Hare of Misfortune

Due to Nia sapping all the residual Yomi energy from her active pool when Rachel had awoken, the girl managed to save her an extra 23% after she’d used 50% of Nia’s fourth pool against Relica. It was a good thing Nia had individual batteries for multiple lunar types, though, allowing her to stock up on all the moon bathing she’d done with Izanami.

In addition, it seemed the hospital staff wasn’t always successful in keeping her out of the sun, since a healthy part of it had been burned away. Losing Event or Unique Moon energy stung, though.

The thought made her somewhat regretful that she’d been forced to dump an entire pool of the Greater Harvest Moon since the Unique Moons were more important to keep around. While the Greater Event Moon had phenomenal properties, it wasn’t up to the same tier as the other unique energies. If only she had more slots to store things, then it wouldn’t be a problem.

Thinking ahead, she considered what would happen if she gained the ability to mix lunar energies; maybe then, they could make something totally new. It was food for thought in the future. However, all of that was pushed to the back of her mind when they walked forward, Barbara leaning forward to whisper in her ear.

”I assume Nia told you about my thoughts on my legend, Sainthood, and the whole military thing, so I’ll just get straight to the conclusion. The working hypothesis is that The Oscillation somehow took a collective view of modern pop culture and historical beliefs, put them in a blender, and whipped up our Seeds. I’m sure you’re about to or already have pieced together why I’m telling you this now.”

”...I have a rough idea,” she said, leaving the box for the main entrance, where a classy blonde young woman seemed to be waiting for them.

Wearing a black, formal dress, the legend looked up from a sofa and smoothly rose to her feet; Scarlet’s earlier comments made sense now. Rachel judged the woman’s hair could be more impressive than her own mane of white locks; it was twined together in a braid as thick as her closed fist.

”Saint Jeanne,” Barbara greeted with a smile, ”thank you for waiting. Have you been enjoying Washington?”

”I have!”

Rachel could feel coils of misfortune passing between them. Scarlet had been on the money, and her brother was right that they’d miss the blonde when they got to the lobby. If pop culture did influence the historical past of myths and legends, then it could be a real problem determining certain weaknesses or strengths.

However, that was a problem. She sighed internally at how ignorant she was about many historical figures. Sure, she had learned a lot in school, but not a lot of that had stayed with her. [Strategic Mind] certainly helped, but it was far from a perfect recollection of her life.

Who is Jeanne d’Arc? French, obviously, and a saint, at that, so... Catholic? Why is she here... Her vision flicked to a few whispering individuals before returning to the blonde. Well, it seems she is a hot discussion topic, and not just in this building.

With a light French accent, Jeanne joined them, wearing 2-inch black heels that complemented her gold accessories and dress; like Maria and Barbara, she wore a rosary. [Bestial Instincts] told her the woman was quite capable, perhaps stronger than Barbara herself.

”I’m doing well, and you needn’t engage in any formalities,” the blue-eyed saint continued. Her golden countenance and radiant smile turned toward Rachel as they left the building. ”And you must be the hero of Miami I’ve heard about, yet no one here in Washington has been able to give me your name.”

Body feeling more vulnerable than exhausted while under the sun, Rachel distracted herself now that she had a target. Ears half-raised, she listened to whispers that followed from office gossip.

A tired smile lifted the corner of Rachel’s lip as the cool March breeze hit them, and they moved to cross toward the West Wing of the White House. It was between 5 and 10 degrees Celsius, which was why so many people were dressed warmly.

”Is that what they’re calling me? And I think you know my name, legend of Saint Jeanne d’Arc. Something tells me you actually know more than you’re letting on. And you’re traveling with Saint Charlemagne, someone important to France, apparently.”

”Sharp ears,” Jeanne complimented, glancing at the crowds following them with their eyes. ”I’ll try to be more forward, as it seems to be your style. Yes, Rachel, I know a little about you from what the DGSE has briefed us on—our version of the CIA. How many people are talking about us?”

”Plenty. I just happen to stand out,” Rachel mused, striking further at the blonde’s purpose for being here. ”Probing for more information? I’m pretty sure who I am would be classified at this time. I’m flattered that I’m important enough to be given special attention by the French government. But I can’t help you much further. No help, Barb?”

The auburn-haired woman laughed. ”Oh, yeah, well...I figured you’d ask if you wanted it. Then again, I didn’t think I’d need to step in or that you’d want my intervention. I guess I’m still figuring you out.”

”Fair,” Rachel mused, heavy eyes lifting to see the unabashed grin on the blonde’s face. ”Mmm. And you’re already giving them a profile of me by the fact that she’s walking with us. She’s here for information.”

”Guilty!” Jeanne chirped. ”I am curious as to why you’ve been given special treatment to the point of interrupting Saint Charlemagne’s meeting with the President. Does it have something to do with the UK’s Cabinet Minister who recently flew in... Arthur Pendragon, if I’m not mistaken? Oh! That got a reaction. Isn’t it interesting how many important figures have changed into legends or myths?”

”It certainly is...and how they’re taking on their new identity to hide their old.”