The next morning, Leon packed the candles carefully in a small wooden crate lined with cloth, making sure none of them would chip or crack on the way. The air was cool and crisp as he, Clara, Elise and Kara set out, the faint scent of beeswax still clinging to their clothes.
When they reached the inn, the door was propped open, and the sound of sweeping and clattering dishes filled the air. Master Harn looked up from behind the counter, his brows lifting when he saw the crate in Leon's hands.
"Ah, you're back already," Harn said with a grin. "Don't tell me you've brought those miracle lights you promised?"
Leon smiled, setting the crate gently on the counter. "See for yourself."
Clara helped him lift one candle out and place it on a nearby table. Leon struck a flint and touched the spark to the wick. The flame sprang to life — steady, golden, and strong even in the drafty room.
For a moment, the innkeeper said nothing. He just watched the light flicker across the tabletops, softening the rough wooden edges and painting the room in a warm glow.
"Well, I'll be…" Harn murmured, stepping closer. "No smoke, no sputtering… and it's bright, too. That's finer than anything I've seen from the merchants."
Leon folded his arms, hiding a hint of pride.
Harn rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You could sell these, lad. Every inn, every tavern, even the temples would want them."
"That's the plan," Leon said quietly. "But I'll start small. You can test them here first — see if they live up to your expectations."
The innkeeper chuckled. "You've got yourself a deal. Leave me a few, and if they keep my place bright through the night, I'll pay double for the next batch."
Leon nodded, setting three candles carefully on the counter. "They should last you through the night and well into the morning," he said. "Keep them away from the drafts — they burn best in still air."
"I'll come by tomorrow," Leon said, turning toward the door. "If you're satisfied, we'll talk about a larger order."
"What next," Kara, who was happy being around them, asked.
Leon glanced down at her with a faint smile as they stepped outside. The morning light glinted off the crate's brass hinges, and a cool breeze carried the smell of bread and smoke from the market square.
"What's next?" he repeated, adjusting the strap on his shoulder. "Give out more samples to other taverns and businesses."
"Why are we giving out free candles to others?" Elise asked with curiosity.
"Yes, won't you be making a loss?" Clara supported her.
Leon smiled faintly, not breaking stride as they walked down the cobbled road. "This advertisement," he admitted.
"What is that?" They asked with a confused look.
Leon chuckled softly. "Advertisement," he repeated, glancing between them. "It means showing people what you can do before asking them to pay for it."
Clara tilted her head. "So… like a demonstration?"
"Exactly," Leon said, nodding. "If they see the candles burn brighter and without smoke, they'll come looking for me — and then we start making real profit."
Elise frowned in thought. "So you give a little to gain a lot."
"That's the idea," Leon replied with a grin.
Clara's eyes lit up with understanding. "That's clever," she said, a note of admiration in her tone. "Most merchants just shout about their goods in the market."
Leon shrugged lightly. "Words fade fast. But if someone sees something work with their own eyes, they remember it — and talk about it."
Kara skipped a step ahead, swinging her arms. "Then everyone will talk about your candles!"
Leon chuckled. "That's the plan. Once people start asking where they can buy them, I won't have to say a thing."
As they walked, the town stretched before them — the hum of trade, the calls of vendors, and the soft rhythm of cart wheels over stone. They made stops once in a while to distribute the remaining candles to shopkeepers, bakers, and inn owners who greeted them with curious looks. Some were skeptical, others intrigued, but most accepted the candles after Leon's demonstration.
By noon they had given out all the candles but they were famished so together they went to Master Harn for lunch.
The warm scent of roasting meat and fresh bread greeted them as they stepped into Master Harn's inn. The chatter of patrons and clinking of mugs filled the air, giving the place a lively, welcoming atmosphere.
"For the first time someone's serving me," Elise said as the food arrived at their table.
Leon gave her a faint smile. "Don't worry. From now on, you don't have to work here anymore."
Elise quickly shook her head. "No, that's not what I meant—"
"I know," Leon interrupted gently. "But I don't like seeing you work like that. Before, you had no choice. Now you do. If you want, I can even help you start your own inn."
Elise blinked, her small hands hovering over the steaming bowl before her. "Our own inn?" she whispered, voice tinged with awe and uncertainty.
Leon nodded, his expression calm but resolute. "Yes. Both of you. You've learned a lot here, and you're clever. I can help you set things up — teach you what I know, and give you a start."
Clara's eyes widened, a mixture of excitement and disbelief. "You… you would do that for us?"
"Why not?" Leon said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "With all the recipes I know, Clara's incredible cooking, and your way with people, this inn is bound to be a hit."
The girls' eyes sparkled, their smiles brightening as if they could already see it—laughter echoing through the dining hall, the scent of fresh bread, and the warm glow of a place they could call their own.
Kara, who had been quiet until now, hesitated before asking, "What about me?"
Leon's gaze softened. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten you. You already know medicine from your mother, and I'll help you and your mother start your own clinic."
A thrill of possibility ran through them all, as if the future had suddenly unfolded before their eyes, full of promise they had never dared imagine.
"But first, we need to sell the candles," Leon said quietly, his voice grounding them. "Once we have the money, we can start investing."
After lunch it was time to stock more raw materials for candle making which was basically beeswax and hemp for the wick. The streets were lively in the afternoon sun, vendors calling out their wares and the scent of baked bread and roasting meat mixing in the air.
Leon led them first to the honey stall where he had bought honey and the kind woman gave him the beeswax for free. When the woman saw him he waved at him with a smile as she welcomed them.
Leon waved back, grateful for the woman's generosity. He carefully selected the largest, most solid chunks of beeswax, knowing they would produce the cleanest, brightest candles. Clara and Elise helped him load the pieces into their satchel, careful not to let any crumble.
"Thank you," Leon said, handing her thirty copper coins.
"This is too much," she protested, reaching to return them, but Leon gently stopped her.
"It's alright," he said with a small smile. "I'd like to hire you to gather more beeswax for me in the future."
With the beeswax secured, Leon led them to the next stop — the hemp stall. Long, fibrous strands were stacked neatly in bundles, and Leon examined each, feeling for the right thickness and flexibility for wicks. Clara and Elise held the bundles as he and Kara measured and selected the best ones, making sure they had enough for several batches of candles.
By the time they finished, the satchel was full, the afternoon sun warm on their backs, and the four of them headed home.
Once inside, the older women helped them set up a workspace. The room filled with the soft hum of activity — melting wax, dipping wicks, and the occasional clink of molds being set aside. As the afternoon waned, the golden light from the setting sun streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the table.
After sunset, they lit a few candles to check the burn and consistency, their flickering glow illuminating the determined faces around the table. The warm light danced across the walls as they continued their work, pouring, shaping, and trimming.
Hours passed unnoticed. By the time the last piece of beeswax was used, they stepped back and counted their creations: more than six hundred candles.
He ran the numbers quietly in his head. Six coppers apiece for individual buyers, five for bulk orders… if every candle sold, he'd make between twenty and thirty silver coins. A tidy sum — more than most people in the town earned in a single month.
After long hours of working everybody was tired so they ate and went straight to sleep.
Clara and Elise insisted on sleeping with him as they had missed him so they occupied his left and right side squeezing him in the middle. With a resigned smile, he wrapped an arm around each of them, offering quiet comfort. Slowly, their breathing evened out, and one by one, they sank into a deep, peaceful slumber. The soft glow of the remaining candles cast gentle shadows across the room, filling the space with warmth and safety after the long day's work.