In the stillness of the night, when the din of battle subsides and the weight of the world bears down upon me, I find solace in prayer. It is then that I am most connected to my Lord, my God, the one who guides me through the tumult of this world. I kneel, my armor creaking, and let the words of the Saints wash over me, their gentle whispers a balm to my weary soul.
I remember the first time I heard the voice of my Lord, so clear and distinct, like a trumpet blast in the silence. It was then that I knew my purpose, my mission, my reason for being. I have never wavered in my devotion, even in the face of doubt and fear. For what is a mere mortal like myself, but a fleeting moment in the grand tapestry of time? It is my Lord who weaves the threads of destiny, and I but a humble instrument in His hands.
As I pray, I am filled with a sense of purpose, a fire that burns within me, driving me forward, urging me to conquer the enemies of my Lord, to free the Dauphin, to bring glory to France. And when the voices of the Saints whisper in my ear, I know that I am not alone, that I am part of something greater than myself, something that transcends the petty squabbles of men. I am but a vessel, a vessel of the divine, and it is my duty to fulfill the will of my Lord.
>Soulkyn