Part-14

Grinning eagerly, Ben produced his burlap sack and spread the batch of twenty freshly carved toys across his entry mat. The men peered closer, oohing and ahhing over the finer details and craftsmanship compared to prior samples.

Soon enough, Ben had parted with five of the new vehicles in exchange for a handful of bronze coins. As the enthusiasts headed off and Ben began setting up his sidewalk stand for the day, he couldn't help but grin to himself.

Lady Luck's radiance indeed seemed to be shining his way now, sending purchasers actively seeking him out rather than Ben having to aggressively peddle his wares for notice as in days past. Between yesterday's youngster ambassadors heralding these novel toys and new samples demonstrating Ben's speedily advancing woodworking prowess, coveted curiosity was organically spreading.

Soon enough he imagined cartfuls of exotic merchandise would be rolling in and out of this previously dreary corner shop. But for now, he relished the humble upswing taking hold as he laid out the day's spread and took in the crisp morning air, grateful to be exactly where he was in that moment.

As the afternoon sun dipped lower in the bustling marketplace, casting an amber glow on the cobblestones, Ben leaned back in his rickety chair and exhaled contently. It had been an unexpectedly prolific day peddling his artisan wooden toys and figures thanks to young Skyla's enthusiastic endorsement. Word of his humble stand must have rippled rapidly through the upper crust social circles.

Throughout the morning and into the midday rush, a steady procession of extravagantly dressed ladies had paused to critically inspect Ben's wares before selecting a piece for their precocious sons and daughters.

As he dropped a newly earned handful of bronze coins into his battered lockbox with a satisfying clink, Ben glanced up to see yet another finery-clad woman approaching with a small boy in stylish short pants trotting beside her. The bright-eyed youngster made a beeline for Ben's shelves, immediately grabbing a carved choo-choo train and sending its wheels spinning.

"Mama mama, look!" the boy exclaimed. "It's just like Skyla Chan's! She was showing everyone hers yesterday and I want one too!" Ben could barely suppress a grin - it seemed his instincts had been exactly right. The social hierarchy here placed immense pressure to keep up appearances and "save face" with status symbols, even amongst the children. Skyla's satisfaction with her purchased bauble had sparked a viral peer trend.

"Ah excellent taste, young sir!" Ben said smoothly with a small bow. This "personal shopping concierge to the elite" persona was one he could definitely adapt to. "You have a discerning eye for only the finest crafted playthings in the realm."

The woman glanced between Ben and the eager gleam in her son's round face. "Well Quinton darling, if you insist, I suppose we can procure this little trifle for you," she proclaimed in a lofty, indulgent tone. After paying Ben's modest asking price, which he suspected was mere pocket change for this social sphere, the satisfied pair carried on their way, Quinton swinging the carved train by its cord as if he had acquired a prized trophy to show off to his companions.

Yes, the "FOMO clientele" was proving to be a rather lucrative avenue indeed! Ben leaned back once more, interlacing his fingers behind his head with profound fulfillment. Who needed magic when a few expertly shaped hunks of wood could bring such joy and line one's pockets so handsomely at the same time? He glanced over at his supply shelves, noting he only had a handful of unique carved toys remaining in stock. If demand kept up at this rate courtesy of Skyla and Quinton's testimonials, he would need to harvest more lumber and burn the midnight oil crafting new pieces.

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The leveled stacks of timber logs Liam had so generously hauled over a few days ago reminded Ben of this necessity. Liam's stalwart support filled Ben with the courage to pursue this entrepreneurial livelihood despite the backbreaking labor it entailed. He would be ready with axe in hand to fell a few more giants when Liam arrived!

Presently, Ben glanced up from his budgeting notes to see yet another youngster bounding eagerly toward the sales counter, his embroidered tunic suggesting a noble upbringing.

Part-15

The rosy-cheeked boy was the splitting image of Quinton from earlier, confirming Ben's assumption that word of his toy shop was indeed rippling through wealthy circles via the children's grapevine.

