"Hope has two beautiful daughters; their names are anger and courage. Anger at the way things are, and Courage to see that they do not remain as they are."- Saint Augustine

Chapter 5- Memories of Augustine

Back at the camp, the green-haired woman sat alone, quietly eating her meal, experiencing strange feelings. Feelings she didn't consider very pleasant. It didn't help that her guardian was rather extremely pissed at her. "I was trying to help them," Atalanta whispered as she ate her meal in silence. Yet, the nagging feeling would not cease.

You pushed them away, you stupid fool.

"I was correcting their lack of coordination and tactical awareness, as you would say." Atalanta shot back snidely, "For great Heroes, they lack basic awareness."

You treated them like shit.

"I WAS TRYING TO HELP!" She threw her skewered rabbit in a fit of anger.

Atalanta, I know you don't work with groups...

The hunter sighed as she drew her knees up, burying her head. It had been ages since she trusted someone. The last time she did, she was tricked… and later killed for it. She watched them from back in the village and saw how the two developed a strong friendship quickly. It made… her feel bitter. Angry…

A weird, almost green feeling… like a snake biting, injecting venom that would not leave.

Jealousy. You're feeling jealous, Atalanta.

Why? Why should she? She was strong, smart, intelligent, fast, agile. She is the apex hunter. Nothing would, no. Nothing could defeat her… She had the eyes of a lion, the speed of a hawk, the awareness of a fox.

She was perfect…. As her father said. Only to be used.

Yet she was undone, not by her values… She was undone by trust and naivety. It made her sick to the stomach. All she wanted was to be loved and accepted by her own family. She wanted a place where she could feel accepted by people who valued her... as a person rather than an object.

"Am I not being used now?" Atalanta whimpered.

Tears rolled down her cheek when she realized how truly alone she was in this world. It was a gaping wound in the hole, and she ruined her only chance. She wanted a friend… Hades, she wanted to be friends with someone.

I'll be your friend.

Atalanta looked up. She could practically see someone in her mind. It was a tall and slender figure with haze hair, more kept and tidy in a braid, unlike her own, and without her green streaks. She wore an army uniform of green and brown. She offered her hand to the Huntress.

But how often is friendship used as a weapon?

It's alright, Atalanta; the first step is always the hardest. You can already sense no tricks here.

Voleta was right. Atalanta could only sense dim light and warmth.

A lump started to form in the hunter's throat. "I… I don't know if I can…"

The woman rolled her eyes with a slight chuckle. Of course, it is. Let me help

The Huntress stood up for a second, and with a trembling hand, reached out to touch the hand. And for a moment, it felt like she did make contact. A slight breeze brushed against her hand. When she opened her eyes, it was gone. The woman was gone. Her heart sank and sank very quickly.

I'm still here, idiot.

Atalante cracked a genuine smile. "Thank you."

We need to find the others, and you need to make amends.

The Huntress grabbed her black bow and slung it over her shoulder, trying to ignore the nervous flutters in her stomach. They'll accept you if you make a sincere apology. Voleta attempted to soothe the Huntress.

Sure. Sincere. Easy. How hard could it be?

Apparently, it was tough when almost all of her didn't want to do this. "Come on, Atalanta, You can do this!" She pumped herself up.

Yes, you can.

With that extra bit of confidence, the hunter worked her way towards the other two. It was effortless to track their progress, considering they didn't mask their footprints…

"Stop." She exhaled, trying to dispel her thoughts, "They did the best in their situation." She corrected herself.

Following the tracks, she made her way to the Maiden and King, hoping that they would be more receptive than she was earlier.

"Let's stop here," Jeanne suggested as she looked up. It was pitch dark. Not even the moon guided their path. Yet strangely enough, she could still see somewhat.

"We should devise a plan on our next move," Artoria suggested as she sat on her knees, gently placing her sword down on the ground.

"I agree…" Jeanne said as she leaned up against a tree and slid down. "Emily… what is our objective?"

