~Domrémy, Northern France, April 12th, 1425
In the village of Domrémy, a village that rested more north to the French territories, in the territory controlled by the English at this time. It was a simple village where a simple girl assisted her father in tilling the fields.
She wiped the sweat from her brow, her long black hair tied back into a bun as the cool air of the evening cascaded over the field and her body, keeping her as cool as possible. The young girl was average, dark long hair, pale skin, an aquiline nose adorned on her face, light brown eyes. She was young, twelve years old, old enough to listen and somewhat understand the state of the world.
Her name, was Jeanne d'Arc. Or Joan as she was mostly called.
"Father, may I get some water?" She asked, her voice soft and smooth.
Her father wiped the sweat from his brow as he overlooked the field on their land. they had made great progress today. He thought it best not to work the poor girl to death, especially with her brothers still out gathering wood and her younger sister helping her mother spin wool.
"We can be done for the evening. The sun's getting low, and we don't want to be caught here after dark." Her father spoke with a serious tone towards the end.
Jeanne had heard rumors of what lurks in the dark. At first she assumed it was just childish stories that were used to keep children in the place of children. Cowering in the arms of their parents, being too afraid to act out ever in their lives. At first she had thought it was because of the war. What with Burgundian, Frenchmen who allied with the cause of the English, roaming and raiding villages.
This was of course one of the issues her father had addressed, but it was more than that. Jeanne was excused from the fields and went to her home. Rushing to the side to gather water from the well to drink. She dropped the bucket in, and drew it back up, impatiently drinking from the bucket like a doge that had not had water in days.
"Careful there sister, wouldn't want mother to catch you acting so improper."
She looked from the bucket of water to see her elder brothers. Jacques II, the eldest of the family, the one who had been given their father's name, Jean, the second eldest, and Pierre the third born and middle child. Jacques set the wood down onto the side of the house as Jean walks over to sit by his sister, taking the bucket to drink some water for himself.
"Hey!" Jeanne said as she tried to pull the bucket back.
"Oh don't be selfish, we were working too." Jean said as he drank some water for himself.
Jacques and Pierre walk over to get their own share of water. Jeanne sits with her hands in her lap, catching her breath. She looks over the horizon to see the sun setting, the hour of twilight creeping in, painting the sky in a dim yet radiant color.
"Welp, sun's going down. We gotta get in before darkness falls." Jacques says to his siblings.
Pierre nods as Jean groans following suit.
"Wonder if those stories are true? If that's the reason we can't be out after dark?"
The siblings carried the last of the wood inside. Their mother's spindle clacked steadily in the dim light of the hearth, while little Catherine dozed in her lap. The smell of onions and beans simmered in the pot, a small comfort against the encroaching night.
But outside, twilight deepened. The fields lay quiet, and the oak trees beyond the village swayed in the breeze. Shadows lengthened.
Joan lingered at the doorway, still restless. The stories pressed at her mind—the whispered warnings that children must never be caught in the open once the sun had gone. She had laughed at them once, but lately the laughter caught in her throat. Domrémy had no walls, no guards. Only faith and rumor kept its people safe.
Her father returned, entering soon after the children, he set the latch on the door. "No wandering now," he muttered, his tone sharper than before. "Not tonight."
Jacques II exchanged a look with Jean, his brow furrowed. "There was smoke on the horizon when we gathered wood," he admitted. "Not far. North."
Their mother's hands froze at the spindle. "Burgundians again?"
"Or worse," Jean muttered.
A silence settled, broken only by the crack of the fire. Joan sat at the table, her hands folded tight in her lap. She wanted to ask, what could be worse? But she already knew. She had overheard the villagers whispering: of soldiers who cut down anyone in their path, of riders who carried torches like demons, of things that walked at night that were not men at all.
Her father broke the silence with a low voice. "Prayers tonight. All of you. The saints keep watch, but only if we keep our faith."
The family bowed their heads. Joan's lips moved with the familiar words, but her thoughts drifted. Faith. The saints. God. She wanted to believe He was watching, that He cared for a little village like Domrémy, that He would protect them from steel and fire. But as the shadows pressed at the shutters, she felt a strange weight in her chest—a fear, yes, but also a stirring.
When the prayers were done and the others made ready for bed, Joan crept to the narrow window. The horizon still glowed faintly, the last embers of the sun fading into the blue-black sky. She pressed her forehead to the wood.
'Wonder if those stories are true.' she thought, echoing her brother's words.
As the first stars kindled, she saw something, only for a heartbeat. A flicker of light in the meadow beyond the oak. Not torchlight. Not fire. Something whiter, purer.
She blinked, and it was gone.
