More and more, Drake found himself at the Avatar Alcove, situated so poetically by the rushing, rolling sea. It made sense, he supposed, that they would be located on the edge of the world, where all elements seemed to come together. The wind and the waves crashing against the cliffs as the world buzzed with the fire of life.

Alika had disappeared for the day, to tend to her apprentices. She had mentioned their progression, and had taken them to the shores to see just how they would fare with their abilities.

While he loved watched them bend and morph the water at will, another area always fascinated him- the air. Even before the Alliance, he had made friends with the Avatars, finding a common ground in preserving the world. While they dealt with tangible elements, he dealt in the realm of the mind. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with. Add the mystical MSI, and they seemed unstoppable. Seemed...

As he strolled across the grounds, he saw the young Avatars hard at work, and wondered just where Licht was while those under him practice so diligently. In his time there, he had come to respect the Avatar, and often times, he found that he was quite pleasant. It was not wonder Tristan and Alika got along so well...

"I love teaching," said Tristan. He had strode up beside Drake to observe his charges. "It's hard at times, though. To let them find their own way without getting in someone else's often takes more wit than a humble avatar, such as I, may have."

He produced a pair of binoculars from a pocket and had a look at his students. "Pray tell, old friend, what brings you to our humble abode?"

"To let them find their own way without getting in someone else's often takes more wit than a humble avatar, such as I, may have."

"And you've the answer before I've even answered the question," Drake mused with a smile, turning to cast a look at Tristan before turning back to observe the younger avatars again. "I do understand that...The other DreamWalkers, when they listen...Well, it's never an easy task to complete."

"Pray tell, old friend, what brings you to our humble abode?" the seemingly young man beside him asked. A slight grin appeared on Drake's lips at that. Ah...Well, at the moment, she was with her young charges, splashing amid the waves.

"Well, the original reason was to see Alika, but as always, it is a treat to see all of you at work," Drake replied, finally tearing his eyes away from the spectacle before him to converse with Tristan. "And how have you been since we last spoke? It has been some time, hasn't it? I find myself losing track of that these days."

"And how have you been since we last spoke? It has been some time, hasn't it? I find myself losing track of that these days."

Tristan nodded. "They say that time is of the essence. But whoever "they" are, they're dead and we're still here. Being immortal while having flesh and blood-for more than a week or so-is a fairly new experience to me."

He gestured towards his students, "I wonder about them. Will they have endless life like us, or live a paltry century, if that? I hope for the former, as I am becoming attached to my wards."

Of course, Drake had been by to see Alika. If one considered her the leader of the avatars, which was her if it was anybody, she was one of the great powers on this earth. And she was as beautiful as Helen of Troy. That made things even more complicated for men like Drake.

"So," he began, "you came to see Alika? Be good to her, friend. She means a lot to me."

"Being immortal while having flesh and blood-for more than a week or so-is a fairly new experience to me," Tristan said, and as Drake weighed the words, it all seemed so strange to him. He had known them all, in one form or another, for quite some time, but it was true. Their forms, flesh and blood and heart, it wasn't all that old.

"I can't imagine, suddenly being born into a body, though your souls are timeless. Well, I can imagine somewhat, but even still...Amazing, to me, just the same."

"I hope for the former, as I am becoming attached to my wards."

Drake chuckled, clasping Tristan's shoulder. "I never knew you were the sentimental type, Monsieur Light," he said with obvious fondness and a smile. "But I do understand...Unfortunately, my DreamWalkers will live a lasting life, only to fade. I had thought it was the same with all of the newer generations. Attachment is such a fickle thing."

As he spoke of Alika, Drake's smile faded, his look sincere as he nodded. She was important to this world, to those in it, and even more so to him. "I promise you, Tristan...And should I ever break that promise in any way, I ask that you do something about it. She doesn't deserve to be hurt."

Alika was all that he had searched for, it seemed, and he couldn't dream of bringing a frown to her face or unhappy tears to her eyes. It would surely hurt him just as much, if not more, than it would her, whatever the cause.

"I promise you, Tristan...And should I ever break that promise in any way, I ask that you do something about it. She doesn't deserve to be hurt."

Tristan nodded solemnly, then allowed himself a grin. "She's not made of glass, Drake," he replied, "have you ever dealt with Melisande when she's in a mood? I haven't and I hope to never try.

But Alika can calm her down. And it takes a spine to deal with such miscreants as me and Dean."

Although he and Dean were hardly ruffians, Melisande had a temper to her. Alika was the Avatars' essential link. She connected him to Melisande in a way that allowed them to move in the same direction instead of dissolving into a four-way tug-of-war.

