Morning after the mill's successful launch.
Arthur arrived expecting to inspect the machine. Check the bearings. Review the wear patterns. Ensure everything was functioning within acceptable parameters.
Instead, he found a queue.
Not merchants. Craftsmen. Dozens of them, crowded around the mill entrance, arguing, gesturing, waving their hands. A carpenter wanted mechanical saw power. A blacksmith wanted automated bellows. A grain merchant wanted another grinding stone. A textile worker wanted a powered spinning wheel. A stone cutter wanted mechanical polishing.
Everyone was arguing.
Zack stood in the middle of the crowd, arms raised, trying to maintain order. His voice was hoarse. His expression was exhausted.
Arthur pushed through the crowd. "What's happening?"
Zack turned, relief flooding his face. "Your river has become popular."
Arthur looked toward the waterwheel. It was turning steadily, its wooden spokes catching the morning light.
