Sound of Caring

The hall was a riot of conversation. The lecture’s attendees had splintered off into different groupings, each discussing their subjects with all bearing but one trait in common. None of them paid any heed to the man at the podium.

Trinda sighed. Rousing herself from her seat behind the podium, she placed a hand on Farrin’s shoulder. He brushed her fingers away and continued with his talk.

Stepping closer, Trinda placed her hand between him and the spell projecting his voice throughout the room, silencing him for a moment. “Farrin, you can hear no one caring.” She gestured at the room again.

Farrin scoffed, shaking his head as if searching for a disagreement. For some way he could disparage her argument. He came up with nothing. His shoulders slumped, and he placed his hands on the podium.

Trinda placed her other hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “This is not a failure on your part.”

“But it is,” Farrin said, turning his head to look at her. “Trinda, you know this is a failure on my part.”

Moving her hands, she went to hold both of his shoulders. She meant to encourage him. Tell him they could try again. She had not realized what she did, however, until he spoke.

“If I can’t convince them to listen, then the Nyxoria prophecy will come to fruition.”

The room fell silent.

Trinda had never heard such a loud silence before. All the conversations, all the meandering minds were focused on them. Trinda and Farrin turned back toward the crowd. They’d wanted to be heard, but this certainly wasn’t how she’d have preferred.