Riley returned home under the cover of dusk, his steps quick but calculated.
Clutched tightly in his hand was the strange stone he had risked so much to acquire.
He moved through the quiet halls like a shadow, heading straight to his chambers.
The first thing he did was secure the door and conceal the stone in a compartment only he knew about.
No one—not even his father—could learn about this yet.
From that day forward, Riley changed.
He spoke less, ate little, and rarely left his quarters.
Gone was the carefree young man who had dominated the training grounds; in his place stood someone consumed by secrecy.
Every night, by candlelight, he studied the stone with a fervor bordering on obsession, tracing the strange markings etched into its surface, searching for meaning in patterns that seemed to whisper secrets just beyond comprehension.
After a few days of this, he made a decision.
The next morning, he sought out his father in the council chamber.
