Two days had passed since Viktor and Arelos had struck a deal with Nolan, commissioning their venture into candle-making. Now, with the morning sun casting a protective warmth over Lycona, the boys found themselves once more approaching the blue door that marked Nolan's shop. The anticipation tingling in the air between them was palpable, a mix of eagerness and apprehension propelling their steps forward.
Nolan greeted them at the door with a wide smile, his demeanor as affable as it had been on their first visit. "Ah, good morning, lads! Right on time as promised," he called, waving them inside with a welcoming gesture. The shop was a hive of activity, the shelves showcasing an array of handmade candles in all shapes and sizes.
"Morning, Nolan," Viktor replied, his tone bright and easy as he followed Arelos into the cozy interior. "We’re here to pick up those candles, hoping these will be just the thing to light our path to success."
Nolan chuckled at the remark, appreciating the pun. "Well, let's hope so," he said, leading them to a sturdy wooden crate sitting on a corner workbench. "Here they are, forty fresh candles, all neatly prepared and ready for use. They came out quite well, if I do say so myself."
Arelos lifted the crate gently, testing its weight while Viktor leaned over to inspect the finished products more closely. "They look great," Viktor observed, his voice laced with genuine appreciation. "Thanks for the quality work, Nolan. It’s a good start to something that’ll hopefully catch on with the market."
Nolan inclined his head graciously, wiping his hands on an apron as he exuded the easy confidence of a craftsman proud of his work. "Always happy to help young entrepreneurs like yourselves," he replied. "Just remember, the market can be harsh, but it’s also full of potential."
Viktor reached into his pocket and handed over the eight coppers they’d agreed upon, the coins clinking softly as Nolan pocketed them with a nod. "Thank you for keeping to your word on the price," Viktor added sincerely.
"It’s all part of the business, lads," Nolan assured them, his smile genuine though tinged with a touch of seasoned wisdom. "You've got my best wishes for success, and you know where to find me if you need more. Always happy to support those willing to take a chance."
Arelos nodded, balancing the crate in his arms. "Thanks, Nolan," he said with a brief smile.
With that, they bid farewell to Nolan, their journey through the crafts district taking on a renewed focus.
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The boys headed to their familiar haunt, the bustling marketplace of the Burrows, with the crate of freshly-made candles securely in their grasp. It was a chilly morning, the air crisp and invigorating as it carried the scent of newly-baked bread and the sharp tang of various spices that intermingled with the snow-tinged breeze.
Viktor and Arelos moved through the throng as they approached the market, recalling the numerous times they had mingled among these very stalls, exchanging labor for sustenance and coin. Now, they faced a new challenge—selling their candles to turn a profit and forge their path.
The market buzzed with activity, vendors bustling around their stalls, organizing their wares with practiced ease. Customers filled the narrow passageways, bargaining with seasoned skill as each stall promised unique offerings at competitive prices.
As they approached, Arelos turned to Viktor, reiterating the financial stakes of their venture. “Alright, keep in mind,” Arelos cautioned, “our production cost is just under a copper each—0.875 to be precise—so we need to sell them for more than that to break even and hopefully turn a profit.”
Viktor nodded, his resolve unwavering despite the daunting task ahead.
After some searching, they found two vendors selling candles made similar to theirs at one copper each or in bundles of five for four coppers. Observing the prices, Viktor grimaced, aware of the financial squeeze they faced.
“Those prices are tight,” Viktor noted, glancing at Arelos and recognizing the same concern mirrored in his friend's features. “If we sell individually, we could just make a slight profit, but bundling would lead to losses.”
Determined to find a solution, they approached several vendors, inquiring if any were willing to buy stock, but no one offered more than three coppers for five candles, a price that spelled significant losses.
Their optimism waned as rejection followed one after another, each interaction a reminder of the competitiveness and challenges of the market.
Eventually, the boys encountered Brack, an amiable merchant they had helped in the past. Brack was busy setting up his stall, arranging various trinkets and pots with diligent care, and upon spotting the boys, he greeted them with a warm, albeit teasing grin.
“Well, if it isn’t the dynamic duo,” Brack chuckled, tipping his hat in a friendly gesture. “Saw you running around trying to sell those candles there. Trouble finding a buyer, eh?”
Arelos sighed, acknowledging the inquiry with a resigned nod. “Yeah, turns out the market's tighter than we expected. We’re still figuring things out.”
Brack’s gaze softened with a hint of sympathy as he assessed their situation. “You boys are trying hard,” he commended, an understanding sincerity coloring his voice. “I can display your wares here at the stall, but I’ll need a cut. Can’t work for free—permit for a stall doesn’t come cheap.”
