Riley looked at them, silent.
For all his power, all his wisdom, he couldn't argue with the calm clarity in their voices.
"You've already given us everything," his father said. "You've made us proud. You've protected this city. You've honored our name. And now, it's your time to go even farther. To reach places we could never dream of. We'll always be here when you come back."
He tried once more to change their minds, not out of selfishness, but love.
The thought of losing them—of leaving them behind in a mortal world—gnawed at him.
But their decision was final.
They had made peace with staying.
In the end, Riley simply nodded and left the pills with them, wrapped in a silk cloth and tucked neatly into the box his mother kept near the teapot.
A simple thing that now held a key to five thousand years of life.
Later that night, Riley stood on the rooftop of the home where he was born.
The city below was quiet now, the celebrations finally done.
