Apparently I'm a washed up has-been. At least according to a reviewer for Critical Point. And I should say I hope so. I just took a shower two hours ago and unless I'm going out and playing in the mud without my knowledge I should hope that I'm still washed up.

You have no idea how happy I am to get this chapter up this month. Barely, but it is. :) It was fun to write too. I just want to say that Ignatius is my favorite out of all the dragons because...well I'll let you read and find out. :) (there needs to be a smirking smiley BTW)

Spadefire: Thank you so much for the birthday wishes! Good to know somebody at least likes Min too. I've been worried about her going too close to sue territory recently. She's not evil so much as very selfish neutral, but here's a hint for something later. She keeps insisting that she didn't lie on the originals. That's all you're getting out of me this time. Hope you did well at districts.

Anon: Thanks for the review, but I just have one question. Why do people keep thinking that I'm pairing people up with Guan? I give no indication that he's paired with anyone much less Min. Besides, I don't think that would work as a relationship anyway. He has much more respect for the fact that she's married than she does. Thanks anyway for the review. :)

Disclaimer: I'm honestly not even sure if the pig in jar is still there, but I still own nothing.

Combustion Reaction

The red stone surrounding her flashed and flared with swirls of orange and smoky black light. It would almost have been pretty, if not for the oppressive heat. The desert seemed merely unpleasant next to this. She could see the water vapor in her breath turning to steam before her, yet she did not burn. It was all she could do to keep walking.

The oasis seemed to be an eternity past. She wanted to drink again so badly, but she realized that if she opened one of the bottles, it would evaporate before it even touched her lips. She wished she stayed there. The cool shade and sparkling blue water seemed like a utopia in this underground hell.

She could feel it, brushing against her burned fingertips, soothing the blisters, gently lapping against the sand. If she had ever at any point been a pyro, she certainly felt no urge to burn things now. She would make sure that Raimundo knew that she no longer wanted a lighter for her birthday, as handy a weapon it would make.

She was careful not to touch the glass walls again, she'd been burned by them before. She suspected it had at one point been sand, but a combination of heat and magic, had turned it into a crystal clear window to the swirling lava beyond. How this was even working was beyond her.

There was a way she could have made herself comfortable, but she wasn't willing to do that. Sorcery wasn't the answer.

No, it's the question. And the answer is yes, the voice in her head said. She wasn't sure how she'd wound up with such a sarcastic subconscious, but she knew she wasn't going to listen to it. She should have died in these conditions long ago, but she hadn't. Ignatius didn't want her dead, just weak enough to let him go. Unless it was a matter of life and death, sorcery was not an option. What she'd done in the desert was life or death. This was just a matter of comfort.

She kept walking along the tunnel until she came to a black stone door. She gingerly touched it with her burnt fingers and it was cool to the touch. She turned the knob and slowly pushed it open.

On the other side was an opulent sitting room decorated in shades of red, orange, yellow, and gold, with a few smoky black accents. Paintings of deserts and volcanic islands dotted the mango colored walls in extravagantly carved gold frames. Crimson urns containing what looked like fiery peacock feathers stood by the obsidian fire place and coffee table. Her fingers trailed along the arm of a silky yellow chair. She reveled in the smooth fabric. It had been so long since she felt something so luxurious.

"You like it?" a strangely accented voice said. She shook as she turned towards the door and fell into a defensive stance.

Standing by the now closed door was a boy slightly older than she was. He was slightly taller than average, but not by much. He was of average build, but his muscles filled out his dark pinstriped suit well. He had a very handsome face, with a strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, and strangely familiar green eyes, topped by a well groomed, tastefully disarrayed mop of black hair.

"Don't worry firefly," he said, laughing slightly. He had a lopsided grin and gentle laugh. "I don't bite."

"Who are you?" she asked, not wavering from her position. No matter how pretty he was, she had a job to do, and she couldn't do that to Rai.

"I've had a lot of names firefly," he said, striding over to her. She backed away a bit, but she still caught a faint whiff of Drakkar Noir. "Prometheus, Loki, Vulcan, Agni, Eros, and my personal favorite, Apollo, but you can call me Kenneth."

"Alright, Kenneth. Where am I and how do I find Ignatius?" she asked. She didn't expect an answer, and if the boy gave one, she didn't expect it to be true. He was at the very least working for the dragon. She couldn't believe a word he said.