Arelos exchanged a glance with Viktor, concern etched into his furrowed brow. “Right, and how would the split work?”
Brack scratched his chin thoughtfully as he considered the proposal. “I’ll try to sell them for as much as I can muster. Anything above 0.8 coppers per candle, we split evenly.”
Viktor calculated quickly, realizing Brack’s offer didn’t quite align with their costs. “We could still take a loss that way,” Viktor pointed out, his voice frank yet respectful.
Brack nodded in understanding, the empathy never leaving his expression. “I get it, boys. The market’s competitive. Maybe you’d have better luck with beeswax or trying a different area, but look around,” he gestured toward the bustling scene of throngs weaving through the lanes. “That’s just the nature of things.”
Sensing Brack’s genuine offer wasn’t tinged with deceit, Viktor met Arelos’s gaze, his determination resonating in his words. “Let’s leave half with Brack, see how it goes. We’ll try our luck in the Velvet District with the rest.”
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Agreeing upon this course, they handed over half of their stock to Brack, telling him that they'll be back to check on his progress later. With renewed resolve, they set off to the Velvet District, knowing they needed to adapt and remain persistent despite the setbacks.
“Not turning out as promising as we hoped,” Arelos lamented once they were out of earshot, the shadows of doubt casting long lines across his features.
Viktor sighed, both recognizing the weight of their challenge and finding hope amid the struggle. “Yeah, maybe. But let’s make our way to the Velvet District. Surely we can fetch a higher price there.”
They headed towards the Velvet District, guided by determination and hopes of finding better prices there.
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The boys arrived at the Velvet District market with a renewed sense of hope, the bustling thoroughfare alive with opulence and whispered deals. Here, merchants plied their wares with an air of polished sophistication, each stall a microcosm of refined tastes and discerning clientele.
Their eyes scanned the vibrant scene, seeking the perfect merchant among the rows of vivid stalls. Finally, they spotted a respectable-looking man presiding over a booth crowded with an assortment of trinkets and household goods, his discerning eye appraising each customer who approached.
With their crate of candles in tow, Viktor and Arelos approached the merchant, his initial expression of what seemed to be distaste swiftly replaced by a welcoming smile that barely concealed a hint of opportunism.
“Good morning, gentlemen!” the merchant greeted warmly, his voice oozing with charm as he evaluated his potential customers. “What can I do for you today?”
“Good morning,” Viktor replied, matching the man’s apparent enthusiasm with his own, albeit more cautious. “We’re hoping you might be interested in displaying our wares.” He gestured to the crate of candles beside them. “High-quality candles, ideal for the upscale clientele here in the district. We’re looking for someone who could sell them in exchange for a cut.”
“Oh, splendid! Simply splendid!” the merchant exclaimed, eyes widening with a strange, almost suspicious delight. “I’d be thrilled to assist you! Leave them with me, and I guarantee at least a copper per candle. Anything above, well,” he chuckled, “consider it my finder’s fee.”
Viktor glanced at Arelos, the promise more than satisfactory compared to what they faced in the Burrows. Their hesitation was tempered by the merchant’s seemingly genuine interest, and Arelos gave a subtle nod of agreement.
“You have a deal,” Viktor declared, extending a hand to seal the arrangement. "And might I ask your name, sir?" he inquired, seeking to cement a rapport beyond mere business.
The merchant took Viktor’s hand, shaking it with an air of exaggerated sincerity laced in practiced ease. "Rogo," he introduced himself with a sweeping gesture, "and it will be a pleasure doing business. Rest assured, I strive to satisfy those I conduct trade with."
“Great to meet you, Rogo,” Viktor replied, relief evident in his voice. “How long do you think it’ll take to sell them all?”
Rogo’s eyes glinted with an almost predatory gleam as he responded, “Oh, these will go in no time at all! I bet I’ll have it all turned into coin within an hour or two.”
Encouraged by the merchant’s confidence and a guaranteed return, Viktor and Arelos bid him farewell, promising to return later in the afternoon to check on his progress. Buoyed by their success, the boys strolled away from the Velvet District, their spirits lightened by newfound prospects.
As they made their way back toward the Burrows, Viktor voice his thoughts, his tone laced with optimism. “That man really seemed to like our candles. Nolan must be doing good work if that’s the reaction.”
Arelos hesitated for a moment, considering the situation with his usual cautious insight before speaking. “Yeah, that went better than expected. If this works out, we might have ourselves a decent profit margin.”
