Economic Trust

The morning sun had barely crested the horizon when a commotion stirred in the village square. Lyrasia, rubbing sleep from her eyes, pushed through the gathered crowd only to find a squat, mustached man standing atop a wooden crate, jingling a pouch of strange metal discs.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" the merchant announced. "Behold! The future of trade—gold, silver, and copper coins! No longer must you lug sacks of turnips just to buy a spool of thread!"

The villagers exchanged dubious glances.

"I trust potatoes more than some shiny metal," grumbled old man Jovan, arms crossed.

"Aye," a woman agreed. "At least you can eat potatoes."

Lyrasia watched, intrigued. She had never used coins before, but the logic made sense. Carrying a pocketful of metal was easier than herding chickens just to buy a loaf of bread. Still, the villagers resisted, stubbornly clutching their goods.