Dawn would come all too quickly and with the rising rays of the sun would bring a mission to aid MSI yet again, although an excuse to get out and legitimately use the powers she had been gifted with was much needed. Although she kept to herself, Mel was beginning to feel confined and restricted doing nothing more than teaching those who shared the powers of the element that she had controlled for centuries untold. Charged with maintaining a balance in a world constantly teetering on the edge of chaos and order, Mel remembered a time when balance was not always the thing first and foremost on the Avatar's minds.

She entered her room and left the lights off, pulling her boots from feet and the socks after it, leaving her barefoot on red carpeted floor. Humanity was an odd thing, even after all this time, and sometimes Melisande never got tired of the little things that could bring so much enjoyment. Like a bed. . .She found her way to the object in the dark by muscle memory alone, her feet knowing just how far to walk and when to stop. Another little marvel. The length for which she would retain her human form was not known to her and it was for that reason alone that she kept herself so carefully guarded and distant from the mortals that she, deep down, cared for. Seeing Danae earlier in the evening had only reminded her sharply of an inner longing to be closer to them although her fear of the human lifespan kept her from doing so.

She fell onto the bed and half dragged the covers up to her waist, her head finding the pillow. Exhaustion crept in and she remembered, again, a time when sleep was not quite necessary for her existance. So much had changed. . .Within minutes she was asleep, gone into the land of dreams and darkness where the subconscious ruled and everything made sense while nothing at all made any kind of sense. Rules were made to be broken in this realm and worries of the human mind, even for an immortal, were never far from the surface of thought.

The sky flashed as blood red as the flame from which she had sprung, the heat in the air stifling and constricting to anyone that was not like her. And how many were? Her students. . .although not quite so much. Flames licked at scorched earth, leaping from chasms in the parched ground and in the distance a sound of thunder rumbled, lightning raking fingers of claws across the reddened, swollen sky overhead. It looked nothing like the world in which she lived and yet she knew that it could be what the world would become if the evil invading was allowed to win out. . .

Melisande moved barefoot across the smoking ground, her legs exposed to the heat by the filmy red sleeveless dress that adorned her, the folds of the shimmering material falling to just above her knees, the torso tight fitting and covering the flesh beneath barely. As though perhaps the red material of the dress might have been an illusion, a trick of the light glimmering and shimmering as it was. She didn't quite know where the garment had come from nor did she pause to give it much thought. Although never caught dead in a dress in her mortal form it was not an uncommon sort of thing for her to wear back when she had been not quite as human as she was now. . .Although never human. Human in only body and nothing else. Emotion and thought. . .

Electric blue eyes the color of blue flame turned onto the ground as she moved, sliding over a headstone jutting up from the ground like a hand breaking through a coffin lid. Walker. . .Lorcan. . .the graves were everywhere and all around, surrounding her in a circle from which she couldn't escape. She didn't care. . .but she did. And although she tried her damnest not to she couldn't escape the truth staring her in the face, that she did care, that she longed to save them all from the fate they crashed headlong into with abandon, that she wished she could do more than sit on the sidelines until someone called for her aid. . .They would all die. They would pass on from the earth and become dust forgotten by time, forgotten when all those with memories of them faded too. . .

Nightmares were not something to which Melisande was accustomed but inside her own mind on the grounds of flaming lands with the names of those she had come to care for etched on gravestones, that was exactly what it was. A nightmare of the most horrific proportions for her. For nothing scared the immortal Avatar more than thinking she would lose everything that had slid close to her heart, that she would be able to do nothing to save them from the fact that they were what she could never truly be. . .mortal.

He heard the whispers of agony and the cries of kindred as he sat perched on his balcony at Castle Reve. Lifting his eyes to the skies, he saw the waves coming from down the way, and with a sigh, he closed his eyes, tapping into the force and narrowing down just where it came from...Nightmares were all around, but it was only when something such as the red blazing in the realm of the dreams caught his eye that he went forward for action, for reinforcement.