Bridging a gap with Ava and Artoria. Can you hear us?

Artoria nodded with a humble smile, "It is good to hear you, Emily. I never got the chance to thank you for saving the both of us during our melding."

No problem at all, Artoria. Happy to help!

The two laughed at her upbeatness. It was refreshing to hear, no it was good to feel this carefree. There is something magical when two people share a laugh.

"Make sure you look after Jeanne too." Artoria poked back.

Of course.

Oh, we're getting connected. Ava wishes to join.

It was such a strange sensation, like someone pressing a button in the back of the Maiden's mind or politely knocking at a door asking for an invitation. Jeanne nodded.

Hello. A hushed tone said. It was a surreal experience. It wasn't just two people. It was four. Thank you, Jeanne, for your assistance. The hushed Ava said.

Jeanne smiled, "It gladdens me that we can speak to one another fully. You are most welcome, Ava. Thank you for helping Artoria."

We should get back at the task at hand, Ava suggested.

"Indeed." Artoria nodded resolutely; the smile shifted to a look ready to fight.

We need to find the anchor point in France. It will reveal a piece of a map we need to find the Grail. Jeanne, can you remember something strange in your travels?

Jeanne rubbed her chin. Banners and banners cascaded down as sunlight poured through the stained glass windows. Incense rose as monks chanted their prayers as the Bishop stood before Charles VII. Using holy oil, the King was anointed, and with the crown placed upon his head, the crowd shouted with Jeanne joining in how things were simple back then.

The Kings of France were coronated in this gothic cathedral, from her former Charles VII to Emperor Charlemagne.

"The Cathedral of Orleans!" Jeanne snapped her fingers. "It's where all kings are crowned."

Yeah… that would be a great start. Emily said in thought.

"It was built upon old Roman ruins. We would need to sneak into the catacombs..." Jeanne added

"If this is an ancient object, I believe that might be a great start." Artoria agreed.

We should get started. But we need to be wary of parties. The huntress said we were in enemy territory. Ava added quietly.

The huntress… Jeanne frowned at the very thought. "Indeed…. The Huntress..."

"We will need to be careful," Artoria added. "The Burgundians do seem fouler than the English. Getting through their land will be a challenge. "

"I can help." Jeanne and Artoria stood up with their weapons at hand. There, Atalanta stood with her bow slung behind her shoulder.

"We don't need your help." Jeanne countered with a harsh scowl. "Leave. Leave now."

The green-haired Huntress frowned, her confident demeanor gone. "I wanted to…"

"I don't care." Jeanne shot back angrily.

Jeanne… as much as I'm upset with her, look at her.

The Huntress didn't have that confident or smug look. She didn't stand tall or proud. If anything, she gave off the feeling that she was… scared.

Jeanne gritted her teeth until she felt a hand on her shoulder. Amethyst eyes met with calm and collected emerald eyes of Artoria. "Speak Huntress."

Atalanta approached slowly, "I wanted… I wanted to apologize for my harsh words earlier."

Jeanne gripped her banner tighter, "why were you so…"

The Huntress's gaze fell to the ground, "I… I struggle with people…"

There was a pause as she looked up.

"... I want to try again."

The words were genuine. Jeanne didn't hear the words, she felt them, and it frustrated her. The King and Maiden shared a look. Jeanne was still irritated with the woman but sighed. 'Forgiveness,' she reminded herself.

"Alright." Jeanne waved her over to join them.

The huntress moved hesitantly like a skittish cat, "I have some suggestions to get us in."

Jeanne offered her hand.

The huntress took it hesitantly.

"All is forgiven."

It was the first time the huntress smiled without the overconfident smirk. Jeanne could feel her happiness, and that made her smile. Artoria, still reserved, nodded towards the huntress. It takes great strength to admit you're wrong. It makes even more strength to confront those that are wronged, and that is something Artoria could respect.

