The rain had stopped by the time Dietrich and Zeph reached Piha, but the sky was still a dull and dreary color. The waves crashing against the shore were all full of determined surfers taking advantage of the conditions to train and practice for the upcoming event, and Zeph looked like he wanted to join them.

First, of course, they needed to land. Dietrich was desperate to land, as sitting on a broomstick for the last few hours hadn't been a pleasant experience. He was quite sore, and still had no idea how warlocks had been able to do this on a regular basis for the last few hundred years. When they finally landed, Dietrich was slow in getting off the broom. He paced stiffly, wincing at the pain searing through his legs and hips. If there was ever a time I felt old…

"Come on, mate, the contest signup is at the surf shop," Zeph said.

"Give me a second, Zeph." Dietrich made an effort to follow the younger man in spite of his aches and pains. He put the hood of his cloak back up when he felt more rain come drizzling down, and tried to walk a little faster.

Zeph had quickly untied his surfboard from his broom, and handed the broom to Dietrich. "Can you hold this, please? Thanks."

"It is still only Thursday. We do not have to rush."

"There's only so much space at the beach. I want a good spot."

Dietrich sighed. "Fine. You lead."

The surf shop was packed from floor to ceiling in boards of varying sizes and colors. It was also packed with people, smelled heavily of the sea, surf wax, and years of quick fish and chip lunches from the employees, and music was playing on several radios throughout the shop. Dietrich did his best to stay close to Zeph, then heard a man call out, "Hey, no brooms or bicycles in the shop."

"My apologies," Dietrich said. He looked at Zeph. "I will be outside."

"Okay."

"We will find a place to stay over the next few days. No more camping with nothing but your surfboard over your head."

Zeph sighed. "Fine. I'll meet you outside in a few minutes."

Dietrich turned and left the shop. He was glad to be out of there, as it was much too crowded for his liking. The path leading between the beach and the shop was busy, and the last thing Dietrich wanted was to be in the way. He found himself missing the quiet of Sunset Beach. Perhaps there were some hours of the day when Piha wasn't so packed, but that had to be a stroke of luck. Zeph had mentioned several times that this was one of the best surf spots in the North Island. It made sense there were a lot of people, but it wasn't something Dietrich would ever enjoy. He sat under a tree by the edge of the path, Zeph's broom in his lap, watching people pass by and going completely unnoticed by them.

Zeph left the shop a few minutes later, as he said. He didn't look nearly as happy as Dietrich expected him to. "Well, this is it. I'm signed up. Now I really can't lose. You see Dryden around, mate?"

"No," Dietrich said. "Even if I did, why should it matter? I told you before, his misery should have no bearing on you."

"And I said that's easier said than done."

"You did."

"Not sure there's time to learn something that'll really impress the judges. I'll do my best, though. Hopefully."

"The more you doubt yourself, the more likely it is you will fail."

"I don't think just saying and thinking, 'I can win' will do much of anything. That's not the type of thing that'll give me confidence."

"Then we will find what will give you confidence."

Zeph gave Dietrich a quizzical look. "You're a 'glass half-full' type of guy, aren't you?"

Dietrich grinned. "If the glass is half-full, then it is also half-empty."

"Or you're just weird."

"Perhaps. Am I weird, or are you being obstinate?"

"Maybe it's both."

"Just like the glass."

"Then you admit you're weird, then."

"Maybe." Dietrich stood. "Right. Let us go find a place to stay for the night."

"Right now? I kinda want to go out to the beach and get some—"

"No. Not yet. Come on. I would rather not be carrying around all of our luggage for the next few hours."

There weren't any hotels around like the ones in larger cities, but rather smaller, more home-like places available to rent for a time. Many of the beach homes, or bachs, which Zeph said was the Kiwi term for them, were already taken up by surfers and their friends and families. They did manage to find one situated near the base of the forested hills along the edge of the Waitākere Ranges. It was small, even smaller than Lysander's home, but had basic amenities. Basic was really all they needed, as they wouldn't be staying inside for long periods of time aside from sleeping. It had one bedroom and a couch able to be unfolded into a bed, which Zeph set his backpack on.

