Dust flew off the ground with every step the girl took. Her blonde hair blew back against the wind while her own frantic breaths filled her ears.
The screaming of the townsfolk pained her heart, but if she didn't keep running, she might find herself facing the same fate as them.
She wanted to help, to do something, anything, but what could she do?
"Please, help them…"
Only one thing could save them. Neither a man, nor an army could help the people of Domremy in this moment.
Despite her father's words, she stopped.
A moment of hesitation.
"I can't help them… But…"
She paused.
"No… I must help them… Even if I don't know how, I will find a way."
Both hands clenched together as she stuttered forward.
"Being there is enough! I can help somehow!"
She kicked her foot against the ground again.
Staring back at her home, partially covered in flames and fully covered in smoke, the girl clenched her eyes tightly for a second.
"People are hurt… People are dying!"
Her body trembled slightly while a bead of sweat ran down her face.
"They need someone, anyone!"
The girl looked to the sky for a moment.
A part of her wanted to keep running, to escape the carnage of the raid.
"I-…"
If she couldn't help, going back would end up doing nothing.
"I have to…"
Taking a step towards the village, Jeanne let out a panicked breath.
Smoke filled her lungs as she charged into the village, houses all around Jeanne smoldered and crumbled one after another. The screaming of the villagers was still audible, yet it had died down compared to when the anarchy had first started.
She weaved through alleyways and ducked behind rubble, searching for anyone left alive. A villager's body would be found every now and again, but not enough to explain the silence.
"Most of them must have fled, good…"
She continued on deeper into the city.
A group of men chatting echoed over a wall. Jeanne placed her hands on the top and lifted herself just high enough to peek over.
Soldiers, few in number, conversed amongst one another while carrying bags, presumably of food, in the direction Jeanne wished to head. Their weapons, bloodied with the remains of any villagers who had gotten in their way, made the young french girl sick to her stomach.
She gagged at the thought of what fate her fellow townsfolk must've met.
Ducking back down, Jeanne continued squirming her way through the town.
The smoke grew thicker as her breathing grew thinner. Her hand quickly covered her mouth, a desperate attempt to stop inhaling the fumes.
The church, standing untouched by the carnage, stood tall in the center of the town. Over a dozen villagers lay on the bare ground, dozens of cuts and stab-wounds covering their figures.
Jeanne grabbed at her chest, heart aching, yet refused to go near the corpses.
Only 4 soldiers lay on the ground with the civilians.
The first had a pitchfork pierced through his head.
The second man was lying on the ground with his own arm feet away, covered in a puddle of blood.
A third soldier sat against a wall with a blade piercing his heart, blood trickled from his chest onto the dirt below.
The final soldier, covered in a pool of blood and bits of flesh, face caved in, and dismembered beyond recognition, was sprawled out along the center of the road.
A fifth man laid across the final soldier on his side with a spear embedded deep into his shoulder and a penetrated leg, which was still pouring blood.
Jeanne stepped closer and knelt behind the man.
"Ah… Why am…"
She reached out to touch him.
Brown hair hung just below his eyes, light armor that seemed pointless, and a slender build.
"Sir Knight…"
A tear ran down her cheek.
She swiped the hair from his eyes and peered down at his face for a moment.
"You only lasted a day…"
Was this her fault?
A frown creeped across her face.
Jeanne put her hands together and mumbled a quiet prayer over the young man's body while shutting her eyes. Another tear escaped her face, it dropped to the floor with little sound.
She opened them and grabbed his hand. Her expression was full of sadness.
"It's warm…"
Jeanne jumped slightly.
Her head reared down to his. She pressed her ear close to his mouth.
Shallow breathing escaped the knight's lips.
"Sir Knight…?"
Her expression softened as she pulled the young man off the corpse.
His body wasn't light, yet she could manage.
Jeanne smiled softly while standing, dusting her legs off before readying herself.
"Oi, I found another!"
She froze.
The burning buildings and corpses were the last thing on her mind now.
All her worries were eclipsed by the sound of an English voice behind her.
Jeanne attempted to turn but was quickly forced into the dirt by a foot against her back.
The dust now puffed into her face, clouding her vision and leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.
"Wait!"
Jeanne turned over and raised one hand to the man, while the other held her steady on the floor as she backed towards the unconscious knight behind her.
"Please! Take what you want and go! Leave us out of it!"
The man looked down at her with disgust.
"No."
His sword raised high into the blackened sky before flying down towards the girl's neck.
Jeanne clenched her eyes shut tightly and forced her hands above her head.
Nothing.
She slowly looked up.
"Sir Knight…?"
The young man, still leaking blood with each movement, stood between Jeanne and the attacking soldier. With his blade in hand, he desperately held back the blow from the soldier.
The soldier looked down in shock at the young man.
"What the hell was that…"
His blade yeilded as the knight stepped forward, causing the soldier to pace backwards. With a quick step, the soldier's leg was swept out from below, causing him to fall to the ground.
Jeanne quickly stood up and grabbed the knight's arm.
"Don't!"
She could hear his heavy breaths growing weaker and the painful wheezing growing louder.
"We need to go!"
Another set of footsteps echoed behind the girl.
"Go where, little girl?"
Her body was quickly shifted behind the knight as another blade came crashing down.
The knight's breath hitched as he defended yet another heavy blow aimed for Jeanne.
"I didn't need your help."
The first soldier had stood back up and resumed an offensive stance.
"We can't lose more men to farmers, so be grateful."
Both soldiers rushed forward.
Jeanne attempted to move, but her knight gripped her shoulder firmly.
He stepped towards one soldier, slamming his blade into the man's own, before pulling Jeanne closer and clashing with the other soldier.
She felt as if her father were teaching her to dance. Each movement the knight made brought Jeanne farther from the nearest blade, while bringing himself closer to parrying it.
One after another, the knight countered each attack, positioned Jeanne in a safer spot, and prepared himself for the next part of the assault. The dance was working, but the knight's movement was limited.
Within a minute, he was barely able to move Jeanne out of harm's way.
The knight forced himself between each cut or stab aiming for her.
"STOP!"
She begged.
The knight did not reply. His dance carried on, bringing all of them mere feet from a wall as cut after cut bombarded him.
Jeanne saw another soldier, wielding a bow, positioning himself in the distance to take a shot.
Before she could speak, her body was lifted into the air and over the wall by an immense force.
"SIR KNIGHT!"
Jeanne fell on the opposite side, tumbling a few feet while listening to the echoes of metal clashing with metal.
The wall separating them was easily larger than any wall Jeanne could scale alone.
She beat furiously on the stone.
"SIR KNIGHT, GET OUT OF THERE!"
None of the men replied, their only response was the clashing of metal growing more intense by the second.
"PLEASE, RUN!"