Still, she'd let Drake into herself. Maybe she'd told him things that Tristan was not privy to. And the closer you allow someone to come, the greater their capacity to hurt you becomes. And Drake was right, she did not deserve to be hurt.

Tristan played that role that the human's had of the over-protective brother all too well. He gave a slight smile, shaking his head at the mention of Melisande. Alika had told him quite a few stories of that one with the volatile temper.

"Have you ever dealt with Melisande when she's in a mood? I haven't and I hope to never try," Tristan said, his commentary causing Drake to chuckle quietly, shaking his head once again, but to respond this time.

"No...I can say, with much gratitude, that I have never had the...opportunity to encounter Ms. Pryor, in a mood or otherwise," he told Tristan, nodding as the way Alika could handle the literal fireball became quite evident.

It seemed that they were all connected, just like the world was connected by the elements they controlled. The interactions of them all reflected in their personalities, and even in their looks. It was amazing, the detail of the things that appeared to be so misunderstood.

"So, Tristan...Any posing threats I should report to MSI when I return?" he asked, figuring it was not a bad chance of conversation. A part of him, the part that held Alika so close, was reluctant to talk about her. He had said more to Tristan than he had mentioned to anyone else, and still, he kept her name, her spirit that he carried inside of him guarded, protected.

"So, Tristan...Any posing threats I should report to MSI when I return?"

Tristan considered things. "At the risk of sounding clichéd, it's too quiet. Right now, things seem to be moving along in a more orderly way than is natural. Perhaps Dean will know something, he always has an ear to the ground."

His thoughtful expression evaporated. He grimaced playfully, "I did NOT just say that. It just slipped out, somehow. I beg of you friend, do not tell anyone of my pun habit. Melisande would be at me with 'hot air', 'wind bag', and the Gods know what else 'til I would be driven to madness."

"At the risk of sounding clichéd, it's too quiet. Right now, things seem to be moving along in a more orderly way than is natural."

Both Alika and Danae had said the same things the last time he spoke with them about business. Too quiet was hardly a good thing in the realm of otherworldly beings. It was never quiet, never calm, unless a great disruption of mythic proportions was on the rise.

Shaken from his thoughts at the pun, Drake shook his head, dissolving into laughter as he crossed his arms over his chest and bowed his head. "Ami, not a word...But I must say, that was surprisingly mundane, even for you," Drake commented, his voice taking on a joking air as he reached over once again, patting Tristan's back in quiet assurance. Not a word, never. Drake had heard the tales of Melisande's lack of mercy; he certainly wouldn't wish that on anyone.

"A calm before the storm, then?" Drake mused, pressing his lips together in silent thought. "I can only dread what will come of it."

"A calm before the storm, then?" Drake mused, pressing his lips together in silent thought. "I can only dread what will come of it."

Tristan shook his head. Dreading was not entirely productive, and robbed one of one's peace of mind. But whatever was coming, for he feared that Drake was right, would likely be rather formidable.

"Perhaps when you're not dreading," Tristan rejoined, "you can be preparing. I find my problems easier to deal with if I believe that I am being productive." He once more gestured at his practicing students.

[b]"Boreas' wings!" he swore, "I'm making them miss dinner. How long have we been talking?"

"Perhaps when you're not dreading, you can be preparing. I find my problems easier to deal with if I believe that I am being productive."

Taking his words into deep consideration, Drake began to nod. "Perhaps...I fear this battle will be swift in coming, and preparation will be fruitless, but you do offer sound advice, Tristan, as always."

"Boreas' wings! I'm making them miss dinner. How long have we been talking?"

"You're asking the wrong person, my friend. I've told you- time means little to me and seems to pass me by no matter what I do. But to answer, it couldn't have been long. Not even the better half of an hour, I don't think."

Drake chuckled, giving a slight shake of his head. Tristan hadn't been joking in the slightest when he said that he became attached to his students. He thought that they were fully capable of getting to dinner on their own, but perhaps he did have to dismiss them.

"Perhaps...I fear this battle will be swift in coming, and preparation will be fruitless, but you do offer sound advice, Tristan, as always."

Tristan understood the sentiment completely. However, he still liked having something to do.

"You're asking the wrong person, my friend. I've told you- time means little to me and seems to pass me by no matter what I do. But to answer, it couldn't have been long. Not even the better half of an hour, I don't think."

"You don't understand," Tristan half-groaned, "they've been at it for hours. If I don't put them inside soon, they'll keel over from exhaustion."

"You see, I told them two things. First, that they should practice until they could no longer improve. Then I told them that they can always improve."