But rather than seizing an item straightaway, this newcomer eyed Ben's remaining trinkets curiously before glancing back up. "Pardon me, kind shopkeeper," the boy asked in a courteous tone. "But have you any spinning tops for sale today? I witnessed Skyla and Quinton with newfound toys they acquired here and hoped you might have a top like those my cousin Celia had from the eastern villages."

Ben mentally rummaged through the assortment of carving scraps in the back room workshop that might be fashioned into makeshift spinning tops on the lathe. He gave the boy a reassuring smile. "Indeed, another shipment of those exotic spinning mysteries is set to arrive come morning my good lad!" This was of course a total fabrication - Ben would be burning lantern oil through the wee hours whittling if this clever young marketer's interest held. "Might I interest you in revisiting tomorrow once our new inventory is stocked?"

The child beamed enthusiastically, taking Ben's elusive bait. "Oh yes, kind sir! I shall alert my companions at once regarding these new curiosities. Your talents and selections are the talk of our circles - Quinton boasted all through mathematics lessons of the fine playthings he procured here just this morning!" Ben chuckled inwardly at this innocent confirmation of the viral word-of-mouth promotion among noble children he had shrewdly tapped into.

As the beaming boy scampered off, Ben quickly set to sketching out spinning top designs, mentally calculating the quantities needed to meet what now looked to be ballooning demand if this artisan craftsman persona kept gaining cache. The workshop had scarce days to ramp up production. But no matter - sleep could wait when inspiration and income called so profoundly!

As the afternoon sun dipped low over the bustling marketplace, casting everything in a warm amber glow, Ben leaned against the rough wooden post holding up his stall's awning. It had been another productive day thanks to word spreading about his hand-carved toys, though the lion's share of sales resulted from young Skyla's enthusiastic endorsement to her noble friends. He had whittled through his entire initial batch of wooden carriages - twenty pieces all told

Ben smiled contently, gazing down at the bulging coin purse on his hip. Nearly 80 bronze bits jangled inside - not a fortune by any means, but more than enough to afford him some hearty suppers and a few new tools for several days' toils. As weary children trailed their shopkeep parents heading home after the market closed, Ben's own energy swelled eager to commence more carving.

The "Shopkeeper System" interface hovered patiently at the corner of his vision. "System Points: 160" it displayed in glowing ivory characters, close to 97% of the 5,000 points mysteriously required to "Activate" the arcane program. It was an intriguing puzzle to be sure, but Ben remained undaunted. Twenty toys crafted by own hand and sold in a single day marked rousing initial success by any merchant's standard, mystical or not.

After loading his wheelbarrow, Ben latched the creaky wooden shutters of his stall and began trundling his wares down the lamplit streets. The humble home inherited from his parents lay just a thirty-minute walk from the market square - a cozy timber and plaster cottage nestled against Everwood's ancient forest verge. Though modest in scale, the site granted Ben ample workshop space and ready access to lumber and wild game. He ought to pay old Liam another visit soon to thank him properly. Sturdy cartloads of evergreen logs yet remained, but craftsmen knew the folly of idling once inspiration struck!

As Ben crossed the threshold into the darkened family abode, musty air sighing from corners left sealed during recent years away in the city, he paused to light candles throughout the front room and adjoining kitchen. Their flickering glow soon returned warmth and familiarity to the space. After stashing his coin pouch safely in a hidden wall niche and conferring affectionate pats to the pocket watch and modern ballpoint pen still accompanying him from Earth across dimensional bounds, Ben eagerly hauled the wheelbarrow's cargo to his late father's wood shop.

The small outbuilding had survived decades of Everwoods' bitter winters remarkably untouched, likely thanks to mystic wards laid during its construction. Hand-adzed oak beams branching overhead supported steeply pitched shingled roofing to shed heavy snow loads. Organized workbenches and racks of carpentry implements occupied half the workshop's footprint, while stacks of unfinished timber and assorted burls lined the rear wall.