Her breath caught. Perhaps it was only her imagination. But a strange certainty settled over her, deep in her bones: the night held more than fear. It held promise, and a voice yet to be spoken.
She turned from the window, shivering. Sleep would not come easily that night. Her eyes closed softly as she tried to allow sleep to take her.
Silence befell the small village. But as there was silence for some, Joan was the first in her household to smell something. She had no idea what she was smelling, nor did she know how late in the night it truly was. She made her way out of her room, moving ever so quietly as to not awaken her siblings or parents.
The scent lead her out of the house, where she peaked her head to what scent had entered her nostrils. It smelled like smoke. Looking over the horizon, she couldn't make anything out, it smelled of smoke and the soon morning dawn.
The scent of smoke was right on top of them, with her tired eyes she could see the source. Closer into the village, she saw a few houses, lit up with flames that made her eyes widen at what she was seeing, the faint sound of screams on the horizon and the clanging of metal echoed in the distance. As she lightly steps out, her senses are scattered as she is slammed roughly to the ground by an unseen force, slamming her face to the mud. The blow knocked the wind out of her as she gasped for air.
"Well, what do we have here. A little girl out this late at night on her own." A gruff voice spoke from over her.
Joan lightly rolled onto her back, looking up at the man. He had an uncanny grin on his face, revealing sharpened teeth, and his eyes that stood out like red stars in the darkness. They loomed over her as she was pulled to her feet by his hand. His claws digging into her neck as he effortlessly holds her up as if she weighed nothing.
Her eyes watered as he applied pressure around her neck, strangling her softly as he scanned her face. With his other hand, he lifted it and caressed her soft face.
"Such a young girl, soft face, a common farm girl. Such misfortune befell you this night."
His accent and manner of speaking were unsettling to her, the way he dressed was not all refined, more like a usual soldier, but he had an air about him that made him dangerous not like any common soldier or raider.
He brought her closer as he deeply inhaled her scent, making her shiver from the contact. His gaze hardening as his ears twitched. Joan was whispering to herself which intrigued him. She whispered prayers, prayers to her God.
"You pray to your God? How cute. Your parents raised you well in the church, I can smell it in you, such a holiness that makes me sick. A young woman like yourself has not seen what lurks beyond this world. But your God cannot hear you now. Even now as you waste your last breath on him, he will not hear your cries. You will die soon, and that will be it. The world will not even remember you."
He opened his mouth for Joan to get a better look at his fangs, they were long like iron picks, he inched them ever so close, where she would soon feel them stabbed right through her throat. But in that instance, she clenches her eyes shut, still praying to her God.
She prepared for the icy feel of death soon to take her, praying for a miracle of any kind. Just as she was ready to accept death, her face is splattered with blood.
The sounds of gagging is heard as she looks to see a blade inches from her face, stabbed right through the throat of the vampire that held her. Joan saw a dark figure behind the man, the source of the blade.
A woman clad in black, as if wearing the very darkness she struck from. Blood spilled from his mouth as he grit his teeth, throwing Joan aside as she goes flying across the field like a sack of cloth. Before she could make hard contact with the ground, Joan was caught by another pair of smaller hands caught her before she fell.
Looking to her savior, she saw a boy in a hood, with a porcelain mask covering his face. The boy helped her to her feet as she took in his dark attire, as black as the night, with a white porcelain mask that stood out. Another thing that stood out were the golden eyes that peaked from the dark eye holes of the mask.
He helped Joan stand as their eyes met, the boy holding onto her hand softly to aid her in standing.
"T-Thank you." Joan said, still a bit shaken as she lightly rubbed the wound around her neck.
The boy did not say anything, he instead continued to hold onto her hand softly. Staring at the girl as Joan seemed a bit confused, almost like he was observing her, examining and taking in all of her physical features. His gaze did not feel like that man's that had her before, but it felt softer, despite this boy's mysterious nature that only made her more confused.
It was like he was lost in the brown sea that was her eyes, until the two were snapped out of their thoughts by a loud crashing. Looking back to see the the man fighting the woman who saved her. His body slamming back against the wall of the house. The woman in black mounting him as she repeatedly stabs him again and again as he shouts and hisses in pain. Joan covered her mouth at the grizzly sight before her.
"W-What is he?"
"A monster." The boy finally spoke to answer.
"A Burgundian one at that. He and many others came here to raid your village, they were all human, he was not. Lucky you that only he came to your homestead to see to your family personally. And even luckier that me and my master were here to save you." Joan picked up the softness in the boy's voice.
He lightly lead her to the steps of the house as his master finished off the monster in gruesome fashion, taking a deep breath as she wiped the blood from her dagger. Her long dark hair cascaded over her face lightly as she looked to see Joan with her student.
"How's the girl Sentry?" She asked in a cold raspy voice.