"You're in my sitting room. This reminds me, I didn't offer you a seat. How rude of me. Ignatius won't be bothering us for some time, so please, make yourself at home." With that, he sat himself down in the yellow arm chair and gestured to the matching chair for her to do the same. "Would you like anything to drink? I'd imagine you'd be dying after the corridor from hell."

"It seemed like it was a part of hell. Water would be lovely thank you," she said, sitting in the chair. He snapped his fingers and a glass of water so cold frost formed on the sides appeared on a gold coaster on the coffee table. She picked it up and tasted it, nothing seemed amiss, but she wasn't going to drink it all at once just to be sure.

"You're a worrier aren't you?" he said, looking at her with his jade green eyes. "I didn't poison it if that's what got you jumpy." She couldn't tell if he was lying or not. He didn't look like it, but Minerva didn't either. "So, firefly, you got a name of your own or do I have to give you one?"

One of the few things she did know about magic, it was generally a bad idea to give your name to a flirtatious potential henchman of a dragon. You would either wind up with awkward texts or mind controlled "You can keep calling me firefly."

"Alright then Miss Firefly, what brings you to my hot, stuffy neck of the scorched woods?" he asked, smiling that lopsided smile.

"I'm looking for you master," she said. That adorable smile grew and he began laughing when he heard this.

"He's not my master," he said.

"Well then what is he?" she asked, taking another sip of water.

"It's complicated," he said. "I'd rather not explain now anyway. You do anything for fun aside from trekking through horrid deserts to talk to me?"

"I kick scaly butt and save the world," she said, taking another sip of water. She'd shown no ill effects yet, but it was too soon to really tell.

"Surely that's not all you are," he said, standing and walking towards her. "You look like the type of girl who likes to relax at the end of the day with a nice book while sipping coffee by a fire. I'm sure that under your tightly wound façade there's somebody begging to loosen up." He put a hand on her shoulder and gently began to massage it. "So much tension. What exactly is it that you do to get like this?"

"Spent my time listening to you when I should have been looking for Ignatius," she said, slapping his hand away.

"You're an odd little firefly," he said. "Now what in name of Kilo Joules did you do to your hands?"

"Touched your walls," she said, glaring at him. He still looked back at her with nothing but good nature.

"We can't be having that. Here, let me see." He held out his hand. She refused to respond. "Have I given you any reason to distrust me?" She shook her head. "Well then, let me see." She held out her hands and he gently pulled her to her feet.

He ran his hands over hers and they began to glow crimson. A moment later, the pain left her fingers. "Now was that so hard firefly? I just want to help you if you'll let me."

"How do I find Ignatius then?" she said, looking at his eyes. They almost looked like Raimundo's. If she ignored the rest of him, she could almost imagine that he was.

"You tell me," he said, moving around her and starting on her shoulders again.

"I'm supposed to follow the draw of my powers, but I can't do that now. I've got no idea where I'm going," she said. She had to give him credit, he knew what he was doing with a shoulder massage.

"Well, what're your instincts telling you?"

"I don't know. My head's telling me that there's another way out of this room though and he's there."

"Clever little firefly. Come with me." He stopped rubbing her shoulders and led her to a blank section of wall, his arm draped around her shoulders the whole time. He waved his hand and the wall dissolved. Behind it there was a lava field like the view from her window in the council building. The exact same red and orange crystals, gleaming obsidian, and half-glowing lava flows, with ash gently falling like snow over the whole scene.

"Okay Kenneth, it was nice meeting you, but I've got to go," she said.

"Don't. Please." He sounded like he was pleading. "It's been so long since I've had company. I can't leave this place and I get so lonely here."

"I'm sorry, but I have to find Ignatius. When I do I promise that I'll come back and help you." Those eyes, so full of pain, looked incredibly like Raimundo's.

"At least take me with you," he said, moving his hand down her back to her waist and turning to face her. "I'm a prisoner here. Don't you think I deserve to be free?"

"The fate of many outweighs the fate of one," she said, only half paying attention.

"But what if the fate of many depends on the fate of that one?" he said, bringing his free hand up to caress her face. She brushed it away. She was not going to cheat on Rai with a guy she just met.

"If you're a prisoner, then you have to be here for a reason," she said.

