Aiko swept the dust from her trading post's porch at dawn. The weathered building had served her for years, but its cramped walls now choked her ambition. She wanted more. She wanted every traveler in the region to know her name. She dragged a brightly painted cart into the open sand. Baskets of spices, clay jars, and woven cloth spilled across its wooden boards. Merchants would see the variety before they saw her door. Then she hauled out timber and nails. By noon, a tall wooden sign stood beside the road, its bold letters welcoming all who passed. Aiko wiped sweat from her brow and grinned. By dusk, three caravans had already stopped. Coins clinked into her palm faster than she could count. But as the last buyer rode off, she glanced at her tiny shop and frowned. The post was too small now. She would need to build something bigger, and soon.