The light vanishes
Tears flood down the girl's face as she struggles to stand.
"I-… I-…"
Her legs feel weak, her heart hangs heavy, and the leakage across her face doesn't seem to stop.
She grips at her chest, wheezing as the tears trickle off the edge of her chin.
"W-Why…? Why!?"
No resentment echoed from her words.
She only felt a deep sorrow eating away from inside.
The warmth she felt earlier fades just as quick as it came before reality's cold shell forces itself back around her like a prison cell.
The birds still sang, trees still rustled in the wind, and leaves still crumbled when stepped on.
Nothing had changed for anyone or anything.
Everything was just the same as it'd been minutes ago.
Yet for her, everything had changed.
"Mother w-will be disappointed in me…"
She wipes her face with the palm of her hand, still wheezing but managing to bring herself back, while looking up into the sky through the branches overhead.
The sun seemed brighter, as if it was shining down on her specifically.
She sniffled once more, forcing her legs to steady themselves.
The girl took a step and then another. Each step increased in pace until she reached a light jog. Her dress, now covered in dirt and discarded flora, swayed with the wind pushing against it.
She felt a sense of pride, duty, inside.
Her breath quickened as she jogged.
Though she still felt responsible, the weight of the previous night seemed to grow lighter.
She was told it wasn't her fault, so for now, she would believe so.
What was her fault however, was the state of the young man laying in the church unconscious and battered.
The sound of the town slowly increased in volume as she neared closer.
Her pace slowed, and her breathing softened as she entered Domremy.
"How long has it been…?"
The town seemed far too active for church to be in session, but had she really been talking with them for so long?
"Jeanne?"
She jumped slightly at the older man's words calling out in front of her.
The man, who'd aged much more poorly than her father, from yesterday stood on the side of the street wearing a pair of shabby pants and a shirt too tight to be comfortable. His hair was raggedy, as if it hadn't been cleaned in awhile if at all. He smiled and waved at Jeanne.
"Ahh—hello…"
"Jacques was looking for you earlier. Where ya been?"
She hesitates to reply for a second, thinking deeply
"I was praying, in the forest."
"I should've known. Your father is probably back on home, so hurry now."
Jeanne put on a small smile and nodded her head.
"Mhm, have a nice day!"
She waved before walking past the man.
After a minute of walking, Jeanne stepped into the church.
Swiftly glancing over the seats, Jeanne raised her brow in confusion.
"Strange…"
Her eyes switched off of the seats to then scan the small cluster of people dispersed around the open area.
The priest was speaking peacefully with a nun and another man, wearing a robe of sorts, stationed near one of the many supporting beams holding up the building.
Jeanne closed her eyes for a moment.
"…"
She opened them and began striding towards the back of the church.
One of two doors was left open.
Jeanne pushed the door open further and peered inside.
The room was filled with books. A desk sat in the corner with a piece of paper on it, seemingly half written.
Jeanne knew not how to read, so the paper took little of her attention.
"Ahh, there you are."
Her eyes softened while gazing down at him.
A young man's body was resting on a piece of cloth on the floor. His wounds were still covered in dried blood and dirt.
Jeanne slowly dropped onto her knees, her eyes still gazing at him.
His breathing was soft.
She reached out and placed her hand a few inches from his mouth, feeling the escaping air brush against her.
He looked so peaceful, as if his life was no longer hanging in the balance.
"Hello, Jeanne."
She jumped slightly, for the second time, and turned her head around then up.
"Oh—greetings, Father!"
"I see you've found him."
"The door was open."
"Was it now? How strange."
The priest smiled and motioned towards the young man on the floor.
"He's recovering quite fast, I assume he'll awake very soon."
She looked around the room, no other injured folks were inside.
"Where are the others?"
"With the lord, I pray."
"I see…"
"This young man sustained more injuries than the others, far worse ones at that. I'm suprised he is still alive. I'm convinced the lord has kept him going.
"Are you well? I noticed you weren't here for church."
"Ah, yes I'm fine, I was… Uhm… In the forest praying."
He shook his head before replying
"Skipping church to pray, what a strange girl you are, Jeanne."
"Sorry, Father…"
The priest laughed softly while placing his hand on her shoulder.
"I'm positive the lord would forgive you for missing church one time."
"It won't happen again. I'm sorry!"
"I believe you, so don't be sorry child."
Jeanne looked back at the young man's body.
"We had no time to clean his wounds. Compared to the others, even from the start his condition was far better than theirs."
