Author's Notes: This is not as edited as I'd like it to be, unfortunately. Also it is over 10,000 words. I'm sure you'll dock me accordingly for both ;). I also did my best to research Joan of Arc and the other elements of my story, but if I got anything wrong, let me know (I'm sure you would anyway). For better or for worse, here's my story. I don't think it will, but I hope it doesn't offend anyone. Not recommended for devout Christians, and I do portray Joan in a...different way. You'll see.
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A spider web of cracks made their way across Alicia’s vision, followed by a tremendous jolt that threw her against the seatbelt. For a moment, she thought that her shattered vision meant she was somehow going blind; that instead of her sight slowly fading, it was cracking and falling away. But it was just the windshield, and the shards that were falling out of the frame and into her lap revealed a frightening, intimidating form beyond. The moment was slow as the thickest, richest maple syrup, and it took her what felt like several moments to figure out that the form beyond was a huge, gnarled oak tree. It took her even longer to realize that there was a sharp, twisted piece of metal sticking through her abdomen.
There wasn’t any pain, not like everyone always said there would be. In fact, as she looked down at the spreading crimson spot on her blouse, she wanted to laugh. Why didn’t the airbag deploy? It wouldn’t have mattered, I know, but it still would have made me feel better…I think. She giggled slightly, and winced as the action triggered more loss of blood. But it didn’t hurt, and that was just…funny. She felt like she had butterflies in her stomach, like when she sat nervously in those hard, plastic chairs at the middle school dances and hoped that whatever boy she had happened to have a crush on at the time bypassed all the prettier, more popular girls in favor of her. And every time that boy had passed by without even seeing her, her heart had sunk, and all those fluttering insects were instantly put to death with the toxic chemical of disappointment.
Now her vision really was fading, and the strange giddiness was gone. The butterflies had been killed yet again, and this time they would not be mysteriously resurrected. The fact that she was dying truly hit her for the first time, and with it the pain. Now it hurt enough to make up for the earlier lack of agony, and more. But it only happens to someone else, not me, she thought wildly. As if to contradict her, the flow of blood gushed harder. There must be some mistake… but that must be what everyone thinks before it happens, she realized.
The weight of her body sagged against the seatbelt once more, and Alicia realized that she could see herself. So it really does happen this way, she thought as she stared dreamily at her dying body. A flash of white exploded in front of it, knocking the dead weight of the body backward and smothering it in voluminous folds. The airbag. Son of a— was her last thought before an invisible lasso pulled her spectral form backward, like a safety harness on the most frightening roller coaster imaginable. For just a moment, she passed through her body, and the experience was one in which she would never be able to describe, of being both dead and alive at the same time; to actually inhabit a dead body.
Darkness enveloped her as the invisible forced pulled her through the ground, and she felt a moment of reflexive suffocation and claustrophobia, but soon passed as she remembered that she was already dead. The darkness was left behind, and replaced by a dull gray color on all sides. She could feel her speed increase, and wondering how she could feel nauseous if she didn’t have a body. Maybe my brain still thinks that I do have a body. But I don’t even have a brain…so what is doing the thinking? What- what am I? The realization brought terror to her. What was she now that she was no longer alive, and what was going to happen to her? She had never been even remotely religious; had never paused to think of the afterlife or what happened after death. It had all seemed to so…unimportant at the time. As a secretary for an important and egocentric lawyer, she had always had files to locate, people to call, clients to keep track of, and always there was something to type up. She had been a devoted follower and zealous acolyte of the almighty Computer, a worshipper deep in prayer at a Desk in an Office, the holy house of her god. It appeared that she had not chosen the correct religion.
The gray had been turning slowly to bright, blinding light. She tried to turn her spectral head, and succeeded only a little. She tried again, realizing that the speed was confusing her motions, and the fact that she could move at all confused her more. She tried again, and this time was rewarded with a view of what she was headed towards. The force was pulling her towards a wall of black stone bricks. There was no beginning or end to the wall, it stretched far beyond her limited view. She felt another pang of terror as the wall drew closer at a terrific speed. Alicia was pulled through the wall and back into existence, of a sort.
A jolt of energy shot through her body, making it arc into the air. With a gasp, she fell back to the ground. The first thing she noticed was that it was hot and dark. Then she realized that her eyes were closed, and opened them slowly. Angry orange and red flames engulfed a large object a few feet to her right, and it appeared the walls of whatever structure she was in were also aflame. I’m in Hell! That was her first thought, and it didn’t completely leave her mind until after the events that followed her unexpected rebirth.
Through the smoke and haze she heard the clang of metal on metal, and was soon able to make out two figures a short distance away locked in a struggle. She squinted, trying to see the fight better. Are those swords? One of the figures abruptly shoved the other one backward to fall on the ground, and the fallen person’s sword skittered away across the floor and into a cluster of flames. Alicia got to her feet quicker than she thought she could, realizing in a slow, just-waking-up way that the fallen fighter was in trouble. She tried to run towards the combatants, but almost fell down in the attempt. Having learned her lesson, Alicia started to carefully limp over.
The fallen fighter was a young woman that looked like she was anywhere from twenty-three to twenty-seven, she saw. She was pretty even with her jaw clenched in determination and fear. Her soon to be killer looked male, but was too hard to see well in the glare of the flames, and the figure's back was turned. Alicia hardly realized what she was doing as she spotted a fallen piece of wood that had splintered off of one of the ceiling beams and picked it up. The triumphant figure appeared to be talking to its fallen opponent, but Alicia couldn’t make out the words. She walked closer, aware that she was able to move easier. In a few seconds, she stood directly behind the menacing figure.
She paused for just a moment. She really didn’t know what this was about, or why these two people were fighting. She didn’t know who was the “good guy” or even if there was one. But this man, and she was now certain that it was a man, was about to kill an unarmed and defenseless woman, and that wasn’t right no matter how one looked at it. She lifted the piece of wood, inadvertently grunting with the effort. It had been heavier to lift than she had thought it would be when she had dragged it over. Now the figure began to turn toward her, and she hurriedly swung it, turning her head away as a reflex of those who are inexperienced in the ways of violence. She heard a thwacking sound, and heard a body hit the floor. She turned her head back around, afraid to look at what she’d done. The figure was on the ground, now facing her.
It was female after all, all though if it weren’t for the feminine curves of the face she wouldn’t have been able to tell. Her body was clothed in thick, threadbare shirt that betrayed the gleam of chain mail underneath. Blood was trickling from her scalp, and there was a minor laceration on her cheek, but she did not look all that injured. Alicia was torn between relief and terror at this discovery, but also a little embarrassed that her attack hadn't done much. The woman snarled, and then spoke to her as she got up.
“So you survived after all, Huntress? We’ll have to change that. This time, I’ll make sure you stay dead. I’ll roast your mutilated body over—“
“That’s enough.” The young woman Alicia had saved had snatched up her opponent’s sword, which had fallen when Alicia knocked her down. She now pointed it at her antagonist’s throat, her hand shaking only slightly. “You’re the one that will die today, Hellion. Your crusade ends here.” The other snarled again, an action more bestial than human, but she backed away, not willing to argue with the point of her own sword.
Alicia heard a crackling noise, and thought that at first one of them had stepped on something, but realized that the noise was coming from above them. She looked up at the last moment as one of the flaming ceiling beams came down right between the two opponents. The force of the impact knocked the woman with the sword to the ground, and she lay motionless while the building continued to smolder. The other woman started to advance on her, but took another look at the building that was about to collapse any moment and thought better of it. She turned and ran toward the door. Alicia turned back to the woman on the ground, and knelt by her. She lightly slapped her face trying to bring her out of it. She thought briefly about a bucket of cold water, but laughed humorlessly as she looked around.
On the other side of the room, another ceiling beam gave way, sending sparks into the air. Alicia tried to pull her up, and grimaced. She weighed far more than she should for a slim girl of average height. Alicia pulled the girl’s left arm around her shoulder, and held it there as she stood up, supporting her weight on her shoulders and back. A short distance behind her, another flaming beam fell to the floor, taking half of the back wall with it. A flaming splinter of wood shot out from the mess and grazed the unconscious young woman’s right arm, drawing blood. Alicia hurried forward, doing her best to haul the unconscious girl with her.
Alicia barely noticed what lay outside the building as she stumbled out of it, she only cared about getting herself and her now semiconscious companion away from the deadly structure. She coughed, and stumbled forward, putting more distance from the building. She did take in the fact that there were other buildings around her, that she was in a city if sorts. She also noted somewhere in the back of her mind that the area was deserted. There were no firefighters or even rubbernecks, only the bright, hot sunlight on her already overheated skin, and buildings gleaming in the haze. She found a shadowed area beneath an awning of one of the buildings a safe distance away from where they had exited, and carefully lowered the girl to the ground. She then sat down heavily, and wondered how much damage had been done to her lungs. It can’t be too bad, she thought. I don’t think I’m going to d- Oh God. I am dead. But how am I…still alive? She shivered suddenly, despite the heat. Where am I? She looked down at her body, realizing for the first time that she did not look and feel like herself. What- Who am I? That other woman called me Huntress, as if that was supposed to mean something to me. But I’m not a huntress, I’m just…I was just a secretary.
The sounds of the girl groaning and sitting up interrupted her thoughts. “Huntress, you’re alive! What happened? Is Hellion defeated?”
“I- I-“ she gulped, and started over. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not who you think I am. At least, I don’t think so. Where am I? Who are you, who is Hellion, and who am I supposed to be?” The girl looked down for a moment, then looked back at her. There were tears in her eyes.
“I guess it makes sense, then, with everything else happening.” She paused, eyes downcast in disappointment. “Artemis really is dead then, or maybe not... I thought that you- that she had proved to be immune to Hellion’s power. I am Athena, and you, or the body you wear, belonged to Artemis, the Huntress. Hellion…she is the woman that I was fighting back in the temple that her and her followers were torching. She is the only person with the power to kill gods and goddesses, and she has been abusing that power since she arrived here. She calls herself the God-Slayer.” The woman laughed hollowly.
“But how am I here? I’m dead. I died back in my…world, I guess, and then found myself here. Is this the afterlife?” She stopped abruptly in realization. Artemis…Athena…those names sound familiar. “Ancient Greece…” She looked around, and then laughed. “Impossible.”
“I don’t know. Strange things have been happening since Zeus left us. It is as if his very presence kept the reality of our world intact. You say you came from another world?”
“Not another world, exactly, now that I think about it. I guess…I came from the future.” She laughed again. “That’s a sentence I never expected to say.” She paused. “If this is Greece, then how can I understand you? I don’t speak Greek.” But even as she spoke, she realized the words that were coming from her mouth were not the language she knew, but she understood them anyway. The afterlife sure was weird. Maybe this was all just a dream, and she was lying comatose in an intensive care unit somewhere. She smiled a bit. “In any case, you don’t speak like any goddess I ever imagined.” Athena looked down at the gash on her arm.
“I think the reason you understand the language is because you are in the body of the Huntress. It may also have to do with your perception of the world, but I’m not a goddess any longer, in any case. Hellion has destroyed my immortality by inflicting this wound. She can turn a deity into a mortal with one successful strike, which is why she has been winning this war. Had you not been there to drag me away from the building, I would have died. I owe you my life. What is your name, then?” Something about what Athena had said bothered her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
“Alicia. Damn, this has been the strangest day of my life. And the last day of my life, now that I think about it.” She couldn’t quite get her mind around that particular concept, and so tried not to think about it. She would have to deal with her death at some point, but now was not the time.
“That is a strange name. Alicia.” She fell silent, thinking.
“Why is the city deserted?”
“I evacuated as many people as I could when I heard that Hellion was on her way here, but not everyone wished to leave. Some wanted to die with their city in a last stand against Hellion and her crusaders.” Athena hung her head. “They were brave souls, to die for their city and their cause. This city is Athens, by the way, and I am, I mean was, the patron goddess and guardian of it. Hellion’s followers spare neither mortal nor immortal, and had things gone as she planned, she would have destroyed the city. But I think that when she saw the body of Artemis rise again, she was afraid that you were immune to her. So she and her followers outside fled without destroying my city.” She sighed in misery. “Olympia still burns as we speak. I fear Zeus was the only one able to destroy her, but by the time he returns we will all be destroyed.”
“Why did he leave, if it caused so much chaos?”
“He didn’t know it would cause such problems, at least I don’t think he did. But the reason is rather vague, something I think only he really understood. He said that he had found a crack in the wall, and that he needed to leave. I have no idea what wall he was referring to. There are a great many walls around, and quite a few of them have cracks in them.”
“A crack in the wall…when I…came here, I saw something. I guess I was just a spirit at the time, and I was traveling at an incredible speed through…I don’t know where it was. But right before I found myself here, I was hurtling toward a wall of infinite proportions. I can’t describe it, can’t even really conceive of it, really.” She paused. “But that isn’t to say that Zeus can’t. Perhaps he saw the wall where no one else could, and wondered what was beyond it. Then he found the crack in it, and left to explore.” Athena looked as if she understood little of what Alicia had said.
“Does that mean that Zeus is where you came from?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I just realized something, though. This is another world, not just the past. In my world, the gods and goddesses of Greece were just myth, not reality. People created the stories of Zeus as an explanation for lightning and thunderstorms, because they didn’t know any better. But here, all those legends are real.” Alicia paused in confusion. “When did Hellion come to this world, or is she native? I doubt that she's a native here, since there was no one named Hellion in the myths that I know of.”
“It began with the fire at the Oracle of Delphi. No one knows whether the Oracle was Hellion’s first conquest, or whether…” She stopped, and looked directly at Alicia. “The reason that I was not so surprised when you told me that you were not Artemis is because of my theory on how Hellion came to be here. At first I thought that the Pythia— Prophetess,” Athena stated, seeing Alicia’s confused look “had survived and gone insane. But there was something wrong, something that couldn’t be explained by insanity. The voice of Hellion is different than the Pythia's, harsh and commanding instead of lilting and high-pitched. From the moment you spoke, I knew that you were not Artemis, and I knew the same about the Pythia. She was not simply mad, something had taken control of her. She was raving about heathen gods and heretics. Soon after, she began assembling her army of rebels, and began to kill the most prominent gods and goddesses as if they were no more than lambs for the slaughter.” A sudden thought struck Alicia, a possible connection as she thought back to the events in the burning building.
“I was impaled by a piece of metal from my car when I drove it off of the road.” Athena looked blank. Apparently, statements referring to objects that didn’t exist couldn’t be translated. “Never mind. I was impaled by a piece of metal. And both you and Hellion thought that I should have been dead. How did Artemis die?”