"Ah—nope." Dietrich pointed to the bedroom. "You sleep in there."

"Why?" Zeph sighed.

"Because you have not slept in a bed in two years."

"Why does that matter?"

"Because I can say from personal experience that depriving yourself of simple things like that is not going to help you. Do you want to win this or not?"

"I don't see how sleeping in a bed is going to help."

"Maybe you should try it and see how you like it."

Zeph picked up his backpack and disappeared into the bedroom without another word, leaving Dietrich to claim the foldout bed. About two minutes passed when Zeph left the room, took his surfboard from its place against the wall, and opened the front door.

"Where are you going?" Dietrich asked.

Zeph gave him an incredulous look. "Where do you think I'm going? Didn't you see the waves on the beach when we were coming in? I'm not wasting this."

"Zeph, it is far past lunchtime."

"Then you can go eat. I'll see you later." Zeph held out his wand. "Hold onto this, please."

Dietrich took the wand. He wasn't sure this was a battle he wanted to wage. He felt like he had annoyed Zeph enough, so he stayed quiet while the young warlock left. He did let out a heavy sigh once Zeph was heading down the winding path back to the beach. "Patience," Dietrich said aloud. "Have patience." He put his hood back up, made sure he had everything he needed, and went outside. He was looking forward to seeing what Piha looked like in the sunlight. The wind and rain combined with the constant salty mist of the sea made everything feel like a British seaside village that rarely saw the sun.

His memories of growing up in Kiel were sparse, but the spray of the ocean was one thing he remembered clearly. He remembered the old ports full of ships, trains entering and leaving the city loaded with cargo from the ships, and the ever-present smell of the sea. A particularly distinct memory was that of looking up while fat snowflakes fell. There were chunks of ice floating in the harbors. It was bitterly cold, but lovely. He remembered his child self wanting to play in the snow in the park near home, and he remembered the excruciatingly painful scrapes that adorned his cheeks when his brothers' rough "play" resulted in him falling and striking the pavement.

Dietrich found a secluded spot on a hill above the beach where he could easily see Zeph. He sat on a flat rock under a tree, thinking about the long and convoluted road that lay between his childhood in Kiel to now. His own simple desires when he was little were very rarely granted. Then again, his own needs were just barely met most of the time. It was a wonder that he was even still around. Well, I did have a prophecy to fulfill, and an important role to play in other people's lives. People from places I knew nothing about when I was admiring snow in Kiel. He scanned the beach for a moment, seeing Zeph walking out into the water. Even from as far away as here.

He noticed Zeph had been alone each time his ride on a wave ended. The others were more chatty with each other, while Zeph was intensely focused. Dietrich decided to observe him for a few more minutes before going down to the beach to see what was available in terms of food, and took advantage of not having to hide from Silas anymore to have a cigarette. He took his time, enjoying the quiet of this little spot. When he finished his cigarette, he stood and continued on his walk down to the beach, hoping he didn't have to make Zeph stop like the day before. He was the only person on the beach apart from the surfers, and waited near where Zeph was out weaving along a wave. A part of Dietrich felt bad that he didn't know a thing about surfing. How was he to know if Zeph was good or bad? He certainly looked like he knew what he was doing, but was that enough for Dietrich to judge? Am I really the right person to help him? Moffitt seems to think I am. So does Jules. If I let down Zeph, I am letting down Moffitt and Jules as well. Dietrich gave a quiet sigh. Zeph opened up to me about his mental state two years ago. Letting him down could steer him toward that dark path again. I will not let that happen.

Zeph's voice pulled Dietrich from his thoughts. "Have you come to lecture me again?"

Dietrich blinked and saw Zeph standing in front of him. The younger man's auburn hair was glued to his head with water, and his chest was heaving from the exercise he just put himself through. "No, I am not going to lecture you," Dietrich replied.

"Honestly, I'm… exhausted. It just hit me right now."

