Hi everyone! It's been awhile since I've posted an original story or poem on here, and there's no point continuing uploading fanfiction for KttK since no one here seems to know what that is, so I thought I'd share my newest one with you. I'd like your opinion on it; it seems a bit too rushed to me, and looking back, this could make a novel if I expanded on it. And the ending is terrible. But oh well.

I hope you like it!

THE GENERAL’S NAME

“What the heck are you doing here?”
Not the most cordial greeting, Daniel decided, but it was better than “Get-the-expletive-out,” which he’d received last time. Most townspeople immediately hated him the second they noticed his crisp soldier’s uniform, loathing the military he represented instantaneously. Noblemen especially disliked the military, though it was wise to refrain from expressing outright disgust, due to the frequent inspections of Estates.
“Inspection, Sir Oliver,” Daniel replied. The Nobleman Oliver could be rude if he wished, but Daniel would be as polite as possible. It was better that way. “As one of the Five Governors, you are subject to-“
“Go away!”
Daniel turned to his companion, a blonde woman in blue General’s uniform. She sighed, eyes closed and face displaying the look of superiority and perpetual annoyance that was almost permanently there, like some sort of mask she put on. “Sir Oliver, you are not within rights to deny an inspection. Let us in without delay, or I will not hesitate to write a less-than-pleasing description of your behavior in my report.”
“As if they’d take a soldier’s word over mine,” the voice spat.
“I am a General, sir,” the woman said, smirking. Had he seen the uniform, he would not have lumped her with the usual soldier rabble. Daniel knew that smirk well. It meant she was fairly confident she would, yet again, be granted everything she wanted.
The iron gates creaked open with a screeching that made Daniel wince. The General, however, was undisturbed, or at least appeared so. That made no sense to Daniel; Generals typically had more sensitive hearing.
It is a strange thing, to be a General in the Territories. First of all, there were only five, each one corresponding to a single Territory. Secondly, no General had a name; whatever names and pasts they had were thrown out like trash while the General experienced the ‘Reconstruction’ Process. They were usually called just ‘General,’ but they had full titles such as ‘General Regent of the Oliver Territory,’ or ‘General One.’ Over fifty candidates were chosen to replace the previous Generals, and they were officially switched every five years. No one knew what happened to the candidates deemed unfit, or the previous Generals.
“Are you going in, colonel?” the General asked, voice reverberating around him.
“What?” Daniel realized she was already halfway into the courtyard. “Yes. Sorry, sir.”
“What brings a General to my halls?” Sir Oliver asked once they reached a low, dimly-lit atrium filled with busts of him. Like his statues, Sir Oliver was short, mustachioed, broad, and scowling. The same piggy displeasure that scrunched up his eyes on his statues dominated his features in real life.
“You are one of the Five Governors of the Territories,” the General replied. “Territorial law states you are subject to an inspection whenever a General requests one.”
“Why send a General, though? Usually you send some dolt like him.” He pointed a chubby finger at Daniel.
The General frowned. Daniel recognized that face, the slightest ripple of anger passing through the smooth waters. Sir Oliver was already getting off on the wrong foot; he better be cautious from this point on. Daniel felt better, knowing she disapproved of how derogatory Sir Oliver was being, and that she would defend him if the need arose.
At least, he hoped she would. One could never tell with a General.
“Your Estate is considered a strong ally of the Generals and the Supreme Commander,” she answered, not addressing the insult for the moment. “You could call this a social call.”
“Really?” Oliver squinted, clearly not buying it.
“Really.” The General stared back, blue eyes impassive yet again, not betraying the truth in the least. In actuality, Oliver was suspected of smuggling weapons and aiding the insurrection against the Supreme Commander in the south.
Oliver snorted. “Hmph. Well, go where you will. I have nothing to hide, nor have I ever.”
“Of course.” The General smiled coldly. “Of that I have no doubt, but regulations are regulations.”
“If you have any questions,” Oliver spat, “my son and wife are somewhere on the grounds. I have some urgent business to attend to, and mustn’t be disturbed. If you’ll excuse me, I must take my leave.” He didn’t wait for an answer before waddling away, muttering under his breath.
