Flame Touched

Chapter Twenty-Six - Matteo

It took a lot longer than it should have for Matt to get clearance to speak with the commander in charge. He was about ready to give the man a piece of his mind. When he opened the door and saw General Constantine, his jaw dropped. General Constantine was one of the handful of officers who had a higher ranking than Matt. Not at all who he'd been expecting to find in the middle of the desert. Whatever operation was being run, it must have been a lot more important than he'd anticipated.

"Welcome to my base. I apologize the accommodations are not as comfortable as those back in the city," Constantine said. He pointed to a chair across from him.

Matteo sat down. "Spare me the pleasantries and tell me about the Terran. I want to—"

"Go home. I'm aware. Your father and I had a lengthy conversation about you before we decided to send you over to help." The general crossed his legs casually. Too casually. He seemed to get a great deal of pleasure over being positioned above Matt.

Jealousy is never a good look for anyone, Matt observed. "Glad that's clear."

"I promised him you wouldn't be returning for at least three days."

Matt tightened his jaw. His other instinct was to let it drop in surprise and he refused to give Constantine the pleasure of watching him squirm. "Father did mention my need for spiritual enlightenment. I knew it would take a bit longer than a handful of hours. Three days is longer than I'd prefer to be away, but I'm willing to make the time commitment." Yeah, don't let him see how much this pisses you off. Just pretend it's fine. Get mad later. "I still want to know about the Terran. Now."

"The suspense must be maddening." Constantine smirked.

Shrugging, Matteo leaned forward. "More like necessary. Your on duty guard said the Terran were providing a new weapon. Those are my department, last I checked."

"Fair enough." Constantine rolled his eyes. "How versed in magic are you?"

Matt scoffed. "Have you seen what I can do?"

"Do you understand how it works, though? For example, did you know magic resides in the blood?"

"Yes, I did. It's how the women we mate with gain our magical abilities. If we mix our blood with any human, male or female, they will gain certain attributes. This is part of the basics of magic. Every dragon over the age of eight should know this." Matt glared at the man. Does he think I'm stupid?

Constantine shifted in his seat. The sour smell of grapes flowed from him. Fear. Why afraid of Matt all of a sudden? A minute ago he'd been gloating. The general met Matt's gaze with his own. "We've made an agreement with the President of Terran. They are supplying us with their magic so we can enhance our weapons. The earth magic they provide will give us an edge against the Oceina."

"More than an edge. Earth magic will decimate a water dragon," Matt said. "So the Terran have performed a bonding ceremony with some of our soldiers? I didn't realize they felt strongly enough about our quest to make such a huge commitment." Blood bonding was never a ritual to take lightly.

"Lord Lynx has promised a great deal to the Terran," Constantine said coolly. "They will help us conquer the lands that rightfully belong to us, and we will help them with some of their own political dealings involving both the Oceina and the Aero. We, however, have not performed a bonding ceremony. No, the Terran have given us a peek into some of their latest scientific findings."

Matt frowned. "But we need Terran blood to—"

"We have Terran blood. It's been infused into the weapons we've been producing here in the desert."

Swallowing, Matt nodded. "A lot of blood will be needed to make enough for an entire army. Or do only a few of my men get the privilege of wielding an effective weapon while the rest get slaughtered?"

"We have a lot of Terran blood."

Matteo took in a sharp breath. "How?"

"The Terran have a number of criminals they need to dispose of. Most of them are on death row for unimaginable monstrosities." Constantine waved a hand in front of him. "These men deserve to die. For a while, the Terran have been using their prisoners to research this technology they've been so kind to share with us. The process works best with fresh blood. It takes time to complete, and there is some toxic waste to dispose of after the fact. Here in the desert we've been able to take advantage of the desolate landscape for this project. Unfortunately, we're running out of space. We've had to dump into the Inero River toward the south. Discreetly, of course."

What to sink in first? The fact that the Terran were sending men condemned to die over to be experimented on, or that the country was slowly being poisoned for those experiments. All for powerful, magical weapons that could demolish the Oceina Empire. "When did you plan on telling me about all of this?"

"Before we prepared to strike."

"Which will be when?" Matt raised an eyebrow.

Constantine smirked. "Months in the future still. You'll use these months to train your men in how to use our new weapons. We are counting on you to lead us to victory. That is why it is important for you to get on board with the holy quest your father has been sent on."

"I am on board. My father needs to tell me more about what he expects from me," Matt countered.

"You'll get that through prayer. It's time for you to meet the prophet."

"He's here?"

Slowly, the general rose from his seat. "Arrived last night. He came to bless the project, and to guide you."

"I..." I'm so confused. Matt also stood.

"No, no, stay where you are. I'll be back in a moment." General Constantine continued to smirk as he left Matt to stew in all of the new developments on his own.

Why? That was the question continually running through Matt's mind. Why did his father want the Oceina land so badly? Why did he trust the prophet so much? More importantly, why was Matt only hearing about all of this now? Father doesn't think I'll back him up unless I have no choice to. Just like all of his other advisers. His heart sank. Somehow, I've let him down.

He'd find a way to make it right.

The door opened again. A young boy walked in. He couldn't have been any older than eleven. Matt had heard the prophet was a child. For some reason, he'd imagined someone a few years older. The boy lingered in the door frame for a moment, before taking a tentative step forward. "You look exactly like what I saw in my dream."

Matteo stood up, wanting to be respectful despite his being older. "You had a dream about me?"

"Yes." The prophet moved closer, his hands outstretched toward Matt. He closed the gap between them and placed his hands on Matt's forehead. "I'll show you what I saw."

Before Matt could ask another question, his limbs went numb, limp. He was vaguely aware of his body falling to the floor. Vaguely, because his mind went fuzzy. That was the only way he could describe it. Why can't I think? Why is there so much static? My brain hurts.

"Let go. Relax and let go," the boy urged.

Matt closed his eyes, wanting the world to stop spinning. Reluctantly, he closed his eyes and gave up the fight.

Flashes of images appeared in his dreams. The Great Dragon, born from Inero blood, from his blood. Him leading his people to victory over the Oceina. Everyone in their proper place where they belonged. Peace—true peace—existed.

When he woke several hours later, he didn't remember every detail of the dream. He did, however, believe.