Gloria of Arc

Gloria was on the battlefield. Her horse didn’t whine anymore from the noise of clashing swords, or from the moans of dying men. Her armor was a brilliant white and for what time she was present, she was literally the “Angel of Death”. She held onto her sword in her left hand, and held a banner in her right. The banner read, “donnez-moi la liberté ou donnez-moi la mort!” which was French for “Give me freedom or give me death”, ironically an American saying. She gave a cry of surprise as she felt a searing, white-hot pain slice through her. She saw the flecks of red on the white, and knew she’d been injured. The kin she’d been fighting with stopped to catch her as she fell from aloft. He set her gently on the ground, but every movement he made in an effort to move her hurt. The arrow had hit just above her collarbone; it had cut through the skin of her now pale neck, nearly hitting every major nerve and vein, just as easily as a warm knife cuts through butter. But it thankfully missed. She could hear the music blasting in her ears like a rebel anthem, because after all, she was a rebel, as the song said. It was She’s A Rebel by Green Day, off their American Idiot CD.

“She's a rebel She's a saint She's salt of the earth And she's dangerous
She's a rebel Vigilante Missing link on the brink Of destruction
From Chicago to Toronto She's the one that they Call old whatsername
She's the symbol of resistance and she's holding on my heart like a hand grenade

Is she dreaming what I'm thinking Is she the mother of all bombs gonna detonate
Is she trouble like I'm trouble make it a double twist of fate or a melody that…
She sings the revolution the dawning of our lives
she brings this liberation that I just can't define, while nothing comes to mind (hey!)!”

She felt the fight begin to bleed out of her, as she drowned in her less-than-positive thoughts. ‘I can’t die. I have to lead us to victory!’ She looked up. Her kin held the arrow tip, colored red from blood, in his palm. Another held the feathered end. One pushed, the other pulled. The arrow came out easily, but not quick enough for her not to feel it. She felt cloths being pressed against the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. And then she found a sword held to her throat. Her kin had been an enemy all along. And with one swipe, she could die. She felt the cool metal, then…

“Ah!” she yelped, sitting up in bed. She’d had that dream again.

“Mhmm.” she murmured, realizing her boyfriend Christien’s warm arms were wrapped around her. Gloria reached up a hand just to make sure that the arrow wasn’t really there, but she hadn’t needed to. Christien beat her to the task. She opened her mouth and closed her eyes in a silent moan as his lips brushed softly against her collarbone, making her shiver with relief. Christien stopped, telling her to go back to sleep and that it’d just been a bad dream. She knew there was no arrow. Why was she having this dream, night after night? Then the whispers started. Faint and barely audible. Many a times she’d heard of how schizophrenics and mental instables heard voices that no-one else heard. She lay there then, in Christien’s arms, half-asleep, suffering from voices he wasn’t hearing. Gloria began to softly whimper, because now the constant noise scared her. Christien cradled her closer to him, kissing her hair and murmuring it was just a dream. It’s too bad he didn’t know what was really going on.

He loved watching his angel sleep. It only made it better on Friday nights, when they could stay up all night and not worry about having to get up on Saturdays. He and Gloria had arranged their schedules so they wouldn’t have to get up for classes. So as she lay asleep in arms, he stroked her hair and whispered, “Tá grá agam duit, Gloria.” (I love you, Gloria) He wondered where those words came from, being as they weren’t English, but they rolled off his tongue so easily. She jerked suddenly in her sleep; he thought she must’ve been having yet another nightmare. She seemed to have them more often now, for reasons neither knew. She jerked again, and this time he held her close. She would wake up soon anyways, that he knew. Then they would go down to the library and maybe find out about the words he’d been saying that weren’t English. He hoped they could find out. He was sure there was an answer.

The nightmares had stopped, and still the whispers continued. Hell, everything was still continuing! But, as she listened harder, Gloria found she could understand them. She lay still, letting her mind translate what she was hearing. This was the whisper:

“Hé Gloria ? Vous tenez-vous près du bord?
Surveillance au soleil d'arrangement le bord de votre vision
La jeunesse éternelle est un paysage du mensonge
Les fissures de ma peau peuvent s'avérer
Car les années témoigneront
Dites vos prières et allumez un feu, aller re commencer une guerre
Votre slogan; pistolet de pour la location
It's ce qui nous avons attendu
hé Gloria c'est pourquoi nous étions sur le bord
Le combat de nos vies a été tiré à cet amour impérissable.”

