06-28-2016, 12:05 PM
As something ends, something begins.
And like many times before, she had brought the Holy Grail War to an end. The rules were not to be broken and the task of enforcing them, fell upon the Ruler. She already knew, it was her time to return to the Throne of Heroes, to slumber until the Grail had need of her services once more. In the darkness she could feel the lethargy settling in, the slumber slowly claiming her being once more. The Maiden lamented how her blade was forced to end the war abruptly, sending her to the day she had met her end once more.
La Pucelle, the french dream. The strongest of noble phantasms, yet one that claimed its user in exchange for unimaginable power. This was what had been granted to Jeanne d’Arc for her faith. Her consciousness fading, the girl in her final thoughts extended a prayer, her words of gratitude to her Lord. Not a day went by, where Jeanne d’Arc would not offer her thanks.
A speck of light lit itself within her consciousness. The veil of lethargy begun to escape through her limbs as her heart began to pump and life burned through her body as it took over once more.
Jeanne did not know how to process the sensory overload provided by her newly awakened senses, opting to simply lay there, wherever there happened to be in. Hyperactive as they were, her senses ran through their course of newly found vitality and eventually begun to settle, reducing the weight of the information produced from them alone. It was then that the Maiden was capable of considering what was and what was not. It certainly had not been a normal summoning, with how she was torn from her lethargy at the Throne of Heroes without warning.
But such thoughts were disregarded as it gradually began to dawn upon Jeanne that her body felt chilled, that she was laid upon something solid and cold. The light she saw must have came from beyond her shut eyelids, and even then was unlikely to be anything larger than perhaps a stray of morning sun. Such was the deduction of the maiden.
Whatever had chained the girl’s eyelids shut seemed reach the conclusion that she was ready, as her eyes slowly began to open, her vision first blinded like that of a newborn’s, before settling and displaying her a chandelier hung a few meters above her. The light she had observed earlier reached her through the stained glass windows painted in the form of the Lord’s angels and Christ. It dawned on Jeanne that it was a church.
She was home.
And like many times before, she had brought the Holy Grail War to an end. The rules were not to be broken and the task of enforcing them, fell upon the Ruler. She already knew, it was her time to return to the Throne of Heroes, to slumber until the Grail had need of her services once more. In the darkness she could feel the lethargy settling in, the slumber slowly claiming her being once more. The Maiden lamented how her blade was forced to end the war abruptly, sending her to the day she had met her end once more.
La Pucelle, the french dream. The strongest of noble phantasms, yet one that claimed its user in exchange for unimaginable power. This was what had been granted to Jeanne d’Arc for her faith. Her consciousness fading, the girl in her final thoughts extended a prayer, her words of gratitude to her Lord. Not a day went by, where Jeanne d’Arc would not offer her thanks.
Quote:She was taken in her slumber at the Throne of Heroes to the Omniverse, and as such doesn’t remember anything from Omni’s introduction. She has however, received it and gone through the standard introduction.
A speck of light lit itself within her consciousness. The veil of lethargy begun to escape through her limbs as her heart began to pump and life burned through her body as it took over once more.
Jeanne did not know how to process the sensory overload provided by her newly awakened senses, opting to simply lay there, wherever there happened to be in. Hyperactive as they were, her senses ran through their course of newly found vitality and eventually begun to settle, reducing the weight of the information produced from them alone. It was then that the Maiden was capable of considering what was and what was not. It certainly had not been a normal summoning, with how she was torn from her lethargy at the Throne of Heroes without warning.
But such thoughts were disregarded as it gradually began to dawn upon Jeanne that her body felt chilled, that she was laid upon something solid and cold. The light she saw must have came from beyond her shut eyelids, and even then was unlikely to be anything larger than perhaps a stray of morning sun. Such was the deduction of the maiden.
Whatever had chained the girl’s eyelids shut seemed reach the conclusion that she was ready, as her eyes slowly began to open, her vision first blinded like that of a newborn’s, before settling and displaying her a chandelier hung a few meters above her. The light she had observed earlier reached her through the stained glass windows painted in the form of the Lord’s angels and Christ. It dawned on Jeanne that it was a church.
She was home.
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