it? They had talked about it, of course. When they climbed Ryougi's apartment, they already had a feeling just who was that shadowy figure. But the motivation, they still drew blanks. At least, until Fujimaru fell into a deep sleep.
The first day, Phantom of the Opera towered over her bed, talking to her body. No one could hear what he had said. He did nothing but talking until it was 5 am in the morning, only then he sulked back into the shadow. Or so Emiya had said. Mash was worried, and decided to stay on guard inside the room. But she fell asleep at 3 am, and at that moment Gilles stepped inside.
Everyone was on edge when they found out that Gilles could get inside the Master's room. Understandable, but still having her trusted comrade shunned was hurting Jeanne's feeling a little. But despite everyone's suspicion, he did nothing of that sort. He talked, just like the Phantom, about things. What things, she only heard hush-hush from the staffs. About how Gilles confessing of his sins to the Master's sleeping body. Her mind filled most of the details.
"The moment I heard the Maid of Orleans was executed because of petty political posturing, I lost my faith. Toward humanity, and toward God. If God is so merciful, then why would he do such horrible thing to such devoted a subject. To the very end, Jeanne d'Arc never blamed God for her terrible fate, but I wasn't as holy. Thus, I blamed God, I blamed humanity, I blamed myself, I even blamed Jeanne herself. There was no one I did not blame, and I lost myself in my grief. I had never saw the light ever since. And I care not to seek of it."
With his gnarly fingers, he caressed Fujimaru's face. Fingernail scrapping against her skin, but they left no mark despite their sharpness.
"But you... you let me see the light once more. You reunited me with the holy maiden."
From then, Jeanne had made her conclusion. When she heard that Fergus made his turn in the Master's room, she was trying to get a good sleep. One of the perk of the relationship between Master and Servant was their shared dream. She had never shared it with her Master before, fearing that she had too many to see already. But this time... this time she would not restrain herself anymore. She had made a conclusion that the Servants talking to their Master had somehow talked inside her sleep. Thus, the only thing she could do right now was waiting for her chance.
When she opened her eyes, she was inside a dreary dungeon.
She had experienced prison cell before, but this place was on a different level. Every breath she inhaled was accompanied by the scent of death. A place where you throw people you don't like and left them to rot, where the wardens were sadistic and the inmates were so full of despair. By comparison, the Burgundy's cell was like a luxury suite.
It was clear where she was. There was no Frenchman who did not know about this prison. Just like Alcatraz, just like the Devil's Island, it was a legendary prison from which a Heroic Spirit was born.
A sound of three pair of feet was heard walking down the prison hall. An orange light from a torch was seen trudging down the stone pavement, prying shadow from her surroundings. Accompanied by a pair of white-haired man and woman, Ritsuka Fujimaru looked inside her prison cell.
"Jeanne? Is that you?"
When she woke up from her sleep, it was 1 am. She immediately jumped out of her bed and dashed to her Master's room. Waiting for the automatic sliding door to open, she only saw Mash sleeping on the floor with a mattress spread and Fujimaru's unmoving body. Her heart fell, just a little bit. After all, she knew Fujimaru would not awake anytime soon.
She took a chair and dragged it beside the bed, taking a good care not to scrape the legs as to not disturbing Mash's sleep with the noise.
"Master?"
She tried. No respond, of course. But after meeting her in Chateau d'If, she noticed just how she missed her Master's voice. She wished to hear her answer.
"Everything is... fairly alright, I guess. But it's not the same without you."
She fidgeted, not knowing what to say. Just how the others handled it? Never had she thought talking to an unconscious person would be so hard.
"I hope you can hear me. Because I would like to ask you about many things. About you, about myself, about a lot of thing. When I saw you inside the dream, I wonder what made you think of me like that. In a way, I knew the reason already, but I want to hear it directly from you. Should I be so full of rage for my misfortunes?"
"But it wasn't fair, is it? After all, I've seen a glimpse of your life, just a little. And I've never talked about myself so it's only natural that you might misunderstand me. So, I'm going to introduce myself to you once again."
"My name is Jeanne, but in my childhood my friends called Tart. I was born in Domremy. You knew that, because you had visited the village."
She chuckled to herself, "I wasn't a remarkable girl, if I say so myself. I don't know how to be a knight, that's why I'm a standard bearer, and I'm not good at the frontline. Nevertheless, I still walk among the soldier as a morale support. My voice carried my countrymen through difficult times."
"Of all my comrades, Gilles de Rais was the most remarkable. He's not a born genius, but he was hardworking. And yet, he became a prominent soldier of French. Not using his weakness as an excuse, you're just like him in that regard. I admire you both so much."
Jeanne wrung her skirt. The next part would be very difficult.
"So that's why... I don't want you to misunderstand me like Gilles. I sympathize with the reason why he made my Alter, and I can't condemn his grief that spurred him into doing his crimes, but I would prefer if you don't end up like him. When people don't communicate with their loved ones, no matter how close their relationship, they would still make assumptions. That they don't love them back, that they don't appreciate them. Gilles' fall was my fault too. So..."