She translated this as:
“Hey Gloria? Are you standing close to the edge?
Lookout to the setting sun the brink of your vision
Eternal youth is a landscape of the lie
The cracks of my skin can prove As the years will testify
Say your prayers and light a fire, we're going to start a war
Your slogan's a gun for hire It's what we waited for
Hey Gloria this is why we we’re on the edge
The fight of our lives has been drawn to this undying love”

!Viva La Gloria! – Green Day (21st Century Breakdown, 5/15/08)

Well, what did that mean? Was it a prophecy or something? She started thinking, and soon she felt Christien moving next to her. She opened her eyes, finding his blue-green ones staring into her’s.

“You had another nightmare. You alright?” he asked, kissing her hair. She nodded, thinking,

“God, I am glad he can’t read minds. If he knew…” They got dressed, and she grabbed her backpack. Christien looked at her.

“What?” she asked.

“We don’t have class today, remember? Well, as long as you’ve got it, I did want to go to the library and check some stuff out.” Gloria nodded, and they made their way down to the campus library.

The college library was huge. Christien always had one computer he used, no matter what the research. So he and Gloria headed toward that computer. Course, they ran into Kali Beiakinsalt and Joey Liddenmeyers. Joey had been Christien’s roommate before he switched to rooming with Gloria. Kali had roomed with Gloria before. Now the two were standing by a computer, Joey typing and Kali holding a pile of books in her arms. Gloria walked up to Kali, and, grabbing at least half the books her friend had been carrying, said hi. Joey turned around, hugged Gloria, and then shook Christien’s hand.

“Nice to see you again, Schuyler. You guys coming to the game? I’m starting QB.” The guys at Christien and Gloria’s college called each other by their last names.

“Yeah, we’ll be there. What’re those for?” Christien asked Kali, motioning to the books.

“Ugh. Lit with Mr. Clairs. We have to do this stupid report on the heroes/heroines of a country that we picked out of a hat.” Joey only nodded at this mention of the assignment.

“I picked France. Joan of Arc, some other chic, and this weirdo freakishly tall dude. Cool stuff, right?” Kali asked. He nodded. Christien looked at Gloria, seeing ‘that’ look on her face. It was one of surprise, and realization.

Joan of Arc! She knew that was a stupid question, but she asked it anyways.
“Hey, Kali? I know this is stupid to ask, but did Joan of Arc speak French?” Kali looked through her notes, letting some pages drop to the floor.

“Um, let’s see…here. Yeah, she did. It says she was born and raised in France. Why?” Gloria swallowed hard.

“I just was wondering.” Oh my God. What if the whispers were French? She went to look for an open computer, and Christien (after saying goodbye to Kali and Joey) followed her. She sat down at a computer and logged in. Christien logged onto the one next to her.

“What are you gonna do?” he asked.

“I’m going to look up some info on her myself. You?”

“There’s this language I’ve heard, and I can’t figure out what it is. I’m gonna see if I can figure it out.” She nodded. Gloria pulled up a Google page and typed in ‘Joan of Arc bio’. Tons of web pages came up, and she clicked on the third one. That site had given her info, but not what she needed. She clicked back, then onto another page. Almost as soon she had finished reading, she heard that whispering again. It whispered:
“Gloria, ma fille. Je suis venu pour vous informer. Il était une fois, mes descendants ont vécu dans le château de Fyvie. Là, une malédiction a été accordée à elle. Vous pouvez soulever la malédiction dans des ces murs. Recueillez vos amis et venez à moi. Je vous guiderai, Gloria d'arc, fille de Fyvie.”

(Gloria, my daughter. I have come to inform you. Once upon a time, my descendants lived in Fyvie Castle. There, a curse was bestowed to it. You can lift the curse in these walls. Gather your friends and come to me. I will guide you, Gloria of Arc, Maiden of Fyvie.)