“Hellion stabbed her.”
“Both of us were killed in the exact same way, and perhaps at the same time, at least as it is relative to both of our worlds. Maybe instead of dying, Artemis and I switched places. Maybe that means that she’s alive in my body, just as I’m alive and unwounded in hers.” Alicia hesitated, thinking. “Tell me about Hellion. If she is from my world, or my time, or whatever, she doesn’t sound like a normal person. There’s something vaguely familiar, but I can’t figure it out. Who gave her the name Hellion, the gods and goddesses or Hellion herself.”
“She called herself Joan, or Jean, something like that. No, it was Joan of Arc, I remember now. I forget who it was that came up with the name Hellion, it might have been her. But the name stuck.” Alicia had turned pale. “What’s wrong, Alicia?”
“Oh God. No, it can’t be. Does she hear voices?”
“I’ve heard rumors that she occasionally talks to people who are not there. Something called saints. How did you know?”
“Joan of Arc is from my world, and she was burned at the stake. The Pythia burned to death in a fire. That was Joan of Arc. I hit Joan of Arc with a piece of wood.” Alicia was practically whispering. “But why? She was such a courageous leader, a heroine that people still look up to. Why is she trying to destroy a civilization? Oh, sorry Athena. You have no idea what I’m talking about.” Alicia briefly explained as best she could who Joan of Arc was. Most of her explanation translated all right, but Alicia had to skip over a few things. She also briefly outlined the ideas of Christianity.
“So they worship a man on a stick? Hellion’s killed thousands of our people for a man on a stick?”
“No, well, yes, sort of. I was never really religious, and neither were my parents when I was growing up. There’s more to it than that. Christianity is a big thing in my world, and it was to Joan as well. The saints were revered figures in Christianity, and Joan claimed to hear them in her head. She was responsible for many victories of her country before the enemy captured her and burned her at the stake,” Alicia finished her somewhat lengthy explanation. That was the best Alicia could do without going into France, Britain, and the deeper and more confusing parts of Christianity that even she didn’t understand. “But I still don’t get it. The Joan I read about in the textbooks wouldn’t have done this. She wouldn’t have killed innocent people and destroyed a peaceful civilization.” Athena was silent, deep in thought and still trying to absorb all this new information. Finally, she spoke up.
“I think we need to confront Hellion, and stop this madness once and for all. If Hellion is who you say she is, then we can find out the answers to your questions. I was hesitant when I believed that she was an immortal with power to kill gods, but if she is just a crazed mortal from your world, then I think it’s time we did something.”
“Didn’t you say she has an army? How do we get past them?” Alicia barely comprehended what Athena was saying. It had been a stressful day to say the least, and she just wanted to sleep for about three days. Athena gave a weak grin.
“Remember, her ‘army’ is a group of former followers of me and the other gods. The betrayed us, and that means that they fear us at some level, even if Hellion has tried to extinguish that fear. We just need to intimidate them.”
“And how do we do that?”
“Simple. We dress up.” Alicia stared at the mad, deposed goddess, and waited for here eyes to open and to see a doctor leaning over her, telling her everything was going to be all right. Perhaps one day she could tell everyone about this crazy dream she had when she was almost dying…but she didn’t wake up. Athena was still sitting beside her, waiting. Alicia shrugged.
***
Hellion shoved the double doors of the temple outward, and strode out of the temple of the heathen goddess. Trying to make cowardice impressive and intimidating, are you? Saint Michael remarked in her head.
She need not have finished them off and risked her life. The fire will no doubt take care of both of those so-called “goddesses” remarked the gentler voice of Saint Catherine.
Whether or not she is a coward, she still should have finished them off. Athena is a dangerous enemy, even as a mortal. And Artemis came back from the dead. She could be immune. Responded the voice of Saint Margaret, the last of the trio of saints that offered their guidance to Hellion.
“Impossible! There is no such thing as immunity when it comes to the holiness of Christianity. The wound must not have been fatal,” Hellion responded to the arguing voices.
But you impaled her through her vital organs. There is no way she could have survived that without resisting your divine gift. Chided Saint Margaret. Hellion clenched her jaw and thought about this, while still standing on the marble steps of the Temple of Athena.
Joan, spoke Saint Catherine. Joan did not respond, still deep in thought. Joan!
“What?”
They’re staring at you. Joan snapped her head up, for the first time noticed the crowd of her followers surrounding the steps. All were silent while she communed with herself. But now they began muttering to each other. She cleared her throat, and addressed the crowd.
“Hear me, fellow Christians! The voices of God’s chosen Saints have spoken to me. Our enemies here are vanquished, and the holy beings that speak with me say that soon we will have cleansed this land of heresy. It is then that we will be chosen to ascend beyond this cursed place with its misguided, false deities. The Saints have decreed it!” The crowd cheered her speech, while the voices in her head clamored to point out her lies to her. She cringed under their mental assault, and responding with her thoughts instead of her voice this time.
It had to be done, and you know it. Morale is everything. And you did tell me when I first arrived here after my death at the stake that I was destined to cleanse this world, she mentally replied to her advisors.
But you lied about your enemies! You lied about your cowardly retreat! You have spoken false to save your image, and God will not forgive that! Saint Michael retorted with ferocity. Hellion was about to respond, but her thoughts were interrupted by a noisy shift in the burning temple’s integrity. She descended the steps a little faster than was necessary, and stood closer to her followers; her rebels. She looked to the azure sky, and its blazing orb occupying the space directly overhead.
“Come, fellow Christians! We have conquered much in the name of our Lord, but now it is time to conquer the last and most powerful villain. We march tomorrow to Poseidon’s lair, to destroy the one who wields the trident of Satan himself!” Even in her own mind her words sounded hollow and empty.
Don’t even say it. I have not lost my faith. Joan aimed this thought at the Saints.
Of course you haven’t lost your faith, Joan. But perhaps the divine rage you first felt upon coming here has since diminished. Responded Saint Catherine. Joan hung her head as she led her followers through the streets of Athens and toward gate that let out into the countryside a few miles away. She clenched her fists, remembering her death and resurrection in this terrible land.
A single tear made its way down Joan’s cheek. Her arms were already cramped from the bonds that twisted them painfully around the wooden pole to which she was tied. Heresy! How dare they! None have been more devout, more loyal to God than I. But they need a reason to kill me, these incompetent pigs that captured me… But she realized the irony of that thought immediately. She ground her teeth in fury, and thought that she heard one crack. It’s Charles’ fault. He abandoned me, after all I’ve done.
The man finished his droning speech, and leered at her from behind his greasy black locks. Joan felt her stomach plummet. It was really happening. No matter how much she had thought about and prepared for that inevitable fact, her impending death never truly dawned on her until this moment, when another person, so shadowy that she could not tell its gender, handed the black haired man a burning torch. Joan began to breathe heavily, already imagining the suffocating smoke and searing flames. She began to whisper a prayer, but it didn’t help. The voices of Saint Margaret, Saint Catherine and Saint Michael all stopped their nervous banter and began trying to soothe and comfort her. But it didn’t matter that she knew she would be delivered into heaven, and to God. She looked at that torch and felt nothing but terror.
It was one thing too die on the battlefield. She would have even welcomed death while fighting alongside her fellow warriors. But this death was humiliating and shameful, not to mention very, very painful. But the worst part was that she knew when it was going to happen, and was forced to watch it happen. On the battlefield, death would have been sudden and unexpected, leaving her only a few moments to realize that she was dying. But she was forced to watch as the flame was brought slowly to the brush at the bottom of the stake. She quelled her nausea and glared defiantly at the man who was about to light her on fire.
The torch touched the dry brush and twigs at the bottom of the pole, and more tears poured from Joan’s eyes. As the fire grew hotter and the flames licked upwards, the drops of water on her cheek evaporated into steam and rose into the air. Agony as she had never known it climbed up her body, searing her with its embrace. Joan howled at the sky, at the cheering crowd, and at the voices in her head. The prayer that she had started was lost on her lips as her mortal shell burned away in a blaze of glory.
When it was all over, Joan waited to be taken to heaven, perhaps even escorted by the three saints that spoke to her. But as she was hurtled through infinity at an impossible speed, she cried out to God in one final prayer. But God did not answer back. There was no one in that unfathomable emptiness other than herself, clutched in grip of loneliness and abandonment. Not even the saints were with her. Then a wall suddenly appeared in front of her, flowing across space beyond the edges of her vision. She struggled against whatever force was propelling her, but to no avail. She closed her phantasmal eyes as she hurtled into and through it.
The first thing that she realized was that she had a body again. The next thing she realized was that seven-foot high flames surrounded her. No! I can’t be in Hell! But as she stared harder through the orange and yellow barrier, she realized that there were walls beyond it. She was in a building that was on fire. But buildings don’t burn in heaven. If I’m not in Hell, then where am I? It was a terrible thing to have to endure more fire after a death at the stake, she realized bitterly as she tried to find her way out of the structure. She had burned once, and now it seemed that she must burn again. Was this her punishment for her doubt, however brief? She tried to rationalize it by believing that God was simply testing her.
She stumbled through the flames, feeling them burn her face once more. But this face and body felt different, for some reason, but she did not have the time or effort to dwell upon it. It seemed that she was alive again, but not for long if she did not get out. She also thought that the voices of the saints had come back, but they were only whispers at the back of her mind at the moment. After an eternity of hellish heat, she finally threw open the doors and stepped out, in almost exactly the same way as she would do when she exited the temple at Athens. But this time she stumbled in exhaustion and almost fell down the remaining stairs, and in this case there was no crowd at the bottom, eagerly awaiting her return with good news. There was no one but her. As she slowly and painfully got to her feet and descended the steps, she looked around.
This is a heathen land, Joan. Before you can ascend to heaven and to God, it is your duty to cleanse it of its false ways, the voice of Saint Margaret spoke, now in a more coherent voice.
“But I—“
Silence! It is punishment for your moment of doubt and weakness at the stake. You lost your faith for a few moments; you stopped believing in Him. He is disappointed, and has decided that you must prove your worth in here, in this offensive world. Saint Michael spoke harshly. Joan put her hands to her face, feeling her unfamiliar features.
“Why am I—Why do I look different? Why do I feel different?” The body she now possessed was skinny, and awkward, whereas her old body had been muscular and athletic.
Your old body is gone now, Joan. It burned away at the stake, you remember. You have been brought back to life in a new form to do God’s work. Saint Catherine quietly informed her.
Your mission is to convert these heretics, and destroy their false deities. They reign supreme here, and claim God’s glory for themselves. They believe that they are supreme. You, however, can destroy them. Believe in yourself as we believe in you, and you can lead a rebellion in God’s name, and drive these unholy beasts away. Margaret spoke steadily. Joan stopped in mid-stride, and stood there trembling, with her hands clenched into fists. As her fingernails drew blood from crescent shaped wounds, she felt a rage build within her. For just a moment, she hated them, God and the three saints he had sent to communicate with her, hated them with all her heart. After all she had suffered, all the agony she had endured in His name, all the fear she had overcome to be brave in His name, all to be denied her rightful place in heaven. And then it was gone, or at least subdued and repressed to a deeper level of conscious where she could not sense it, and she felt nothing but shame for her emotions. But her next words were hard and bitter.
“All right, fine. I will cleanse this land until not a speck of heresy tarnishes it. I will bend it to God’s will or crush it in my fingers. I will purify the sinful inhabitants and force them to repent. Do you hear my, Lord? Do you hear me, Saints? This land shall be purified in either prayers or blood, whichever the heathens and their false gods decide. I swear to carry out these orders so well even you three will find no fault, saints.” And no one will be able to deny me entrance to heaven, she thought privately. The three saints were silent, shocked by the intensity of her words. They were disturbed by what they had seen in her, but they wordlessly agreed amongst themselves in her mind that rage and hatred were necessary for the deed to be accomplished, may God forgive them. Keeping her angry was their only option.
Joan had subdued her uncertainties and raised her army. She had always been a leader, and finding the ones that were unhappy with the Olympian gods was not hard. She promised them the benefits of Christianity, and they eagerly joined her cause. Roughly a year after she her death at the stake and journey to this land, she began her first assault on the gods, slaying the mighty Apollo. He had been overconfident, and had even laughed at her as she challenged him to battle. His laughter had been drowned in his own blood when she had skewered his throat with her sword. The other gods had not been so cocky after Joan’s easy victory. When both enemy and ally began to call her Hellion, she did not object. She realized that she actually liked the name. Somehow, it described her in a way she could define. Every time it was uttered she felt that spark of rage flare up in her. She also set fire to the places that she conquered, in order to cleanse them of their heretical nature.
The name Hellion fit her perfectly, she thought as she stopped her army just outside of Athens to make camp for the night. She had intended to burn the city, but had been too distracted by the incidents inside of Athena’s temple. Perhaps tomorrow she would send her Christians in to purify the city before they marched for Poseidon’s island palace. She retired to the tent that her soldiers had set up for her, and tried to ignore the warring voices in her head.
***
“So this is supposed to make me look impressive? I feel like a kid about to go trick-or-treating.” Athena looked puzzled at the unknown reference, but answered all the same.
“Don’t forget Alicia, that only you and I know that you are not Artemis. Even Hellion believes that you are Artemis. No matter what you wear, people will fear your wrath, but it never hurts to dress in a regal manner. Just let me do the talking when we get there.”
After they had foraged through the deserted shops of Athena’s city, they were ready to confront Hellion. Alicia felt as if there was a barbell in her stomach. She wore pants of a deep, forest green and a blouse of scarlet, both of which fit the figure of this body quite well. Athena had helped her arrange her hair so that it did not look disheveled, and she had to admit as she looked at her reflection in the water at the decorative fountain, she did look coldly beautiful. It was a thought that disturbed her when she realized that it wasn’t really her face she was staring at, although there were some strange similarities. As good as she looked now, she found herself missing her old body, presumably still stuck in her crashed seven-year-old compact car. But wait a minute. If I came through here and Artemis’ body didn’t die, could it mean that she is in my world and my body is still alive? If that’s the case, she must be terrified.
Athena interrupted her musings by asking if she was ready to go. Athena wore an ice-blue, form-fitting dress that swirled around her ankles. She also looked different than the girl that Alicia had had to carry out of the burning temple. There was something in her eyes and her expression, and in the way she held herself. She looked like goddess, Alicia thought as Athena handed her sword to her, even though she claimed that Hellion had destroyed her immortality. Again something nagged her about that, but she couldn’t remember. There were more important things to worry about at the moment.
