Lillia

The voices clashed like relentless waves against jagged rocks, each shout sharper and more merciless than the last. My breath caught as I stepped forward, fingers trembling as they clutched the rose pendant at my chest—a small, fragile anchor in the storm. "P-please… if we could just calm down," I whispered, my voice a feather against the howling winds of anger. The words wavered, brittle and weak, swallowed whole by the sharp edge of their accusations.

I glanced between the two men, their faces flushed with fury, and the heavy clang of their words seemed to weigh down my armor like iron chains. Each step closer felt like trudging through deep snow, cold and unforgiving. "There’s no need for this," I stammered again, the softness of my voice cracking beneath the weight of their indifference. My heart beat erratically, each thud a painful reminder of my inadequacy as their hostility drowned me out.

Shame burned hot across my cheeks as I faltered, my gaze dropping to the cobblestones beneath me. Why won’t they listen? Why do they never listen? I took a shaky breath, my chest tightening with the familiar ache of insignificance, and tried again. "Please… fighting won’t solve anything," I said, the words tumbling from my lips like scattered petals, trampled before they could bloom.

The crowd’s faces blurred together, their expressions hardened and uninterested, their attention fixated on the conflict. My throat tightened, and my hands gripped the pendant so tightly it pressed against my palm like a thorn. For a brief moment, my gaze flickered upward, catching sight of someone standing at the edge of the square. They weren’t shouting. They weren’t turning away. My chest tightened further as that faint flicker of hope fought against the crushing weight of doubt. "I just… want to help," I whispered, my voice trembling as though it might shatter under the weight of my own desperation. "Please… just listen to me." The words left my lips at such a volume you'd have thought it was just the wind.