The General frowned again, but remained silent.
Daniel chuckled nervously. “So… where do we start?”
“We will send someone later to examine the records in greater detail, but today, we must keep our eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. I will take a look at the record of arms trade in the territory as well, and might confiscate it.”
“Mm,” Daniel nodded, following her as they began climbing a spiral staircase. They found the records room several minutes later through sheer luck, having lost time bumbling (in Daniel’s case) and systematically searching (in the General’s case) around the estate. The servants, though far politer and more cordial than their master, were very tight-lipped and not at all keen to divulge information about Sir Oliver, even if it was in so simple a request as to where the records were stored. Suspicious indeed.
The General randomly picked up a ledger and began to flip through it, frustration showing as she absentmindedly turned pages. “Not important, not important, and couldn’t care less,” she declared, slamming it shut and tossing it back onto the shelf. She groaned. “I should confiscate them all and come back with a team of men. What does the Supreme Commander think, I can find evidence by walking around? I’m a General, not a miracle-worker!”
“Can you confiscate everything, though?”
“Can’t it?” She picked up another one, then immediately threw it back onto the shelf.
“Which one was that?”
“It doesn’t pertain to this investigation,” she said, glaring at the book case.
Daniel picked it up, and the General’s eyes narrowed in displeasure. It was a simple, red, leather-bound ledger titled, General Candidates Chosen in the Oliver Territory. It was by far the thickest book in the entire records room. He opened it tentatively while the General cried, “Aha!” and picked up a record titled Manufacturing and Trading of Arms in the Oliver Territory.
The book Daniel was holding was filled with rows upon rows of names, but no information beyond that. Nothing about age, or whether they were taken at birth or later, or which lucky ducks became Generals and which were not as fortunate. For the first time, he wondered what happened to those struck with a bad hand of cards and did not become one of the Five.
“Do you know what happened to them?” Daniel asked.
“I’ll pretend you didn’t ask,” she said, and shook her head. “I don’t know, and don’t ask again. Asking isn’t allowed.”
“Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to break regulations. Wait- did you ever read this?”
“I am not allowed to look at any list of General Candidates,” she answered, not meeting his gaze.
“Why not?”
She glared at him. It was the first time Daniel was on the receiving end of one of her poison-laced stares, and he didn’t like it. He fidgeted under it, and broke eye contact, staring at his hands instead. “Isn’t it obvious?” she said, voice low. “My name is somewhere in one of the lists of the Five Territories. I am not to know which one, or what it was before. My past is not to be explored.”
“But did you ever read it?”
She took the book from him and placed it back on the shelf, replying as if she was speaking to the ledger, not him. “Once.”
“What happened?”
“I realized it was a waste of time. How am I to know which one I was? What would I do with that knowledge anyway? It’s useless to me.” She turned and sighed. “Let’s go. I have no reason to stick around any longer. I’ll examine the ledger back at Territorial Command, and I’ll send some men tomorrow to poke around here.”
“All right,” Daniel said, taking one last look at the red book. Maybe it was just him, but perhaps the General’s gaze flickered there too for a second, softening, before hardening again. She pivoted smartly and turned, marching out, but instead of descending the stairs, climbed up. “Sir!” Daniel cried, running after her. “Where are you going?”
“I have no idea,” she admitted, “but my instincts tell me to go here, and they’re never wrong.”
It soon became apparent they were at the foot of an attic of sorts, a trapdoor above their heads. The General pounded on it, but it wouldn’t budge. “Could I break it down?” she mused, more to herself than Daniel.
“Sir, I don’t think that’s wise,” he said. “Sir Oliver is already irritated as it is…”
“You’re right. Well, come on. We either check out his mines today or we go tomorrow,” she said, “giving us far too much free time to kill tonight.”
Daniel thought he knew the perfect way to kill time, and it involved the two of them in a restaurant, but he knew better than to voice it to the General.
