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The big issue, as far as I can tell (really, it had reached a boiling point by the time I found the comic anyway) is that, when the comic started, Taeshi was accepting of fan characters and started including them in her comic. McCain, Carter, Carson, Tess and a certain Yellow Dog made it onto the cast list officially. Then, well, certain fan character creators started demanding to have more control over how their characters appeared, essentially making it more trouble than it was worth. This ultimately resulted in most of the fan characters being killed off and removed from the cast page, and left Taeshi with a boiling hatred for them.

Again, this is what I've gathered. I wasn't here for it and it was already at the boiling point when I started reading, so if I'm wrong, someone please correct me on it.

The camera-man walked towards him, the discordant tinkling of its tempered steel parts almost musical.

“What are you?” asked the man, his once brave voice reduced to nothing more than a harsh whisper. The camera-man’s iris contracted in a curious fashion as it regarded him, its features so utterly alien that the man could only guess at its thoughts. Around him the world was at a standstill, as if time itself respected this creature so much as to freeze in its presence. Gone was the rhythmic ticking of the clock, gone was the insistent beep of the microwave, and gone was the shrill shriek of the kettle. There was only him and the creature, the beast, alone together in this pocket out of time with only the silence to keep them company.

The man spoke again, his voice catching in his throat like so many fettered emotions.

“What…what do you want?”
The camera-man’s head slowly turned to the window, followed by the man’s faltering gaze. In a flash the darkened field outside was gone, in its place the vast, humbling expanse of interstellar space. As the man watched something came into view, something huge and vast and beyond human comprehension, and with a jolt he realized it did not fly in front but behind the stars. It soared on wings of membranous energy, its presence accompanied by that deep bass rumble that set big things apart from big things, that touched some long forgotten primal spot buried in the man’s mind and for a split second filled him with a deep resonating fear. And as quickly as it had come it was gone, the darkened field once again where it belonged and everything as it was. The man looked back to the creature in confusion.

“What…?” The camera-man bowed its head in an all too human display of sorrow and stepped back into the shadows, its mechanical eye glinting golden once before it disappeared. Like an ancient machine slowly waking time started to move, and once again the man was alone, nothing but the rhythmic ticking of the clock, the insistent beep of the microwave, and the shrill shriek of the kettle to keep him company.

“Magic,” she repeated with a sort of half smile, her head cocked ever so slightly to the side. She chuckled good naturedly, as though the word ‘magic’ was something she had not heard for many thousands of years. She closed her eyes, letting the ball of flame go out, and shook her great head.

“No, it’s not magic,” she said after a moment. “Though, I’m sure it must seem as much… To you.”

With a particular gleam in her eye she did it again, this time swiping her claw through the air in such a fashion that to Caedryn it seemed as though she was pulling fire from the fabric of reality itself. He stared at the writhing ball of flame in the palm of her hand, intrigued.

“Your atmosphere contains oxygen,” she explained calmly. “One of the constants of your universe is friction. Friction creates heat and stress and that, in turn, can ignite the oxygen, if used correctly.”

Without warning she brought down her other hand and snuffed the flame. Startled, Caedryn jumped back, and Rakshiv just grinned.

“Fire cannot exist without a fuel source. Without something to eat, it dies…”

She uncovered her palm and Caedryn hesitantly leaned in to see. The fire had gone, and the dragon’s once yellow palm was marred with streaks of burnt ochre. Confused he looked up at her, only to be met with her enigmatic grin.

“But oxygen is such an abundant fuel source, on this and many other planets, and if I rub the molecules together and excite them in just the right way…” She trailed off and once again dragged her claw through the air, this time slower and more deliberate. Caedryn watched eagerly. He watched the slow movement of her claw, the nearly imperceptible point where she excited the molecules in the air, followed by a bright spark, a low bass ‘thunk’ and the ignition of oxygen that led to the fire. He stared at it, confused, trying to conceptualize the process that the ancient dragon had used.

“…But how?” he asked after a moment. Rakshiv cocked her head to the side.

“I just told you.”

“But…” he trailed off, unable to formulate his words. “How… How do you… I don’t understand.”

Rakshiv thought for a moment, the ball of fire playing games in her hand, but didn’t have an answer.

“HOW do you do it?” asked Caedryn, exasperated. Rakshiv smiled benevolently. The flame licked playfully at her hand before going out.

“I don’t know,” was her answer. “I just do.”

Caedryn was miffed. All that explanation and demonstration for nothing. He glared at her and she smiled back, her tail wrapped around her body like a long fire coloured snake. He opened his mouth, closed it, looked away, inspected the sky, glared at her.

“One of these days,” he said, pointing at her. “One of these days I’ll get your secrets you… You…”

“You what?”

She was smiling, always smiling, as though his petty concerns and peeves were nothing to her. Caedryn had no words, and with a smile she stood and stretched before promptly phasing out of local time-space, leaving him once again alone.

“Don’t be so eager to learn everything,” she said, her ethereal voice echoing through the trees like a ghost. “It’ll all come in time, my friend. All in time…”

He started walking back to the village, not sure if he wanted to feel angry or awed at the powers she seemed to take for granted.

“All in time…”