Playing with Fire

Playing with Fire- Chapter Eleven

Well, here it is, what you've all been waiting for. The eleventh chapter of Playing with Fire! Just a suggestion, if you guys enjoy the story, you could maybe reccomend it to other people. I'd love to have more people to give me constructive critiscm.

**IMPORTANT QUESTION** Based on how quickly I'm updating and where I am in the story (just use your judgement), do you guys think I should enter the Watty Awards? Or should I wait and see and maybe enter if I know I'm going to finish in time? I'd love your opinions on this, so please answer!! **IMPORTANT QUESTION**

And yet again, I've completely forgotten about the story. Ah well. You didn't want to read it anyway, did you?

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Neither of us slept all night. We'd spent some of our coins on a nice hotel room with two beds and a bathing room, and the hot turkey they supplied us with for a bit more money should have made us tired. Still, when I tried to sleep the images of Mark flashed across the backs of my eyelids like lightning against clouds.

Like I had after touching the brown smog, Hayden spent most of the quiet night lying down. The entire room was clean and fashioned from light-hued materials. Moonlight refracted through the large bay window and coloured the white wooden floor a pale blue-green.

There were no sounds, save for our breathing and occasional animal sounds and carriage wheels against cobblestone from outside. My throat was still a little sore from the fight, and Hayden refused to speak because whenever he tried to say something his voice wavered.

Finally I managed to get to sleep, but I was plagued with dreams of dead bodies and brown mist that left me gasping when I woke up the next morning. Hayden, with dark circles under his tired blue eyes, was standing over me and shaking my shoulder.

"You were crying," he informed me, a deadly serious expression on his normally cheery face.

I sat up slowly. The pounding in my head was such that I could barely think to formulate words, let alone an entire sentence. Sunlight glinted on the copper bedpost and glared in my eyes. I blinked repeatedly, trying to clear the fog from my head.

"Mm," I murmured, pushing myself up off of the bed and onto slightly unsteady feet. "What time is it?" Hayden peered out the window, supposedly looking for a sundial. Either that or the position of the Sun in the sky.

"Around ten o'clock," he answered, flopping down onto one of the cushions surrounding the tea table. "By the way, they handed these out." He tossed a scroll my way. I caught it deftly, my body already returning to its normal state and pushing away the fatigue. The scroll was thick and printed, like an ink press had been used to write out the words.

Dragon Masters Missing!

Three Dragon Masters have been reported missing for four nights now. Seeing as the Zhǎngwò hǎo yùn was found dead little over two weeks ago, the entire world is anxious about the disappearances of these three young Xuétú. Mark Wallberg, the Zhǎngwò Xǐyuè, has been missing since four mornings ago. Reiara Minn and Hayden Drake, the Diànlì shuòshì and Grand High Emperor, were dicovered missing the morning after but are suspected to have disappeared the night before. Trainer Ko, Trainer of Míngxiǎng on the Dragon Isles, has this to say about Reiara and Hayden's departure:

"Those two were always all over each other. The Diànlì shuòshì was always distracted and never focused on her studies; this was always inevitable bringing a girl into the sacred flow of Běnzhí. I suspect that she convinced the young Grand High Emperor to leave the islands for some big romantic adventure, although they should soon return when they realize they cannot live without our teachings. If you are reading this right now, Xuétú, I reccomend you return. Both of you need to continue your studies, especially Reiara. I seem to remember you having trouble with your Diànyuán and connecting with your Dragon."