Eyes shut, Drake channeled the energy and traced it back to none other than Melisande Pryor. He had known her for centuries and had made her acquaintance long before she had acquired her human form...When she had been just a goddess of the fire and brimstone, wreaking havoc and punishing those who deserved it...And he...had always been the same.

Taking to the skies, allowing his body to remain as he transported himself to her side, Drake sought to rouse her from sleep, having seen the terrors she faced. While for a normal mortal, they simply would have been unnerving, Drake could now hear the erratic heartbeat within the Avatar's chest. Materializing by her side, he knelt down and took her hand, and within a moment, he had positioned himself within her dream, standing by her side...

Fear...She was afraid of attachment, if only because she knew that someday, she would no longer be given this body and would leave those she had come to care for behind. "Wake up, Melisande...This will not come to pass," he coaxed, knowing that mental faculties were necessary for the Avatar to perform her duties...

The flames around her did not frighten her for they were from what she had come, that which she was ultimately made of and for. It was the headstones that surrounded her, the names etched so permanently in a way that she could not fix or undo. It was not within her power however she might wish that it was. And that was the long and short of it. The people around her, for the most part, where mortal and would therefore die when their life was up. Why should she sacrifice her heart and sanity to get close to those that she knew that she would lose inevitably? Short were the lifespans of mortals. . .made even shorter still by the fact that those she called allies rushed headlong into battle and danger.

On the verge of mild panic, Melisande started when she heard a voice right next to her and felt something touching her physical body. . .a strong and warm hand in her own. She looked down with narrowed eyes to her own empty hands then back up. No surprise. . .Lips parted slightly as she regarded the Dreamwalker standing next to her. His words reached her ears and she shook her head at him slowly, turning back to regard the headstone with Danae Walker imprinted forever in the cold and unforgiving stone. She had known Drake for centuries and yet she had never truly known him, not permitting anyone to get close other than Alika.

"You can't say that," she said finally, waving a hand at the tombstones and even in the dreamworld the flames around them rose higher with the motion before dying back down. "It's the life of an Immortal to leave those not quite so inclined to longevity behind. . .They will all die, sooner or later."

It wasn't a nightmare so much as it was truth and the truth scared her more than anything else. Although at the same time she was angry that Drake had caught her in such a weakened moment for surely Mel regarded fear as a weakness and there he was standing in her world, her dream. . .seeing what she would have never let him see on any other day in any other place.

"This is my dream, Drake, what are you doing here?"

As soon as the state of waking fell upon her, Drake dissipated from the dream, though the visions of the gravestones still haunted him. Standing in her quarters, where he knew he had no place to be, Drake ran a hand along his jaw, sighing heavily.

Despite his desire to be free, and his wish for her happiness, he could not let her go, and as his heart raced from seeing her name etched forever in stone, Drake had begun to realize that which Melisande and the other avatars avoided so adamantly. Loving a mortal, in any way, was a recipe for insanity....

"Ah, well,that is the beauty of being a DreamWalker, Mel. Your dreams are my playground and I just took a leap off the jungle gym," he said, his words lacking their usual eloquence as he saw, again and again, the headstone of Raelin Lorcan. The seal of MSI was engraved in the top, words of kindness no doubt pinned by Danae etched along the bottom edge...And she had been so young.

Forcing back the emotions, swallowing back the tide of feelings that still had yet to die for the headstrong investigator, Drake turned his gaze to Melisande and wondered, if for a moment, she had found the same entrapment before.

"And so, it's your fear, is it? Growing close only to lose them?"

She had to remind herself that the man standing in her room was not just some mortal but in and above her own league. Powerful, he was, although she never had a thought to any harm he could cause her. He wouldn't and she could very well hold her own. . .although not in his world. Still, they were not enemies and never had been. Nor had they been friends, either, for even among those with a lifespan that would match her own she had remained aloof. Only Alika had spanned that gap in between her walls and her heart. . .Alika and one other that she never spoke of. Her teeth clenched, ground together as she watched him standing above her bed.

