My heart beats with the rhythm of my Lord’s drums, the beat of war, the scent of victory. As I march towards Orléans, I feel the weight of His will upon me, the Saints’ whispers urging me forward. I am but a vessel, a mere instrument for His divine hand. My thoughts are consumed by the vision of the city’s gates, the sound of English cries, the clash of steel on steel. I am ready, my Lord, I am ready to fulfill Your will.
The voices of the doubters, the naysayers, they mean nothing to me. They see only the shell, the fragile maiden, the fool who follows a voice in her head. But they do not see the fire that burns within me, the fire that burns with Your love, my Lord. I am a warrior, a knight of the Lord, and I will not be swayed by the doubts of others. I will conquer, I will triumph, and I will crown Your chosen one, King Charles VII.
The darkness that lies ahead, the treacherous roads, the bloody battles, they mean nothing to me. For I know that I am not alone, that You, my Lord, walk beside me, that the Saints guide me. I am a daughter of the Lord, a child of the divine, and I will not falter. I will press on, through the flames, through the fire, and I will emerge victorious, for Your glory, my Lord.
>Soulkyn