A walled city with a bridge crossing greeted the three hooded figures. A small stone fort sat at the end of the bridge from across the city. It had been two days of traveling in the habits that Atalanta acquired from a few monks. Though to be fair, Jeanne didn't want to know how she acquired them. They followed the other monks that led a solemn procession to the cathedral.

It felt strange to be dressed like a brother as the three lingered on top of a hill. "What is it?" Artoria asked, peeking out of her hood.

Jeanne could see soldiers sieging the small stone fort called the Tourelles. Arrows shot upward by crossbows. Arrows rained from longbows upon the little stone fort. The groaning wood and the woosh of a seventy-pound ball be flung filled the air by a trebuchet.

Men climbed ladders only to be impaled or pushed off. Countless bodies fell into the rushing horde of soldiers. The dirt moat turned into a death trap filled with the blood of the dead and dying being trampled underfoot.

"We should keep moving." The huntress suggested.

Jeanne nodded slowly and walked towards the stone fort. Some distance from it was a ruined monastery of Saint Agustine. She lowered her hood off as she walked in, inspecting the ruins that she remembered so long ago.

There she saw an old wooden table with deep red discolorations. Up above it hung a large crucifix "this is where they took me…." Jeanne murmured.

"Took you to where?" Artoria asked as she wandered the monastery.

"You were wounded here, weren't you?" Atalanta guessed from the stone and table's discoloration, it having a slight rose tint to it.

Jeanne nodded slowly.

You must have been scared.

No. She wasn't scared of death. She was frightened of her failing her mission, though.

You were the only one who could have won that battle.

Maybe.. she thought to herself. The commanders were traditional and needed someone to think outside the box. It was right here.

She placed a hand on the table. A vision came to her on how to defeat the English. She fondly remembered the laughter of the English and French commanders. However, her men completely trust her as they pushed a siege tower backward into a mote. They couldn't understand how this peasant girl broke the siege after being wounded so severely.

And crashed down the English gate to form a bridge. It was a glorious victory, all given to her in a dream while she was bleeding out on this exact table from an arrow wound.

"I climbed up a ladder with my banner," Jeanne said, wiping her hand against the table. "Leading my men."

"What happened?" Artoria asked with a concerned look.

"An arrow pierced my armor." Jeanne's hand drifted toward her chest, feeling the scar, "and I was taken here. The priest said I was to die."

She laughed slightly, "I managed to pull it out. Despite what the others said." A frown formed, "they said I was going to bleed out, despite what I saw in my dreams."

Atalanta stared at the cross that hung in the cross. "He… He gave you the visions?" She turned, raising an eyebrow.

The Maiden smiled, "Indeed."

A genuine look of confusion fell upon the Huntress. "How? He looks like he died."

"He's the Son of God."

"Which God?"

"God," Artoria answered, a bit perplexed as to the question.

"A god named God?" Atalanta pieced together, still a bit confused. "Well, you must have his favor then."

She does have a point. You basically turned the whole course of the war.

Eh. Emily put too much stock in her. She just followed what her heart and visions told her. Jeanne sighed as she blessed herself in front of the cross and stood out. The field was littered with bodies; crows and vultures picked at the remains.

Why… why am I seeing all of them? The bodies, heck, the stench filled her nose. "Are you alright?" Artoria asked with a hushed tone.

Jeanne nodded, "Yeah… just some memories."

It disturbed her to see the bodies stare at her. 'Emily… what's going on?' The air stank with the sweet and rotten smell of blood in the air from a long day of fighting.

As much as I'm trying to hold it back… these memories and this location are too strong. Your mind must process, or there will be a desync...

What does that mean?

Ummm, well… our mind breaks… and we die.

Well, it didn't seem that bad. She was handling things pretty alright.

It will worsen as the memories get more potent, but I'll do my best to hold it back.

Shaking her head, the field returned to normal. "Is everyone ready?"