Her tongue was tied. Despite talking a lot about it, she still could not say it. Feeling it imprudent, she decided to end it there. Sneakily, she left the room only to meet Amakusa. He gave her that no-good-intention smile of his, and she narrowed her eyes. He fled without saying anything, and Jeanne decided to not pushing the issue.
It was the sixth day of Fujimaru's coma when she woke up staring at a damp ceiling.
"You're here too."
A voice called for her from the other end of her cell, and she didn't have look to know who it was. Amakusa stood from his bunk and walked up to the cell bar, hands clasped.
"I've been here before."
"I see." He said laconically, "That means you still have more things to say."
"I'll talk with her for as long as I like."
"Everyone would like to do just that."
"What do you want to say to her, Amakusa?"
"I wonder..."
"I guess talking to you is just an exercise of futility."
He chuckled a little at, "How harsh of you, Maid of Orleans."
A sound of footsteps was heard from the western wing, a little lonely this time. With a torch in her hand, Fujimaru's shadowed face came to view. Standing in darkness, with a tired face, she was a stereotypical ghostly girl you see in horror movie. Without Mercedes and King of Cavern flanking her sides, she seemed like she would disappear into the darkness if no one keeping watch on her.
"Hi." Fujimaru smiled, trying to push back the visible burden the prison had to her mental health. "I'm just visiting you before the inevitable fight we might have later."
"Does King of Cavern treating you well?"
She could not help but to ask. Fujimaru quirked her eyebrow at her.
"Do you think he's a bad guy, Jeanne?"
"Well..."
"If so, he's doing a bad job at it." She shrugged, "While I'm not surprised that he has something to do with me trapped in here but I will say, without any shred of doubt, that he has my well-being in his mind."
"Master, if you're that trusting, someone might come and take advantage of you."
Jeanne rolled her eyes at Amakusa's advice, knowing perfectly well just who this 'someone' is. But, much to their surprise, Fujimaru just chuckled audaciously at him. With a grin so unlike of her, their Master growled out a whisper.
"You think I don't know that?"
But as quickly as it appeared, that expression subsided into something they recognized. A wide smile, warm and casual, spread.
"If we just talk about it, then it should be alright. Isn't that right, Jeanne?"
She didn't know what to say, but it just spilled out of her mouth anyway. Things that she could not say previously burst out like a broken dam.
In the eighth day at 8 o'clock in the morning, Fujimaru finally woke up from her coma. Mash was crying non-stop for hours, hugging her sempai and not letting go. It was like the burden than weighted the entire Chaldea suddenly lifted and they had a party for the night. Food was abundant and entertainments laid out without end, but she would not have anything else other than her Master's voice.
Mythological North American War
Her Master still sulked inside the wagon, while the other Servants in the Chaldean party rode horses. Though it was obvious for a long time, but their Master's absolute incapability to ride a horse was nevertheless still a hilarious inside joke in Chaldea.
Jeanne lagged behind the wagon to at least help entertain her Master. Though the battle against the Celtic Army was exceptionally fierce right now, the journey between towns was pretty boring. American deserts were just like any desert; sand and stones and skeletons with dried air and carrion vultures stalking above their caravans. Not exactly the most exciting place on Earth.
Inside the wagon, Fujimaru absent-mindedly chewed on a dried jerky Billy had gave her. Because of the nature of Chaldea, the ideal foodstuffs for their ration are those that can be preserved almost indefinitely. Canned food became a common staples, and there were several ways people react to this significant decrease in food variety. Some gorging themselves with fresh foods and vegetables immediately when they have access to the markets in Singularities. Some, like Fujimaru, grew a taste for salted meat and pickled fruit. She especially liked roasted chimeras ever since Cu Chulainn hunted her one.
"Cooping yourself inside the wagon isn't good for your health, Master."
She tried to prod her Master. Fujimaru gave her a stink eye.
"And fighting in Grail War is?"
Jeanne chuckled, "Perhaps not."
"I want to ride a horse." Fujimaru whined. "I don't want you to carry me like some sheltered princess."
"Unfortunately, we don't really have much choice here."
"I'll ask da Vinci to make me a motorcycle. I can ride a bike, at least."
"If I have to choose, then riding a bike might not be a bad idea."
"Right?"
"Of course," Jeanne immediately cut her off, "It's not like we can ask da Vinci to make something on a whim. There are things like resource management that we have to think about."
"Jeanne, you killjoy. Can't a girl dream of riding a huge bike without you reminding me about over-budgeting?" Fujimaru said, a little upset, a little teasing. Jeanne grinned apologetically.
"I'm sorry."
Fujimaru was silent for a moment, before she said, "If da Vinci made me a bike, how about we take a ride together."
Jeanne blushed slightly at the offer.
"Be careful when talking about things like that, Master. Jealousy is a very real problem in Chaldea."
"Hm? Are you afraid of angering someone?"