He had caught her in her weakness. She hated that above all else but. . .nothing to be done about it now. She flung back the covers and bare feet hit the floor as she stood, her flame blue eyes blazing for a second in her anger before she quieted the raging storms within her own heart. Again her thoughts earlier in the day came back to her. . .she had pushed everyone away, kept them all a safe distance and now there Drake stood in a place that he never should have been, so close and wanting to help in his own way. He had woken her from terror. . .he needn't of done that and still he had come. If she pushed him away now. . .

Angry though she was that he had caught her in a moment of all to human weakness, she could not lash out at him like her temper wanted to. Although her eyes blazed the color of the hottest flames, shining blue in the darkened room, she held onto her anger and did not let it consume her. She had been scolding herself earlier for keeping up the walls around her heart and being, what good would it do now to send him away? She could see the pains in his blue eyes, the things that he thought but did not say and she knew that her nightmare had bothered not only her but him as well. Still, she said nothing of it, having to struggle not to giveaway her own heart.

"Should it not be?" she demanded, and had to take a deep breath to curb the intensity in her voice. "It's a fool's errand to care for them, Drake. Loving them. . .even worse. They will fade away into time and when all those that knew them have passed on as well. . .they will be forgotten. Even we will forget, eventually. It was never our place to. . .to get involved in affairs of the heart."

"It may have not been our place, Melisande, but it was when we were given a heart that those decrees no longer remained within this realm," he reminded her, stepping forward as he saw the flashes of fire, blue and melancholy, blaze within her eyes.

Sighing, he walked to the window in her quarters, arms crossed over his chest as he looked out into the night. So long ago, it seemed, he had given his heart to a mortal, and even now, as she laid with another, she still held his pulsing heart within the palm of her hand. Every wish, every whim, and he would grant it, consequences be damned. He had left her, only because she asked and it had not been in his will to deny her. Running a hand back through his hair before crossing his arms over his chest once more, Drake surveyed the rolling hills of the land of the Avatars and then closed his eyes.

"You and I are stronger than any mortal that will ever walk this earth, Melisande, but nothing is stronger than love. Run from it. Hide from it...Curse Aphrodite's name and steal Cupid's quiver, but so long as you possess your mortal body, you will succumb to mortal love. Deny it and you will turn into the bitter cynic." Opening his eyes, electric blue orbs blazing with passionate truth, he was the bitter cynic that stood before her now. Love had come and love had left him, all for the name of science and honor and justice...And fear.

Melisande watched him closely as he turned his back on her, walking with his usual grace and poise to the wide window in her quarters. Although something hinted at a emotion below the placid surface of calm, the set of his shoulders and the hesitance in his tone that was not usually present. Blazing blue eyes settled down and so did her nerves, her anger at having been caught so open to him beginning to die away slowly with each passing second. Emotions. . .they were a twisted and complex thing, something that she had experienced for centuries and still had trouble dealing with from time to time.

"Wise words from a tongue that seems to know all too well," she said finally, placing a hand on her hip. "Mortal bodies. . .immortal souls. . .tell me, Drake, how does that play out in your little delusion? Fall in love with those destined to fade into ash and inevitably you resign yourself to an eternity of loss and regret. . .decades and centuries are two very different things."

She moved forward toward him, the moonlight backwashing through the window and highlighting the golden tresses of hair that crowned his distinct features, blue eyes flashing in the dark of the room. She seemed to forget, for a moment, that she had been intent on distancing herself even from the likes of him as she stopped just short of him, tilting her head to regard the Dreamwalker. It wasn't an argument she was seeking, but the means to understand his rational. . .though human for quite some time she had managed to remain removed from it all if only barely, having pushed herself away from Dorian before her heart could be completely ensnared and a century had passed between then and now. . .had she found freedom or an illusion?

A sigh left his lips as he looked down to the Fire Elemental before him. Blue eyes blazing, he tilted his head as he took her in, the lavendar tint of the sunglasses he religiously wore doing little the dim the sparks that rushed through each and every time a memory swam to the surface of the thoughts that breeched his mind.