Both women sheathed their weapons at their sides, and started the trek to the gates of the city as the sun began to set on the horizon. Trying to keep her mind off of the coming confrontation, Alicia began once more to ponder her circumstances. Why me, and why Artemis? Of all people, why did we switch places? Not only that, but why did Joan of Arc switch with the Prophetess of Delphi? What is the connection? I’m sure that there were hundreds of people getting stabbed to death at the exact same time I died, so why did I switch with Artemis? She paused as something began to dawn on her.
The Pythia of the Oracle of Delphi had visions and heard voices. A modern outlook on the legend of her prophecies suggest that she was mentally ill, but in those times no one knew the difference. Joan of Arc heard voices as well. If this world really is a parallel world from the one I know, then perhaps there is a parallel version of everyone, and that would mean that Joan’s parallel self is the Pythia of the Oracle. But does that mean that my parallel self is Artemis the Huntress? That doesn’t make any sense, I’m a secretary! The only hunting I’ve ever done was tracking down lost files for that jackass I worked for. She told Athena of her speculations as they walked.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you, Alicia. You’re not that different than Artemis.”
“What?” Alicia almost laughed.
“I’m serious. Artemis was a fierce huntress and an even more ferocious warrior, but she also had another side. She had a great sense of humor, and also a sense of duty. I know that Artemis would have done the same as you did when you dragged me out of the, temple. And don’t forget, you also attacked Hellion, which took some serious courage. You may not have been a warrior in your world, but I think in your own way you were just as brave and fierce as Artemis. It wouldn’t surprise me if you and Artemis had a connection like you thought.” Alicia opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it abruptly. She realized that she had no idea how to respond to that. She thought about the similarities she had seen in Artemis’ face when she had looked at her reflection. Perhaps it was possible.
“As far as Hellion and the Pythia of Delphi, I suppose it would make sense if everything you told me was correct. The Pythia was not a soldier, though.”
“Yeah, I know. But that was because she wasn’t born during a war like Joan was. The environment made her the hardened fighter and leader that she was, I think. Had she been born into peace, perhaps things would have turned out differently.” Both fell silent for a few moments as the gates to the city came into sight. The sun had set completely now, and the stars were beginning to come out. Alicia realized that they looked different than the ones she had seen in her world. The constellations were different, but they were also clearer and sharper than the stars back home. Less pollution, she thought. This civilization didn’t screw up the environment as much as the people in her world.
“If I was still a goddess, I could add some special effects for intimidation. But then again, we wouldn’t need to intimidate them if we really were goddesses still.” She appeared to concentrate, and then immediately relaxed. “Nope, nothing. I’m really just a mortal now. That ***** had to cut me, didn’t she?” She fell silent as they reached the gates and stared into the campfires beyond. Alicia realized what had been bothering her.
“Athena—” she began.
“We’re almost there. Just glare and try to look furious and righteous. I’m also willing to bet that Hellion told her followers that she killed Artemis and I, so that should surprise them, anyway.” Athena grinned briefly. “That cocky, self-righteous wench. I wonder how her little minions will take the fact that she lied to them.” She looked over at Alicia in the gloom. “Draw your sword. And glare with more intensity. Remember, you’re furious at these mortals that betrayed you.”
“Are you furious with them, Athena, or are you just acting, like me?” Athena stopped, just out of view of the sentries on duty. She sighed.
“I’m not sure anymore. I always thought that they were happy under our rule. Of course there were a few that were unhappy, but I really thought that we were worshipped, not feared. Were we really that bad, that they turned at the first chance to the one who promised them an alternative? I used to thing that they were cowards that turned to Hellion because they were afraid of her, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe we got too caught up in being gods to realize that they feared us, not liked us.” She paused, thinking. “If we are successful and destroy Hellion, then perhaps we can patch things up with them. I guess I have to, since I’m a mortal now as well. No, I’m not really angry at them.” Without a word more, she started walking forward again, toward the light of the rudimentary guard station that had been set up.
“All right, that’s far enough. State your…” He trailed off as he realized he was staring at the faces of two Olympian goddesses. “My lady Athena, and Huntress Artemis…” He fell to his knees in submission at the sight of them.
“Athena never let up her glare. “Take me to Hellion, wretch. Or do you not wish to redeem yourself?”
“Hellion told us you were slain.”
“Hellion says a lot of things. Did you really believe all those sweet promises she made you? From what I hear, she has you bowing to a man on a stick now.”
“Our leader does not lie! What manner of apparition are you?” The skinny guard looked defiantly back at Athena, and began to stand. Alicia’s opinion of him rose a bit. That took guts, to defy her when she looked like she did. But Athena was not deterred. In a flash, the sword she held at her side was poised at the guard’s throat, the tip creating a dimple in the flesh.
“Is that proof enough for you, scoundrel?” The terrified man nodded. “Hold that torch up high, so all may look upon the deities they betrayed. Raise it!”
“Please spare me. I am only a simple poet, I didn’t mean any harm…”
"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you decided to betray your gods," Athena coldly replied. As the babbling guard led them toward their general’s tent, all of the soldiers that had been either eating, gambling, or just idly chatting turned to look and fell silent, gaping at the two deities marching through their camp. Many of them fell to their knees in supplication at the sight. Athena glared at them all, her eyes boring holes into their consciences. Gods in the flesh were more impressive than Gods in words, it seemed, and the mortals now seemed eager to appease the ones they saw before them. The sight of the godesses brought tears to their eyes, and none interfered as they neared the tent of the Hellion. As they drew closer, Hellion herself emerged, having sensed the sudden silence in her camp. She grimly watched the procession, saying nothing.
They reached the proud figure garbed in loose, threadbare clothes that failed to conceal the gleam of chain mail underneath, and all three of them stared at each other, saying nothing for a few moments. For the first time, Alicia wondered where she had gotten the mail. She didn’t think that armor as advanced as that had existed in ancient Greece, but she could have been wrong. Perhaps she had taught and forced some poor blacksmith to make it in the name of Christ, she concluded. Oh Joan. How did you come to this? She put her hand on Athena’s shoulder and then spoke to the silent figure.
“Joan! Joan of Arc! Why are you here? What business do you have with this world?” The soldiers were cluster around the confrontation now, and the hundreds that couldn’t see received information relayed by their comrades. The guard that had led Athena and Alicia to Hellion now stood nervously by, watching and feeling torn between loyalty to the godesses and loyalty to his leader. The face, both Joan’s and not Joan’s, was pale in the firelight of the assembled torches. The face split into a disturbing grin.
“This world is a heathen world. God and his saints have commanded me to cleanse it, and cleanse it I have. Tomorrow we march on Poseidon and my remaining enemies, and they will fall. I am Hellion, the God-Slayer, and I declare this world the property of the one true God. But tell me, little Artemis, little dead Artemis, how do you know my real name?” Her eyes flicked from side to side as she spoke, and her tongue seemed to writhe unpleasantly.
She’s not well, Alicia realized. She burned at the stake, and must have been revived in the midst of that fire at the Oracle of Delphi. On top of that, she can’t conceive of a reason why she was denied access to Heaven, when her religion dictated that she should be there. So she had to make one up. But she said the saints told her…those must be the voices she hears! She wasn’t well to begin with, but no one knew because she declared that they were the voices of God. They gave her strength in the past, and cemented her devotion to her religion. But now they’re controlling her, trying to cover the reason why wasn’t admitted into heaven…
“What do you hear, Joan?” She was almost whispering to the other woman. “What do the voices tell you now?”
“They tell me… They tell—” why had they deserted her now? Please, help me, saints. I need… I need your strength…
“Joan, listen to me. They weren’t real, they are all a part of you. You’re ill, and you need help. Just let us help you, please.”
They lie, Joan, THEY LIE! Responded Saint Michael.
Don’t listen to their heresy, replied Saint Margaret.
They are misguided. Show them the error of their ways. Spoke Saint Catherine. But something was wrong with their voices. For the first time she realized that they all sounded the same. They all sounded like her voice, just at different pitches. No! No, I won’t believe it! I can’t! God’s chosen Saints spoke to me…
“You!” Tears were streaming down her face now, as her expression contorted into one of rage. “You made the Saints go away! Who will guide me to Heaven now? Who?” She looked frantically around, as if one of her soldiers held the key to salvation. Athena stepped forward, but Joan, proud Hellion no longer, brought her sword up from her side and knocked Athena’s weapon out of her hands. It clanged on the ground to rest at the terrified guard’s feet, the same one that had brought them here. She advanced on Athena, and Alicia tried to interfere on her friend’s behalf.
“Joan…” Joan’s foot lashed and caught her in the gut. She coughed and fell to ground, trying to regain her breath. Joan’s voice was like a whip, taut with fury.
“I will deal with you in a moment. First I will destroy the false goddess.” Athena looked slightly frightened by the immensity of the woman’s rage, and uncertain for the first time since the confrontation began. Her sword was too far away to reach. Joan’s left arm came out of the shadows and caught the deposed goddess on the jaw. Alicia heard a crack as a few of her teeth crumbled to dust in her mouth. Athena backed farther away, stunned by Joan’s speed. She tried a counterattack, but Joan swung with her left elbow this time, catching Athena on the side of the head. Her sword still rested in her right hand, but she was determined to make a show for her soldiers. She brought her knee up to Athena’s abdomen, and brought her down. Alicia weakly tried to crawl toward her, but collapsed in mid-crawl. Athena was curled in a bizarre fetal position, clasping both her head and her midsection. Her dress was smeared with mud. Joan grinned and brought her sword up. Now was the time, when there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that she was the victor. Now, she would destroy this usurper of God’s name, and they would all bow to her. The Saints would come back to her, and tell her that she could go to heaven. She would prove herself worthy to God with this one blow…
A force struck her from behind, and she looked down at the blade protruding from her ribs. She collapsed to the right side of Athena, and looked up at the trembling form of the guard that had brought the two heathens here. She tried to speak, but could not. Blood flowed from her lips as she opened them.
“Rest easy, fearless leader. Please, be at peace.” He release the sword that he had clung on to even through her fall, and stood, holding her gaze. She felt light for a moment, and warm. There was no pain as she felt herself slipping away. And then she was being pulled, pulled away… There was light, such bright light! She squinted, only to realize that she had left her eyes with her corpse. But still she saw, and began to make out what was behind the light. If her soul had still been connected to her body, the clustered people would have seen her features relax. In fact, they might have even seen her smile.
Almost everyone near Joan’s body had instinctively closed their eyes when the inexplicable bright flash of light came after Joan's death, but it had still left an afterimage in Alicia’s eyes as she struggled to get up. Athena reached out her hand, the other hand weakly clutching her stomach. Alicia took it and got unsteadily to her feet. The guard still stood over the dead body of his leader. Alicia walked over to him, aided by Athena. She couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed; Athena had been beaten far worse than her, and yet she was the one supporting her. Alicia put her hand on the guard’s shoulder.
“Thank you. You did the right thing.” She paused, not knowing what to say. “What is your name?” The guard turned, and she saw that his eyes were completely white. She gasped a little in shock. “You- You’re blind! I’m so sorry…” She trailed off.
“My name is Homer. I am blind now, but I see better now for it. I looked into her eyes until the very end, and what I saw there…I will never forget. She may have been misguided, but she believed in what she was doing, and she made us believe. She was a good person, and an incredible leader. She was brave, and courageous…but I had to- had to kill her. I think she understood at the end. I saw it in her eyes. The flash of light that blinded me…that means that she has found peace. Her rage escaped her in that last moment, and she is no longer possessed by it.” Then he knelt by Joan’s side and sobbed into her shirt and chain mail.
***
Alicia stared at the deep blue sky as she tried to blink away the tears. Homer was standing in front of a crowd of people, giving a speech in Joan’s honor. The crowd was a mixture of former rebels, citizens that remained loyal to the gods, and some of the gods themselves. All had been forgiven and now the focus was on the changes that would be made to the world. The remaining gods had agreed that there had to be change. They had resolved not to be tyrants. A few of them even seemed interested in the "democracy" idea Alicia had introduced.
Poseidon sat flanked by his wife and cyclopean children, and nymphs, minor gods, centaurs, and many other creatures stood and sat with the mortals, and gravely hung onto Homer’s every word. He spoke extraneously, since his vision had not returned to be able to read a script, nor did anyone expect it to, but his speech was magnificent all the same. Hellion, also known as Joan of Arc, had been loved by many, hated by many, and known to all. But Homer’s speech told them the truth of who she was, both her qualities and tragic flaws. More than anything, his speech helped them all to understand her. When the speech was over, two of Joan’s former lieutenants ceremoniously lit her body on fire, where it burned for a while on the pyre. No one said a word. Beside Alicia, Athena shifted uncomfortably, and she realized that the former goddess was crying.
After the ceremony, Alicia and Athena began to speak on the changes that they had planned for the world. Alicia was surprised to learn that not only had the gods controlled Greece, but the rest of the world’s countries as well. Whatever it was that allowed her to understand the speech of this world, it didn’t translate the different names of the countries of this world, nor did she figure that the countries she had known had the same boundaries or properties either. One day, probably soon, she would sit down with Athena and a map, and do her best to learn all the things that she didn’t know. Alicia realized that the world was just as advanced as her own had been, just in a different way. She had seen only a small part of it, and now there was much more to explore. This world was every bit as old as the world she had come from, and did indeed run parallel to her former world, in its own way. She couldn’t call the world she came from her world anymore, because it wasn’t. This was her world now, for better or for worse. She would adjust, just as she knew Artemis, now stuck in her world, would also have to adjust. She wondered how the Pythia of Delphi would hold up in Joan’s world or time, but decided she didn’t want to dwell on it. She still didn’t know if Joan had come from another parallel world, or just from an earlier time in Alicia’s former world. She decided it didn’t matter. But there was something she had to tell Athena.
“Athena, there’s something you need to know.”
“What’s that?”
“Joan didn’t take away your immortality. She never struck you with the sword, a piece of wood scratched you when I was carrying you out. In the confusion you must have thought that it was from her.”
“But I’m not a goddess anymore, and she did kill many of the gods. So something had to have taken our immortality away.” She stopped, realization dawning.
“I think your immortality disappeared with Zeus, when he left. You only thought you were immortal, and before you could discover that you weren’t, Joan came here and began her crusade. Her ability to kill gods was just another of her delusions. Everyone is mortal now, for better or for worse.” Athena was silent for a while.