Jeanne stared incredulously, but the way Fujimaru just casually said it made her think twice. Am I afraid? The answer should be a no. Not afraid, to be exact. More like hesitant.
But it wasn't the point. Fujimaru knew just what kind of Servants under her employ – asking whether one of those obsessed, jealous-prone, affection-thirsty scared her off from ever coming close to her Master...
"No."
"I'm glad then."
Fujimaru smiled until it was reaching her half-lidded eyes. Her lips slightly parted to show her teeth. An innocent look that was also alluring. Jeanne cursed whoever taught her Master.
"I-It's not like I hate any of the other Servants. And you should too. Not hating the Servants, I mean."
"You don't have to worry about that."
"Why are we having this conversation again?"
"What? You don't like talking nonsense with me?"
Jeanne gave her Master an annoyed look. Fujimaru's teasing face softened.
"Honest, I really like talking with you."
"... yes, so am I. I really like talking with you."
"Okay then." Fujimaru hummed, thinking out loud. "I know! Tell me what you think about God."
"God?"
At first, she was confused but she immediately understood what Fujimaru meant. At the Moon Festival, the Moon Goddess herself was successfully summoned even through a roundabout way. But even before that, there were Heroic Spirits that claimed descend from divinity that was not of Christian God. Even in this land that would become a great nation, sons of the gods from one of the oldest pantheon ever existed in the world had made themselves known. If there were so many gods, why her faith in her God is still unwavering?
"Personally, I believe in the interpretation that people interpret God in different ways. God is one, but how people think of God make the segregation between their religions. Devotion toward God always has the same conclusion – good moral. Even if King Gilgamesh defied the Sumerian Gods, in a way, he's a devout too because he laid the foundation of a great civilization and bring order to mankind."
"I see..."
She was puzzled at the question, especially since she knew her Master wasn't a particularly religious person. But later she found out why she asked that question. In fact, she now found out why her Master had a slight change in point of view ever since she fell into a deep sleep in Chateau d'If. No, it was even far more back then when Chaldea was trapped inside that apartment complex.
Ryougi was a woman who had avoid the incineration of Human Order by falling into a deep sleep. How that could be a method to be incarnated into a Saint Graph, no one knows. But in rare occasions, she would seem to turn into a different person. An airy, almost capricious person who would look into the struggle of the Chaldeans as amusing – a stark contrast with Ryougi's usual stand-offishness.
She had talked about the practice her family had; that every children in her clan had an affinity to develop split personality. But she also claimed that she had lost her 'twin' in an accident. If so, then who is that woman who would walk in Ryougi's skin?
Jeanne met her when she was taking a break from training. Though the Heroic Spirits' powers were spiritual in nature and would never diminish from disuse, having a good sweat was never a bad thing. She was watching Emiya and Cu Chulainnn had their usual (manly) spat when Ryougi glided into a spot beside her. The Chaldeans were already used with Ryougi's shift of personality, and everyone could already guess which Ryougi was in control. Ryougi was, for a lack of better description, a manly woman – you could immediately guess it from the way she walked. But her other personality was as feminine as she could get. Even disregarding her manners, one glance to her face was enough to see that almost absent-minded smile.
Indeed, Jeanne was staring at that smiling face as their eyes met.
"Pardon me."
And so she left as fast as she came. But even just one moment, when their eyes met, it was like the time had stopped and Jeanne was lost inside those eyes. Ryougi's eyes, dipping in and out of color spectrums and constantly changing, was strangely like a familiar view for her. In that single moment, Jeanne was reminded of the time when she heard God's voice.
Domremy was a small village. In the outskirt of the village was a field where farmers were working which, at harvest time, golden wheat was visible as far as she could see. She often walked among these tall golden miniature forest and thought to herself. The war was slowly closing by her home. When English soldiers are walking on this field, there would be no more Domremy. Every day, she would pray to God so He would spare her family and friends.
One day, God spoke back, and the rest was history.
She had never questioned her faith, and she would not start to question it now. However, it would be a lie if she didn't have at least a small curiosity. 'I want to see my God,' she would think. I want to thank Him properly, in front of His face.
When Jeanne stared at Ryougi's eyes, it was like she had met God.
And she knew that her Master was also thinking the same thing when she first met Ryougi (「 」).
Author Note:
It seems you dear readers are impatient to see your favorite character, but unfortunately I will not write the chapters based on request. Instead, I'm writing the chapters based on the release of the Bond CE. The reason is so the characters have several events and storylines to develop their relationship with Fujimaru and the other Chaldean Servants to tell the story of. So, those who request the chapter for Iskandar and Wu Zetian, sorry but it will take a while to get there. I promise to write faster from now that I have a lot of free time at the moment.
Also, I'm not writing the alternate version of a character as the base Servants are numerous enough as they were. As of Ereshkigal, there are 141 different Servants already. So Alters, Lilies, Prototypes, swimsuits, alternate classes, and Carmilla will never have their own chapter, but there will be allusions from their corresponding base form. So, I'm sorry for those who are disappointed with the arrangement.