Small Towns and a Silver Shackle

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Katherine Lane Middleston. Not exactly the name of a super heroine now is it. Mum always said I was named after Katherine the Great.
Named after one of the greatest queens in human history but I don't exactly live up to my name sake now do I?
I'm a shop keeper and junior craftsman at a jewelry store and I volunteer as a nurse at the small free medical clinic in town when I have the time. Not quite queen material if you ask me.
Wouldn't know the first thing about running a country but I can mend a few stitches and fashion a beautiful necklace if you like.

I used to read all these novels when I was a kid. Escape to different worlds all in the pages of a book. Every character was so unique. So wonderful and brave. They always had an insane backstory and a million things about them that you couldn't help but love or hate depending on the character.

I'm just me though. Simple boring Kate.
I was born on a rainy Tuesday in mid March 25 years ago. Yeah, a Tuesday. At least Tuesday have tacos going for them I guess...
My mom always said it was the kind of rain that was just kinda drizzly, sad, and gross outside. The kind that always manages to soak you down to your bones when you go outside. Makes you feel dreary and clammy and the droplets slide down your skin and the wind whips around you.

I grew up in Silver Cape. A sleepy town with one small central road winding straight through the town. At the heart of the town not far from the beaten down docks and fish market there's a tiny strip mall of shops all in a row. An old grocery store that's been rebought and remodeled a four times over the past sixty years, a nails salon named 'Nails', a Tiny Roman's pizza place, a chinese takeout restaurant, a Dollar Store, my father and I's jewelry store, the clinic, and last but not least, a mexican restaurant that's been renovated six times that's housed inside an old Burger Queen building.

Nothing and I mean nothing happens in this sleepy town. Nothing except your usual he said she said of a small town, that is. Nothing gets past Janice Makelroy and Mary Sue Johnson, that's for sure.

As a kid I dreamed I'd be something special. That the world was meant to be more...

I'm just Kate... Just a jewelry maker and a nurse. Not even a good one at that. Mum wanted me to be an actual doctor but I preferred actually being around people themselves. She never understood that nurses are inarguably more important to the medical profession. Dad just kinda went along with whatever mum said at the time and didn't bother arguing anymore, tired and weary of his long and broken marriage.

I never grew up in a closet under the stairs. I didn't descover magical powers or live in a dystopian society. There was nothing interesting or inherently exciting about me. I'm just me.
I could barely get my nursing license without falling apart under the sheer work load. I could never compare to the characters I looked up to when I was a child.

I sigh as morning light filters in through the jewelry shop windows. Normally I don't work on Saturdays but I have a meeting with a client who had requested a rather curious commissioned jewelry piece out of silver. Even just thinking about the piece makes me blush.
I can only imagine what it's intended use is for. It's not really my place to ask questions however. A customer fully intends to pay a rather hefty price, the piece has already been casted in silver, polished, and carved with the, what I can only describe as runes we'd been instructed to carve.

It was a truly remarkable item. I was really shocked when my father not only accepted the commission but allowed me to make it my passion project. I'd be meeting the clients for the first time, delivering the item as a finished product today.
Shackles of gleaming polished silver, carved in enscripted runes. The key for the shackles was equally as beautiful and carved but made of copper rather than silver. Rather long nights were spent wondering why the key was so different.

Even longer sleepless nights trying not to wonder what the beautiful shackles would be used for and who exactly would be using them. Such a massive amount of casted and enscripted silver came at a rather hefty price.

I walk around the jewelry cases towards the front of the room and unlock the front door. My hand pauses on the door for a moment and I peer out of the glass. Three identical black cars with tinted windows are parked outside as the sun sneaks over the horizon.

An uneasy feeling settles over me but I quickly shake it away. Jewelry needs polishing, a few rings need resizing, and old man harris's fog watch needs to be re-engraved and polished. Poor old thing is tarnished beyond belief and the old enscription is worn down again after years and years of use. I can't help but love repairing such beautiful pieces though. It's not often that you get to repair things that hold so much memory and life in them.

I sit down towards the back of the shop with a bit of polish and a case of rings that've been on display the past few weeks and get to work.

Time crawls by and the rain begins its miserable seaside drizzle when the shop bell to the door rings and startles me out of my work. I carefully set down the piece I'm working with, wipe the polish off my hands with a rag, and head towards the front of the shop just as a man enters to greet me.

Thankfully I look presentable enough. My long brown hair is braided back and out of the way. I'm wearing high waisted black shorts due to the heat and humidity and a green halter top shirt. Despite creating a lot of my own jewelry I don't often wear much. Today however I opted for a few silver bracelets on my wrists. They're dainty and look nice on my small wrists.

The first thing I notice about him is the way he carries himself as he steps inside. With a tall stature and an air of confidence. He stands strong, cool, unbothered, and unshakable. His gaze moves around the store in mild curiosity, landing on everything in vague interest. Everything except me.

"Welcome to Middleston and Daughter Jewelers, how can I help you?" I ask, rolling through the motions of customer service. His head just barely jerks towards the sound of my voice. I give him a question glance but he continues to avoid my gaze.

His black hair lays untidy due to the drizzled rain outside. He drags his hand through his hair as he moves towards the glase cases and scrutinizes the rings on display.
"I'm here to pick up the silver cuffs I ordered." He states in a low matter of fact tone.

"I've got it right here for you sir." I smile and reach into one of the back cases and pull out a large velvet box I prepared specifically for the object in question. Complimentary of course.

I hold it out and open the lid for him to inspect. He watches my movements carefully, more eyeing the box than anything else. Everything about him seemed curious and intriguing. 
He leans slightly over the counter, looking but not touching the piece.

"Your craftsmanship is remarkable. This is exactly what we needed, thank you. The attention to detail with each and every glyph is truly incredible."

He glances upwards and for the first time, our eyes meet and he freezes.

The world around me begins to spin, the edges of my vision fade away, all I can hear is two sets of heart beats ringing in my ears, each getting faster.
I begin to panic. I'm certain I'm going to lose consciousness until I feel his hand on my shoulder and a calm washes over me. Like a cold glass of water on a sweltering afternoon.
I can see him infront of me, steel grey eyes staring back at me, searching for something. I set down the box and reach out to him.
"Who are you?"
My hand comes to rest on his cheek and the silver of my bracelet slide against his warm skin. For a brief moment I swear there's almost a tingling sensation when my hand touches his skin before he jerks away from me in alarm and pain.
The world around me snaps back in place in an instant and I'm standing back at the counter and he's standing several feet away from me, wide eyed and holding his cheek in pain.

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