“I wonder how the others are going to take it. I know for sure that Poseidon will throw a fit. I had already resigned myself to mortality, but the old sea god’s ego will be rather shaken, don’t you think?” Athena grinned wickedly. “You know what? I bet they already know, they just don’t want to admit it. What did they think when they couldn’t use any of their powers even after Hellion, I mean Joan, died? They’re probably just scared of their new weakness, but they’ll get over it. I think I knew it too, I felt it when Zeus left. That’s why I never tried to use any of my powers afterward. I think the others felt the same. But I’m sure they’ll come to terms with it, and who knows? Maybe Zeus will return one day. Whatever comes along, we’ll deal with it. I'm sure Zeus' absence will continue to cause problems, but there will always be solutions, but let's not think about that now. Besides, I want you to tell me more about the world where you came from.”
“I’m not sure it will translate all that well.”
“Try it.”
Alicia began telling Athena stories of lawyers who thought that the world revolved around them, and blamed her for everything from spilt coffee to a lost lawsuit. She told her about a place where there were no gods, just mortals that thought they were because they had money. As Alicia went on, Athena grew more and more amazed. Somewhere, Artemis had nightmares about the big blocky things that had bright flashing blue and red lights atop them and were trying to capture her, and the Pythia of Delphi wandered the dark alleyways of a foreign land. But their terror and unfamiliarity would fade. They were human, and one of humankind’s most impressive traits is an unmatched ability to adapt. Sitting atop a fencepost on the outskirts of a repopulated Athens, Homer tried to figure out where he wanted to travel to and how he was going to write everything he experienced down. He touched the fold of cloth he kept over his eyes so that people wouldn’t be frightened of them, and decided that he would think of something.
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EnemyWithin: Hellion
Adherence to Prompt: 5. An interesting take.
Spelling/Grammar: 4. A few gaffs, as you said there’d be, heh.
Characterization: 8.5.
Plot/Structure: 8. Mostly flows well, just need better transitions between POVs, the flashback, etc. The last paragraph needs work too, it’s kinda an infodump right now.
Style: 7. Your POV seems to shift a few times mid-scene, which is confusing – if you start at Alicia’s POV, you shouldn’t be able to hear Joan’s internal dialogue, for example.
Creativity: 8. Very unexpected choice of setting, not to mention antagonist ;). I only dock a little here because of Alicia, the whole tired fantasy cliché of normal Earth person transported to save a mystical realm. (Heh, don’t feel bad, I’m certainly guilty of this one myself.)
Total: 40.5 Perhaps clarify that Artemis’s wound WAS exactly the same as Alicia’s. “Hellion stabbed her” could mean in the neck, the legs… etc. Also, some sort of font change or section break is needed for the flashback to Joan’s death. Also, has Hellion been rampaging in this alternate Greece for 500+ years? Or is time funny?
Thanks for the comments, VestDan. I realized that the time stream problem wasn't properly explained about two days after I submitted the story, heh. I think if I had started writing earlier instead of losing at playing MTG, and watching TV, I would have seen it (I do have an explanation for it now). Curse my procrastinating ways! Had a month and a half to write my story, and of course I wait until the last possible minute to get moving...:rolleyes:
For the last paragraph, I knew it didn't work as well as I wanted it to. I just couldn't find the right way to end it, and I wanted to tie up some loose ends on where Artemis and the Pythia of Delphi ended up and how they were faring (and since there were rumors of Joan surviving her execution, I figured it would be all right if the Pythia survived in Joan's revived body). My original idea was to do actual scenes for the Pythia and Artemis, but since I was already at 10,000 plus words, I figured it was time to wrap it up in as few words as possible. I do want the last scene of the story to be Homer sitting on a fence and just...contemplating, though. Just feels right somehow, but the ending does have to be refined quite a bit, and probably split into multiple paragraphs, depending on how much I add. By the time I'm done with this "short" story, it'll be novella length. *Groans*
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Adherence to Prompt: 5/5 - It's Joan! Your idea is fresh and interesting and Joan's reactions mostly believable. I did not get the impression that you based Joan in much research, but you used her general idea well. And, you made up for it by making me feel confident in your Greek research.
Spelling/Grammar: 3/5 - I always got what you meant, but a proof-reading would have done you a lot of good.
Characterization: 6 - Again, the characters were fresh. I wished that the protagonist had been developed more, however. I never got the feeling that her life was that mundane before she died, or that she was that lost in the new world.
Plot/Structure: 6/10 - The plot was solid. To be honest, most of my point deductions here came from its length. Going over the word limit by 20% is a sizable amount, and there were definitely parts of the story you could cut. I was impressed at your ability to stair-step your twists, making us comfortable with an explanation and then turning it on its head.
Style: 6 - You use a lot of passive voice. Also, you need to decide whether thoughts will be italicized or not -- you do both. Some of your similes are odd, but I really liked the computer-worshipping image.
Creativity: 8 - All in all, I enjoyed your take on Joan's story.
Thanks for your comments, Scav, and I'm glad you enjoyed my story. I need to work on not writing with a passive voice, not sure why I have such a problem with that. Perhaps I can get some help with it when I take my first creative writing class in Spring semester, I'm looking forward to that (and dreading my upcoming Fall semeser classes, those are going to be hell). The thoughts of the characters were supposed to be italicized, but for some reason italics didn't make the transition from MS Word, and I missed a few when I went back to italicize in this format. Still something I would have caught if I had proofread, so I guess I don't have any real excuse ;).
The reason Alicia didn't seem to be lost in the new world was mainly because there were so many things happening to her at once, and on top of that she was trying to deal with the realization that she was dead (sort of). I think at that point she was just taking things as they came, and she wasn't alone in the new world, she did have Athena to explain things to her, and help her cope. I'll look into it though, and I'll work on developing Alicia's character a bit more. Also, what events do you think should be shortened? I'm thinking I'll cut some things, and then add a bit more character development and/or confusion on Alicia's part.
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Personally, I don't think you need the italicized thoughts at all. Your story is written very close to Alicia's perspective. When you switch to Hellion's perspective, you use italics to denote her voices. I know, technically the voices are Hellion's thoughts but they're a different kind of thought, and using italics for both muddies things up. But, if you instead brought the 3rd person narration closer and de-italicize normal thoughts, then you could get a bit of "dialogue" going. You wouldn't need to have Hellion responding out-loud all the time.
As for what to cut... some of your descriptions go on a bit too long. I'm having trouble finding examples, but one that I wrote down in my notes was the description of Joan's death. You can cut it in half, and it would still be potent. Also, the "setup" scenes where Alicia and Athena are planning their next move can be reworked in a way that they exist mostly as flashback in the following scene.
I'm not entirely sure though, because cutting is the hardest part of writing
And don't worry about the passive voice. It's hard I'm awful at avoiding it. Eventually little alarm bells will go off whenever you use the word "was."
"The moment was slow as the thickest, richest maple syrup . . . "
That's freakin' awesome.
Comments
This reads like a novel that's been crunched into the short story format – it's full of huge ideas that verge on well-developed, but I think you overshot the target (in both words and scope) by a few miles.
The setting is nicely done, though the "through the looking glass take" is a bit standard. I don't understand why the heroine assumes she's in the past, or Hell, or anywhere, since the place you describe doesn't seem to directly resemble any of those places, exactly. The main character's being "just a secretary" seems to offer little-to-no reason for any of this to happen to her at all . . . unless this is where *everyone* goes when they die. Or all secretaries, maybe. And how does she know history so well, especially since you go out of your way to describe her as nothing special? I'm not saying she has to be a professor, but something—a history of going to the theatre, or a theatre major, could explain her knowledge of both topics.
Structurally, there are a lot of "shoe drops," and most of them come too soon. Revelations and shocking moments, I mean. That said, the idea of Joan talking to the Saints, arguing, is nifty and creepy. In fact, I think Alicia is somewhat unnecessary. The story of Joan settling into this world, struggling to accept it and square it with her faith, is what I want to read.
As a short story, it's awfully epic. Bring the focus in, or take the plunge and expand this into a novella or even a novel. What are the heroes fighting for? We don't see enough of the world to justify this world-shaking event. This story promises a big payoff, but we never even see Poseidon or the rest. Solution? Joan's killed 'em. Artemis and Athena are the last two goddesses, going all Thelma and Louise into the fray.
0-5 Adherence to Prompt: This isn't just "Is Joan of Arc in the story." This is "Does she seem like Joan of Arc?" Historical innacuracies will come out of here, though I'll likely be the only one to dock for that.
3
Joan's fighting spirit and well-known characteristics were there, but a sense of a woman who really believes saints speak to her was not quite. Moreover, the Christian elements (a devout medieval Christian holy warrior saying "the holiness of Christianity" rings false somehow) and self-sacrifice seemed painted on.
0-5 Spelling and Grammar: Sefl-esplanator.y Don't neglect this - Scavenger had a few spelling errors, and lost last round by half a point. These are not hard points to get, so don't take them for granted.
4
A few common misspellings, probably due to word processing spell checks and deadlines. Nothing a copyeditor wouldn't catch, and only an errant "too" really stood out to me.
0-10 Characterization: How well are your characters (all of them) developed? Are they believable? Do they come alive to the readers, or are they just flat archetypes?
6.5
I figure it's fair to break this one down according to how many characters we really had—only three. Full points for Joan and a bonus point for the fiery flashback. Athena and Alicia were less developed. Heroines, but we knew little about them and there wasn't much in their dialogue styles to differentiate them. Alicia is the character that needs the most development because she is the real unknown to readers here, most of whom have presumably heard of Artemis and Joan. There must be a way to give the impression her "normal" life is dull or uninteresting, but "I'm a secretary" just doesn't cut it.
Honestly? I see three options: cut Alicia completely, show us her background—what makes her interesting as well as adventurous—in a compact way, or make her another historical/mythical character completely. Calamity Jane or Brunhilde or someone like that. In this short format, you can economize your story by avoiding loads of exposition about a whole new character. St. Alicia of Sec'y has trouble holding a candle to Joan d'Arc, no matter what body she's in.
0-10 Plot and Structure: Does everything flow well? Does the story make coherant sense? Do we care about what happens, at the same time as not being able to see everything coming?
6
As I stated earlier, this is an epic tale. You've set up the fate of this entire Athenian world hinging on this one battle, but you've also got to introduce the strange situations and a whole character. I wonder if making the scope smaller isn't the solution. Or focusing on Joan's arrival, and killing that first god (Apollo). Hell, let her kill Zeus, and go from there. Don't force a world-ending confrontation when the story and characters aren't demanding it – it's feels like you went from Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen's charred corpses straight to the Death Star Trench.
Unfortunately, I'm going to hit you under "structure" for the length . . . if you can't tell this story in the space allotted, you've got to either make hard choices and make it fit, or find another story to tell.
0-10 Style: How effective your words are. How well you use symbolism, imagery, voice, and all those other mystical writing concepts.
7
That maple syrup metaphor . . . I can't tell you how much I liked that, weird and out of nowhere as it was. Stylistically, there's a tendency toward trying to put too much in at once. It's important to get all the information in there you want to get in there, but you can take your time with it. A lot of my style complaints could be addressed by a revision or two, if not a full-on rewrite. There also seems to be a tendency toward getting the conventions in there that you enjoy writing, and really fleshing those out, while cramming the information you feel you need to get across into small packages that cry out, "the writer feels obligated to talk about us." And that is something every writer does, that's why you revise and develop.
All of the characters' speech patterns are very modern. I could buy that with Athena, if this other world is more than just a historical period, but with Joan, it makes less sense. I'm not saying it has to be super-courtly, but I can't picture Joan saying "Okay, fine," for example.
0-10 Creativity: Just because you have to use a well-documented historical figure, doesn't mean you can't be creative about it.
9
The setting is quite creative and original, and begs for further development—the potential for historical figures remaking themselves reminds me of Peter F. Hamilton's Night's Dawn books. The plot itself is more conventional if you take that layer away, as is the underdeveloped co-protagonist Alicia.
Especially since Joan was the subject of the contest, I wanted to see how Joan fit in here, how she arrived in the world. Your flashback did the job for a start, but that off-hand description of Apollo's death made me really want to see that fight. Again, it wants to be a novella, I think, to fit all the things in there that you want to do. Since the goal is a short story, you've got to go in and rethink the structure and focus.
Thanks for your comments, Cory! You can thank my Vermont upbringing for the maple syrup metaphor ;). I also liked your Star Wars comparision, although I am ashamed at how long it took me to get the reference to Owen and Beru, I spent about a full minute trying to remember who they were. Got to watch the movies again it would seem, sigh.
As you said, this probably would have worked better as a novella or even a full-fledged novel, and I've listed some revised and better explained ideas a few paragraphs below. I can see there are far too many loose ends to be tied up and explained in just a short piece, and some of the explanations felt a bit forced as I wrote them in the story. Also, I've got to research Christian speech and dialogue. I'm not Christian myself, so I just stuck to generalities, but maybe I'll research some biblical events for Joan to mention.
One of the problems I had writing this story is that my ideas on how things worked was too vague at the time, and that can be seen in the inconsistency that VestDan found, and the feedback you gave. I wasn't sure whether this was a parallel world, or the actual past, etc., but I have given a lot of thought since writing it to better define the vague areas. These are some of the boundaries I would re-write and expand by.
I have since decided that Athena's world is a parallel world, as is Joan's, and Alicia's. The premise is that there are parallel worlds for each religion, now matter how big or small, in which the elements of that religion is real. Every time a religion comes into existence and gains a following, a new world is created to house it. Yes, even the crazy religions get their own world, although the realms may not last long, especially the ones for the suicidal/masochistic religions *cough* Rakdos *cough* ;). Each world is separate, and unaffected by the others, although like all walls and foundations, has weaknessess and cracks. Zeus finding a crack in reality and leaving his realm caused the boundaries to fracture even more. Alicia comes from a world that represents our own modern one (expressed badly in that passage where she describes the computer and office in an offbeat religious way), in that it is based primarily on technology and reality, as a opposed to religion and faith. Joan comes from a parallel world in which Christianity, primarily Catholicism, is real (I didn't go into it much, but I would imagine it might be a little like Lyra's world in Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy. However, some historical events would have to remain the same for Joan to be who she is). Now if this is is true then the voices of the saints can be real up until she dies, and the absence of the "real" voices in Athena's world gives one more reason for Joan to be driven insane. The idea behind Alicia's journey to Athena's world was based off a few things. First, she was Artemis' parallel self in the modern world (which doesn't really fit that well, I realize, I have to make some changes to Alicia's character), and both died at the same time in the same way, a phenomenon that caused a switch rather than both dying (may or may not need an explanation for this, it could just be written of as a strange occurence caused by Zeus's absence). The same happened to Joan/Hellion and the Priestess of Delphi. I tried to explain away the modern speech patterns as a side effect of the automatic translation, that it takes into account eras as well as languages, and thus fixes speech patterns to the listener. But that may not have been a good enough explanation, or may have to be made clearer, I'll look into that. I'll also work a lot more on characterizing Athena and Alicia, since they did seem a little weak, and fix the inconsistencies you mentioned. Once again, thanks for your feedback, and sorry about the length of my response, it's almost as long as the story :sweat:.
