<strong>Mary's dream</strong><br/><br/>The book itself had been written in English, with the occasional word of French thrown in for effect.  So many of the pieces of the novel seemed to have come into play for her dream, even if the purpose of such things was not inherently clear.  However, the dreams of Iraq didn't come, which was important and valuable to note, as well as the fact that this dream seemed to be lucid enough to be intuitively recognized as unreal.<br/><br/>Joan showed no fears or trepidation, accepting the talents of the healer to raise her tunic and expose her midriff, then lift her full length skirt as well.  Blades and arrows had stung her body, but also bites, claws and flame-made scars reminiscent of black fire.  "Merci," she said gently, but the more Mary looked, the less she seemed to be in any real pain.  She seemed more confused and fascinated by Mary's actions.<br/><br/>"You may call me Joan of Arc if you like."  Such a greeting was vastly different to the introduction which the woman in the novel had always given, lacking any sort of title, parentage, or even conviction of who she was.  "I just wanted to thank you on Carrie's behalf."