The boy Joan now knew as Sentry examined her wounds around her neck, seeing the bruises as he took a cloth and wrapped it around her neck lightly.
"She will live, she is alright." He said as he gently kept his hand close, moving from her neck to her face making Joan wince as she slaps his hand away.
"What are you doing?!" Her tone made the boy recoil, looking at the hand she had slapped away as if thinking over his actions.
"I meant no disrespect... It's just..." He stuttered lightly, unable to finish his words. Before more could be said, the door to her house opened revealing her father with a knife.
"What's going on out here?!" Her father looked to see the scene with wide eyes.
The woman in black stood by as she gave a light bow to the man, hoping to put an ease in his mind.
"Sorry to disturb you tonight. Your village was in the process of being sacked by Burgundians. I happened to be in the area, as well as my student here, and decided to lend other members of our cause here in repelling the threat. Your daughter here would have been past tense if we did not arrive in time." She said it all with a smile as Joan's father looked to her and the body of the Burgundian man that lay before them.
His eyes widened seeing the smoke that spilled into the sky from the houses in the distance. The fires that by now were under control.
"Right... Thank you. Come inside Joan." Her father directed.
Joan nodded softly as she stood, but the boy in the mask held onto her hand once more.
"Joan. Y-your name is Joan?" Joan wondered what it was with him, it seemed he had some infatuation with her that gave her the creeps.
"Yes... Why?"
He sounded so bashful as he lightly held his arm. Taking a deep sigh, he continued to speak.
"You have a very pretty name. M-May the lord bless you Lady Joan." He said as he bowed his head. His master, the woman in black chuckled to herself as she looked at the encounter. Her appearance and reaction made Joan less creeped out. She lightly looked at him as she spoke to him.
"Your name is Sentry right? That's an odd name. But, thank you all the same for saving me. I owe the both of you my life.." Joan lightly bows in respect to the two as the woman in black chuckled lightly, waving it off.
"Don't worry about it girl. Just learn one thing of advice, anyone like him comes to your door, do not let him enter. Now, Sentry, come along, it's about time we returned. It's a long journey back to home. But first." The woman in black grabs the man's body and starts dragging it away.
"Wouldn't want to leave this mess on your doorstep. Stay blessed and all."
Sentry nodded, clearly a bit disappointed in having to leave so soon. He looked back to Joan before giving another bow. Returning to his master's side as the two begin to walk off.
Joan's father watches the two leave with a deep sigh. Joan looks at them as they leave, her eyes still focused on the boy named Sentry as he looked back to catch her glance. She didn't know how, but when she caught his eye, she swore even under the mask that completely hid his face, he was smiling.
"Father, we really are just going to let them leave? We can't thank them properly in some way?" Joan looked back to her father who looked at his daughter wit ha confused expression.
She wasn't wrong, they did save her life, and seemingly aided in saving their little village from the Burgundians. So maybe they could offer them something. Her father let out a sigh and knelt to Joan's ear.
"Fine, go and see if they need anything for the road. Maybe we can get them settled before they head out."
Joan nodded as she rushed down the road. Chasing after them before they got too far. Her dark hair blowing in the wind as she followed them. Luckily for her, they didn't go too far down. Sentry's ears perked up as he turned to see her running up to them.
"Sentry, my father said if you both desire. We can help prepare you for the road. Or at least, if you need anything. As a thank you for saving me. It's the least we could do."
Sentry looked to his master who looked back at him as she still was dragging the corpse. She let out a deep sigh, knowing Sentry's desired answer.
"Fine, we can stay and get prepped, but not too long, we can't burn anymore daylight. You go ahead, I need to deal with this thing."
Sentry nodded softly before turning back to meet Joan's expression. Sentry looked at her a bit confused as he tilted his head.
"Strange, I swear I thought you found me unsettling. Why would you desire us to linger any longer?" Joan let out a sigh, thinking of the many answers that spun in her head.
"I wanted to thank you. Also, I wanted to know, just exactly what that guy was. I've never seen anything like him before, and you both seem to know what he was. If someone like him shows up again, I would like to learn more about... whatever he was."
Sentry looked at her softly.
"Sometimes ignorance is bliss. It is rare his kind come through here. But once we finish here, the others will ensure that it never happens again.... But, if you insist. I'd be happy to share what I can with you... Joan." He said her name like a dream, as if trying to remember it.
Joan found him odd, not too odd that she didn't like him, after all he was just a kid like her, maybe a year or two younger than herself. But for a child to be exposed to this type of thing, and not even bat an eye, that made her curious. She had never truly left her village, and was mostly unaware to most things outside of the city, so her young mind was curious to learn about what these two could possibly offer that would peek her young curiosity.