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Author's Notes: This is not as edited as I'd like it to be, unfortunately. Also it is over 10,000 words. I'm sure you'll dock me accordingly for both ;). I also did my best to research Joan of Arc and the other elements of my story, but if I got anything wrong, let me know (I'm sure you would anyway). For better or for worse, here's my story. I don't think it will, but I hope it doesn't offend anyone. Not recommended for devout Christians, and I do portray Joan in a...different way. You'll see.
A spider web of cracks made their way across Alicia’s vision, followed by a tremendous jolt that threw her against the seatbelt. For a moment, she thought that her shattered vision meant she was somehow going blind; that instead of her sight slowly fading, it was cracking and falling away. But it was just the windshield, and the shards that were falling out of the frame and into her lap revealed a frightening, intimidating form beyond. The moment was slow as the thickest, richest maple syrup, and it took her what felt like several moments to figure out that the form beyond was a huge, gnarled oak tree. It took her even longer to realize that there was a sharp, twisted piece of metal sticking through her abdomen.
There wasn’t any pain, not like everyone always said there would be. In fact, as she looked down at the spreading crimson spot on her blouse, she wanted to laugh. Why didn’t the airbag deploy? It wouldn’t have mattered, I know, but it still would have made me feel better…I think. She giggled slightly, and winced as the action triggered more loss of blood. But it didn’t hurt, and that was just…funny. She felt like she had butterflies in her stomach, like when she sat nervously in those hard, plastic chairs at the middle school dances and hoped that whatever boy she had happened to have a crush on at the time bypassed all the prettier, more popular girls in favor of her. And every time that boy had passed by without even seeing her, her heart had sunk, and all those fluttering insects were instantly put to death with the toxic chemical of disappointment.
Now her vision really was fading, and the strange giddiness was gone. The butterflies had been killed yet again, and this time they would not be mysteriously resurrected. The fact that she was dying truly hit her for the first time, and with it the pain. Now it hurt enough to make up for the earlier lack of agony, and more. But it only happens to someone else, not me, she thought wildly. As if to contradict her, the flow of blood gushed harder. There must be some mistake… but that must be what everyone thinks before it happens, she realized.
The weight of her body sagged against the seatbelt once more, and Alicia realized that she could see herself. So it really does happen this way, she thought as she stared dreamily at her dying body. A flash of white exploded in front of it, knocking the dead weight of the body backward and smothering it in voluminous folds. The airbag. Son of a— was her last thought before an invisible lasso pulled her spectral form backward, like a safety harness on the most frightening roller coaster imaginable. For just a moment, she passed through her body, and the experience was one in which she would never be able to describe, of being both dead and alive at the same time; to actually inhabit a dead body.
Darkness enveloped her as the invisible forced pulled her through the ground, and she felt a moment of reflexive suffocation and claustrophobia, but soon passed as she remembered that she was already dead. The darkness was left behind, and replaced by a dull gray color on all sides. She could feel her speed increase, and wondering how she could feel nauseous if she didn’t have a body. Maybe my brain still thinks that I do have a body. But I don’t even have a brain…so what is doing the thinking? What- what am I? The realization brought terror to her. What was she now that she was no longer alive, and what was going to happen to her? She had never been even remotely religious; had never paused to think of the afterlife or what happened after death. It had all seemed to so…unimportant at the time. As a secretary for an important and egocentric lawyer, she had always had files to locate, people to call, clients to keep track of, and always there was something to type up. She had been a devoted follower and zealous acolyte of the almighty Computer, a worshipper deep in prayer at a Desk in an Office, the holy house of her god. It appeared that she had not chosen the correct religion.
The gray had been turning slowly to bright, blinding light. She tried to turn her spectral head, and succeeded only a little. She tried again, realizing that the speed was confusing her motions, and the fact that she could move at all confused her more. She tried again, and this time was rewarded with a view of what she was headed towards. The force was pulling her towards a wall of black stone bricks. There was no beginning or end to the wall, it stretched far beyond her limited view. She felt another pang of terror as the wall drew closer at a terrific speed. Alicia was pulled through the wall and back into existence, of a sort.
A jolt of energy shot through her body, making it arc into the air. With a gasp, she fell back to the ground. The first thing she noticed was that it was hot and dark. Then she realized that her eyes were closed, and opened them slowly. Angry orange and red flames engulfed a large object a few feet to her right, and it appeared the walls of whatever structure she was in were also aflame. I’m in Hell! That was her first thought, and it didn’t completely leave her mind until after the events that followed her unexpected rebirth.
Through the smoke and haze she heard the clang of metal on metal, and was soon able to make out two figures a short distance away locked in a struggle. She squinted, trying to see the fight better. Are those swords? One of the figures abruptly shoved the other one backward to fall on the ground, and the fallen person’s sword skittered away across the floor and into a cluster of flames. Alicia got to her feet quicker than she thought she could, realizing in a slow, just-waking-up way that the fallen fighter was in trouble. She tried to run towards the combatants, but almost fell down in the attempt. Having learned her lesson, Alicia started to carefully limp over.
The fallen fighter was a young woman that looked like she was anywhere from twenty-three to twenty-seven, she saw. She was pretty even with her jaw clenched in determination and fear. Her soon to be killer looked male, but was too hard to see well in the glare of the flames, and the figure's back was turned. Alicia hardly realized what she was doing as she spotted a fallen piece of wood that had splintered off of one of the ceiling beams and picked it up. The triumphant figure appeared to be talking to its fallen opponent, but Alicia couldn’t make out the words. She walked closer, aware that she was able to move easier. In a few seconds, she stood directly behind the menacing figure.
She paused for just a moment. She really didn’t know what this was about, or why these two people were fighting. She didn’t know who was the “good guy” or even if there was one. But this man, and she was now certain that it was a man, was about to kill an unarmed and defenseless woman, and that wasn’t right no matter how one looked at it. She lifted the piece of wood, inadvertently grunting with the effort. It had been heavier to lift than she had thought it would be when she had dragged it over. Now the figure began to turn toward her, and she hurriedly swung it, turning her head away as a reflex of those who are inexperienced in the ways of violence. She heard a thwacking sound, and heard a body hit the floor. She turned her head back around, afraid to look at what she’d done. The figure was on the ground, now facing her.
It was female after all, all though if it weren’t for the feminine curves of the face she wouldn’t have been able to tell. Her body was clothed in thick, threadbare shirt that betrayed the gleam of chain mail underneath. Blood was trickling from her scalp, and there was a minor laceration on her cheek, but she did not look all that injured. Alicia was torn between relief and terror at this discovery, but also a little embarrassed that her attack hadn't done much. The woman snarled, and then spoke to her as she got up.
“So you survived after all, Huntress? We’ll have to change that. This time, I’ll make sure you stay dead. I’ll roast your mutilated body over—“
“That’s enough.” The young woman Alicia had saved had snatched up her opponent’s sword, which had fallen when Alicia knocked her down. She now pointed it at her antagonist’s throat, her hand shaking only slightly. “You’re the one that will die today, Hellion. Your crusade ends here.” The other snarled again, an action more bestial than human, but she backed away, not willing to argue with the point of her own sword.
Alicia heard a crackling noise, and thought that at first one of them had stepped on something, but realized that the noise was coming from above them. She looked up at the last moment as one of the flaming ceiling beams came down right between the two opponents. The force of the impact knocked the woman with the sword to the ground, and she lay motionless while the building continued to smolder. The other woman started to advance on her, but took another look at the building that was about to collapse any moment and thought better of it. She turned and ran toward the door. Alicia turned back to the woman on the ground, and knelt by her. She lightly slapped her face trying to bring her out of it. She thought briefly about a bucket of cold water, but laughed humorlessly as she looked around.
On the other side of the room, another ceiling beam gave way, sending sparks into the air. Alicia tried to pull her up, and grimaced. She weighed far more than she should for a slim girl of average height. Alicia pulled the girl’s left arm around her shoulder, and held it there as she stood up, supporting her weight on her shoulders and back. A short distance behind her, another flaming beam fell to the floor, taking half of the back wall with it. A flaming splinter of wood shot out from the mess and grazed the unconscious young woman’s right arm, drawing blood. Alicia hurried forward, doing her best to haul the unconscious girl with her.
Alicia barely noticed what lay outside the building as she stumbled out of it, she only cared about getting herself and her now semiconscious companion away from the deadly structure. She coughed, and stumbled forward, putting more distance from the building. She did take in the fact that there were other buildings around her, that she was in a city if sorts. She also noted somewhere in the back of her mind that the area was deserted. There were no firefighters or even rubbernecks, only the bright, hot sunlight on her already overheated skin, and buildings gleaming in the haze. She found a shadowed area beneath an awning of one of the buildings a safe distance away from where they had exited, and carefully lowered the girl to the ground. She then sat down heavily, and wondered how much damage had been done to her lungs. It can’t be too bad, she thought. I don’t think I’m going to d- Oh God. I am dead. But how am I…still alive? She shivered suddenly, despite the heat. Where am I? She looked down at her body, realizing for the first time that she did not look and feel like herself. What- Who am I? That other woman called me Huntress, as if that was supposed to mean something to me. But I’m not a huntress, I’m just…I was just a secretary.
The sounds of the girl groaning and sitting up interrupted her thoughts. “Huntress, you’re alive! What happened? Is Hellion defeated?”
“I- I-“ she gulped, and started over. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not who you think I am. At least, I don’t think so. Where am I? Who are you, who is Hellion, and who am I supposed to be?” The girl looked down for a moment, then looked back at her. There were tears in her eyes.
“I guess it makes sense, then, with everything else happening.” She paused, eyes downcast in disappointment. “Artemis really is dead then, or maybe not... I thought that you- that she had proved to be immune to Hellion’s power. I am Athena, and you, or the body you wear, belonged to Artemis, the Huntress. Hellion…she is the woman that I was fighting back in the temple that her and her followers were torching. She is the only person with the power to kill gods and goddesses, and she has been abusing that power since she arrived here. She calls herself the God-Slayer.” The woman laughed hollowly.
“But how am I here? I’m dead. I died back in my…world, I guess, and then found myself here. Is this the afterlife?” She stopped abruptly in realization. Artemis…Athena…those names sound familiar. “Ancient Greece…” She looked around, and then laughed. “Impossible.”
“I don’t know. Strange things have been happening since Zeus left us. It is as if his very presence kept the reality of our world intact. You say you came from another world?”
“Not another world, exactly, now that I think about it. I guess…I came from the future.” She laughed again. “That’s a sentence I never expected to say.” She paused. “If this is Greece, then how can I understand you? I don’t speak Greek.” But even as she spoke, she realized the words that were coming from her mouth were not the language she knew, but she understood them anyway. The afterlife sure was weird. Maybe this was all just a dream, and she was lying comatose in an intensive care unit somewhere. She smiled a bit. “In any case, you don’t speak like any goddess I ever imagined.” Athena looked down at the gash on her arm.
“I think the reason you understand the language is because you are in the body of the Huntress. It may also have to do with your perception of the world, but I’m not a goddess any longer, in any case. Hellion has destroyed my immortality by inflicting this wound. She can turn a deity into a mortal with one successful strike, which is why she has been winning this war. Had you not been there to drag me away from the building, I would have died. I owe you my life. What is your name, then?” Something about what Athena had said bothered her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
“Alicia. Damn, this has been the strangest day of my life. And the last day of my life, now that I think about it.” She couldn’t quite get her mind around that particular concept, and so tried not to think about it. She would have to deal with her death at some point, but now was not the time.
“That is a strange name. Alicia.” She fell silent, thinking.
“Why is the city deserted?”
“I evacuated as many people as I could when I heard that Hellion was on her way here, but not everyone wished to leave. Some wanted to die with their city in a last stand against Hellion and her crusaders.” Athena hung her head. “They were brave souls, to die for their city and their cause. This city is Athens, by the way, and I am, I mean was, the patron goddess and guardian of it. Hellion’s followers spare neither mortal nor immortal, and had things gone as she planned, she would have destroyed the city. But I think that when she saw the body of Artemis rise again, she was afraid that you were immune to her. So she and her followers outside fled without destroying my city.” She sighed in misery. “Olympia still burns as we speak. I fear Zeus was the only one able to destroy her, but by the time he returns we will all be destroyed.”
“Why did he leave, if it caused so much chaos?”
“He didn’t know it would cause such problems, at least I don’t think he did. But the reason is rather vague, something I think only he really understood. He said that he had found a crack in the wall, and that he needed to leave. I have no idea what wall he was referring to. There are a great many walls around, and quite a few of them have cracks in them.”
“A crack in the wall…when I…came here, I saw something. I guess I was just a spirit at the time, and I was traveling at an incredible speed through…I don’t know where it was. But right before I found myself here, I was hurtling toward a wall of infinite proportions. I can’t describe it, can’t even really conceive of it, really.” She paused. “But that isn’t to say that Zeus can’t. Perhaps he saw the wall where no one else could, and wondered what was beyond it. Then he found the crack in it, and left to explore.” Athena looked as if she understood little of what Alicia had said.
“Does that mean that Zeus is where you came from?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I just realized something, though. This is another world, not just the past. In my world, the gods and goddesses of Greece were just myth, not reality. People created the stories of Zeus as an explanation for lightning and thunderstorms, because they didn’t know any better. But here, all those legends are real.” Alicia paused in confusion. “When did Hellion come to this world, or is she native? I doubt that she's a native here, since there was no one named Hellion in the myths that I know of.”
“It began with the fire at the Oracle of Delphi. No one knows whether the Oracle was Hellion’s first conquest, or whether…” She stopped, and looked directly at Alicia. “The reason that I was not so surprised when you told me that you were not Artemis is because of my theory on how Hellion came to be here. At first I thought that the Pythia— Prophetess,” Athena stated, seeing Alicia’s confused look “had survived and gone insane. But there was something wrong, something that couldn’t be explained by insanity. The voice of Hellion is different than the Pythia's, harsh and commanding instead of lilting and high-pitched. From the moment you spoke, I knew that you were not Artemis, and I knew the same about the Pythia. She was not simply mad, something had taken control of her. She was raving about heathen gods and heretics. Soon after, she began assembling her army of rebels, and began to kill the most prominent gods and goddesses as if they were no more than lambs for the slaughter.” A sudden thought struck Alicia, a possible connection as she thought back to the events in the burning building.