"I'm here because some people were jealous. Is that fair?" He leaned in close, she could smell his cologne. Not so strong as to be offensive, but just enough to smell nice. He was very handsome. That cocky half-smile, the ordered chaos of his hair, his emerald eyes.

"I only know half the story," she said.

"I'm telling you the truth," he said, leaning closer still.

"Not the whole truth."

"We've seen the error of our ways. I want to be free again. I want to feel the sun on my face again. Even if it's just once" He closed the last bit of distance and gently laid his lips on hers. They were soft and smooth and tasted faintly of mint gum, but as pleasant as he was, he wasn't Rai.

"Sorry, but no," she said, shoving him back. "I've got a boyfriend, and even if I didn't I'm not interested."

"Okay fine," he said, shrugging it off like it was nothing. "It was worth a shot. You're a bit young for me and even if you weren't, I don't really do the whole interspecies thing."

"Interspecies thing?" she was incredibly confused by this. He looked human.

"I'm forced to take on an amalgamation of features you find most attractive from people you've seen when first meeting a new dragon. At least this time I got to be my own gender this time. Seriously, first I was some old guy's wife, and then I was a teenage guy's fantasy. Not fun," he said, backing into the lava field, his body rippling and shimmering before her. A moment later, the dragon from the illustration looked back at her, his now mango orange eyes gleaming with bemusement.

"Well, you see that I'm the dragon of Fire again. Are you convinced that the world's in balance?" she said, still really freaked out.

"You know, funny thing is, I really never doubted it. I just want to get out of here," he said, stretching his bat like wings. "Like I said, I've been stuck here alone unless one of the others decides to grace my desert with a visit. You have no idea how much I want to feel real sunlight. What I have here, it's not the same."

"I can't let you go," she said.

"I can give you the world. I can make you flawless," he said, the world melting away around them. She was standing in the temple courtyard again, only it wasn't the courtyard. The bits of missing paving stones were fixed, the badly patched roof was whole again, the disturbingly ugly vases were replaced by a set of beautiful Ming vases, and the crack in the fountain was gone.

"Just imagine, ruling a world without flaws. There's no hunger here, no poverty, no disease, no wars, and it's all yours to bend to your will," he said as she looked around. The sickly tree by the dining hall was healthy and in bloom again. "And yourself just as perfect as the rest of it."

A mirror materialized before her, but it didn't show her reflection. The girl in the mirror was taller, a bit curvier, her hair was undamaged from years of dying and styling, she wasn't covered in sand, soot, and sweat, but she was wearing the same clothes and her bright blue eyes certainly looked like hers.

"There's something missing though…ah yes. One moment please." She heard someone snapping their fingers behind her and her dirty clothes were replaced by a set of what looked like monks robes, but more elegant. They were mostly a red orange color, with black dragons embroidered on the gold trim and when she moved flashes of yellow and crimson played across her body, making her look like she was clothed in flames.

"Now isn't that better? Why don't you try out your powers?" Four training dummies appeared in the courtyard and although she didn't want to do anything Kenneth, or Ignatius, or whatever his name was told her, she wanted to see how you could make powers flawless.

"Wudai Mars, Fire." With as much ease as breathing and almost no mental focus, four perfect streams of flame flew from her fingers to the dummies. Remembering the lava field she'd seen in the vision, she twitched her hand slightly and the flames arched and danced from one dummy to another. It was fascinating, she could have made them dance for her all day, but there was a part of her that wanted to see the rest of this world.

"You know the only thing missing here firefly? Every princess needs her prince." The flames on the dummies shot up and then died down. The ash falling as lightly as snow formed into what looked like Raimundo, but not. He held a bouquet of tiger lilies, yellow and red mottled roses, and some kind of white flower that she couldn't quite name, not one of which had a water spraying attachment.

"Olá bela," he said, holding the flowers out to her. It normally drove her crazy when he spoke portugese because she couldn't understand a word of it, but this time she knew he was saying "hello beautiful." It was nice to know what he was saying, she had to really concentrate to remind herself that this was't real, that no matter how pretty he was, no matter how real he seemed, this wasn't really happening.

"And because two can be as bad as one, you know it's the lonliest number since the number one..." Another finger snapping and the courtyard is filled with people.