Tristan snapped his fingers three times in quick secession. Each quiet snap was accompanied by a short burst of thunder. "There we go," he said. "That's what passes for a dinner bell around here."

"You don't understand. They've been at it for hours. If I don't put them inside soon, they'll keel over from exhaustion."

Drake gave a nod. He had followed the same code of conduct with the younger DreamWalkers, those that had been made by a second generation and were not gifted with immortality. Though they were more resilient than most average humans, they could still tire after some time and must be given a break.

"You see, I told them two things. First, that they should practice until they could no longer improve. Then I told them that they can always improve."

"Sound advice, Master Tristan," Drake told him, nodding approvingly as he surveyed the young avatars below them.

As the thunder rumbled through the air, all of them ceased their movements and he could see all of their heads turn. It was quite impressive. Raising both brows, he looked at Tristan with a slight grin. "I suppose ringing a gong would be overdone, hmm?" he joked, stepping off to the side.

"I suppose ringing a gong would be overdone, hmm?"

Tristan pretended not to notice the joke and thickened his British accent for comedic effect. "Well, good gongs are so hard to find these days. Ah loike the kind that sound lak a black 'ole 'aving a 'ernia, if yeh know wot Ah mean. Preferably with a whackin' great dragon or somethin' engraved onter it."

Tristan actually did have three or four gongs that matched that description very well tucked away somewhere. He just didn't like how everyone took a whack at them on sight. Gongs going off every eighteen seconds made it impossible to get anything done.

"The fact of it, Drake," he continued returning to his typical accent, "is that I like to show off what I can do to them in very casual ways. Laser pointers, little thunderclaps, evaporating a towel dry, you know. I find humans are more impressed by little things like that than they are by whirlwinds all over the place."

Drake couldn't help but laugh at the exaggerated accent that Tristan put on. Normally, the man's voice held a hint of British composure, but never so extreme. Drake often wondered how he came to possess such an accent, but had always refrained from asking. Perhaps it was just personal preference...

"Is that I like to show off what I can do to them in very casual ways. Laser pointers, little thunderclaps, evaporating a towel dry, you know. I find humans are more impressed by little things like that than they are by whirlwinds all over the place." said Tristan, explaining his reasons for showcasing such seemingly small, yet quite extraordinary talents.

Though Drake could see into a person's mind, heart, and soul, he could not command the elements, and so, held a large amount of respect and awe for the Avatars. "I must say...It is quite impressive. And though I've known of your kind for centuries, it never ceases to amaze me, the things you can do."

He looked toward the field, then back to Tristan again. If it was past dinnertime, then he suppopsed Alika would return shortly. But then, she did lose all track of time when working with her wards. That was beginning to be a common thread within all of them.

"Well, what awaits us now?" he asked finally, glancing at the sky as he often did, then back to Tristan again.

"I must say...It is quite impressive. And though I've known of your kind for centuries, it never ceases to amaze me, the things you can do."

Tristan had trouble envisioning life without his powers. They were as much a part of him as his arms and legs. Perhaps more so as he had had them longer.

"Well, what awaits us now?"

At this, the mighty and powerful Avatar of Air felt an explosion of laughter in his gut. Drake was asking him? He was teaching his proteges to be the best allies possible. That was all he knew to do at this point. Of course he had an ear to the ground, but there was only so much he could know.

Having suppressed his laugh with the skill of long practice, he half-griped, [b]"Well, how should I know Drake? I'm not the precognitive one in this equation.

"I suppose you'll pursue a relationship with Alika, Marcus will assemble the largest collection of Frank Sinatra music known to man, Melisande will get mad at me for something, Dean will find himself a nice little rock to crawl under and there will be an amorous mole underneath it, and I suppose I'll see if I can turn my students into soldiers. Maybe I should talk to Piers about that. He probably knows something about that sort of affair."

"Well, how should I know Drake? I'm not the precognitive one in this equation." he asked, and Drake raised a brow, feeling the smile threatening already. This English language was a tricky thing to master, even after all these years. Concise statements seemed to elude the DreamWalker from time to time.

Drake found himself laughing along with Tristan as he shook his head, running a hand back through the unruly, shaggy hair the insisted on falling in his eyes.

"Thank you, Master Licht, for that glimpse into the future...But I meant more in the present tense of the question. What happens now? Dinner, evening lessons, that sort of thing."

A smile lingered on his lips and he honestly did think of the things that Tristan had said...It all seemed entirely possible and wholly probably...Perhaps the Avatar was a little precognitive after all, or merely perceptive.

"Thank you, Master Licht, for that glimpse into the future...But I meant more in the present tense of the question. What happens now? Dinner, evening lessons, that sort of thing."

