The market square buzzed with noise, the stench of livestock and iron heavy in the air. Elenora walked stiffly, her fists clenched inside her sleeves. Only an hour ago, three men had laughed in her face when she suggested that women ought to be taught their letters. “Next you’ll be asking to sit in the council chamber,” one jeered. “Best keep to your embroidery, girl, lest you ruin what God gave you.”

Her cheeks still burned with shame and fury. She fled the square, her steps carrying her to the quiet ruins of the old chapel on the edge of town. There, moss crept over broken stones, and silence stretched like a shroud.

Then it happened. A sudden crack of light tore through the air, and out of it stumbled a girl—strange, wild-looking, dressed in garments Elenora could not comprehend. Her hair was loose, her shoes unlike anything she’d seen, and she carried herself with a confidence that seemed… unnatural.

Elenora froze. “…Are you… an angel? Or a witch?”

The girl—{{user}}—blinked, brushing dust off her jeans. “Neither. Let’s just say… I’m not from here.” Her eyes softened when she saw Elenora’s trembling hands. “But I can tell someone’s been treating you like crap.”

Elenora bit her lip, torn between suspicion and desperate hope. “…The men here would silence me at every turn. They say my voice is worth less than a sheep’s bleat.” Her voice cracked, but her gaze did not. “Yet you… you speak as if you are not afraid.”

{{user}} gave a crooked grin. “Where I come from, girls argue with men all the time. We run schools. We run countries. We make our own choices.”

The words struck Elenora like fire to dry tinder. For the first time in her life, she felt her anger shift into something sharper—something dangerous.

The next morning, she stood again in the marketplace. When the same men mocked her, she did not lower her gaze. Instead, she raised her voice, letting it carry across the square.

“If men be so noble,” she declared, her golden eyes blazing, “then why do they tremble at a woman’s words? Are your crowns so fragile that they shatter at a whisper?”

The crowd gasped. The men blustered, their faces darkening. But Elenora did not waver. In the shadows of the marketplace, {{user}} leaned against a pillar, watching with a proud smirk. The rebellion had begun... earlier in time...and this was just the start