The hall still thrummed with the echoes of Elizabeth's declaration. The glow from the ancient stones, though softened, left an eerie light that danced along the high ceilings. The clan leaders, normally statuesque and proud, were frozen mid-step, their eyes betraying both awe and fear.
"You… you are the heir?" whispered Elder Kael, his hand gripping the hilt of his ceremonial sword. Even his seasoned voice trembled.
Elizabeth took a slow step forward, each movement deliberate, measured, like a pendulum marking the passage of destiny. "I am," she said, her voice resonating through the hall. "And I will uphold the Oath. All who seek to challenge me should know this: the covenant is not a toy for ambition, nor a weapon for the reckless. It is life. It is responsibility."
A hush fell. Some eyes widened in admiration, others narrowed in suspicion. Seraphim, sensing the tension, moved closer. His presence was steady, protective, yet unobtrusive. A faint crackle of energy danced between them—an instinctive bond the stones themselves seemed to acknowledge.
Outside the hall, news of the awakening spread like wildfire. The city, usually alive with merchants and travelers, was now muted in anxious anticipation. Soldiers at the gates gripped their spears tighter; citizens peeked from behind shutters, whispering rumors of the girl who had awakened the ancient stones. Messengers dashed to distant towers, sending urgent reports to the clans, while the river that ran through the city shimmered with a strange, golden light, reflecting the pulse of Elizabeth's power.
In the marketplace, even the air seemed to hum. Banners twisted unnaturally, trees shivered though the wind was absent, and stray animals cowered at the distant echo of a low, resonant hum—something old, ancient, and aware of the girl who now bore its legacy.
Elizabeth, however, felt a calm focus settle over her. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, sensing the pulse beneath the city—the heartbeat of the covenant itself. Each stone, each shadow, each whisper of wind was a thread connecting her to the Oath. She felt it awaken within her veins, a power both seductive and dangerous, urging her to step fully into her destiny.
She opened her eyes, scanning the hall once more. The elders' faces were a mixture of awe, fear, and curiosity. Seraphim's gaze met hers, silently reminding her that she was not alone. Elizabeth knew the road ahead would be treacherous—rival clans, old secrets, forbidden magic—but for the first time in her life, she was not afraid.
Her first steps as the true heir were clear: