Whispers surged through the crowd as Quinn made her entrance, all eyes now fixed on her.
Her hands clenched at her sides as she forced herself to remain calm, though her mind reeled. Was this truly happening?
The clan head stepped forward, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the gathered crowd like a blade.
"Quinn Sycamore, I have received a vision," he began, his words deliberate and heavy with meaning. "In my dream, our ancestors came to me. They told me that you are the spark destined to ignite the flame of our clan's fame and glory, for all realms to see and envy."
At this, gasps rippled through the assembly. The elders exchanged uncertain glances, their doubts growing.
The Sycamore clan, one of the most ancient and proud lineages, had thrived for millennia under strict tradition.
