Kimandra Loval Chapter one

I woke up screaming and tangled in my bed sheets. Then I began to remember something… something… Then it was gone. So I unraveled myself out of my bedcovers and silently hoped that I had not awoken Mariene, Warrann, or my mother.

These nightmares occurred every night. It's been happening for weeks now. And each time, I’d wake up scared to death about… something. But I could never remember what they were about.

I sat for a moment, gripping my wrinkled sheets from a restless sleep. There were wet stains from sweat in blotches, so I wiped my forehead to find it dripping. I hate nightmares.

I stood up silently and glanced over at Mariene and Warrann. They were undisturbed. My 3 year old brother and sister were still sleeping peacefully. I watched them breathe steadily for a moment, then checked my watch. I should be heading to the shop soon.

I sighed, looking at the ancient hands ticking across the rusted face of the watch, the glass was cracked and the leather bound around my wrist was fraying. But My father gave it to me, and his father had it given it to him and his father to him and on for centuries.

I rubbed my eyes and began readying myself for the day. Pinning my red hair back loosely in braids, sliding on the once vibrant blue denim jacket from my mother, then shoving my feet into boots I had bought myself a year ago.

My father was a sort of blacksmith in the kingdom. He worked with anything, from diamonds to molten rock. From crowns to a pair of pliers. And I would help him with the nicer, more intricate things. We’ve designed bracelets for the lords and ladies of Castle Boundaries, cups and wine glasses for the parties and even the rare dagger for a former warrior.

The air was crisp and cold, biting my nose as I walked outside. The bakery was already lit with candles and I could smell the aroma of freshly baked sweetbread. My father had probably begun shaping the metal for our next project. There’d been rumors that another blacksmith’s shop had been given the assignment of crafting a regal crown for the king, and me and my father were usually scrambling to prove ourselves to be better than them.

I looked past the bakery to see the war wrecks. Almost every day I would pause to stare. This was where the war died out nearly twenty years ago, the place where a woman named Katirina Lefneski had stood at the near start of the war. There wasn’t much about Katirina Lefneski, except that she was the first one to rebel, the first was to be altered in the lab, the first para-human.

Para-humans were monsters, a lab experiment gone wrong in the days between royal monarchy. They looked like humans, talked like humans, but they weren’t. They had para-normal gifts (hence the name para-human) and used them solely for the destruction of us humans.

Katirina Lefneski was the most monstrous of them she was the queen of the para-human, she challenged Queen Vulkanya the Brave and lost miserably, burned at the stake in front of the whole kingdom. Then the war lasted for centuries.

My grandparents were part of the final battle that killed the rest of the para-humans. It was a few years before I was born. And there are rumors that some para-humans survived the bombing. And that they'd choose someone to lead the attacks. But I didn't believe those things. The para-humans were dead and never coming back. And standing here was a waste of time.

“Kim!” My father smiled as he saw me through the shop window. He beckoned for me to go faster. So, quickening my pace, I burst through the door and placed my overcoat on the rack. But there was a coat I didn’t recognize on it. I stopped dead in my tracks and saw a man standing aside my father. He wore a palace suit, a fancy velvet and silk outfit.

“Kimandra,” he bowed slightly “a pleasure to meet you.”

I stood, slack jawed at his expensive getup. Suddenly feeling self conscious of my nearly worn out clothes. I felt my face go red and my father gave me a pointed look. I bowed clumsily, nearly losing my balance.

“And you, sir.” I stuttered. A palace official. In our shop. My breath was shaky and my palms were sweaty. This could mean one thing.

“I was just discussing with your father the matter at hand with the royal family.” He said smoothly.

“Yes, I had heard that another shop had been given the assignment of designing crowns..?” I shook with each word. If it were true, the kingdom wouldn’t need two blacksmith shops.

“Oh, the rumors you Lelik people create.” The official chuckled to himself. “No, but you have to promise not to tell anyone the assignment I’ll be giving you…”

“Yes sir.” My father and I said in equal surprise.

“This is confidential information.” He said. “King Henriss is dying.”

There was a small moment when his words sunk in. Our King, our beloved king, was dying. My mouth dropped again, and so did my father’s.

“Princess Craunia is going to be crowned Queen directly after the period of mourning.” He took something out of his pocket. “These are the crown designs that she has come up with. You are assigned to pick three to make for her to choose from.”

My father and I clutched the papers. Staring at the official in silence. This was an honor. To design anything for the princess. Let alone what she would be wearing as she was crowned. Especially a crown.

“I give thanks on behalf of the royal family. You have one week to decide the designs and make the crowns. The princess will see you then.” The official grabbed his coat off the rack. My father and I were still frozen in awe.

I shook myself out of the daze and bowed as he left. “Thank you sir, we are truly honored.” He gave me a curt nod and left.

My father and I listened to his footsteps until they faded. I started laughing in disbelief. My father hugged me, laughing as well. We were both still trembling from the experience.

“So, we should look at the designs.” My father sat down at the design table. We unfolded the designs for crowns. There were so many of them. Falling like snowflakes all over the table and floor. I gasped in awe. There must've been designs from over the princess’s entire life.

There were simple three pointed yellow colored crowns that clearly a young child drew to detailed crowns with shaded jewels and dimensions that were drawn more recently.

“We have our work cut out for us.” My father said. He switched the sign on the door from ‘open’ to ‘closed’. Then we flew into action. The hardest part would be choosing the crown design to create, then we would go on from there.

My father cleared a space on the floor and we organized the sketches in order of detailment. There were over one hundred different types of crowns. We then began to pair the designs that looked fairly similar.

“Father,” I broke the concentrated silence that hung around us. “What would happen if we didn’t succeed in making the right crown?” I sounded childish and scared as I asked.

“Either our shop would be terminated…” My father looked me in the eyes. “Or we would.” I blinked and returned to the tedious work. Sorting and sorting and sorting.

I remember these days with fondness. I wish my problems were as small and simple as this. Because my life was about to get a whole lot worse.