Now she was scared. Who was talking? She had an idea. Gloria flipped onto a translator page and selected English-French. She typed in basics sayings and worked on saying them.

Christien pulled up a Google page, and then went to yahoo answers. He typed in, “What language is this: ‘Tá grá agam duit.’” As that was what he’d said the night before while Gloria was asleep in his arms. The result that came up was: “Scottish Gaelic; means “I love you.”” So it was Gaelic. It didn’t surprise him; he was Scottish, after all. His hair was red, (well, really more brown than red) and his eyes were blue-green, opposed to Gloria’s being a hazelish-green. So he had the blood. But did he really know the language? Suddenly, without realizing, Christien found himself saying an old Scot-Irish blessing.

“Go n-éirí an bóthar leat. Go raibh cóir na gaoithe i gcónaí leat.
Go dtaitní an ghrian go bog bláth ar do chlár éadain,
go dtite an bháisteach go bog mín ar do ghoirt.
Agus go gcasfar le chéile sinn arís, go gcoinní Dia i mbois a láimhe thú.”
(May the road rise to meet you. May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face, the rain fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of his hand.)
Christien marveled, realizing he could possibly be the ‘Bringer’ his family talked about. The family legend stated that one day there would come a Schuyler who could think and speak in Gaelic. He or she would be the one to bring the Chosen to the homeland to restore balance. Christien glanced at Gloria. She was staring at her computer, obviously deep in research. He tapped her shoulder.

“What?”

“What are you doing?”

“Looking up another language. You find out what yours was?”

“Yeah, it’s Irish. Quel est votre nom? Bonjour? That’s French. Wait a sec. Joan of Arc spoke French. You’re not thinking you’re some kind of distant relative, are you?” He asked. She shook her head, putting a finger to his lips.

“Sshhh. I’ll tell you when there’s no-one else around. Like tonight, before bed.” Gloria had cut him off. Christien took that to mean something, so they gathered their stuff and went to watch the football game going on down out on the field. When they got there, the found the game had started. Joey was in full gear on the field, and Kali was perched on the top bleacher, a piece of poster board with “Get ‘em Joey, you the man!” written in bubble letters held above her head. Christien stopped to chat with a few of his other friends on the sidelines while Gloria climbed up to meet Kali. He soon heard them laughing, and knew she wouldn’t mind not having him by her side for awhile. They’d have all night for that.

“Wow. Are you serious?” Kali asked; her green eyes wide with disbelief.

“Yeah. I’ve heard whispering that’s French. And I’ve seen pictures. I look like her. Plus, my middle name is Joan. How could it get any more obvious than that?” Gloria retorted, clearly annoyed that her friend hadn’t taken her serious. Kali only shrugged.

“Well, Joey told me Christien used to tell him all these legends his family had. There was one that seemed particularly intriguing. You should ask him about it. Hey, what are you and him doing later? Joey said if they win him was going to treat the two of us and Christien to dinner. Like a double date, y’know?” Gloria nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll see if he’d want to come. Call you after the game and homework?” Gloria suggested. Kali shot her friend a glare.

“Thanks for reminding me. I have that stupid report due two Saturdays from today. Thanks.” Gloria laughed, to which Kali lightly smacked her on the shoulder.

“Yeah, but we have off for thanksgiving next week, I thought. Right?” Kali nodded. Christien came to sit by them, and they watched the game. Christien moved his hand so that it was over Gloria’s. She’ll never tell him, but his touch is comforting to her. They stared at each other for a moment, and then laughed hysterically. ‘Wow, what a crazy life I have.’ Gloria thought. The whispering voices couldn’t agree more.

After Joey’s game (which his team won) Christien and Gloria walked back to their dorm. Gloria brought up what Kali had said, and Christien agreed to go along. So when they got in, Gloria called Kali, who told the pair to meet her and Joey at Tony’s Light Em’ Up, the local bar and grill. Gloria and Christien grabbed their pool sticks from the closet and headed down to the parking garage.

“Hey Liddenmeyers! You got game?” Christien yelled over the noise of patrons as he and Gloria fought their way in to the table Kali and Joey were standing by.