A boy of average height with a thick shock of black hair who looked incredibly like Omi. a boy who looked like he was right out of a rodeo ad, probably Clay. The monks milling about the courtyard, all of them looking like a PBS special on monastaries she'd seen once. A beautiful middle-eastern woman sitting with her feet in the fountain and smiling. Master Fung sitting and meditating under the cherry tree rather than eating the cherries. Dojo looked far more regal and intimidating than ever. A good version of Chase laughing at something Guan said. The Jack hovering over the fountain was evil though, there was no way him turning good could end will for anyone. And strangely enough, her parents, together, holding hands and looking more in love than she'd ever seen them.

Their divorce had been amicable, they agreed that they were better off as friends than as a couple, but there was always a little part of her mind that wanted them to get back together. Her mom tried her hardest to not be working for a story in a foreign country at holidays or on her birthday, but being an international reporter made things difficult. There were times when she really just wanted to talk to her mom.

She ran into their open arms, tears pricking at the edge of her eyes even though she knew that this was all an illusion. "Look at how you've grown," her mom said, her blue eyes shining with matching tears. "I remember back when you were the shortest ballerina in your dance class. Where has the time gone?"

"I don't know," she said. "I don't know." She closed her eyes, tried to pretend for a moment that at least this was real. That at least the thought of having a whole family again would be enough for now. She knew that she was being silly, her parents were at least good friends, but it just wasn't the same.

"All of this can be yours," a voice whispered in her ear. "The world, without its flaws. All you have to do is let me go free." She begain to think about it, playing with the flames like a piano, her own body beautiful and without hundreds of little scars gained from training and fighting evil, no problems in the world, her friends without the things that annoyed her, her parents together again. A fairy tale come true.

But fairytales, no matter how beautiful, were not real life. The boy giving her flowers, that wasn't Raimundo. The cowboy and the thick haired monk weren't Clay or Omi. Minerva never smiled like that, especially not in relation to water. Master Fung would never let good cherries go to waste and Dojo didn't take his position as temple guardian that seriously. And no matter how much she wanted it to be so, these weren't her parents. She could't delude herself of that.

"No," she said. "You're not going to be free. No matter what you do, I'm not going to let you go." The area around her vanished and she was back in the sitting room. The dragon before her looked crushed.

"Alright," he said, accepting defeat. "Allow me to escort you back to the door." He knelt down, offering his back for her to ride. She raised on eyebrow and gave him a disgusted look. "Come on firefly. Not like that. I'm a lot of things, but not a sore loser. I'd rather not make you walk through hell again."

"Fine," she said, cautiously leaping to his back. A moment later, he spread his wings and soared towards the obsidian cieling. For a moment, she thought they were going to crash into it, but instead they soared through the stone. They were back in the desert again, flying towards the horizon. They touched down a few minutes later in the soft sand before a simple stone door to nowhere.

"Would it be too much to ask one favor from you?" he asked as she slid from his back. He'd been honerable enough, if a bit of a sleeze, so she nodded yes. "If I take away the sorceress's memories, I mean really take them away, can I have a glimpse of the outside? I give my word I won't leave, I just want a look."

She thought about the way he worded it, just a look in exchange for hundreds of years worth of borderline phsycotic actions. He gave his word that he wouldn't leave, but she wasn't sure if she could trust the word of a dragon.

"Please firefly, I've seen the world change through a looking glass, I want to see it for real, without magic filtering it," he said.

"Fine. I'll hold the door open for a moment on my side, but if you even think of passing through I will end you," she said.

"Fair enough. Come here a moment. I rather like the idea of filling out my half of the bargain," he said, beckoning her closer with his refined talons.

She took a step closer to him and he pressed his nose to her forehead. For a moment, it seemed like nothing happened, but then a comfortable warmth spread throughout her body. It was nothing like the heat of the days past, but rather like coming in from a snowy day to a cup of hot chocolate. A moment later, about a thousand years were taken from her head. She could still remember things, but it was like she was remembering a story someone once told her. Not like before when they were very clearly her memories.

"Thank you," she said, turning the handle on the door and stepping through. She turned back for a momet once she was on the other side, a giant glistening tear rolled down Ignatius's face.

"No, thank you," he said, taking in every detail of the small room before him. After a few seconds, he gave a reluctant nod and she shut the door behind her.

Okay, good, bad indifferent? Let me know. The review button is your friend as always. Plus, I kind of do want to know why it seems like nobody's reviewing my nonsense anymore. Even if you don't, I've got cranberry orange pancakes here for you to enjoy along with some lovely french vanilla instant coffee.