"I have not had lunch yet, so we can find something together, if you want."

Zeph nodded. "Sure. We can do that." He adjusted his grip on his board, then gestured to Dietrich. "I know a couple of good places. Come on."

Most of the eateries in Piha were quite small, but offered a wide range of options. Of course, with the upcoming event, every location was populated by surfers, even the least busy one they eventually chose. Dietrich couldn't help noticing that he was probably the only person wearing boots, while everyone else was in sandals, or no footwear at all. Overall, it seemed very relaxed.

"Is everyone here for the competition?" Dietrich asked, glancing over at the crowded counter when he and Zeph sat down.

"Yes and no," Zeph replied. "Most people are here to surf on their own, and to watch the competition. There'll be three rounds total, and not many people are going to make it past the first one. The second is another elimination round, more harsh than the first, and the third is finals. Only five people are going to get to move on to finals."

"Ah. Well, you are the expert here, not me. I was thinking earlier about how I do not feel adequate to help you given that I have very little knowledge of this sport."

"It's all good, mate. I knew that when you arrived, you probably didn't know much of anything about surfing. That, and, just looking at you, I can tell you… aren't into this sort of thing."

Dietrich smirked. "And what do you think I am into?"

"You did tell me you play chess, which didn't surprise me at all. I imagine you're good at games like bridge or poker."

"Bridge, yes. Poker, I have never played. Moffitt is quite good at bridge as well. We partnered together on several games and we have a tendency to wipe the floor with our opponents."

"That doesn't surprise me. He is smart, even if he's a bit high-strung."

"With Moffitt, there is a bit of a learning curve when it comes to figuring out what actually does unwind him, and what just winds him up tighter."

"Lysander's better at stuff like that than I am."

"That does not mean you cannot try. One day, you may be faced with a situation where you must help manage someone else's stress, and the person you feel is better suited is unavailable. You will have to do something."

"Of course I'll try, and hope it works."

"Trying is better than doing nothing." Dietrich looked out the window, noticing the wind beginning to pick up, and people gradually leaving the beach. "I suppose we should head back to our room when we are finished here."

"I guess."

A slight chill shot up Dietrich's spine. He looked over his shoulder to see the still-bruised face of Dryden marching determinedly toward their table.

"What do you want?" Zeph asked.

"Just letting you know that I'm not going to have a problem wiping the beach with you on Saturday. If you don't get yourself killed hitting the rocks. Tough talk is all you're made of, Ainsley," Dryden said, sticking his finger in Zeph's face. "You're an embarrassment to surfing. You took two proper lessons when you were ten and now you think you can compete just because you go do whatever you want, with no instruction, out at Sunset? You don't know anything about what it takes to win and become professional. Besides, what do you know about professional? You dropped out of school."

"Are you going to say something even remotely helpful?" Dietrich asked.

"You." Dryden turned to Dietrich next. "Don't let me catch you out on the beach alone. I ought to knock you on your ass for what you did."

"What, for knocking you on your ass?" Dietrich grinned a little. "I find revenge to be rather tasteless. Petty revenge even more so." His grin faded. "I would rather not have a physical confrontation in a crowded establishment. Go on. Mind your own business. Settle your differences with Zeph at the competition."

Part of Dietrich expected Dryden to stick around and try goading him into fighting. Even if he did, Dietrich had the patience and strength to not react unless it looked like he or anyone else was about to get seriously injured. Instead, Dryden walked away, muttering curses under his breath.

"Are you… not at all worried about him hurting you?" Zeph asked.

"No, not really," Dietrich replied. "It would not be my first time getting into a fight with anyone."

"You certainly looked like you knew what you were doing when you knocked him down a couple days ago."

"That was because I did, for two reasons. One, I had to learn very quickly how to defend myself while growing up, because of how aggressive my brothers were. Where they had brute strength, I had speed and agility. Two, I may be an officer, but I have learned a lot watching the enlisted men under me train in hand-to-hand combat. Dryden strikes me as the type who relies on brute strength. Am I wrong?"

