I know it's short, but it's something... :D constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.

Legend of the Dreamers
Part Two: The Warning

Ketya of Village 3

Age: 16

Occupation: Bellpull(Chosen)

Expiration: Undecided at Present

NOTES: This one must be watched. He has been Chosen for a great, influential role, but we cannot know yet if he will remain loyal and silent. He has not yet learned the secret behind his parents early Expirations; this can only be to the good. Should the boy learn the truth, it could force the Dream long ago discovered to come to pass. We must watch this one secretly and carefully. DO NOT ACT UNLESS HE PROVES ACTIVELY DANGEROUS. We cannot risk the Villagers resisting, as they probably will should a child Expire early…

o.o.o

General Alton studied the Village entry before him, a slightly concerned frown on his face. His predecessor, Doron, had written this only days before the Governor had ordered his public execution. As of yet, no one else knew of this particular set of files. Alton glanced around his study, making sure no one, not even one of the Dreamer servants, was in the room; he was alone, as he had been for the past several hours. Sighing, he ran a hand over his thick beard, muttering under his breath, "Doron, what in Erador were you going on about?"

The Dreamers had long since lost their powers; the Regency had made sure of that. When they had come to power almost a century ago, they had done so totally and completely. Anyone with the ability to resist them had been… removed. The Dreamers had posed the greatest threat, and so they had been taken and made useful, their Dreams reduced to less than nothing. It was nonsense and crazy talk that a Dream could possibly still be at work in the present day. Unless…

No, that was ridiculous. There were no Dreamers left. The ability had been long since squashed out of the Villages, and they had never existed among the Cityfolk. Alton smiled, satisfied in his reasoning.

"Still," he told himself out loud, since there was, after all, no one to hear him, "never hurts to be careful. This boy is from Village Three…" He dug around in his desk, emerging a moment later with a quiet but triumphant, "Ha!" In his hand, he had a letter from the Thane of Village Three. He had received it only yesterday and had paid it little attention. Letters from the Villages rarely were of any importance, but this one he might be able to use. Thane Haran had asked for a new squadron of soldiers for whatever reason. Alton had planned on ignoring him, but with this new information about "Ketya" or whatever his name was, it might be prudent.

Glancing at the clock and growling- it was far too late to still be working, but unless he wanted to end up like Doron, he had no choice- Alton reached across his desk and rang the small handbell that called the servants. After this, barring any other unforeseen problems or circumstances, he could go sleep. Finding new recruits, training new recruits, and dealing with the veterans was enough; he had done all that before, leaving the paperwork to Doron. Now, with the old General gone, he had to shoulder all of it until he found someone to take his old job. Alton groaned aloud, resting his face in his hands.

All was silent for a moment, then the shuffling footsteps of the Dreamer servant he had been given broke through his depressed thoughts. Quickly, the new General raised his head and sat up straighter. No sense appearing anything less than the perfect General, even to the servants. The man who had been assigned to Doron and now to Alton stood silently, his mostly-blank eyes staring at the desk instead of the man. That was good; they had to learn they were less even than the putrid Villagers. With their ability to Dream stripped from them, they were hardly even human anymore.

"Good, you were quick this time. Even you fools can learn, it seems," Alton informed his servant, looking for a reaction that he never got. The surgery had removed their ability to feel emotions, too, along with Dreaming and any original thought. All they were good for now was following simple orders, but since that was what was wanted anyway, it worked out. Alton smiled, loving the feeling of complete and utter power he had over this man. This man who had once been something great and now was nothing. After a long couple of minutes, Alton got bored and decided to just go and do what he'd called the fool for.

"Go to the Captain's quarters and bring Captain Orell to me. Quickly, now!" The servant bowed slightly and shambled away. Alton watched him go, hiding his amusement behind an angry mask. Once the man was gone, he allowed himself a laugh at the halfwit's expense. To think the Regency had been afraid of something so weak. It really was ridiculous.

Still chuckling, the General reached for a sheet of paper and his favorite fountain pen. Much as he enjoyed talking to Captain Orell, he really wanted to get sleep sometime that night. It was better, anyway, to have written orders for him. Alton smiled to himself as he heard the distant, heavy footsteps that announced Orell's imminent arrival. Seconds later, the Captain strode into his General's study, eyes sparking.

"General, was it really necessary to drag me away from the barracks in the middle of a game of cards?" He slammed his rather impressive fists into the general's desk. "I was winning that game!" Alton raised an eyebrow, waiting until he knew Orell was finished whining before slapping his orders down on the table.

"Your games hardly matter right now, Captain." Normally, he liked Orell; the young man was entertaining, useful, and talented. He was one of the youngest Captains the Regency had at the moment, although not the youngest in their history. Alton shook his head slightly, annoyed with himself for letting his tired mind wander. Before Orell could comment on his brief inattention, he shoved the freshly written page of orders towards the captain, curtly informing him, "You are being reassigned."

Now it was Orell's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Reassigned?" Alton grinned humorlessly at him.

"It will not be a cushioned assignment, Captain. I need someone in Village Three to keep an eye on something." He wondered if he should tell Orell about the strange entry his predecessor had made. The eyebrow that rose to follow the other one told him yes. Orell was the sort of man who would do nothing unless he was told why. Especially if it were a mysterious and vague assignment from the City to a particular Village, and even more so if it was for someone of his… particular skills.

The young Captain waited in silence, standing at parade rest, while his General shuffled around for the files he had been reading. With another, "Ha!" he held them up. "Here, look at these. Pay close attention to the one about this 'Ketya'." He did not invite the captain to sit, nor did Orell ask for permission. He simply took the files and flipped through them. The silence was interrupted only by the soft shuffling of paper as Orell read.

"You want me to watch a Villager? He doesn't seem particularly dangerous." Alton sighed; useful as Orell was, he could be incredibly thick at times.

"According to this, this kid could cause something dangerous to happen. He doesn't seem to be dangerous on his own power."

Orell groaned. "So let me get this straight: I get sent to a Village- one of the most useless, I might add- to watch a kid who may or may not be dangerous."

"Pretty much."

"Fantastic. Is there a reason you're sending me and not someone else? Someone less… noticeable?"

Alton shrugged, "Noticeable as you are, you have the right skills. I need someone the Villagers will respect as well as the other soldiers there." Orell glared at him; apparently that reasoning wasn't quite enough.

"I need to do some research about this boy and about the supposed 'Dream' Doron mentioned in those files," he explained tersely. When Orell lowered his eyes, playing at a subservience he didn't actually have, Alton went on, "While I'm doing that, I need someone I can trust to keep an eye on things and for me to convey messages to. Not only that, you are good at getting people to trust you. Get the soldiers there to explain the circumstances surrounding that boy and his parents' 'early Expirations'." He paused before adding the one thing he knew Orell's pride couldn't resist, "You're the only Captain I can think of that can do this, Orell."

The aforementioned Captain smirked. "Fine," he acquiesced finally. "I suppose I can do that." Alton smiled evilly.

"Good."