“Well, I should be asking you that. Oh, wait, Gloria, you ready for me to kick your pretty little ass? Christien, twenty bucks I’ll beat her.” Gloria just smiled as Kali rolled her eyes. The guys always were banging their chests at each other. Gloria grabbed her stick and began to play. Ten minutes later the group ordered pizza and drinks. Roughly twenty minutes after that, Christien hi-fived Gloria.

“Nice. Joey, the money…” he prompted. Joey reluctantly handed him a twenty dollar bill. Gloria stepped up to him.

“Remember how you said you were going to kick my ass? Well, now you can kiss it!” Joey just stared as she walked away to the table to sit across from Kali.

“You should ask Christien about that. I’m sure he’d tell you. Well, I think.”

“No. What if he thinks I’m crazy?”

“Tell him anyways!” Kali whispered yelled.

“Tell me what, girls?” Christien asked, leaning over the two, looking at Gloria with a curious expression plastered to his face. Gloria gulped.

“I was wondering about your family legends. Joey was saying you knew some pretty good ones. Kali tell Joey about ‘that’ issue later.” Christien, I’ll tell you later as well.” Christien cleared his throat.

“Well, which one do you want to hear?” he asked.

“The one about the Bringer.” Gloria stated. At the mention of this word, Christien seemed to bristle, becoming more alert.

“It’s said that in my family there was one called the Bringer, a Schulyer who could speak and understand thoughts in Gaelic, the Celtic language. He or she would be the one to bring the Chosen, hence the title, to the homeland (Scotland), to restore balance by lifting a curse that was put on the family castle.” Gloria stared at him with awe, as did Joey and Kali.

“But what about this Chosen person? Who’s that?” Kali asked. Christien coughed and drank some of his diet coke before continuing.

“The Chosen was said to be a person that could speak and understand French. He or she is the one to restore balance to the homeland. The Bringer is the one to discover him or her, and brings that person to the homeland. And, as an added bonus myth, it’s said if the Bringer and Chosen are of the opposite sex, they will end up marrying. Cool, huh?” Gloria gulped, thanking god that Christien hadn’t noticed how apprehensive she’d became.

“Another few legends are the ones surrounding where my ancestors lived, in Fyvie castle. This was located in Scotland. These were some legends surrounding it. Late at night, some say they hear the sound of bagpipes softly playing in the tower. Legend has it two highland clans fought a battle over the castle. The castle was originally the stronghold of the Campbells but one day the chief of Clan Campbell and the large body of men garrisoned at Fyvie were called away and the MacDonalds used this opportunity to take the castle. When the MacDonalds attacked they killed a few men and locked some up only the Campbell's faithful family piper was allowed to roam around the castle free for during that time pipers were held in special esteem they played their pipes during battle rallying the troops and entertaining during peaceful times they were educated and often took on advisory roles to the mighty highland chieftains. The MacDonalds knew that the Campbells would be returning and waited they let Campbell flags fly and if one approached by Loch Crinan to the castle everything looked to be normal and so thought the Campbells when they approached home. The piper saw his former chieftain's boats approaching and as usual played a merry homecoming song but midway through he stopped and performed a sorrowful one which at once alerted the Campbells that something was very wrong and at once they turned their boats around to gather reinforcements and reclaim the castle. The MacDonalds were enraged and they were determined that this piper would never play his pipes again. They cut off his hands and destroyed his bagpipes but they might as well have killed him for he became feverish and ill from his wounds and died he was buried without prayers or service near the castle and eventually the MacDonalds were driven out. This story was long thought to be just a myth but not too long ago a skeleton was unearthed near the castle and it was found to have had its hands severed, just like the piper’s had been.
Another interesting legend surrounding the castle is that of “the weeping stones.” Thomas the Rhymer visited Fyvie Castle. Thomas said this before he left:
“Fyvie, Fyvie, thou’s never thrive As lang’s there’s in thee stanes three
There’s ane intill the oldest tower, There’s ane intill the ladye’s bower,
There’s ane intill the water-yett And thir three stanes ye never get.”
This unusual message is thought to refer to three stones that were taken from sacred Church lands to build Fyvie Castle. Until these stones are returned to their original places there would never be an heir born in the castle. One stone was used in the foundation of Preston Tower; one stone was used to build the Charter Room (ladye’s bower); and one stone was rolled into the Ythan River. The stones are supposed to remain dry when all those around them are wet, and be wet when all the stones around them are dry. The stone in the Charter Room is the only stone that has ever been found. It is kept on display in a wooden bowl and is said to be dry at times and yet so wet at other times, it displaces enough water to fill the bowl.” Christien finally took a breath, while Gloria processed what she’d heard. The stones! That was it! Maybe Gloria was supposed to find the missing stones to lift the curse! Wow. And she thought Christien only knew the things that didn’t matter.
Kali and Joey had to get back to their dorm for homework, so they said goodbye and left. Christien and Gloria stayed back to play a few games of pool. After that though, they too went home. Once ‘home’, they found it was past 9:30. Gloria sighed. She knew they had class the next day, so it was time they crashed. But before they did, she would tell Christien the truth. So Gloria climbed into bed, Christien beside her.