"No. He's not a very… graceful fighter."

"No surprise there. However, one must not underestimate the capabilities of someone whose fighting style relies on brute strength. Troy is the same way, and getting into a fight with him is a very poor decision."

"Wasn't he also trained when he enlisted? Well, that's a dumb question—"

"Yes, so he has that in his favor."

"And Dryden isn't, so you should have no problem."

"I would assume so, but there is a fine line between confidence and cockiness. Cockiness is what we want to avoid."

Zeph nodded in agreement.

"That also goes for surfing."

"You already know I'm not cocky."

"Yes, and while we need to work on your confidence, take comfort in this—the cocky surfers quite likely will not win."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because such traits never play to one's advantage. They make it quite easy to find weaknesses that another competitor can exploit."

"I would say Dryden is cocky. He's no kook, though. He is good at surfing." Zeph trailed off, looking down at the table.

Dietrich took a drink from his glass of water before looking at Zeph. "There is more to this, I sense."

"Maybe. I'll tell you later."

"Fine." Dietrich figured not pushing would allow Zeph to open up later. For now, he enjoyed his lunch.

The rain was coming down harder as the two trudged up the hill back to the little house they would be staying in. Dietrich wrung as much of his cloak as he could before spreading it out to dry. It was a Christmas gift that Anah had made, and the last thing he wanted was to get it ruined, despite her saying that she made it for everyday use. After taking his boots off and setting them on a tray between the door and the coatrack, Dietrich looked at Zeph, who was sitting on the couch with a look of shame on his face. "Alright. Are you comfortable discussing things with me now?" Dietrich asked.

Zeph nodded. "I figured it'd be better not discussed in public, but I'll keep it short. I used to be on good terms with Dryden. I guess you could say we were friends. He did teach me a bit of surfing, and I… wasn't very appreciative, especially in later years when things started getting bad between me and my parents. I kept getting into arguments with Dryden about what it was going to take to become professional. He kept telling me it wasn't going to happen overnight, or with one contest. It was going to take a lot of effort, and I… I was so desperate for a quick solution that things got out of control. We snapped at each other, escalated to fighting, Lysander broke it up, and that was it. Neither of us have handled it well, as you've already seen."

"Was he unaware of what was going on between you and your parents?"

"I didn't say a bloody word to him."

"Could that have changed his attitude toward you?"

"It would've explained things, and… made me look like less of an ass."

Dietrich bit his lip, and sighed. "Can I just say how mind-numbingly stupid that was?"

"Join the party. Lysander said the same thing."

"You chose—consciously chose—to say nothing about your predicament to someone who probably could have helped you. I will repeat your words to you: 'I guess you could say we were friends.' I cannot imagine hiding something that serious from one of my own friends. I would never dream of it, because it screams that I do not trust them. That was what you did back then. Now, you are in this rivalry with Dryden over a lack of communication. What you did was imbecilic, idiotic, moronic, spineless, selfish, and perhaps even some words that I refuse to use in polite conversation."

Zeph looked like he wanted to sink into the couch. "I get it, Dietrich. You don't have to say anymore. I already know."

Dietrich wondered if he had gone too far with what he said. He was frustrated enough to want to quit, but knew that wouldn't do any good. Zeph clearly needs someone with copious amounts of patience, but he also needs someone with the ability to forgive. He put his hands on his hips, slowly pacing around the room. "To say that you brought this on yourself would be unnecessarily cruel."

"You think I don't tell myself that regularly?" Zeph sighed. "I didn't mention any of this to Jules and his dad because I thought they wouldn't want to help me anymore."

"That is not true in the slightest. I understand not wanting to be vulnerable, especially about the things you did wrong, but sometimes being vulnerable is what comes with wanting someone to help you."

Silence fell between them for a little while. Dietrich tried to think what the best thing to say next was, but Zeph spoke up first, in a quiet voice. "You've been really frustrated with me, haven't you?"

"Honestly? A little. To be fair, you did not know me until a few days ago. You did show an impressive amount of trust for just meeting me, and I was prepared for this to be a lot more difficult."