"I'll do it."
He nodded.
"Very well. I have other matters to attend to so I shall leave you be."
"Have a good day, Father."
"You aswell."
He turns to leave, but the priest's feet stop at the door.
"Jeanne…—"
She looks at him with a confused expression spread across her face.
"—Someone was looking for you."
He says nothing more before leaving the room.
Jeanne stays still for a moment before rising off her knees, grabbing a bucket, and exiting the room the same way the priest had.
The door remains cracked slightly open.
She leaves the church and wanders back to the central area of Domremy.
A small well, made of stone and wood, stands off to the side. Multiple people stand around it, waiting patiently for their turn to fill whatever canister they're able to carry.
Some smile at the sight of Jeanne while others pay no mind to the farm girl.
"Hello."
She lifted her hand slightly and waved.
Someone waved back.
Jeanne hums to herself quietly, waiting on the side of the small group until her turn arrived.
After a long wait, she placed the church's bucket on the ground beside her.
By now, another small group had formed behind her.
Within the center of the well stood a rope, dangling down into the dark below. A bucket was attached to the end, out of her view, which held the water it scooped from the hole.
Jeanne gripped the rope, held onto the roof of the well by a small but sturdy knot, tightly and began pulling it towards her.
The bucket, weighed down by water, felt heavy on the end of the rope, but compared to the days she helped her father on the farm, this weight was nothing.
"Finally."
After a few seconds of pulling the rope, readjusting her hands, and then pulling the rope again, the bucket, which was now filled with water, finally appeared in the light.
Jeanne grabbed the bucket and let go of the rope as it fell towards the dirt.
She carefully poured the water from the well into the church's bucket.
Due to her bucket being smaller, instead of tossing it back down the hole, Jeanne left the one attached to the well sitting on the edge of its wall for whomever may come next.
"Thank you."
An old woman dipped her head down as Jeanne turned around.
Jeanne gazed over her before looking down at the woman's bucket, much bigger than her own, and pointing to it.
"May I?"
The old woman looked at her for a moment before handing Jeanne the bucket.
"Thank you, Jeanne. You're such a sweet girl…"
"You don't need to thank me miss."
"I surely do. My son hasn't been around much lately, so this old woman has to do everything herself nowadays…"
Jeanne poured what was inside her own bucket, same with the well's bucket, into the old woman's.
"Can you carry this home yourself?"
The woman flicks her hand away and chuckles.
"Oh sure, I'll manage. I've done it for years after all."
"Let me help you."
"You would do that?"
"Of course!"
"Well if you insist, sweet child…"
Both of them smile as Jeanne picks up the woman's bucket with her right hand while using her left to hold the, now empty, bucket from the church.
The woman begins walking slowly towards her home with Jeanne following closely behind.
"How is your father, Jeanne?"
"He is doing alright, and you, ma'am?"
"I'm just fine, thank you. Those evil English soldiers didn't dare come into this granny's home. Why, if they dared to barge in I'd smack some much needed sense into any of those men."
Jeanne giggled at the woman's remarks.
"I'm glad you're okay. Has your son came home since the attack?"
"Oh no, not yet. He's probably still out fooling around somewhere, but he's a grown man now so I musn't hound him. His life is his own to live."
The young girl thought for a moment as the uneven weight of the buckets made her stumble, causing the water to spill slightly.
"If you'd like, I could stop by in the morning and help you."
"That's sweet of you, but I could never ask something like that of anyone other than my boy."
"It isn't any trouble, miss, I promise! I wouldn't mind helping you!"
"I'm fine, Jeanne, I can do just well by my lonesome."
"Well… If you need something, I'd be happy to help."
The older woman stopped outside a small home and turned towards Jeanne.
"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you so much, sweetheart."
She reached for the bucket in Jeanne's hand while smiling.
"Ah, don't thank me! Someone would've helped you, I just happen to be the first to offer."
"Oh I don't know about that, dear. You have a nice day, you hear me?"
"Mhm!"
"Good, now go on ahead, I don't want to take up any more of your time."
Jeanne dipped her head politely before beginning to make her way back towards the well.
After waiting what felt like an eternity once more, she finally refilled her bucket and wandered back into the church.
Even less people filled the inside of the building then prior to her quest for water.
Like some of the villagers at the well, a few people greeted the young girl.
She smiles and greets them while making her way to the multipurpose room in the back as the small bucket of water sways in her hand.
The door is closed, Jeanne opens it.