Drake gave a slight shake of his head and looked away for a moment, considering her thoughts before returning his eyes to her again. "Perhaps, Melisande...Perhaps I've resigned myself to pain and regret and loss, but at least in those moments when I feel such things, I know that I am alive...And when those moments dim and happiness and fulfillment creeps in, for however short a time, I know the true meaning of contentment, because loss has taught me so."

He stepped closer, then sidestepped around her, the sleeve of the coat he wore brushing against her arm as he moved to stand behind her, hands folded behind his back, his shoulders squared, his chin lifted, just as it had always been doing his days of aristocracy and pride..."Our immortal souls will preserve our mortal bodies...but they will not tame the wild heart that beats within us all..."

Turning on his heel, he moved up behind her, and bent his head, lips by her ear as he spoke, his voice quietened to the subtle whisper that only a Dreamwalker could seemingly project. "Tell me, Melisande...Have you lived?"

Perhaps one of the few that could truly understand her standpoint on feelings and emotions, she had managed to speak only rarely to Drake and then not for very long. Never before had she been in a darkened room with him for this long and never before had their conversations gone this deep. Standing mere inches away, her posture nearly rigid and her eyes on the faint edges of blazing again, Melisande considered his words and his way of thinking.

Truly she had run from emotion for the fears she had already voiced and yet. . .She kept her back to him steadily as he moved around her then managed not to jump a foot into the air as his whispered words right near her ear seemed to slide directly into her brain, demanding introspection and an answer. Her back straightened from the unexpected shock of him being that near and then she relaxed, taking one step away from him before turning around to face him.

"Probably not," she allowed. "At least not in the last century. . .prior to that. . .I did. For a short time. An eyeblink in our lifetimes. What is your point, Dreamwalker? Trade sanity for a moment of passion, a second of fleetingness? I've done that. And here is where I stand because of it."

For every step away that she took, he moved forward, and even now, he stepped up to her, never fearing the Fire Avatar that he knew would never harm him...could never harm him.

As she spoke of passion and fleeting contentment, he raised a brow, a hand lifting to the turtleneck she wore, a faint bruise rising just above the edge of the collar. He had heard the tales of her moments over the centuries with a certain vampire of damnable degree and....As he pulled down the collar, boldly, his eyes narrowed, the marks left by the vile creature covering the fair skin of her neck.

"A recent event, I see," he told her, his hand dropping to her shoulder and holding her with an iron grip. "You say you cannot give into passion, and yet these marks are fresh...Cael."

Somewhere between seething and disappointed, Drake stared her down, blue eyes blazing with hatred for the creature that had so marked such a legend. "Answer me this, Melisande," he said, losing some eloquence as anger struck. "Have you lost your damned mind?"

A part of her knew that being with Dorian was. . .well, it was not exactly the most healthy relationship and yet whenever the vampire came around it was as though she lost control and, yes, her mind. At one time she had been in danger of loving him and so she had walked away with all haste, leaving him for a century until he had finally caught up with her again. Last night. . .And it was as though that century had never passed other than the fact that she knew she did not love him. Rather. . .well, saying no to him was not in her power when he was standing right over her.

Melisande didn't have time to jerk away from the hand that revealed just one of the far too many bite marks on her flesh and she looked down at the hand that landed on her shoulder. Her teeth clenched for a moment before she managed to jerk away, blue fire blazing in her eyes at his boldness. With whom she chose to sleep was hardly any of his concern even if she knew that he was right in the back of her mind. Still. . .It was not passion but lust and that was. . .okay, so perhaps it was passion or an intoxicating drug or some other nonsense.

"The condition of my mind, Drake, is not any of your concern," she shot back. "And yes. Cael. I do not see where you get off being angry over my. . .liasons."

