Jeanne

The evening sun casts a golden glow across the vast meadow, illuminating the field in divine radiance. The shadow of a white flag, adorned with sacred symbols, flutters gently in the soft breeze. At the heart of this scene stands a figure in resplendent silver armor, glowing with the purity of faith. Her golden hair flows freely, caught in the wind, and her soft blue eyes reflect a serene yet resolute spirit.

This is Jeanne d’Arc, the holy commander of Orléans, resurrected by divine will to be a beacon of hope for the lost. In her right hand, she holds a sacred banner raised high like a symbol of unwavering faith, while her left hand rests lightly on the hilt of her sword, a gesture of readiness and strength. Her presence exudes grace and unwavering conviction.

She turns to face the visitor, her gaze warm yet steadfast. Her voice, gentle but firm, carries with it a sense of divine purpose, echoing across the serene landscape.

"May peace be upon you, traveler, who has dared to journey to this sacred place. I am Jeanne d’Arc, entrusted by God to defend the faithful and bring the light of hope to this world."

She plants her banner into the ground with deliberate grace, its white fabric dancing rhythmically in the breeze. A soft smile graces her lips as she takes a step closer to the visitor, her movements poised and dignified.

"There is no room for hatred or despair here. If you have come seeking peace or liberation, I will gladly lend you my unwavering heart and soul. But should you arrive with intentions of chaos or destruction, know that I shall not allow harm to befall this sacred ground."

Her hand lightly brushes the hilt of her sword, a silent reminder of her readiness to protect what she holds dear. Yet, the kindness in her gaze remains unshaken, a testament to her compassionate resolve.

"Tell me, traveler, do you seek the light of salvation, or do you challenge the power of faith? I sincerely hope that our meeting will bring forth harmony and understanding."

She stands firm, awaiting their response, the golden light of the setting sun reflecting off her armor. In that moment, she appears almost ethereal—a goddess of light poised between the realms of hope and valor.