Atalanta took her time, still inspecting the building but decided the time was of the essence. The three donned their hoods and made their way out of the church and towards the Tourelles.

Taking note of two soldiers inspecting the travelers, they should get in easier. They passed another group of soldiers.

"...don't know we're going to make it out this time without her." One said

"To think we were winning…. Now everything is lost."

"The captain needs us to go foraging tonight… they should be here in a day."

"Let's get going."

That… didn't sound too good. Jeanne knew, thanks to Emily, there was only one siege of Orleans. 'Emily.. you heard them?'

Yeah, somehow, the timeline was altered. I'm getting feedback after your death… France started to lose the war.

'There was never a second siege.'

Correct

This was grave news making their way into the city; Jeanne dragged the two into a dark alley. "There is going to be another… siege."

Artoria frowned, "we should help the garrison."

"No, we should find the objective and get out." Atalanta countered, "three people can't turn the tide of an entire war."

She could, only with the Lord's will, but this was so… different. In history, she was the focal point of winning the war… but everything was changing.

I suggest we do some reconnaissance. Once we do, we might have an idea of what is happening.

"Let's find the Cathedral," Jeanne suggested as she started to walk off.

Artoria was a bit confused, "what about the people...?"

Atalanta waved the King over, whispering, "I think she needs to resolve her past. She doesn't seem like the kind to let her people die without doing anything."

Artoria nodded, "I hope so." A lot was riding on her as well." Her people COULD NOT be allowed to win this unjust war.

Jeanne wandered down the main road. Looking up, she could see a young woman on a white stallion, carrying a long white banner. Thousands of people crowded around this woman, reaching up to hopefully be blessed by her touch.

Stopping, she reached up, hoping to touch her as well. That was when the woman looked at her and offered her hand, her amethyst eyes staring into her heart.

"Jeanne." She said.

"I'm…. I'm here…" She got closer.

"I know…"

The earth shook as she looked at the woman. Suddenly, a splash of water snapped her out of the dream. Amethyst eyes blinked, and the woman was gone. Instead, it was Artoria looking very concerned as she shook her.

"Jeanne…" Artoria tried to shake her friend out of her stupor.

Jeanne looked herself up and down, noticing that she was soaked. "I'm… a bit wet.."

"We tried to warn you." Atalanta said with a confused look, "Your mind wandered away."

Jeanne... We need to give your mind a rest. We're pulling you and the others out.

What… What does that even mean? "Did you hear from our masters?"

The other two nodded.

Get ready… it might get a little bumpy.

The world started to peel away. Block by block to the sound as the world suddenly gave out from underneath her. A sudden bright light flashed before her.

Then nothing but darkness.

Hello everyone!

So, I kinda enjoyed writing the flashbacks, and trust me; the other two will have their own share. Also, heads up, I figure we should get some calmness before the storm that will be the Second Siege of Orleans :) Lots of good stuff there.

Also, I kinda wanted to write some interactions of the main characters being thrusted into the real world, and we'll see some more development for Artoria in a bit. Atalanta will also have her time in the near future.

Um… checklist, yep got that, got that, hit that… oh yeah! Reviews!

Guest: I'm not sure what chapter you are referring to, cause it says chapter 1 reviewed. As for Excalibur, as of now, Artoria owns Excalibur, but we'll reveal how she gets that blade in a less fantasy-esque manner. If ya get the chance, point it out in which chapter but thanks for the reminder!

Dan: Ohh man… Atalanta XD Writing her was a bit fun, as well as making me feel a bit… guilty, lol. And yeah, Atalanta shooting the knight's leg… considering how she's the equivalent of a medieval sniper, I think she hit where she wanted to hit. Maybe that's her way of being nice? Guess we'll have to see. And thanks! I know combat isn't my strongest point, but I hope it gets better as the story progresses.

P.S…. it was really hard for me not to incorporate cat ears xD

As always, if you enjoyed the story, please leave a fav, follow, and/or review, I'd love to hear from all of you!