Through the velvet-carpeted hallways and past rows of frowning busts, the General exited into the gardens of the Estate and sat down on a low, marble stone bench, taking out the arms ledger once more and furrowing her brow, reading. Daniel stood next to the bench and gazed out at the lush green. Flowers dotted the backdrop of grassy color with vibrant blues and reds, and the occasional white rose, national flower of the Territories. Topiary and neatly-trimmed bushes lined stone paths that wound their way through the gardens into the heart of the Estate’s backyard.
The General pointed to a low tree laden with yellow fruits. “Those apples,” she said, “taste like they’re infused with honey.”
“Um, how would you know?” Daniel asked.
Her features changed again, into a look of confusion, and Daniel thought today must not be a good day for her. Her composure was slipping. “How do I know?” she whispered. “I must have eaten one here on a previous inspection.” She stood, walked over to the tree, and rested her back against the smooth trunk. “Or it wasn’t even here. All the Estates have this sort of tree, you know. They all look the same, or nearly so- the Supreme Commander likes it that way. It might have been somewhere else.” She winced, and her hand came up to shelter her left temple.
“Are you all right?”
“Just a migraine,” she said, waving it off in dismissal. “It’s not a big deal.” She straightened. “Someone’s coming.”
Daniel didn’t see anyone, but he had long ago learned to live with a General’s heightened senses. Despite being only a colonel, he was greatly trusted in the military- the only real reason he hadn’t been promoted was his age, a mere twenty-five. Thus, it didn’t surprise him when, a full three minutes later, a young man about his own age drew up to them and crossed his arms. He had dark, curly hair, and green eyes so close in color to Sir Oliver’s they practically branded him as the man’s son. There was a strong family resemblance, but the man was leaner, taller, and better-looking than his father.
“Louis Oliver,” the General said. “A pleasure.”
“Is there a reason you have to be setting foot in my gardens?” he demanded. “Do you think that anybody with any sense at all would hide evidence in his gardens?”
“Evidence to what?” the General asked, delicately yawning with a hand to cover her mouth, but her question was still valid and pointed.
“Who said there has to be evidence?” Louis said, countenance darkening. “I was simply asking, rhetorically.”
“I see.” The General leaned over so that her eyes were level with his- though Louis was a tall boy, the General was taller still. “What sort of evidence might there be, rhetorically?”
“N-nothing,” Louis said, but the slight stammer gave him away.
“Louis Oliver, if there is anything your father is hiding, you’d do well to tell me now. The Supreme Commander looks kindly on those who value their nation before blood.”
“Oh, I know that,” Louis hissed, “and it’s easy for you to say. ‘Nation before blood,’ but you don’t have a family! You’re a General. You’re not even human!”
The General drew back, hand now on the hilt of her sword. “I am human enough,” she whispered. “More human than most, in any case.”
“I doubt it,” Louis muttered. Then, louder, he said, “My father has most likely gone to the mines. He has hidden a stash of weapons there. He’s aiding the insurrection to the south.”
“You were right,” Daniel told the General.
“I’m always right,” she replied. “Thank you, Louis. I’ll be sure to mention your aide in my report. If, for any reason, the post of the Nobleman Oliver were to become open to one with stronger patriotic ties…”
Louis’s face erupted into a display of rapt happiness, even though he knew she wasn’t really promising anything.
The General bit her lip and looked away for a moment, then added, “Would you mind showing me the mines, Louis? This… stash?”
***
It took them half an hour to get to the mines by train, and then they had to climb down the dank, dreary black tunnels of stone to reach the bowels of them. Louis led the way, his lantern’s flame flickering, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
“I didn’t rat my father out just because I love the Supreme Commander, you know,” he said to the General. “You remind me of Catherine. She wouldn’t have stood for this. She would have done something about Father’s ploys right away.”
“Who’s Catherine?” the General asked. “A sibling?”
“She was. She was drafted into the skirmish at Reila three- no, a little over four- years ago. We were told she died there. They couldn’t recover the body. She was fourteen when they took her. She was sixteen when we got the news.”
