Her suggestion earns another silence from him, as he struggles with finding an answer that doesn't just sound irrational before he finally manages, "I... can't. I have to carry it, I don't care what it's doing. A lot of people died getting me that ring, and I wasted so much time being a coward about it... but I made a promise."

Don't let anyone else have it. She died for this. Dad died for this. It wasn't just destiny or the expectations of gods and kings that drove him to cling to the very thing that will destroy him one day - his body and soul, and now perhaps his mind as well - but the trust and faith of so many who fell before him to grant him this gift, this chance. He promised, and he owes their sacrifice more than what he's given thus far.

He lowers his head, shutting the journal and dismissing it back to the armory. "...I can't."