“I was impaled by a piece of metal from my car when I drove it off of the road.” Athena looked blank. Apparently, statements referring to objects that didn’t exist couldn’t be translated. “Never mind. I was impaled by a piece of metal. And both you and Hellion thought that I should have been dead. How did Artemis die?”
“Hellion stabbed her.”
“Both of us were killed in the exact same way, and perhaps at the same time, at least as it is relative to both of our worlds. Maybe instead of dying, Artemis and I switched places. Maybe that means that she’s alive in my body, just as I’m alive and unwounded in hers.” Alicia hesitated, thinking. “Tell me about Hellion. If she is from my world, or my time, or whatever, she doesn’t sound like a normal person. There’s something vaguely familiar, but I can’t figure it out. Who gave her the name Hellion, the gods and goddesses or Hellion herself.”
“She called herself Joan, or Jean, something like that. No, it was Joan of Arc, I remember now. I forget who it was that came up with the name Hellion, it might have been her. But the name stuck.” Alicia had turned pale. “What’s wrong, Alicia?”
“Oh God. No, it can’t be. Does she hear voices?”
“I’ve heard rumors that she occasionally talks to people who are not there. Something called saints. How did you know?”
“Joan of Arc is from my world, and she was burned at the stake. The Pythia burned to death in a fire. That was Joan of Arc. I hit Joan of Arc with a piece of wood.” Alicia was practically whispering. “But why? She was such a courageous leader, a heroine that people still look up to. Why is she trying to destroy a civilization? Oh, sorry Athena. You have no idea what I’m talking about.” Alicia briefly explained as best she could who Joan of Arc was. Most of her explanation translated all right, but Alicia had to skip over a few things. She also briefly outlined the ideas of Christianity.
“So they worship a man on a stick? Hellion’s killed thousands of our people for a man on a stick?”
“No, well, yes, sort of. I was never really religious, and neither were my parents when I was growing up. There’s more to it than that. Christianity is a big thing in my world, and it was to Joan as well. The saints were revered figures in Christianity, and Joan claimed to hear them in her head. She was responsible for many victories of her country before the enemy captured her and burned her at the stake,” Alicia finished her somewhat lengthy explanation. That was the best Alicia could do without going into France, Britain, and the deeper and more confusing parts of Christianity that even she didn’t understand. “But I still don’t get it. The Joan I read about in the textbooks wouldn’t have done this. She wouldn’t have killed innocent people and destroyed a peaceful civilization.” Athena was silent, deep in thought and still trying to absorb all this new information. Finally, she spoke up.
“I think we need to confront Hellion, and stop this madness once and for all. If Hellion is who you say she is, then we can find out the answers to your questions. I was hesitant when I believed that she was an immortal with power to kill gods, but if she is just a crazed mortal from your world, then I think it’s time we did something.”
“Didn’t you say she has an army? How do we get past them?” Alicia barely comprehended what Athena was saying. It had been a stressful day to say the least, and she just wanted to sleep for about three days. Athena gave a weak grin.
“Remember, her ‘army’ is a group of former followers of me and the other gods. The betrayed us, and that means that they fear us at some level, even if Hellion has tried to extinguish that fear. We just need to intimidate them.”
“And how do we do that?”
“Simple. We dress up.” Alicia stared at the mad, deposed goddess, and waited for here eyes to open and to see a doctor leaning over her, telling her everything was going to be all right. Perhaps one day she could tell everyone about this crazy dream she had when she was almost dying…but she didn’t wake up. Athena was still sitting beside her, waiting. Alicia shrugged.
Hellion shoved the double doors of the temple outward, and strode out of the temple of the heathen goddess. Trying to make cowardice impressive and intimidating, are you? Saint Michael remarked in her head.
She need not have finished them off and risked her life. The fire will no doubt take care of both of those so-called “goddesses” remarked the gentler voice of Saint Catherine.
Whether or not she is a coward, she still should have finished them off. Athena is a dangerous enemy, even as a mortal. And Artemis came back from the dead. She could be immune. Responded the voice of Saint Margaret, the last of the trio of saints that offered their guidance to Hellion.
“Impossible! There is no such thing as immunity when it comes to the holiness of Christianity. The wound must not have been fatal,” Hellion responded to the arguing voices.
But you impaled her through her vital organs. There is no way she could have survived that without resisting your divine gift. Chided Saint Margaret. Hellion clenched her jaw and thought about this, while still standing on the marble steps of the Temple of Athena.
Joan, spoke Saint Catherine. Joan did not respond, still deep in thought. Joan!
“What?”
They’re staring at you. Joan snapped her head up, for the first time noticed the crowd of her followers surrounding the steps. All were silent while she communed with herself. But now they began muttering to each other. She cleared her throat, and addressed the crowd.
“Hear me, fellow Christians! The voices of God’s chosen Saints have spoken to me. Our enemies here are vanquished, and the holy beings that speak with me say that soon we will have cleansed this land of heresy. It is then that we will be chosen to ascend beyond this cursed place with its misguided, false deities. The Saints have decreed it!” The crowd cheered her speech, while the voices in her head clamored to point out her lies to her. She cringed under their mental assault, and responding with her thoughts instead of her voice this time.
It had to be done, and you know it. Morale is everything. And you did tell me when I first arrived here after my death at the stake that I was destined to cleanse this world, she mentally replied to her advisors.
But you lied about your enemies! You lied about your cowardly retreat! You have spoken false to save your image, and God will not forgive that! Saint Michael retorted with ferocity. Hellion was about to respond, but her thoughts were interrupted by a noisy shift in the burning temple’s integrity. She descended the steps a little faster than was necessary, and stood closer to her followers; her rebels. She looked to the azure sky, and its blazing orb occupying the space directly overhead.
“Come, fellow Christians! We have conquered much in the name of our Lord, but now it is time to conquer the last and most powerful villain. We march tomorrow to Poseidon’s lair, to destroy the one who wields the trident of Satan himself!” Even in her own mind her words sounded hollow and empty.
Don’t even say it. I have not lost my faith. Joan aimed this thought at the Saints.
Of course you haven’t lost your faith, Joan. But perhaps the divine rage you first felt upon coming here has since diminished. Responded Saint Catherine. Joan hung her head as she led her followers through the streets of Athens and toward gate that let out into the countryside a few miles away. She clenched her fists, remembering her death and resurrection in this terrible land.
A single tear made its way down Joan’s cheek. Her arms were already cramped from the bonds that twisted them painfully around the wooden pole to which she was tied. Heresy! How dare they! None have been more devout, more loyal to God than I. But they need a reason to kill me, these incompetent pigs that captured me… But she realized the irony of that thought immediately. She ground her teeth in fury, and thought that she heard one crack. It’s Charles’ fault. He abandoned me, after all I’ve done.
The man finished his droning speech, and leered at her from behind his greasy black locks. Joan felt her stomach plummet. It was really happening. No matter how much she had thought about and prepared for that inevitable fact, her impending death never truly dawned on her until this moment, when another person, so shadowy that she could not tell its gender, handed the black haired man a burning torch. Joan began to breathe heavily, already imagining the suffocating smoke and searing flames. She began to whisper a prayer, but it didn’t help. The voices of Saint Margaret, Saint Catherine and Saint Michael all stopped their nervous banter and began trying to soothe and comfort her. But it didn’t matter that she knew she would be delivered into heaven, and to God. She looked at that torch and felt nothing but terror.
It was one thing too die on the battlefield. She would have even welcomed death while fighting alongside her fellow warriors. But this death was humiliating and shameful, not to mention very, very painful. But the worst part was that she knew when it was going to happen, and was forced to watch it happen. On the battlefield, death would have been sudden and unexpected, leaving her only a few moments to realize that she was dying. But she was forced to watch as the flame was brought slowly to the brush at the bottom of the stake. She quelled her nausea and glared defiantly at the man who was about to light her on fire.
The torch touched the dry brush and twigs at the bottom of the pole, and more tears poured from Joan’s eyes. As the fire grew hotter and the flames licked upwards, the drops of water on her cheek evaporated into steam and rose into the air. Agony as she had never known it climbed up her body, searing her with its embrace. Joan howled at the sky, at the cheering crowd, and at the voices in her head. The prayer that she had started was lost on her lips as her mortal shell burned away in a blaze of glory.
When it was all over, Joan waited to be taken to heaven, perhaps even escorted by the three saints that spoke to her. But as she was hurtled through infinity at an impossible speed, she cried out to God in one final prayer. But God did not answer back. There was no one in that unfathomable emptiness other than herself, clutched in grip of loneliness and abandonment. Not even the saints were with her. Then a wall suddenly appeared in front of her, flowing across space beyond the edges of her vision. She struggled against whatever force was propelling her, but to no avail. She closed her phantasmal eyes as she hurtled into and through it.
The first thing that she realized was that she had a body again. The next thing she realized was that seven-foot high flames surrounded her. No! I can’t be in Hell! But as she stared harder through the orange and yellow barrier, she realized that there were walls beyond it. She was in a building that was on fire. But buildings don’t burn in heaven. If I’m not in Hell, then where am I? It was a terrible thing to have to endure more fire after a death at the stake, she realized bitterly as she tried to find her way out of the structure. She had burned once, and now it seemed that she must burn again. Was this her punishment for her doubt, however brief? She tried to rationalize it by believing that God was simply testing her.
She stumbled through the flames, feeling them burn her face once more. But this face and body felt different, for some reason, but she did not have the time or effort to dwell upon it. It seemed that she was alive again, but not for long if she did not get out. She also thought that the voices of the saints had come back, but they were only whispers at the back of her mind at the moment. After an eternity of hellish heat, she finally threw open the doors and stepped out, in almost exactly the same way as she would do when she exited the temple at Athens. But this time she stumbled in exhaustion and almost fell down the remaining stairs, and in this case there was no crowd at the bottom, eagerly awaiting her return with good news. There was no one but her. As she slowly and painfully got to her feet and descended the steps, she looked around.
This is a heathen land, Joan. Before you can ascend to heaven and to God, it is your duty to cleanse it of its false ways, the voice of Saint Margaret spoke, now in a more coherent voice.
“But I—“
Silence! It is punishment for your moment of doubt and weakness at the stake. You lost your faith for a few moments; you stopped believing in Him. He is disappointed, and has decided that you must prove your worth in here, in this offensive world. Saint Michael spoke harshly. Joan put her hands to her face, feeling her unfamiliar features.
“Why am I—Why do I look different? Why do I feel different?” The body she now possessed was skinny, and awkward, whereas her old body had been muscular and athletic.
Your old body is gone now, Joan. It burned away at the stake, you remember. You have been brought back to life in a new form to do God’s work. Saint Catherine quietly informed her.
Your mission is to convert these heretics, and destroy their false deities. They reign supreme here, and claim God’s glory for themselves. They believe that they are supreme. You, however, can destroy them. Believe in yourself as we believe in you, and you can lead a rebellion in God’s name, and drive these unholy beasts away. Margaret spoke steadily. Joan stopped in mid-stride, and stood there trembling, with her hands clenched into fists. As her fingernails drew blood from crescent shaped wounds, she felt a rage build within her. For just a moment, she hated them, God and the three saints he had sent to communicate with her, hated them with all her heart. After all she had suffered, all the agony she had endured in His name, all the fear she had overcome to be brave in His name, all to be denied her rightful place in heaven. And then it was gone, or at least subdued and repressed to a deeper level of conscious where she could not sense it, and she felt nothing but shame for her emotions. But her next words were hard and bitter.
“All right, fine. I will cleanse this land until not a speck of heresy tarnishes it. I will bend it to God’s will or crush it in my fingers. I will purify the sinful inhabitants and force them to repent. Do you hear my, Lord? Do you hear me, Saints? This land shall be purified in either prayers or blood, whichever the heathens and their false gods decide. I swear to carry out these orders so well even you three will find no fault, saints.” And no one will be able to deny me entrance to heaven, she thought privately. The three saints were silent, shocked by the intensity of her words. They were disturbed by what they had seen in her, but they wordlessly agreed amongst themselves in her mind that rage and hatred were necessary for the deed to be accomplished, may God forgive them. Keeping her angry was their only option.
Joan had subdued her uncertainties and raised her army. She had always been a leader, and finding the ones that were unhappy with the Olympian gods was not hard. She promised them the benefits of Christianity, and they eagerly joined her cause. Roughly a year after she her death at the stake and journey to this land, she began her first assault on the gods, slaying the mighty Apollo. He had been overconfident, and had even laughed at her as she challenged him to battle. His laughter had been drowned in his own blood when she had skewered his throat with her sword. The other gods had not been so cocky after Joan’s easy victory. When both enemy and ally began to call her Hellion, she did not object. She realized that she actually liked the name. Somehow, it described her in a way she could define. Every time it was uttered she felt that spark of rage flare up in her. She also set fire to the places that she conquered, in order to cleanse them of their heretical nature.
The name Hellion fit her perfectly, she thought as she stopped her army just outside of Athens to make camp for the night. She had intended to burn the city, but had been too distracted by the incidents inside of Athena’s temple. Perhaps tomorrow she would send her Christians in to purify the city before they marched for Poseidon’s island palace. She retired to the tent that her soldiers had set up for her, and tried to ignore the warring voices in her head.
“So this is supposed to make me look impressive? I feel like a kid about to go trick-or-treating.” Athena looked puzzled at the unknown reference, but answered all the same.
“Don’t forget Alicia, that only you and I know that you are not Artemis. Even Hellion believes that you are Artemis. No matter what you wear, people will fear your wrath, but it never hurts to dress in a regal manner. Just let me do the talking when we get there.”
After they had foraged through the deserted shops of Athena’s city, they were ready to confront Hellion. Alicia felt as if there was a barbell in her stomach. She wore pants of a deep, forest green and a blouse of scarlet, both of which fit the figure of this body quite well. Athena had helped her arrange her hair so that it did not look disheveled, and she had to admit as she looked at her reflection in the water at the decorative fountain, she did look coldly beautiful. It was a thought that disturbed her when she realized that it wasn’t really her face she was staring at, although there were some strange similarities. As good as she looked now, she found herself missing her old body, presumably still stuck in her crashed seven-year-old compact car. But wait a minute. If I came through here and Artemis’ body didn’t die, could it mean that she is in my world and my body is still alive? If that’s the case, she must be terrified.