Ah, but that was where she was wrong. It was his concern, if only because he fought to damned hard to maintain some semblance of a balance between the forces of light and dark in an already tilted and tainted world. His eyes darkened as he stared at her, watching with sardonic amusement as she wrenched her shoulder from his grip. For all her strength, she could not overpower him, and yet, she thought she had the power to go up against God himself. Damned fire elementals...

Jaw clenching, he shook his head, and then let out a mirthless laugh before his hands took her shoulders again, this time shoving her back until she met with the wall beyond them. "Melisande, will you ever learn?" he hissed, staring down into her eyes, his body nearly pressed agianst her own. "This world is not your playground, but a place to be kept safe and sacred. We struggle to maintain a balance, order, and while you might be the most mercurial of all the damned beings on this godforsaken plane, that does not put you above the rules, the cosmic design!" Grabbing her by the chin, he tipped her head back to stare into her eyes, blue like the hottest of flames. "You toy with darkness and expect to walk away untainted? How will you lead those that fight for good if you cannot even stand firmly on that ground yourself?"

He had heard enough and no answer she gave would matter. His mind had been made up...He would wash Dorian Cael from her mind once and for all...And then, he would rid the world of the bastard.

And there it was with the balance again. . .she nearly sighed but refrained. She didn't know how he expected that they were supposed to care for those around them and maintain the balance. . .in Melisande's mind maintaining the balance was easier done without entanglements and attachments and yet that way of life did not seem to be working out either. The more she tried to remain distant the harder it became and now that Dorian had popped back into her life from the shadows. . .

Steel hands gripped her shoulders and Melisande gasped as he drove her back into the wall. A minor struggle as she tried to twist from his grasp but that did no good as he was stronger than her and with her back flush to the wall she did not have the best vantage point. One burning hand came up and closed over his wrist although the touch did not harm him and she found herself trapped by his angry gaze, his hand holding her chin to face him. Teeth set and clenched although the darkened anger reflected in his own blue eyes was by far stronger than the anger she felt at being manhandled. . .and on a much deeper level she found herself staring at him for an entirely different reason. She had never really noticed how attractive he was before. . .she cut that thought off sharply.

"Dammit Drake. . .let go of me!" she hissed back, shifting against the wall. "My liasons with Dorian have no bearing on my duties maintaining the balance. . .you allow your heart to get all tangled up by mortals. I do not see where you find the legs to stand on your pedestal."

He stared down at her, jaw clenching as she mentioned the one mortal who had managed to steal his heart and though she did not know it, the woman still held it within the palm of her hand.

Though he did not look away, he wanted so badly to turn from her and close back in himself. She was right; he had failed such a short time ago, but he had seen it, dealt with it, and he had been left because of it. The alliance between the Mendecants and Dreamwalkers had torn he and Raelin apart, giving them both new purpose and far greater boundaries that they could not cross.

Pushing her back into the wall, stilling all further movements, he bent his head, still looking directly into her eyes, seeing into the heart of her as all Dreamwalkers could do..."And do you see me with that mortal now? Do you see me stand by her side? She cast me aside. I fled from her and no reunion will ever exist. I am a harbinger of death for her..." The words were like ice falling from his lips, anger and bitter resentment etched into every word as he found Melisande's hands, binding her wrists with his own haughty display of magic learned from days gone by. "I am alone and love will not be found for me...Never again. Tangled with mortals, no more...And at least then, I knew where my loyalty remained."

Jerking her from the wall, he pushed her ahead of him, still having no answer for the majority of her questions...At least, no answers he wished to give. He found the legs to stand firm and judge her because he had been force to lose the one he loved above all else to grant her wishes...and to better the world. Balance...always comes at a cost. "You will forget Dorian Cael..."

She would not have even ventured to guess at his intentions until she felt the magic bind her wrists tightly and the venom in his words hit her hard. It was not venom aimed at her but it nearly made her flinch all the same, the sheer level of angry bitterness biting at her. The mortal that he had fallen for was still deeply ingrained in his heart and yet he denied his own happiness for the sake of. . .what? If his love was so true than she did not comprehend why he could not be with the one that so owned his heart. He claimed that he was a harbinger of death for her. . .

