Douce France

[Richelieu]

Edit: I deleted the story because I am rewriting the whole thing. The only part i really liked was the ending so i thought it deserved a better start.

So here is the new start.

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Douce France

This is not a strange story. Rather, a story of two strange people. I met Jeanne a long time ago, more than two thousand years ago now as a matter of fact. Yes I know: you think I am crazy. But read my story and decide for yourself. If you know of the history of this world you will also know that I am telling the truth.

**********************************
I still remember meeting her. In these days, there weren’t any towns or villages, any community or even tribes to belong to. We all just roamed the land aimlessly. Survival was a day-to-day endeavour. I killed for food; I killed for fear of being killed. We all did.
Which is why I was so surprised when I saw her.
She must have been about 16. She was walking by herself in the woods, oblivious to anyone or anything around her. She walked past me, not even noticing I was there, sitting on my rock and eating berries. I could hear her whispering to herself, or at least I thought it was to herself.
She went maybe ten paces, stopped, and then turned and stared at me with those grey eyes of her. She tilted her head to the side, still whispering. Then she looked up at the sky for a moment, and back down at me and then she laughed. The most beautiful sound I’d ever heard; a shower of crystal in my ear.
I was already startled: such a young girl, all alone, should not expect anything good from someone like me. But she just walked back towards me and started talking.
“God has chosen you,” she said. “Come. We have to talk.”
I laughed out loud as she started walking away.
“And which god is that?” I asked.
She did not stop walking.
“There is only one God. He speaks to me and has granted me eternal life. And he has now done the same for you. Come Richelieu, we have to find others. We have to start.”
Eternal life? Now that sounded interesting.
Besides, I did not have anything to lose by following her. Such a companion could prove… useful, to warm me during the cold nights.
“What is it that you called me?” I asked, when I got up to her.
“Richelieu. That will be your name.”
Richelieu. A bit of a mouthful if you ask me. But I had never had a name before and if she wanted to call me that, well, why not.


***********************************

I soon discovered that my nights would stay cold, if I relied on her for comfort. That evening I laid by her side near the fire. She did not mind at first, until I tried to get some… warmth.
I am a tall man and much bigger than she is, but I have never seen such strength in anyone. She struck me with an elbow to the chin and in a moment she was on top of me, her left hand was on my throat and she was ready to strike me with her right one. I was already choking on my own teeth and blood and did not wish for more.
She slapped me twice with her open hand, with such force that my head rocked from side to side.
“You will not touch me again!” she said, her eyes locked into mine. “No one can ever touch me in that way.”
She got up and sat down in front of the fire, turning her back on me. Her voice turned to that soft tone that she has when she speaks of things other than war.
“I have a mission and I cannot be distracted by… these things.” She said. “God has extended to you part of what he has given me: eternal life. You will not suffer illness and your body will stay as it is now forever. But you can be killed in a fight. And if you ever try that again, I will kill you.”
I got up and sat beside her.
“Apparently, your god has not given me the same strength or the resistance to injuries
that you have” I said, massaging my chin.
She turned to me.
“He is your God too. He gives what he wants to whom he chooses. And if you wish to remain immortal, I suggest you acknowledge that”.
“Are you talking to him?”
“I hear him.” She said.
I spat a tooth out of my mouth, along with some blood.
“Are you the only one who can hurt me this way?” I asked.
“No. Others can hurt you too and, as you have seen you can feel pain. As for me, I have more strength than most, but it is so I can accomplish my mission.”

I could feel she believed what she said. I was even starting to believe it myself.

********************************

I have been following her ever since. I have not aged a day since then, and although I have been in hundreds of battles, fights and accidents, my body does not bear one scar more than it did on that day. She had told the truth: I can be hurt, I bleed, and a dozen times I came close to dying on the battlefield. But I heal after a while and the traces vanish after a few days, weeks or at the most a month.

The next day I had more questions for her.
“What is this mission you speak of?”
We were walking through the woods. She had chosen a path, apparently without any reason and I followed her.
“We need to come together. Everyone must come together.” She said. “But there will only be few of us at the beginning. Some will join us and others will try to stop us. But in the end, we must all come together.”
“Everyone?”
“Everyone.”
“Everywhere?”
“Yes.”
We walked in silence for a few moments. I understood what she meant.
And at the same time I thought: “How can you understand what she means? What is this gibberish about all coming together? Some will join us, some won’t : what is that?”
“That is why God has chosen you to help me.” She said.
“What? Why?” I asked.
“Because you understand me. Others will not.”
I froze.
“You can’t hear my thoughts, can you?” I asked, bracing for another beating. I had been following her pretty close… and I am but a man after all.
“Only what God will let me hear.” She said. “Mostly, I don’t.”
I started walking again.
“You understand how I think and what I mean when I speak.. I will need you to let the others know.”
“And who are the others?, Are they Chosen like you, like me?”
“No. They are the instruments of God but they do not know it. They will accomplish his designs without his guidance” She said.
“They’re peons.” I thought.
Hey! I was getting what she was saying!

As we came out of the woods, we saw a small wooden hut, with a fire in front of it, maybe a hundred yards away. A woman was kneeling in front of the fire, tending to a meal apparently. A man sat on a rock beside her. Neither of them had seen us. But a young boy was standing halfway between them and us and he started running towards them as soon as he saw us, screaming all the way.

“They will be the first,” Jeanne said, ”the first of many who will join us.”
Looking at the frail man and the malnourished woman, I couldn’t help but say “ Not what I would call a great start.”
Jeanne stopped and I came to her side.
“You were the start, Richelieu."She smiled."And I would tend to agree with you.”

[Richelieu]

edit: see above.

[Richelieu]

edit: see above.

[Richelieu]

I've been reading Ike, Grundel, Velociryx and pretty much everyone else for the last month and decided i would try my hand at this. This is my first story.... and it is not going as i thought it would.
I figured i would write something that would be filled with humour, that poor Richelieu longing so desperately for his Jeanne and all that. But i guess the story takes a life of it's own; i write one sentence in one way and the next sentence pretty much writes itself.
I'm a little bit disapointed though. I didn't think it would turn out to be so "pompous" - I think that's the right word.
Oh well
Lets see if i can finish off on a better note.

[Jumping Choya]

Heh, writing a story isn't as easy as it looks. I found that out with my little Egypt story. In my opinion, maybe writing a third-person type of story would be easier...more freedom, not based so much on one person. But that's just my thought.

And of course, practice makes perfect.

Your writing is good so far. Go ahead and finish the story!

[Chronus]

Yeah, I know the feeling, Rich, but hang in there. I like your story. Don't worry about how it looks to others and try not to compare your story with others. As you said yourself, the story takes a life of its own, and that's a good thing . . . especially when it surprises the author!

Enjoy!

[Richelieu]

edit : see above.

[mdogg]

Outstanding simply outstanding I really thought the french had the space ship. Amazing!

[Hueij]

“You see” Elizabeth says, “ I too believe that she can hear the voice of God…”
She locks her eyes in mine and points to Gandhi.
“Only thing is: God is talking to someone else.”

And once more a story with a brilliant and unexpected ending

[Captain]

well done!

a pretty decent story that gets bumped up to a very good story because of that fantastic ending!

You had me there! I was really expecting a french spaceship!