---
Simple ink. Simple promise. The flyer says:
Fizz Holdings
Tools, Blades, Repairs
Fair Price, Clean Work
No Questions for Honest Buyers.
She had also placed a few in the black market. Not because she expected criminals to become loyal customers. Because rumors travel faster when thieves whisper them.
For the first hour, nothing happened. For the second hour, nothing happened again.
Kel sighed. "We have sold air."
Orna snorted. "Air is free. We are losing."
Gael didn't move from his ledger. "Shops do not bloom in one morning," he said. "Patience."
Edda tapped her fingers once on the counter, then stopped. She could feel the academy far away like a wall between John and this place. She did not like walls she could not climb.
At last, a man came in.
He looked like a farmer who had been forced to become brave because tools break whether you are ready or not. He held a worn knife in his hand, its edge chipped, its handle wrapped in cloth like a bandage.