"Oh," said Tristan.

"Well, they get dinner. I have them eating when they get hungry instead of a three-meal system, but they get lunch together and dinner every four days. The idea is to build cohesion while keeping them independant. Also, the eating several ight meals system instead of three heavy ones is healthier. I mostly have them eat together to help them get to know each other. After that, I they get some form of instruction. They're learning dance, music, martial arts, marksmanship, rhetoric, philosophy, meteorology and a few other things in addition to magic."

"Seriously, have you ever read a Harry Potter book? Those kids would solve every problem that came up with magic. That wouldn't do."

Drake gave a nod, pleased to hear that the lives of the up and coming avatars did not revolve around magic tricks and spells and chants.

"Seriously, have you ever read a Harry Potter book? Those kids would solve every problem that came up with magic. That wouldn't do," he heard his companion for the moment say, and had to chuckle at the very idea of solving all humanly problems with a quick spell or potion.

"I can't say that I have, but I do remember the controversy all those years ago, when magic was imaginable and witchcraft a taboo subject."

Thinking on it for just a moment longer, he nodded to the young ones again, ceasing their lessons to head inside for their evening meal. "It's good, what you're teaching them," he began, thoughtful for the moment at hand. "They'll need to know far more than how to stir the winds or calm the rains...They'll need to know of heart and soul, of right and wrong, of life and death, though it may never touch them. Compassion, integrity, loyalty, honor...all those things this world has forgotten so easily."

"I can't say that I have, but I do remember the controversy all those years ago, when magic was imaginable and witchcraft a taboo subject."

Tristan nodded. Some thought that all power had to come from some central God or Devil. Ridiculous, how does electricity even figure in to that mess of logic. Besides, he was reasonably sure that the kids in that ridiculous series had celebrated Christmas.

"It's good, what you're teaching them," he began, thoughtful for the moment at hand. "They'll need to know far more than how to stir the winds or calm the rains...They'll need to know of heart and soul, of right and wrong, of life and death, though it may never touch them. Compassion, integrity, loyalty, honor...all those things this world has forgotten so easily."

Our Avatar of Air was not much one for honor. Seemed to him a way to control men through their pride. A useful thing, but best taken with a grain of salt. Other than that, Drake was dead on. After all, were a conflict to come his students would have to be the best they could be. Otherwise, even if the conflict was won would be nearly as bad as a loss.

"The world forgets what it needs to forget. If it remembered everything, the following pandemonium would turn things inside-out and backwards. Or, if the masses knew their past, perhaps much of the foolishness that goes on would have long since ceased."

Tristan was not entirely sure how he meant that. There was too much ambiguity even for his liking. However, it seemed the appropriate thing to say.

He found it refreshing, to stand in such similar company with a being that had seen it all from the sidelines and knew that patterns that the world turned around.

"The world forgets what it needs to forget. If it remembered everything, the following pandemonium would turn things inside-out and backwards. Or, if the masses knew their past, perhaps much of the foolishness that goes on would have long since ceased," he heard Tristan say, brows furrowing as he pondered on the meaning of those words.

For quite some time, the words danced within his mind before he gave a slow nod. "A necessary cycle, this remembering to forget," Drake said, moreso thinking out loud as he finally turned his eyes to Tristan again. "I suppose I should leave you to your duties, non?"

"A necessary cycle, this remembering to forget. I suppose I should leave you to your duties, non?"

Perhaps he should. Tristan was slacking off. Well, Drake was an old friend. It was understandable. However, obligations were obligations. He couldn't very well claim to be a very good Avatar if he spent all his time talking.

"I suppose so, Drake," Tristan replied, "we both have work to do. Still, drop by some time. I'll make knishes or something."

Tristan had little patience with food, but rather enjoyed playing about with it. Being mostly unaffected by it, he saw cooking as a sort of frivolous hobby. Still, he found himself making crepes or lo mein every couple of months. Truthfully, he wasn't sure why.

Drake gave a nod, knowing all too well of the respsonsibilities of a leader, a mentor.

"Still, drop by some time. I'll make knishes or something," said Tristan, and Drake merely smiled at the gesture.

"Of course, Master Licht...And do visit Castle Reve sometime...I think you'd find it much to your liking."

Giving a slight bow, Drake turned on a heel and made his leave. As he walked away, steps echoing hollowly, he thought over his conversation with Tristan, and how the man, sometimes so flippant and jovial, yet cryptic as well, could spark so many thoughts. They could speak for hours; it had been proven time and time again...

Drake chuckled out loud, shaking his head, descending the stairs and disappearing out of sight.