“I’m sorry,” the General said, but either she didn’t know how to convey the emotion, or she had none. It was very difficult for her to display anything other than anger, Daniel had noticed. Daniel walked behind them, keeping his hands folded neatly behind his back. It occurred to him that Louis might be leading them straight into a trap, and he had both his gun and sword within easy reach, just in case.
“I’m sure Father thought of Catherine too,” Louis said. “It’s a bitter memory. I bet he’s been rude.”
“No ruder than most,” the General shrugged. “The Generals are not loved by any but the Supreme Commander, and…” She trailed off.
“And?” Daniel repeated.
“And nothing,” she said.
“This is the room,” Louis said, pressing his ear against a wooden door barring the rest of the tunnel entrance. To their left, a large pit yawned widely, and they had to press close to the wall on their right to avoid falling into it. “Father’s inside; I can hear him.”
The General pressed her own ear against it, listening intently. Her eyes widened as a gun was cocked right behind her.
“Step away,” Louis hissed, “and no one gets hurt.”
“So you aren’t as loyal to the Territories as you claim,” she said, following his instructions.
Daniel reached for his gun, but Louis shouted, “If you so much as twitch, I’ll shoot her!” Daniel let his arm fall.
Louis laughed. “That’s right.” He kicked open the door and shoved the General inside. “I got her!” he cried. “I got the General!”
There was a round table in the room, with about seven seats, all occupied. Sir Oliver sat directly across the open door, and he smirked. “Good work, Louis. Bring the other idiot in here too.”
Louis shoved the General to her knees and then shouted, “Colonel, get in here, or I’ll put a bullet through her head. She may not have the limits of regular humans, but a metal slug will shatter her skull just as easily as anybody else’s.”
Daniel scowled.
“Run, idiot!” the General screamed. “Run for it and report to Territorial Command!”
Daniel shook his head and stepped into the room. One of the men, a heavyset middle-aged specimen with a scar above his right eyelid, slammed the door shut behind him.
“Now that we’re all assembled,” Oliver said, “you can help us, m’dear.”
“I’m not going to help you do anything,” the General spat.
“Of course you will,” Oliver dismissed. “You don’t love the Supreme Commander nearly as much as you say you do. Don’t you?”
The General gritted her teeth and didn’t answer.
Oliver smirked. “As I thought. You are the secret to the Territories’ continued existence. The Five Generals have been what’s always stopped any insurrection, any revolution, and we’re going to figure out why.”
“How should I know?” she said. “I could fight you all right now and escape. I’ve taken on hundreds of men at once.”
“Oh, we know,” Oliver replied. “You’ve proven yourself time and time again, General One. Single-handedly, you ended the dispute at the border of Arreborn. With one sword you dispatched over thousands of men in Nerringon, and you yourself are more deadly than an entire army. The Five are the pride and joy of the Territories. But I think there’s a very good reason you won’t raise your hand against us as you did to those poor fools in Reila.”
Daniel felt someone push the barrel of a gun against the back of his head.
“He’s only one soldier,” Oliver shrugged, “one who joined the military expecting that it would be his lot to die. After all, that is what a soldier does- kill and die. He would be no great loss. We might not even get him to eat lead before you apprehend us.”
“But you will not take the risk,” Louis said, puffing his chest out. Daniel would have shaken his head if he wasn’t terrified out of his wits. The man was proud he was the one who had caught the fabled General One.
And it’d been easy. Because of him.
“Don’t be so sure,” the General said, but her voice shook, and Daniel knew that she wouldn’t. His fingers twitched, and he was itching to whirl around and draw his sword, but he knew exactly what would happen. Both of them would wind up dead.
“Oh, General,” Oliver sighed. “Let’s cut to the chase.”
“What do you want?” she asked, giving him a look filled with pure venom, enough to have stopped the heart of a sea serpent if looks could kill.
“What is the Reconstruction Process?”
The General nodded, as if she’d expected this question. “It’s simple, really. They take the Candidates. They expose them to enhancing techniques that alter the body and mind to strengthen them. It’s very painful. My first memory… is that process. Most do not survive.”
