Eli walked through Learnville's market square, confidence budding after surviving the storm of Weaver's Wool. His red box, etched with his Investment Policy Statement, felt like a talisman now—steady, grounding, trusted.
Yet a quiet doubt lingered.
His investment was small. The market's daily swings mocked his patience.
How could such modest beginnings ever become the towering wealth Benjamin promised?
That evening, as the sky blushed with twilight, Eli returned to the Great Library. But instead of Benjamin, a stranger stood at the gate, cloaked in a robe that shimmered with the colors of time, ever-shifting.
Their voice was like wind across forgotten centuries.
"Eli of Learnville," they said, "I am Chronos, Keeper of Time. Benjamin sent me to show you the secret of true wealth."
Eli's breath caught.
"Chronos? Are you… a sage like Benjamin?"
The figure smiled, ageless and kind.
"I am not a sage. I am the force that turns seeds into forests and moments into eras. Follow me."
In a hidden chamber of the library, a massive oak table glowed faintly, engraved with symbols of coins and clocks. At its center sat a single golden acorn, pulsing with light.
"What's this?" Eli asked.
"The seed of compounding," Chronos replied. "Wealth is not built by chasing sparks—it grows when you plant your coins in great businesses and let time do its work. Take your Weaver's Wool: steady profits, strong roots. Hold it, and each dividend sows new seeds. That is how wealth multiplies."
Eli turned the glowing acorn in his palm.
"But it's… slow. Vara says I could double my coins in a week with Starlight Crystals."
The chamber dimmed.
Chronos's tone sharpened.
"Vara chases fire. Fire burns bright, then out. True wealth is a river, not a flame."
They gestured to the table, which shimmered to show a vision:
A single coin, invested in a great business, growing 10% each year.
After one year: 1.1 coins.
After ten years, more than two.
After thirty? Nearly nine.
"That's compounding, Eli. The quiet miracle of time and discipline."
Eli's eyes widened. He imagined his investments like saplings, each branch grown from past patience.
"So I just… hold?"
"Hold the right businesses," Chronos said. "Strong roots. Proven profit. Bought with your Margin of Safety. Then let me—Time—do the rest. Don't dig up seeds to check if they've grown."
Chronos reached into their robe and handed Eli a small hourglass, its sand glowing faintly.
"When the market tempts you to act, turn this over. Watch the sand.
Let time pass before decisions are made.
Wealth grows not by speed, but by staying the course."
Eli stepped back into the night, the market square flickering with noise and fire. But he barely heard it.
His red box rested at his side.
His acorn glowed softly in his palm.
And in his pocket, the hourglass of patience whispered the wisdom of time.