Athena interrupted her musings by asking if she was ready to go. Athena wore an ice-blue, form-fitting dress that swirled around her ankles. She also looked different than the girl that Alicia had had to carry out of the burning temple. There was something in her eyes and her expression, and in the way she held herself. She looked like goddess, Alicia thought as Athena handed her sword to her, even though she claimed that Hellion had destroyed her immortality. Again something nagged her about that, but she couldn’t remember. There were more important things to worry about at the moment.
Both women sheathed their weapons at their sides, and started the trek to the gates of the city as the sun began to set on the horizon. Trying to keep her mind off of the coming confrontation, Alicia began once more to ponder her circumstances. Why me, and why Artemis? Of all people, why did we switch places? Not only that, but why did Joan of Arc switch with the Prophetess of Delphi? What is the connection? I’m sure that there were hundreds of people getting stabbed to death at the exact same time I died, so why did I switch with Artemis? She paused as something began to dawn on her.
The Pythia of the Oracle of Delphi had visions and heard voices. A modern outlook on the legend of her prophecies suggest that she was mentally ill, but in those times no one knew the difference. Joan of Arc heard voices as well. If this world really is a parallel world from the one I know, then perhaps there is a parallel version of everyone, and that would mean that Joan’s parallel self is the Pythia of the Oracle. But does that mean that my parallel self is Artemis the Huntress? That doesn’t make any sense, I’m a secretary! The only hunting I’ve ever done was tracking down lost files for that jackass I worked for. She told Athena of her speculations as they walked.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you, Alicia. You’re not that different than Artemis.”
“What?” Alicia almost laughed.
“I’m serious. Artemis was a fierce huntress and an even more ferocious warrior, but she also had another side. She had a great sense of humor, and also a sense of duty. I know that Artemis would have done the same as you did when you dragged me out of the, temple. And don’t forget, you also attacked Hellion, which took some serious courage. You may not have been a warrior in your world, but I think in your own way you were just as brave and fierce as Artemis. It wouldn’t surprise me if you and Artemis had a connection like you thought.” Alicia opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it abruptly. She realized that she had no idea how to respond to that. She thought about the similarities she had seen in Artemis’ face when she had looked at her reflection. Perhaps it was possible.
“As far as Hellion and the Pythia of Delphi, I suppose it would make sense if everything you told me was correct. The Pythia was not a soldier, though.”
“Yeah, I know. But that was because she wasn’t born during a war like Joan was. The environment made her the hardened fighter and leader that she was, I think. Had she been born into peace, perhaps things would have turned out differently.” Both fell silent for a few moments as the gates to the city came into sight. The sun had set completely now, and the stars were beginning to come out. Alicia realized that they looked different than the ones she had seen in her world. The constellations were different, but they were also clearer and sharper than the stars back home. Less pollution, she thought. This civilization didn’t screw up the environment as much as the people in her world.
“If I was still a goddess, I could add some special effects for intimidation. But then again, we wouldn’t need to intimidate them if we really were goddesses still.” She appeared to concentrate, and then immediately relaxed. “Nope, nothing. I’m really just a mortal now. That ***** had to cut me, didn’t she?” She fell silent as they reached the gates and stared into the campfires beyond. Alicia realized what had been bothering her.
“Athena—” she began.
“We’re almost there. Just glare and try to look furious and righteous. I’m also willing to bet that Hellion told her followers that she killed Artemis and I, so that should surprise them, anyway.” Athena grinned briefly. “That cocky, self-righteous wench. I wonder how her little minions will take the fact that she lied to them.” She looked over at Alicia in the gloom. “Draw your sword. And glare with more intensity. Remember, you’re furious at these mortals that betrayed you.”
“Are you furious with them, Athena, or are you just acting, like me?” Athena stopped, just out of view of the sentries on duty. She sighed.
“I’m not sure anymore. I always thought that they were happy under our rule. Of course there were a few that were unhappy, but I really thought that we were worshipped, not feared. Were we really that bad, that they turned at the first chance to the one who promised them an alternative? I used to thing that they were cowards that turned to Hellion because they were afraid of her, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe we got too caught up in being gods to realize that they feared us, not liked us.” She paused, thinking. “If we are successful and destroy Hellion, then perhaps we can patch things up with them. I guess I have to, since I’m a mortal now as well. No, I’m not really angry at them.” Without a word more, she started walking forward again, toward the light of the rudimentary guard station that had been set up.
“All right, that’s far enough. State your…” He trailed off as he realized he was staring at the faces of two Olympian goddesses. “My lady Athena, and Huntress Artemis…” He fell to his knees in submission at the sight of them.
“Athena never let up her glare. “Take me to Hellion, wretch. Or do you not wish to redeem yourself?”
“Hellion told us you were slain.”
“Hellion says a lot of things. Did you really believe all those sweet promises she made you? From what I hear, she has you bowing to a man on a stick now.”
“Our leader does not lie! What manner of apparition are you?” The skinny guard looked defiantly back at Athena, and began to stand. Alicia’s opinion of him rose a bit. That took guts, to defy her when she looked like she did. But Athena was not deterred. In a flash, the sword she held at her side was poised at the guard’s throat, the tip creating a dimple in the flesh.
“Is that proof enough for you, scoundrel?” The terrified man nodded. “Hold that torch up high, so all may look upon the deities they betrayed. Raise it!”
“Please spare me. I am only a simple poet, I didn’t mean any harm…”
"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you decided to betray your gods," Athena coldly replied. As the babbling guard led them toward their general’s tent, all of the soldiers that had been either eating, gambling, or just idly chatting turned to look and fell silent, gaping at the two deities marching through their camp. Many of them fell to their knees in supplication at the sight. Athena glared at them all, her eyes boring holes into their consciences. Gods in the flesh were more impressive than Gods in words, it seemed, and the mortals now seemed eager to appease the ones they saw before them. The sight of the godesses brought tears to their eyes, and none interfered as they neared the tent of the Hellion. As they drew closer, Hellion herself emerged, having sensed the sudden silence in her camp. She grimly watched the procession, saying nothing.
They reached the proud figure garbed in loose, threadbare clothes that failed to conceal the gleam of chain mail underneath, and all three of them stared at each other, saying nothing for a few moments. For the first time, Alicia wondered where she had gotten the mail. She didn’t think that armor as advanced as that had existed in ancient Greece, but she could have been wrong. Perhaps she had taught and forced some poor blacksmith to make it in the name of Christ, she concluded. Oh Joan. How did you come to this? She put her hand on Athena’s shoulder and then spoke to the silent figure.
“Joan! Joan of Arc! Why are you here? What business do you have with this world?” The soldiers were cluster around the confrontation now, and the hundreds that couldn’t see received information relayed by their comrades. The guard that had led Athena and Alicia to Hellion now stood nervously by, watching and feeling torn between loyalty to the godesses and loyalty to his leader. The face, both Joan’s and not Joan’s, was pale in the firelight of the assembled torches. The face split into a disturbing grin.
“This world is a heathen world. God and his saints have commanded me to cleanse it, and cleanse it I have. Tomorrow we march on Poseidon and my remaining enemies, and they will fall. I am Hellion, the God-Slayer, and I declare this world the property of the one true God. But tell me, little Artemis, little dead Artemis, how do you know my real name?” Her eyes flicked from side to side as she spoke, and her tongue seemed to writhe unpleasantly.
She’s not well, Alicia realized. She burned at the stake, and must have been revived in the midst of that fire at the Oracle of Delphi. On top of that, she can’t conceive of a reason why she was denied access to Heaven, when her religion dictated that she should be there. So she had to make one up. But she said the saints told her…those must be the voices she hears! She wasn’t well to begin with, but no one knew because she declared that they were the voices of God. They gave her strength in the past, and cemented her devotion to her religion. But now they’re controlling her, trying to cover the reason why wasn’t admitted into heaven…
“What do you hear, Joan?” She was almost whispering to the other woman. “What do the voices tell you now?”
“They tell me… They tell—” why had they deserted her now? Please, help me, saints. I need… I need your strength…
“Joan, listen to me. They weren’t real, they are all a part of you. You’re ill, and you need help. Just let us help you, please.”
They lie, Joan, THEY LIE! Responded Saint Michael.
Don’t listen to their heresy, replied Saint Margaret.
They are misguided. Show them the error of their ways. Spoke Saint Catherine. But something was wrong with their voices. For the first time she realized that they all sounded the same. They all sounded like her voice, just at different pitches. No! No, I won’t believe it! I can’t! God’s chosen Saints spoke to me…
“You!” Tears were streaming down her face now, as her expression contorted into one of rage. “You made the Saints go away! Who will guide me to Heaven now? Who?” She looked frantically around, as if one of her soldiers held the key to salvation. Athena stepped forward, but Joan, proud Hellion no longer, brought her sword up from her side and knocked Athena’s weapon out of her hands. It clanged on the ground to rest at the terrified guard’s feet, the same one that had brought them here. She advanced on Athena, and Alicia tried to interfere on her friend’s behalf.
“Joan…” Joan’s foot lashed and caught her in the gut. She coughed and fell to ground, trying to regain her breath. Joan’s voice was like a whip, taut with fury.
“I will deal with you in a moment. First I will destroy the false goddess.” Athena looked slightly frightened by the immensity of the woman’s rage, and uncertain for the first time since the confrontation began. Her sword was too far away to reach. Joan’s left arm came out of the shadows and caught the deposed goddess on the jaw. Alicia heard a crack as a few of her teeth crumbled to dust in her mouth. Athena backed farther away, stunned by Joan’s speed. She tried a counterattack, but Joan swung with her left elbow this time, catching Athena on the side of the head. Her sword still rested in her right hand, but she was determined to make a show for her soldiers. She brought her knee up to Athena’s abdomen, and brought her down. Alicia weakly tried to crawl toward her, but collapsed in mid-crawl. Athena was curled in a bizarre fetal position, clasping both her head and her midsection. Her dress was smeared with mud. Joan grinned and brought her sword up. Now was the time, when there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that she was the victor. Now, she would destroy this usurper of God’s name, and they would all bow to her. The Saints would come back to her, and tell her that she could go to heaven. She would prove herself worthy to God with this one blow…
A force struck her from behind, and she looked down at the blade protruding from her ribs. She collapsed to the right side of Athena, and looked up at the trembling form of the guard that had brought the two heathens here. She tried to speak, but could not. Blood flowed from her lips as she opened them.
“Rest easy, fearless leader. Please, be at peace.” He release the sword that he had clung on to even through her fall, and stood, holding her gaze. She felt light for a moment, and warm. There was no pain as she felt herself slipping away. And then she was being pulled, pulled away… There was light, such bright light! She squinted, only to realize that she had left her eyes with her corpse. But still she saw, and began to make out what was behind the light. If her soul had still been connected to her body, the clustered people would have seen her features relax. In fact, they might have even seen her smile.
Almost everyone near Joan’s body had instinctively closed their eyes when the inexplicable bright flash of light came after Joan's death, but it had still left an afterimage in Alicia’s eyes as she struggled to get up. Athena reached out her hand, the other hand weakly clutching her stomach. Alicia took it and got unsteadily to her feet. The guard still stood over the dead body of his leader. Alicia walked over to him, aided by Athena. She couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed; Athena had been beaten far worse than her, and yet she was the one supporting her. Alicia put her hand on the guard’s shoulder.
“Thank you. You did the right thing.” She paused, not knowing what to say. “What is your name?” The guard turned, and she saw that his eyes were completely white. She gasped a little in shock. “You- You’re blind! I’m so sorry…” She trailed off.
“My name is Homer. I am blind now, but I see better now for it. I looked into her eyes until the very end, and what I saw there…I will never forget. She may have been misguided, but she believed in what she was doing, and she made us believe. She was a good person, and an incredible leader. She was brave, and courageous…but I had to- had to kill her. I think she understood at the end. I saw it in her eyes. The flash of light that blinded me…that means that she has found peace. Her rage escaped her in that last moment, and she is no longer possessed by it.” Then he knelt by Joan’s side and sobbed into her shirt and chain mail.
Poseidon sat flanked by his wife and cyclopean children, and nymphs, minor gods, centaurs, and many other creatures stood and sat with the mortals, and gravely hung onto Homer’s every word. He spoke extraneously, since his vision had not returned to be able to read a script, nor did anyone expect it to, but his speech was magnificent all the same. Hellion, also known as Joan of Arc, had been loved by many, hated by many, and known to all. But Homer’s speech told them the truth of who she was, both her qualities and tragic flaws. More than anything, his speech helped them all to understand her. When the speech was over, two of Joan’s former lieutenants ceremoniously lit her body on fire, where it burned for a while on the pyre. No one said a word. Beside Alicia, Athena shifted uncomfortably, and she realized that the former goddess was crying.
After the ceremony, Alicia and Athena began to speak on the changes that they had planned for the world. Alicia was surprised to learn that not only had the gods controlled Greece, but the rest of the world’s countries as well. Whatever it was that allowed her to understand the speech of this world, it didn’t translate the different names of the countries of this world, nor did she figure that the countries she had known had the same boundaries or properties either. One day, probably soon, she would sit down with Athena and a map, and do her best to learn all the things that she didn’t know. Alicia realized that the world was just as advanced as her own had been, just in a different way. She had seen only a small part of it, and now there was much more to explore. This world was every bit as old as the world she had come from, and did indeed run parallel to her former world, in its own way. She couldn’t call the world she came from her world anymore, because it wasn’t. This was her world now, for better or for worse. She would adjust, just as she knew Artemis, now stuck in her world, would also have to adjust. She wondered how the Pythia of Delphi would hold up in Joan’s world or time, but decided she didn’t want to dwell on it. She still didn’t know if Joan had come from another parallel world, or just from an earlier time in Alicia’s former world. She decided it didn’t matter. But there was something she had to tell Athena.
“Athena, there’s something you need to know.”
“What’s that?”
“Joan didn’t take away your immortality. She never struck you with the sword, a piece of wood scratched you when I was carrying you out. In the confusion you must have thought that it was from her.”
“But I’m not a goddess anymore, and she did kill many of the gods. So something had to have taken our immortality away.” She stopped, realization dawning.
“I think your immortality disappeared with Zeus, when he left. You only thought you were immortal, and before you could discover that you weren’t, Joan came here and began her crusade. Her ability to kill gods was just another of her delusions. Everyone is mortal now, for better or for worse.” Athena was silent for a while.
