Eli awoke to a thunder of voices from Learnville's market square—louder and wilder than ever before. A crowd had gathered around a velvet-draped stall, where a smooth-talking merchant named Silas hawked gleaming tokens called StarCoins.
"Better than gold!" Silas shouted, holding up a coin that shimmered like a fallen star.
"They'll protect your wealth from the kingdom's rising prices!"
Nearby, another trader whispered promises of "Warrant Scrolls"—magical parchments tied to the market's hottest businesses. A third urged Eli to borrow coins to "double his trading power."
Eli's pulse quickened. Temptation was everywhere, and the frenzy was contagious. Clutching Benjamin's tome, he pushed through the crowd and hurried to the Great Library, desperate for guidance.
Inside, the sage stood before a massive tapestry. It depicted a ship sailing past sirens—beautiful, winged creatures with voices like honey, luring sailors toward jagged rocks.
"You've heard the sirens of Learnville, haven't you?" Benjamin said, his voice cutting through the echoes in Eli's mind.
"They sing of quick riches, but their path ends in ruin. Today, you'll learn how to sail past their traps."
Eli nodded, still shaken by the promise of StarCoins.
"They sound safe," he said. "Like they'll protect my coins from losing value. Should I buy some?"
Benjamin's eyes narrowed.
"StarCoins — what some call 'digital gold' — are a gamble dressed as treasure.
They might shine for centuries like real gold… or fade like Starlight Crystals and Pet Rocks.
Their value lies in mystery, and mystery belongs in your mad money pouch, not your fortress.
Even Warren of Buffettshire would scoff at trying to guess their worth."
Eli pictured his small velvet pouch—just enough space for curiosity, not confidence.
"What about borrowing coins to trade?" he asked. "The trader said it could make me rich faster."
Benjamin's expression darkened. He slashed a line across the sea on the tapestry.
"That's margin trading, Eli.
It doesn't double your power—it doubles your peril.
A 50% loss when trading on borrowed coin can burn your entire fortune to ash.
Steer clear, or you'll sink before you sail."
Eli shivered, imagining his fortress crumbling under a mountain of debt.
"And those Warrant Scrolls?" he asked. "They're tied to big businesses—they seem safe."
Benjamin tore a corner of the tapestry.
"Warrants are a menace.
They create false value, promising astronomical gains with no foundation.
When the market turns, they collapse like a house of straw.
They exist to mislead, and they have no place in an investor's chest."
Eli's mind swirled. Everyone had advice—traders, friends, even his cousin swore by Starlight Crystals.
"How do I know whom to trust?"
Benjamin led him to a dusty shelf marked "False Oracles." He pulled out an old scroll from Moody's, a respected name filled with vague predictions.
"Even the trusted can mislead with Delphic riddles," he said.
"Brokers chase commissions, not your future.
Investment bankers serve their own coffers.
And your cousin?
Free advice is often worth what you pay for it—nothing.
Trust your own judgment, Eli, and always question the source."
Eli looked overwhelmed, but Benjamin handed him a small red box labeled "Emergency Plan."
"This is your Investment Policy Statement," he said.
"Write down your goals, your rules, and the actions you'll never take.
Review it once a year—and if you want to change it, justify it in writing.
Keep it locked inside this box, and open it only in moments of doubt."
Eli opened the lid in his mind, picturing rules etched in gold:
No StarCoins beyond mad money. No margin. No warrants. Buy only what's undervalued.
A sense of clarity surged within him.
"What about chasing the market's hottest businesses, like SkySmith Forges?" he asked. "Everyone says they're the future."
Benjamin walked to his mistake wall and pointed to a faded parchment.
"I once passed on a forge like that," he said.
"I thought it was all smoke and dreams—but I was wrong.
Still, even great businesses can be overpriced.
Don't chase growth when it's cloaked in speculation.
Stick to your Margin of Safety, and your wealth will last."
As Eli stepped out into the sunlight, the sirens' songs faded into background noise.
He held his red box close, ready to sail past temptation—with his rules as his compass, and discipline as his anchor.