"Well, I trust Jules. He bloody forgave me for almost punching him in the face. Can't get much better than that. He and his dad said you were the best when it came to guiding people, so I was willing to give you a chance."

Dietrich sighed. "Do you want to know a secret, Zeph?"

"Sure."

"I think they all give me far too much credit."

That prompted Zeph to smile. "You haven't given up on me yet, and I've been difficult."

"Oh, no, no, no, Zeph, you have not been the most difficult thing I have ever dealt with. That honor goes to Troy and he is damn proud of it."

"So, you're not going to give up."

"On you? No. Especially not with what you told me about where your mind was after you were kicked out of your previous home. I said this twenty-one years ago, after my attempted suicide, that I would never let something like that happen to anyone else I knew. I refuse to push you down that path."

"You won't quit no matter how hard it gets."

"Exactly, but I cannot do all this on my own. What good is my help if you continue to act like you are not worthy of it, or that it is too difficult? Starting tomorrow, this is going to get harder."

"What about your hypnosis idea?"

"We will get to that. Tomorrow, you are going to be learning patience, because heaven knows you need it."

The weather had cleared up late into the night. Dietrich awoke early in the morning to hear crickets chirping and water dripping onto the roof from tree leaves. He glanced around, somewhat confused as to where he was, then remembered that they had arrived in Piha the day before. Of course this place didn't look familiar.

Dietrich lay awake, still wondering if he had been too harsh with Zeph yesterday. He tried to dismiss it, feeling that he had said what needed to be said. Zeph really needed to work on his own flaws. At least he acknowledged them. At least he felt guilty about them. But, he was stuck in bad habits that he needed to break, and Dietrich was at a loss of how to help him break them. He got up to get a drink of water, and paused near the doorway to the bedroom. He saw that Zeph was sleeping soundly, looking comfortable in the bed. It pained Dietrich to think this was Zeph's first time sleeping in a real bed in two years. He should not have to be dealing with this, Dietrich thought. He went back into the kitchen, finishing his water, and returned to the couch to resume sleeping.

Dietrich struggled a bit to fall back asleep, but awoke again a little while later to hear the refrigerator opening and closing, followed by Zeph cursing. Dietrich became aware of bright sunlight spilling in through the windows. He stretched and slowly sat up, hoping that the slower he went, the less of a headache he would develop.

"Good morning," Zeph said. "I forgot we have no food and no coffee. Damn it. It's still early and there's no one at the beach. I want to get some practice in."

"No. We are not doing that today," Dietrich muttered.

"Why? Mate, the contest is tomorrow! I have to practice!"

"You will be able to practice at some point today."

"No! The beach is going to be packed before long!"

"Maybe. Can I wake up before we start arguing?"

Zeph sighed. "I'd rather not argue."

"Do you remember what we were talking about yesterday? About how you need to learn patience?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Your lessons start now."

Zeph looked like he wanted to argue. He gave another sigh, looked up at the ceiling, and finally hung his head. "Alright. Let me guess, lesson one is not going to the beach when I want?"

"Pretty much." Dietrich got off the couch. "We will have breakfast—and most importantly, coffee—but then we will be taking a long walk."

"Okay." Zeph went into the bedroom to get a shirt and change into cargo shorts. He emerged a minute later putting his wand through a loop by his belt. "Do you need help, mate?"

"Why?" Dietrich asked.

"Because you're leaning against the counter, looking like you're ready to go back to bed, when you said we're getting breakfast and coffee."

Dietrich looked down at the counter. "Oh. Yes, I am… not awake and I have no desire to be out in public in this condition."

"Do you want me to go get coffee so you can be functional?"

"No. I have done worse. The only thing worse than no coffee is the sandy coffee I had in North Africa. When someone tells you that everything would get covered in sand, believe them."

"Oh, I believe them," Zeph said. "One of the stories Gabriel told me before I was pulled away was about just how different North Africa was to New Zealand. It can get really hot here in the summertime, but at least we get rain a bit more regularly. Sand, bugs, and snakes were a bigger problem—no offense to Jules's old man and his thing with snakes."