“Hey Christien? I have something to tell you.” To Gloria’s ears, her voice sounded faded.

“Yes?” Christien’s voice even seemed softer because of how tired he was.

“I’ve been having weird dreams lately. Most have French stuff in them. I’ve also been hearing whispers in French, too. I-I think I m-might be t-the Chosen.” Christien just stared at her for a moment.

“Well, I have been saying things in Gaelic lately. Maybe I’m the Bringer, then. I say we find out. During Thanksgiving break, we should fly out to meet my parents. That way you can meet them and we can solve this mystery. Well, Joey and Kali can come too.” He said, after seeing the lonely expression on Gloria’s face.

“Fine. I’ll look up fares after class. Night.” Gloria said; her eyelids already starting to droop.

“Hey wait,” Christien said. “I found this yesterday in my keepsake draw from when I was little. This was my flute. I still know how to play it, wanna hear?” he asked. Gloria nodded sleepily. Christien began to play, and Gloria imagined the soft, wind-blown notes wrapping around her, lifting her on a cloud to dreamland. She drifted off. He did as well soon after.
In the morning, Christien marked on the calendar the days until vacation. They went about their classes, and Gloria looked up fares. She told Joey and Kali, and they agreed to come along. Soon it was time to pack their things and board the plane to Scotland. The plane touchdown in Scotland, and Christien’s parents were waiting at the airport.

“Mum, dad, this is Gloria. She’s my girlfriend. These are our friends, Joey and Kali.” Almost at once, Christien’s dad embraced Gloria in a bear hug.

“Delighted to meet any lass of Christien’s. Do I hear wedding bells?” he winked at his son.

“Dad, c’mon. Not yet. We have to finish college. And besides, I need to ask Gloria’s parents first.” He winked at Gloria. Fact was, Christien had already asked. He was just waiting until they finished college to propose. But, just in case, he put emphasis on Gloria, making sure he knew his parents liked her. Christien and Joey grabbed the luggage and they went to the rentals. Soon they were at Fyvie Castle. Christien’s family had lived here for generations.

Gloria was about to walk into the upstairs bedroom when she felt Christien’s hand on her shoulder. She stopped dead, turning around.

“W-what?” she asked sleepily. It had been a long flight, and she really just wanted to get to bed. Then she saw the smile on Christien’s face. It was a kid-with-a-hand-caught-in-cookie jar grin. Gloria smiled as Christien pointed above her. Mistletoe. And Gloria was standing right underneath it. Christien stepped so he was right in front of her. Before he leaned forward, though, he yelled, “Dad! Why in Fyvie do you have mistletoe hanging above the threshold? You knew we were sleeping in here!” The only response was a muffled laugh from downstairs. Gloria smiled, she guessed Christien’s parents really liked her and wanted to see them married already. And that thought was sealed when Christian kissed Gloria and picked her up; carrying her into the room.

Gloria was back in the field. She wasn’t on her horse; she was instead walking in time with the sound of Christien’s flute. She could feel the eyes up her ancestors upon her, but still she kept on. And then, like before, she felt the blinding lightning strike of pain. But this time it wasn’t in her neck. It was her leg. She looked down. A crossbow bolt had run across the plain of her leg, sliced through her armor, and exposed bone. Once again she heard the music as she fought to stay alert.