“And how is it conducted?”
“You’re asking me how they brought the flames out of Hades and burned me with them?” she snarled. “In any case, if you’re thinking of creating a General, it’s beyond hopeless. You’d need countless rats to test it on, because at most one or two will survive. You’d need time- the process takes at least two years to complete, and you’d need to have a fresh supply every five years.”
“Why every five years?” Oliver asked, his interest clearly piqued. He took out a pipe and smashed some tobacco into it, then stuck it in his mouth without lighting it and leaned back. “Does this have to do with replacing the Generals ever so often?”
“It does. Our bodies can’t handle the Reconstruction. We die,” she said.
“Then I suppose you’ll have to do instead of one of our own. With you on our side, it won’t matter. We’ll take him as a hostage to ensure your cooperation,” Oliver shrugged, nodding towards Daniel.
Daniel wasn’t really listening to the exchange. He was strong. He could break down the door and dash past Louis and the others. He could make a run for it. He might make it.
But then they’d kill the General.
No, they needed her. They didn’t need him.
“It’s been four years,” the General said, tone flat. “My time is running out.”
“We could accomplish much in several months.”
“Oh, yes, because one General can prevail against four!” she shouted. “You realize that’s what the Supreme Commander would do- send out the others?”
“I do not care for what he does so long as the Oliver Territory becomes its own independent nation,” Oliver answered. “We have lived under the tyranny of the Supreme Commander and the Generals for long enough.”
“Tyranny? I am not a tyrant!” she cried.
“No, you’re a sweet little thing,” Oliver mocked. “You’re a monster, that’s what you are. You think it’s natural for someone to decapitate hundreds in less than an hour?”
“I never said it was natural,” the General whispered.
“Tie them up and keep a bullet at both of their heads,” Oliver ordered. Louis nodded, and his father turned back to the men at the table. “Now, we have plans to make.”
“Move, witch,” Louis hissed. The General stood, breathing heavily, and complied. Daniel walked next to her, goaded on by the man pressing the gun against his head. They both leaned against the wall as Louis and the man behind- Daniel didn’t even know what he looked like- tied their hands behind their backs.
The General sidled close to Daniel and whispered in his ear, “When I shout, I want you to press against the bookcase, understood?”
“They’ll shoot,” he whispered back.
“They’ll shoot me. I can handle seven gunsmen. I’ve fought thousands before and escaped unscathed. But not you,” she said.
“Why are you so concerned?” It was hard to ask it, but he had to. “Just give me up and bust out.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” the General said, “for two reasons. I don’t give up on any of my soldiers.”
“And what’s the second?”
“It’s not important at the moment.”
“What are you two muttering about?” the man behind Daniel demanded.
The General whirled around, easily snapping her ropes and sending a deft kick to the man holding the gun to Daniel’s head. “NOW!”
Daniel heaved against the bookcase, pressing all his weight against it. It groaned and flipped, and suddenly he found himself with his back against rock, shouting behind him. There was no light, and it took him a moment to understand what happened. It was a secret entrance.
How had she known?
He heard shots, but he ran, stumbling along with one hand on the wall for balance and to guide his way. He could have spent hours in blind panic and flight, or he could have spent mere seconds. At last he came to a torch fixed to the wall, one in a long line of them. He lifted it out of its pedestal and carried it along in front of him, walking next to the string of lights like a solemn carrier of the last flame in the world.
Daniel reached a dead end, and he leaned against it. Now what?
He blinked as the wall behind him shifted, tons of rock moving aside. He drew back as the General shifted another pile of rubble and stone, and then sat down, panting. She was bleeding on her forehead and her right arm, but otherwise seemed perfectly fine.
“You’re injured,” he said, setting down the torch carefully, so as to make sure it wouldn’t go out, and ripped the sleeve of his uniform. He tried to tie it around her head, but she caught his wrist.
“I’m fine, colonel,” she said.
“All right, then.” He stuck the strip of cloth in his pocket. What else was he supposed to do with it?