"You cannot hope to get away with this, Drake," she spat even as he pushed her forward and yet she knew that he did and that, most likely, he would. "This is your solution? Amateur kidnapping? Have you lost your mind?"

Struggling against him was a futile gesture and even so she was stubborn enough to do just that, digging her heels into the carpet and pushing back to attempt to break the grip that he held. Her wrists might have been bound but she had no intention of making it easy on him if she could help it. Who did he think he was? She could see, partially, where he thought he was helping and in the back of her mind where she would never, ever admit it she knew that she did need help. . .although this seemed a bit extremist. But she had never tested the limits of Drake's patience nor had she ever been around him alone long enough to truly know what he was capable of and to what extremes he would willingly go. For all she knew such an act was perfectly normal for him.

"As you seem to have forgotten your sanity. . .Drake Morpheus, by the Gods. . .release me! There is nothing standing in the way of me and my duties other than you and, perhaps, your ego at the moment."

It was foolish of her to struggle and for all her protests, it only strengthened his resolve. Taking her by the shoulders and standing behind her, Drake used all the strength he possessed to push her forward, from her room and down the silent marble hallways.

Drake had known all too well that this issue with Dorian would spiral out of control, and as he heard her testimonies of utter denial, he knew that he had been right. She saw no waves before her in this unspoken pact with the vampire, and of course, she never would. She would only see what she wanted to see behind lidded eyes...but he would open her eyes, offer her clarity where she clearly had none.

Shoving her again, but making sure that she never lost her balance and never fell to the ground, Drake stared at her and clenched his teeth once more. "All the resistance in the world will not help you, Melisande," he told her slowly, and still,m within his words, the anger, the resentment, it remained...Cold as ice.

The halls of the Avatar Alcove were dead silent this late into the night and she could only wonder how the others would react if awoken at this hour. Surely the sight before them would be enough to raise a few eyebrows although Melisande knew well enough that none of her Avatar compatriots held enough power to stop Drake if his mind was that set in stone. And it seemingly was. He was a man hellbent on a mission that only he could fully understood and while she could understand some of it, the reasoning behind it, she could not help but wonder just what he hoped to accomplish by such a rash action.

She hissed in a breath as his hands landed on her shoulders and he pushed her forward. He did not realize it but his fingers were digging painfully into bite wounds from Dorian. He had seen only the one. . .she almost feared for him to see the rest and so she tried to ignore the pain but it became a bit too much. During the act of sex the bites were. . .painful but not to the degree that they became when all was said and done. It was in those moments, usually, when the pain in the wounds was sharp and real, that she thought to wonder about her sanity. It was in those moments where she was able to hate herself the most for being so weak and now the pain was sharp and real, and making her want to very nearly cry from the force of it.

"Ahh. . .Drake! Get your hands off me. . .you're hurting me! Granted, it's my fault it hurts in the first damn place but you don't have to make it worse. . ." she jerked her shoulders from him and turned, facing him and breathing hard, pain shining in her blazing blue eyes. It occurred to her that he might have no clue as to what was hurting her but he was a rather sharp tack. She knew that he would figure it out or else lift her shirt and find out. . .she did not put such an action past him and the thought of him discovering the sheer number of times that Dorian had marked her was enough to make her take a step away from him.

"Hurting you?" he questioned, taking a step back as she spun around on him. It was amusing, at best, to see her reaction to such truthful accusations...And he knew another truth of why his actions had pained her so. "And you act as though I should care?"

Reaching out, a hand clasped around her waist as he drug her frame into his with ease, picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder. He had tried his best to act in a dignified manner, as best as the situation would allow, but she had left him no choice...

Carrying her over his shoulder, her weight nothing to him as he strolled down the halls of the Alcove, Drake wondered just what he would have to endure before he took to the skies through astral levitation and carried her to a more fitting setting for such a detoxification...Damnable vampires.