Viktor nodded, his steps bouncing with anticipation. “Let’s head to The Outrider’s Den. We’ve earned an early celebration, don’t you think?”
Arelos chuckled at Viktor’s suggestion, the prospect of a warm meal enticing him. “Fine. We can plan our next steps over lunch.”
The boys continued their walk, the allure of possibility melding with the comforting thought of a meal well-earned. Their venture felt validated by the merchant’s exuberance, and Viktor’s anticipation for what lay ahead only grew stronger.
The path to the Outrider’s Den was well-trodden, the tavern a familiar sanctuary amidst the uncertainty of their endeavors. Stepping inside, the warmth enveloped them, a gentle reminder of the support they found within its walls.
Bryna welcomed them with a nod, seating them at their usual spot. As they settled in, Viktor and Arelos fell into easy conversation, discussing the nuances of their strategy and the insights gained from their recent experiences.
As they recounted their morning achievements, Viktor couldn’t help but imagine the candles being swept up by eager patrons of the Velvet District. It was a vision interwoven with hope, underscored by a newfound sense of determination.
While they awaited their meals, Viktor turned to Arelos, his expression earnest. “If this venture proves successful, it might open more doors than we anticipated.”
Arelos agreed, though the pragmatist in him couldn’t quite shake off a lingering wariness. “True,” he acknowledged, “but let’s maintain our awareness. Opportunities often come with their own set of uncertainties.”
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The boys lounged comfortably at their usual spot in The Outrider’s Den, the warmth from the stove nearby keeping the winter chill at bay. Bryna glanced over from her duties at the bar, a smile playing at her lips as she watched the young duo. Business was slow this afternoon, allowing her the freedom to engage in light conversation with her favorite patrons.
Bryna approached them with a casual air, carrying a steaming pot of fresh cider to warm the sluggish room. “You two look like cats that got into the cream,” she remarked, pouring a mug for herself before offering some to the boys. “What’s got you in such good spirits today?”
Viktor leaned back in his chair, a self-assured grin lighting up his face. “We’ve taken a step into the business world!” he declared proudly, catching Bryna’s raised eyebrow with amusement. “Consider yourself in the company of future successful entrepreneurs.”
Bryna chuckled, shaking her head at Viktor’s enthusiasm. “Is that so? What venture have you two cooked up now?” she asked, genuinely curious.
Viktor flashed a playful grin, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as he recounted their morning’s endeavors. “We’ve secured a deal to sell candles,” he divulged, excitement threaded through his words.
Bryna nodded in appreciation, yet there was a playful edge in her gaze. “So, does that mean I can’t count on my extra helpers anymore? Or should I hold onto hope that those supposed fortunes don’t interfere with your shifts?” She shot them a teasing glance, testing their resolve.
Viktor, caught up in the buoyancy of the moment, opened his mouth to respond confidently, but Arelos quickly interjected, cutting him off with words of caution. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Arelos stated pragmatically, his calm tone a stark contrast to Viktor’s exuberance. “We’re still in the testing phase. No telling yet how it’ll all turn out.”
Bryna chuckled, nodding at Arelos. “Always the sensible one, aren’t you?” she teased, but there was respect in her voice.
The conversation ebbed and flowed as the afternoon lingered on. Bryna, with her innate ability to read people, picked up snippets of Viktor and Arelos’ plans, offering the occasional word of advice gathered from her own years in business. They listened attentively, soaking in her insights and suggestions.
Meanwhile, Viktor, ever the social butterfly, struck up conversations with other patrons who wandered by, exchanging stories and news of the city. Arelos watched him with a slight smile, knowing well that Viktor’s affable nature was often an asset in their ventures.
Hours slipped by in this pleasant ease, the warm atmosphere of the tavern wrapping them in a cocoon against the biting cold outside.
Eventually, Arelos noticed the fading golden light streaming through the tavern’s small, grime-streaked windows, a subtle reminder of the hours slipping by. His expression turned contemplative. “Maybe it’s time we check in on that merchant, see how our sales are going,” he suggested, nudging Viktor gently out of his comfortable reverie.
Viktor stretched lazily, his curiosity piqued at the thought of their success. “We’ve given it a good few hours,” he agreed, a note of anticipation creeping into his voice. “Let’s see if Rogo’s managed to work some magic with our candles.”
With a sense of purpose reignited, they said their goodbyes to Bryna, promising to return with tales of their business ventures. Bryna waved them off with a fond chuckle, wishing them luck with a reminder to keep their wits about them in the larger dealings of life.