“I wonder how the others are going to take it. I know for sure that Poseidon will throw a fit. I had already resigned myself to mortality, but the old sea god’s ego will be rather shaken, don’t you think?” Athena grinned wickedly. “You know what? I bet they already know, they just don’t want to admit it. What did they think when they couldn’t use any of their powers even after Hellion, I mean Joan, died? They’re probably just scared of their new weakness, but they’ll get over it. I think I knew it too, I felt it when Zeus left. That’s why I never tried to use any of my powers afterward. I think the others felt the same. But I’m sure they’ll come to terms with it, and who knows? Maybe Zeus will return one day. Whatever comes along, we’ll deal with it. I'm sure Zeus' absence will continue to cause problems, but there will always be solutions, but let's not think about that now. Besides, I want you to tell me more about the world where you came from.”
“I’m not sure it will translate all that well.”
“Try it.”
Alicia began telling Athena stories of lawyers who thought that the world revolved around them, and blamed her for everything from spilt coffee to a lost lawsuit. She told her about a place where there were no gods, just mortals that thought they were because they had money. As Alicia went on, Athena grew more and more amazed. Somewhere, Artemis had nightmares about the big blocky things that had bright flashing blue and red lights atop them and were trying to capture her, and the Pythia of Delphi wandered the dark alleyways of a foreign land. But their terror and unfamiliarity would fade. They were human, and one of humankind’s most impressive traits is an unmatched ability to adapt. Sitting atop a fencepost on the outskirts of a repopulated Athens, Homer tried to figure out where he wanted to travel to and how he was going to write everything he experienced down. He touched the fold of cloth he kept over his eyes so that people wouldn’t be frightened of them, and decided that he would think of something.
In Modern:
:symu::symw::symr: Holy Rollers (Geist Tempo)
My NovelJoy author profile: http://www.noveljoy.com/userInfo?wid=189
I write mainly horror/scifi/fantasy type short stories. Please read and feel free to send me feedback.
Adherence to Prompt: 5. An interesting take.
Spelling/Grammar: 4. A few gaffs, as you said there’d be, heh.
Characterization: 8.5.
Plot/Structure: 8. Mostly flows well, just need better transitions between POVs, the flashback, etc. The last paragraph needs work too, it’s kinda an infodump right now.
Style: 7. Your POV seems to shift a few times mid-scene, which is confusing – if you start at Alicia’s POV, you shouldn’t be able to hear Joan’s internal dialogue, for example.
Creativity: 8. Very unexpected choice of setting, not to mention antagonist ;). I only dock a little here because of Alicia, the whole tired fantasy cliché of normal Earth person transported to save a mystical realm. (Heh, don’t feel bad, I’m certainly guilty of this one myself.)
Total: 40.5 Perhaps clarify that Artemis’s wound WAS exactly the same as Alicia’s. “Hellion stabbed her” could mean in the neck, the legs… etc. Also, some sort of font change or section break is needed for the flashback to Joan’s death. Also, has Hellion been rampaging in this alternate Greece for 500+ years? Or is time funny?
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Winner of SSC 1 & ">3 & 6
losing atplaying MTG, and watching TV, I would have seen it (I do have an explanation for it now). Curse my procrastinating ways! Had a month and a half to write my story, and of course I wait until the last possible minute to get moving...:rolleyes:For the last paragraph, I knew it didn't work as well as I wanted it to. I just couldn't find the right way to end it, and I wanted to tie up some loose ends on where Artemis and the Pythia of Delphi ended up and how they were faring (and since there were rumors of Joan surviving her execution, I figured it would be all right if the Pythia survived in Joan's revived body). My original idea was to do actual scenes for the Pythia and Artemis, but since I was already at 10,000 plus words, I figured it was time to wrap it up in as few words as possible. I do want the last scene of the story to be Homer sitting on a fence and just...contemplating, though. Just feels right somehow, but the ending does have to be refined quite a bit, and probably split into multiple paragraphs, depending on how much I add. By the time I'm done with this "short" story, it'll be novella length. *Groans*
In Modern:
:symu::symw::symr: Holy Rollers (Geist Tempo)
My NovelJoy author profile: http://www.noveljoy.com/userInfo?wid=189
I write mainly horror/scifi/fantasy type short stories. Please read and feel free to send me feedback.
Spelling/Grammar: 3/5 - I always got what you meant, but a proof-reading would have done you a lot of good.
Characterization: 6 - Again, the characters were fresh. I wished that the protagonist had been developed more, however. I never got the feeling that her life was that mundane before she died, or that she was that lost in the new world.
Plot/Structure: 6/10 - The plot was solid. To be honest, most of my point deductions here came from its length. Going over the word limit by 20% is a sizable amount, and there were definitely parts of the story you could cut. I was impressed at your ability to stair-step your twists, making us comfortable with an explanation and then turning it on its head.
Style: 6 - You use a lot of passive voice. Also, you need to decide whether thoughts will be italicized or not -- you do both. Some of your similes are odd, but I really liked the computer-worshipping image.
Creativity: 8 - All in all, I enjoyed your take on Joan's story.
Total: 34
The reason Alicia didn't seem to be lost in the new world was mainly because there were so many things happening to her at once, and on top of that she was trying to deal with the realization that she was dead (sort of). I think at that point she was just taking things as they came, and she wasn't alone in the new world, she did have Athena to explain things to her, and help her cope. I'll look into it though, and I'll work on developing Alicia's character a bit more. Also, what events do you think should be shortened? I'm thinking I'll cut some things, and then add a bit more character development and/or confusion on Alicia's part.
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:symu::symw::symr: Holy Rollers (Geist Tempo)
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As for what to cut... some of your descriptions go on a bit too long. I'm having trouble finding examples, but one that I wrote down in my notes was the description of Joan's death. You can cut it in half, and it would still be potent. Also, the "setup" scenes where Alicia and Athena are planning their next move can be reworked in a way that they exist mostly as flashback in the following scene.
I'm not entirely sure though, because cutting is the hardest part of writing
And don't worry about the passive voice. It's hard I'm awful at avoiding it. Eventually little alarm bells will go off whenever you use the word "was."
By EnemyWithin
"The moment was slow as the thickest, richest maple syrup . . . "
That's freakin' awesome.
Comments
This reads like a novel that's been crunched into the short story format – it's full of huge ideas that verge on well-developed, but I think you overshot the target (in both words and scope) by a few miles.
The setting is nicely done, though the "through the looking glass take" is a bit standard. I don't understand why the heroine assumes she's in the past, or Hell, or anywhere, since the place you describe doesn't seem to directly resemble any of those places, exactly. The main character's being "just a secretary" seems to offer little-to-no reason for any of this to happen to her at all . . . unless this is where *everyone* goes when they die. Or all secretaries, maybe. And how does she know history so well, especially since you go out of your way to describe her as nothing special? I'm not saying she has to be a professor, but something—a history of going to the theatre, or a theatre major, could explain her knowledge of both topics.
Structurally, there are a lot of "shoe drops," and most of them come too soon. Revelations and shocking moments, I mean. That said, the idea of Joan talking to the Saints, arguing, is nifty and creepy. In fact, I think Alicia is somewhat unnecessary. The story of Joan settling into this world, struggling to accept it and square it with her faith, is what I want to read.
As a short story, it's awfully epic. Bring the focus in, or take the plunge and expand this into a novella or even a novel. What are the heroes fighting for? We don't see enough of the world to justify this world-shaking event. This story promises a big payoff, but we never even see Poseidon or the rest. Solution? Joan's killed 'em. Artemis and Athena are the last two goddesses, going all Thelma and Louise into the fray.
0-5 Adherence to Prompt: This isn't just "Is Joan of Arc in the story." This is "Does she seem like Joan of Arc?" Historical innacuracies will come out of here, though I'll likely be the only one to dock for that.
3
Joan's fighting spirit and well-known characteristics were there, but a sense of a woman who really believes saints speak to her was not quite. Moreover, the Christian elements (a devout medieval Christian holy warrior saying "the holiness of Christianity" rings false somehow) and self-sacrifice seemed painted on.
0-5 Spelling and Grammar: Sefl-esplanator.y Don't neglect this - Scavenger had a few spelling errors, and lost last round by half a point. These are not hard points to get, so don't take them for granted.
4
A few common misspellings, probably due to word processing spell checks and deadlines. Nothing a copyeditor wouldn't catch, and only an errant "too" really stood out to me.
0-10 Characterization: How well are your characters (all of them) developed? Are they believable? Do they come alive to the readers, or are they just flat archetypes?
6.5
I figure it's fair to break this one down according to how many characters we really had—only three. Full points for Joan and a bonus point for the fiery flashback. Athena and Alicia were less developed. Heroines, but we knew little about them and there wasn't much in their dialogue styles to differentiate them. Alicia is the character that needs the most development because she is the real unknown to readers here, most of whom have presumably heard of Artemis and Joan. There must be a way to give the impression her "normal" life is dull or uninteresting, but "I'm a secretary" just doesn't cut it.
Honestly? I see three options: cut Alicia completely, show us her background—what makes her interesting as well as adventurous—in a compact way, or make her another historical/mythical character completely. Calamity Jane or Brunhilde or someone like that. In this short format, you can economize your story by avoiding loads of exposition about a whole new character. St. Alicia of Sec'y has trouble holding a candle to Joan d'Arc, no matter what body she's in.
0-10 Plot and Structure: Does everything flow well? Does the story make coherant sense? Do we care about what happens, at the same time as not being able to see everything coming?
6
As I stated earlier, this is an epic tale. You've set up the fate of this entire Athenian world hinging on this one battle, but you've also got to introduce the strange situations and a whole character. I wonder if making the scope smaller isn't the solution. Or focusing on Joan's arrival, and killing that first god (Apollo). Hell, let her kill Zeus, and go from there. Don't force a world-ending confrontation when the story and characters aren't demanding it – it's feels like you went from Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen's charred corpses straight to the Death Star Trench.
Unfortunately, I'm going to hit you under "structure" for the length . . . if you can't tell this story in the space allotted, you've got to either make hard choices and make it fit, or find another story to tell.
0-10 Style: How effective your words are. How well you use symbolism, imagery, voice, and all those other mystical writing concepts.
7
That maple syrup metaphor . . . I can't tell you how much I liked that, weird and out of nowhere as it was. Stylistically, there's a tendency toward trying to put too much in at once. It's important to get all the information in there you want to get in there, but you can take your time with it. A lot of my style complaints could be addressed by a revision or two, if not a full-on rewrite. There also seems to be a tendency toward getting the conventions in there that you enjoy writing, and really fleshing those out, while cramming the information you feel you need to get across into small packages that cry out, "the writer feels obligated to talk about us." And that is something every writer does, that's why you revise and develop.
All of the characters' speech patterns are very modern. I could buy that with Athena, if this other world is more than just a historical period, but with Joan, it makes less sense. I'm not saying it has to be super-courtly, but I can't picture Joan saying "Okay, fine," for example.
0-10 Creativity: Just because you have to use a well-documented historical figure, doesn't mean you can't be creative about it.
9
The setting is quite creative and original, and begs for further development—the potential for historical figures remaking themselves reminds me of Peter F. Hamilton's Night's Dawn books. The plot itself is more conventional if you take that layer away, as is the underdeveloped co-protagonist Alicia.
Especially since Joan was the subject of the contest, I wanted to see how Joan fit in here, how she arrived in the world. Your flashback did the job for a start, but that off-hand description of Apollo's death made me really want to see that fight. Again, it wants to be a novella, I think, to fit all the things in there that you want to do. Since the goal is a short story, you've got to go in and rethink the structure and focus.
Total: 35.5
As you said, this probably would have worked better as a novella or even a full-fledged novel, and I've listed some revised and better explained ideas a few paragraphs below. I can see there are far too many loose ends to be tied up and explained in just a short piece, and some of the explanations felt a bit forced as I wrote them in the story. Also, I've got to research Christian speech and dialogue. I'm not Christian myself, so I just stuck to generalities, but maybe I'll research some biblical events for Joan to mention.
One of the problems I had writing this story is that my ideas on how things worked was too vague at the time, and that can be seen in the inconsistency that VestDan found, and the feedback you gave. I wasn't sure whether this was a parallel world, or the actual past, etc., but I have given a lot of thought since writing it to better define the vague areas. These are some of the boundaries I would re-write and expand by.
I have since decided that Athena's world is a parallel world, as is Joan's, and Alicia's. The premise is that there are parallel worlds for each religion, now matter how big or small, in which the elements of that religion is real. Every time a religion comes into existence and gains a following, a new world is created to house it. Yes, even the crazy religions get their own world, although the realms may not last long, especially the ones for the suicidal/masochistic religions *cough* Rakdos *cough* ;). Each world is separate, and unaffected by the others, although like all walls and foundations, has weaknessess and cracks. Zeus finding a crack in reality and leaving his realm caused the boundaries to fracture even more. Alicia comes from a world that represents our own modern one (expressed badly in that passage where she describes the computer and office in an offbeat religious way), in that it is based primarily on technology and reality, as a opposed to religion and faith. Joan comes from a parallel world in which Christianity, primarily Catholicism, is real (I didn't go into it much, but I would imagine it might be a little like Lyra's world in Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy. However, some historical events would have to remain the same for Joan to be who she is). Now if this is is true then the voices of the saints can be real up until she dies, and the absence of the "real" voices in Athena's world gives one more reason for Joan to be driven insane. The idea behind Alicia's journey to Athena's world was based off a few things. First, she was Artemis' parallel self in the modern world (which doesn't really fit that well, I realize, I have to make some changes to Alicia's character), and both died at the same time in the same way, a phenomenon that caused a switch rather than both dying (may or may not need an explanation for this, it could just be written of as a strange occurence caused by Zeus's absence). The same happened to Joan/Hellion and the Priestess of Delphi. I tried to explain away the modern speech patterns as a side effect of the automatic translation, that it takes into account eras as well as languages, and thus fixes speech patterns to the listener. But that may not have been a good enough explanation, or may have to be made clearer, I'll look into that. I'll also work a lot more on characterizing Athena and Alicia, since they did seem a little weak, and fix the inconsistencies you mentioned. Once again, thanks for your feedback, and sorry about the length of my response, it's almost as long as the story :sweat:.
In Modern:
:symu::symw::symr: Holy Rollers (Geist Tempo)
My NovelJoy author profile: http://www.noveljoy.com/userInfo?wid=189
I write mainly horror/scifi/fantasy type short stories. Please read and feel free to send me feedback.