“She sings the revolution the dawning of our lives
she brings this liberation that I just can't define, while nothing comes to mind
She's a rebel She's a saint She's salt of the earth And she's dangerous
She's a rebel Vigilante Missing link on the brink Of destruction

She's a rebel She's a saint She's salt of the earth And she's dangerous
She's a rebel Vigilante Missing link on the brink Of destruction
She's a rebel, She's a rebel, She's a rebel, And she's dangerous
She's a rebel, She's a rebel, She's a rebel, And she's dangerous!”

Then she faded, and all went black.

“Ah!” Gloria shot straight up in bed, being the second war-related dream had scared her.

“Christien?” she called. She reached out a hand, expecting to feel the shirtless warmth of his back, but instead felt the coolness of the cotton sheets.
She grumbled as she climbed out of bed, finding she was thirsty. So she started her way downstairs to get a drink. She glanced at the grandfather clock out in the hall. It was 2 am. Holy Fyvie! Well, the time change would take awhile. Maybe Christien really was up? Ether way, she tiptoed downstairs. At the foot of the stairs, she heard something she at first would never have believed, had Christien not mentioned it in his legends. Gloria could softly hear bagpipes being played. She entered the kitchen, where she found the cabinet that was full of glasses. She grabbed one, and then went to the fridge and grabbed some ice. She went back to the sink, filling the glass with water. She drank it, empting it without setting it down. She set the glass in the sink, and went to head upstairs to go back to bed. The bagpipe music was still echoing softly, though every so often Gloria would think she heard a flute join in. Halfway upstairs, Gloria stepped aside to let someone pass. It was a lady dressed in green. After she’d passed, Gloria looked to see where she’d gone. She figured it was Kali playing dress up. But at this hour? There was no-one there. Gloria’s mind kicked into panic mode.

“Christien!?” she yelled, and it sounded like something between a cry of a frightened child and a scream of a female in distress. She turned and flew downstairs into the foyer, diving onto the couch and burying her head in the nearest pillow.

“Breac à linne, slat à coille is fiadh à fìreach - mèirle às nach do ghabh gàidheal riamh nàire.”
(A fish from the river, a staff from the wood and a deer from the mountain - thefts no Gael was ever ashamed of.)

She thought she heard Christien’s voice whispering something in Gaelic, and when she looked up he was sitting on the couch next to her. He just smiled.
“I couldn’t sleep. First time back home in ten years, and wow, this place hasn’t changed at all.” Gloria nodded, yawning as Christien leaned down to pick her up into his arms as if she was a small child.

“Me neither. I heard the bagpipes! And then I saw this…this lady in green…like in 17th century stuff.”

“Really? That’s the ghost of Dame D. Lillias Drummond. She won’t hurt you; she’s just looking for her husband.”

“Oh. That’s good to know. I guess. I’m tired. I came down to find you ‘cause I had a bad dream. Again.”

“Well, that’s not good, is it? Just so you know and you’re not wondering, Kali and Joey are exploring. I gave them each five bucks to get lost until 6 am. Clever, eh?” Gloria laughed tiredly as Christien kissed her forehead before laying her on the bed and crawling in beside her.

“I think I’ll have to do some exploring myself tomorrow. About the legend, it’s true. My dreams made me see that I’m the one to find those stones. I’m the Chosen that lifts the curse. We should start looking tomorrow!” she said, excitedly. Christien yawned.

“Yes, love. But that’s tomorrow. After you get some sleep. And don’t worry; I’ll be here when you wake.” He said reassuringly as things quieted down and they slipped asleep.

The next morning, Gloria woke up. Just as he’d said, Christien was laying next to her, still asleep. Oh well, she’d let him. He’d been up really late. She walked into the kitchen where she was greeted by Christien’s mom. She handed Gloria a plate stacked with pancakes and fruit. Gloria smiled as Christien’s dad asked where he was. Just to please them, Gloria said, “He’s still asleep. We had a long night. But I could smell this food, and it brought me down here.” She winked at Kali and Joey, who simultaneously gave her thumbs up. Christien came down soon after. After breakfast, they all got dressed, and Kali, Gloria, Joey and Christien headed outside to get some fresh air. And there Gloria saw it.

