The little bit of inner vision Shesta had extended was just enough to let him know that Dilandau was a mere handful of paces from the entrance to the main hall. It was easy enough to recognize him, even among all the other approaching Generals. Albinos, after all, were quite rare and very outstanding. With a quick hand he straightened the last deviant strand of hair and straightened himself to attention.

Last minute preparations. So it had been all morning. He'd been summoned from the Master School only a week before, just after the completion of his training. His own mentor hadn't seemed pleased at all when he'd received the summons - indeed, that's what it had been: a call without any mention of the usual service payment - but had complied anyhow and sent the young boy to pack and prepare for his journey.

It was only within the last hour before his departure that he'd even been given an explanation of his true mission. Folken had demanded a seer for his newest regiment, the Dragonslayers, but had made the mistake of mentioning the intended commander by name. One Dilandau Albatou. To Shesta it was no secret that his teacher had had a certain fascination with that young outcast, but only once his orders had been handed down to him did he realize how deep that fascination went. If he'd had a choice in the matter he had no doubt that he would have declined the mission immediately. It was an insane venture at best, whether it proved doable or not.

He'd never had a choice, however. From the day his talents had showed themselves he hadn't had a choice. If it were taken far enough, it could even be said that from the day he was born his path had been fatefully chosen. As such, he'd taken the assignment gracefully, swearing his secrecy while mentally cursing his luck before setting off on the caravan away from Torushina. He'd traveled for seven days with only two stops in villages on the way and then only for a few hours at most. All the while he'd had nothing but his thoughts and worries to occupy him and occupy him they did. His only respite had been his arrival that morning, which had been late enough that he'd had to rush everything. He'd only just managed to meet with Folken - as per agreement - and have his credibility assessed (an understatement of a term for the mild psychological torture he'd been put through ) before readying himself for presentation.

Once in place, he'd had no choice but to go back to fretting. As professionally as he could for his eleven years he'd kept his emotions hidden, but they played plainly enough in his eyes. The wait had been long enough - nearly an hour now - and he had no desire to pass the time by talking to the others assembled. So he'd worried. Even now he wondered how he could possibly find an opportunity great enough to fulfill his master's bidding. It seemed impossible.

With a quietness that seemed impossible for their size, the great doors at the end of the hall opened. Folken rose from his place as the nine Generals, Dilandau at the rear, entered the room, each taking up their places. Shesta studied the albino as he moved past, slipping easily past the others to stand at Folken's side.

Folken's pet, he thought scornfully, Just as Barosh said. The similarity between description and reality ended there however. Despite his trained dislike for the older boy, Shesta had to admit certain details to himself. There was an assuredness to the way Dilandau carried himself, a coldness in his eyes. He didn't move at all like the cowed beasts that had raised him, more like a true predator that arrogantly believed itself truly superior to any and all placed beneath it. On a fundamental level it gave him enough of a chill that he was able to push his distaste aside for a moment. Perhaps there was more to this than he or Barosh had realized...

"Jajuka is among them," Dilandau spoke up quietly, his eyes locked on that furry behemoth at the end of the line, "You never told me he would be here."

"I trust that won't be a problem," Folken replied, sounding slightly annoyed. From his tone, Shesta recognized that it had been a command, not a question in any sense.

"No, it won't." A scowl had settled lightly on Dilandau's delicate features, "I welcome some familiarity, actually." He cast a questioning glance at his superior, raising an eyebrow, "What of the rest?"

"That is for you to find out."

Folken moved stealthily back to his seat, leaving Dilandau alone at the front. The new General took the hint quickly, stepping down from his perch and moving to give his new troops a quick inspection. Most he simply gave a glance to, noting nothing of interest for his comment. Shesta himself had done the same earlier. It was true, there was nothing remarkable about his comrades, aside from the beastman. Many of them had been either slaves or street trash, pulled from their unfortunate former lives and trained as soldiers. It was a common enough practice for Folken. Not worth his thoughts.

Predictably, the albino faltered when he came to Shesta. The blonde haired boy stared right back, keeping his emotions far from him as Dilandau's gaze locked inevitably on the deep red mark across Shesta's forehead. Curiosity flashed through those scarlet eyes and the albino spoke without meeting Shesta's gaze, his voice filled with awe. "You're a seer."

Shesta nodded once, "Yes, sir."

"From Torushina, I expect," he said softly.

Shesta nodded.

"The Master School?"

"Of course."

"And how far were you trained?"

A second gaze dropped onto Shesta, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He glared over Dilandau's shoulder, meeting Folken's eyes for barely a fraction of an instant before flicking it back towards his commanding officer. There was no doubt that his words weren't directed towards the General, however. "As far as was requested. If you want the details of that transaction, I'd suggest you ask Folken."

In abrupt astonishment, Dilandau dropped his gaze to meet Shesta's. He scowled, a positively deadly ferocity behind his eyes, and took a step backwards. Shesta didn't even see the boy's arm move before he was abruptly staggering backwards, a sharp pain ringing out through his jaw.

"You'd do well to lose that attitude," Dilandau snarled, "When I ask a question, I get an answer. Is that understood?"

Shesta nodded quickly, rubbing his jaw and stepping back into place, "Perfectly, sir."

"Then answer the question."

"I'm a trained clairvoyant above all, with limited prescience. If you're looking for a mind reader, you'll be disappointed. Is that all, sir?"

"For now."

Dilandau cast a final glance at the younger boy and moved off, leaving Shesta to his own for a while. He had already turned his attention from the pain in his jaw back to his thoughts. That little encounter had taught him quite a bit, but hadn't lifted any of the obstacles in his path. For certain, Dilandau was much further along than his teacher had suspected. As human as could be and stronger than anyone would expect at first glance. If anything, that only served to make his situation that much worse.

He cast one last glance at the albino and then let out a soft sigh, noting with annoyance that Folken's gaze was resting on him again. It was severely pushing his luck, but once again he lifted his gaze back to the ruler's, voicing every bit of his displeasure at not being trusted in a single glare. It was some time before Folken finally turned away, leaving Shesta somewhat rankled.

This was a mistake. He focused his sixth sense on Dilandau, shivering just visibly at the shadows he found there. Once final time, he turned to Folken, this time with a trace of pity in his emotions. Who's the hunter and who's the hunted? He pondered silently, Time will tell, and all too soon. You should never have saved him, Folken.

Dilandau snapped at another of his new soldiers, striking out as quickly as he had to Shesta.

This will not be an easy path. Not for any of us...