“Are you all right?” she asked him, eyes closed. Her pallor was pale, just a step above a corpse’s.
“I’m not injured. You really should bandage that,” he protested.
“There’s no point,” she replied. “I might as well die now. Why wait all of a couple months?”
“Don’t talk like that,” he said. “No one said you were going to die in several months.”
“But there’s no point pretending I won’t,” she shrugged. “Aren’t you going to ask?”
“Ask what?”
“Ask how I knew about this tunnel.”
He’d been wondering about that, but he was more worried Sir Oliver and his men would give chase. Either the General had taken care of them or they had lost interest in him.
“How did you know?” he asked.
“I lied to you earlier,” she said. “I read the records. I wasn’t supposed to. And I learned my name. I lied to Sir Oliver too. My earliest memory wasn’t the Reconstruction Process. It was dying in Reila.”
“Dy- dying? You’re not dead!” he exclaimed.
“Well, not quite. General One’s not dead. But the girl she was fell in the battlefield,” the General sighed.
“What happened to Sir Oliver and the others?”
“I killed them,” she said matter-of-factly. “They were traitors. They would have been executed anyway, and they were shooting at me. I didn’t mean to, though. I wouldn’t have… I knew Louis, you know. We grew up together. He always was an idiot.”
Daniel was beginning to suspect what was coming next. “You’re-“ He stopped and shook his head. It was almost preposterous, but there was no other alternative.
“My name,” the General said, “was Catherine Oliver.”
***
“I’m sorry,” the General told Madame Oliver. “They both died in the cave-in. They fell into the pit.”
“I… I don’t…” Madame Oliver looked down at her feet, her hands clenching into fists. “I won’t lie to you. I’ve never liked the Supreme Commander, and when he took my daughter…”
“I understand,” the General said. “It’s a shame Catherine had to die in Reila, but it was with honor and dignity.” She added, “Unlike me. I can’t say I’ve done much for this country.”
“I’ve heard all about you,” Madame Oliver said. “You’ve done more than anyone else.”
“Winning wars is not necessarily helping,” the General replied.
“You have her face, you know,” Madame Oliver frowned. “Catherine’s.”
“Do I?”
“Are… are you…?”
The General shook her head. “I am not. I knew Catherine, but…”
“She was a General Candidate.”
“She didn’t pass the Reconstruction Process,” the General said. “I have to go, Madame. If… if you need anything, give me a call.”
“What will happen to me? My son and husband have died. Do I have to leave the Estate?” she asked.
“I don’t know, Madame,” the General answered truthfully, “but I hope your future will be brighter than your past.”
***
Daniel sat next to the General on the train. The scenery rushed past them, but neither of them were interested in looking at the rolling green hills.
“Why did you lie to her?” Daniel asked.
“I didn’t. Catherine died. I’m not her,” the General answered. “I simply have her face and memories, that’s all. Catherine wouldn’t kill a single person. I’ve killed hundreds of thousands.”
“You’re a soldier,” Daniel said. “You can’t beat yourself up about it. And it wasn’t like you had a choice. I enlisted, but you were forced.”
“I always have a choice,” she mused. “Do you know where this train is going?”
“To Territorial Command?”
“Yes. And this is our stop,” she said, as the train screeched to a halt at a station.
“No, it isn’t. This is Hanamachi. Territorial Command’s another day’s journey at least.”
“I know,” she said, stepping off. Daniel shook his head and followed her.
“You’re not going back, are you?” he said.
“What is there to go back to? I’m sick of it.”
“The Supreme Commander will come looking for you.”
“I’ll be dead soon anyway.”
“Stop going on about that!” Daniel hissed. “If you care so much, get back on that train and tell him exactly what you think!”
The General scowled. “You can’t give me orders.” She got back on, though, and Daniel grinned.
“Do you have a plan?” he asked her.
“Of course,” she said. “I’m going to wing it, one step at a time.”
“Wing it?” he said.
“Yes,” she said, “because I’m scared out of my mind and about to die, so it’s the best I can come up with.”