There was a bridge that crossed over a little brook leading into the river. There was one stone that wasn’t wet at all, even though it was in the way of the rushing water. Gloria screamed.
“What?” Christien said.

“The stones in the legend! I think I found one!” Gloria yelled, rushing to the bridge. She pointed.

“It’s down there. We have to go get it. It’s one step closer to breaking the curse!” She began to climb over the rails, standing where she could climb into the brook and ‘rescue’ the stone.

“Gloria, don’t I’ll it.” Christien offered. She laughed.

“No, I’m the chosen. I have to do it. Now let me!” Joey coughed, and then Kali started laughing.

“What?” Gloria asked.

“Nothing. Joey just called you a self-righteous bitch, that’s all.” Gloria growled playfully as she started a prayer to Joan of Arc.

“In the face of your enemies, in the face of harassment, ridicule, and doubt, you held firm in your faith. Even in your abandonment, alone and without friends, you held firm in your faith. Even as you faced your own mortality, you held firm in your faith. I pray that I may be as bold in my beliefs as you, St. Joan. I ask that you ride alongside me in my own battles. Help me be mindful that what is worthwhile can be won when I persist. Help me hold firm in my faith. Help me believe in my ability to act well and wisely. Amen.”

Gloria stepped into the brook, her clothes immediately soaking up the ice cool water. She swam over to the rock, picking it up. She carried it back, and handed it to Christien. While she did this, she had a song running in her head. It was Spotlight Twilight Mix by Mutemath.
Kali cheered as Christien and Joey pulled Gloria out. The four came to the oak doors in front of the castle and set the stone down. Gloria cleared her throat.

“Thomas, we have found two of your stones. One left to find, and you will lift the curse you set on this castle that has plagued its inhabitants ever since. Be true to these words!” Gloria yelled the last sentence clearly, and then there was a moment of silence. Then, as if someone had thrown something heavy off the castle balcony, there was a loud bang that resounded around the castle. Gloria smirked, saying, “I think he heard me.”

Three days later, Kali led the group to the tunnel she and Joey had found while exploring. It concealed a secret room that held the third stone. Gloria grabbed it, and ran outside to put it beside the other one. This time Gloria and Christien shouted to Thomas.

“We’ve found the stones of your curse. The Chosen has echoed your promise, you must lift this curse. If you don’t we will know. Lift it and leave this land, you do not belong with the living!” Once again that thud came. Gloria and the gang knew then, that the curse had been abolished. And in the back of her mind, she heard, “Bon travail, Gloria d'arc, fille de Fyvie.” (Good work, Gloria of Arc, Maiden of Fyvie.)

Epilogue:
Months later Christien told his parents that he and Gloria would marry. So that legend of the Chosen and Bringer had come true after all. Gloria set to work writing about the adventures she and her friends had encountered while in Scotland, even though Kali and Joey had long been back in the states. Gloria and Christien would be finishing their schooling in Scotland, at the local university. Her dedication page mentioned Joan of Arc, and quoted her. The quote Gloria used was, “As for being in God’s grace, if I am not, May God put me there; and if I am, may God so keep me.” The theme Gloria had chosen for her book was The World Awaits, by Corey Crowder. So it was. Her book was soon published, and the wedding held. Christien and Gloria’s song was Bubbly, by Colbiat Colait. And Gloria knew Christien always would hold her tight. Soon their family grew, as they welcomed a little boy to the world. They named him Thomas, after the legend’s creator. He could speak and understand French and Gaelic, much to his parents’ amazement. So the family languages would continue another generation. Speaking of generations, Gloria and Christien were now the rightful owners of Fyvie Castle, along with his parents. Gloria’s nickname had been right after all. She truly was Gloria of Arc, Maiden of Fyvie. So had Christien’s, Bringer of the Chosen. And, as you know, it’s not the name that makes the person. It’s what they do that decides how history will remember them.