"Give me snakes over insects any day. They are much easier to move out of camp, and there are typically only one or two, unless a gravid sand viper moves in and suddenly there are twenty or so baby vipers roaming around."

"I'm guessing you're speaking from experience?"

Dietrich nodded. "And I actually sought out the Rat Patrol to ask Moffitt to remove all the snakes, because I did not want to hurt them, nor did I want to put my men at risk of being bitten. The look on Troy's face over this whole thing was priceless. By then, it had not been the first time either of us had asked the other for a rather unconventional truce."

"How did neither of you get in trouble over stuff like that?"

Dietrich smirked. "By not saying anything to our superiors."

"You weren't worried about your own men saying anything?"

"Most of them were in agreement that making a truce with the Rats was better than fighting them. It meant they would live another day." Dietrich snorted. "I also remember we were treated to the delightful sight of Moffitt picking up baby snakes and carrying them around in his arms. It was like an Easter egg hunt without the basket. He even took mama viper as well, releasing the whole family somewhere far away from either my lines or the Allies'."

"That had to be the scariest sight in the world for anyone who didn't know anything about his abilities. Just a man with an armful of snakes."

"I imagine it was, but I was glad we were able to deal with that situation without anyone getting hurt, including the animals." Dietrich drew in a breath. "Now, if it had been spiders, I would have evacuated all of my men and asked Troy to destroy everything."

Zeph smirked. "Afraid of spiders?"

"Very."

"Well, unfortunately, New Zealand does have spiders."

Dietrich shuddered. "Wonderful. I was looking forward to taking a long walk around here."

"Hey, a lot of people take walks through the bush with no problems. Yes, we have one dangerously venomous spider that does live in these parts, but I'll point it out if we see it, and I know how to make an antidote."

"Zeph, stop talking."

"What? I'm telling you that everything would be okay if you were to be bitten by this thing—"

"I do not want to hear anything more about spiders for the rest of my life, thank you very much." Dietrich noticed he was still leaning against the counter, and let out a sigh before disappearing into the bathroom to get changed into regular clothes. He sat on the couch to put his boots on, and didn't notice Zeph sitting next to him. He jumped and frantically looked around when he felt something crawling up the back of his neck, and glared at Zeph when he heard giggling.

"It was just my hand, mate," Zeph said.

Dietrich maintained his glare. "Not funny. Stop laughing. I will make your lessons harder if you do that again."

"Sorry."

Dietrich didn't believe him, based on the trace of laughter in Zeph's voice, but he was glad that the younger man was in a better mood than the previous day. He decided not to say anything about what he had planned until he had some coffee in his system. He had come to enjoy the coffee at Lysander's, but he was grateful that the coffee in the small beachside café was just as good, and quite strong.

"So, your first plan is just to tramp around the bush with me," Zeph said.

"Pretty much," Dietrich replied. "Like I was saying last night, you need to learn patience, and you need to learn self-control, both in terms of not immediately snapping at someone who makes you angry, and in terms of putting more thought into what you want to say to someone, so we can avoid situations similar to what happened between you and Dryden."

Zeph looked down at his food for a moment before glancing at Dietrich with a disappointed expression. "You're not going to tell me to try making amends with him, are you?"

"No." Dietrich took a sip of his coffee.

"Well, good. I'm not ready, and I think it's too late for that."

Dietrich allowed himself to smile the next time he brought his mug to his lips. Oh, we shall see. He knew it would be quite risky, but he was going to find a way to talk to Dryden. If Markus and I could make amends, I do not see why Zeph and Dryden cannot. That is, unless they refuse to. Zeph needs someone knowledgeable about surfing to help him achieve what he wants, and I am not that. As much as Dietrich didn't want to keep this hidden from Zeph, he felt it would be better to attempt talking to Dryden without Zeph's knowledge. At the same time, he wondered if he was making a big mistake.