Tristan's goal was overall pretty simple. He'd go and check out medieval Japan, see what all was of interest, and avoid any buckets of biohazards. If anyone asked about the strange attire or commented on him clearly being a foreigner, he'd simply respond that he was a traveling mercenary seeking employment. He didn't really know for certain that it would work, or even if he'd find something that would make the trip worthwhile, but he was willing to give it a shot. At worst, he'd have to magic his way out of a tough situation, but he'd still be able to see some pre-Industrial landscapes.

Learning from his past mistakes, Tristan decided to get out of the city as quickly as possible. Even if it was Kyoto like he'd been told, which would mean he'd feel obligated to take a look around eventually, he simply wasn't in the mood for it at the moment. He passed through the shadows, quickly making a getaway out to the open countryside. Honestly, he was slightly underwhelmed by it. Sure, it was beautiful, but it wasn't breathtaking or anything. He blamed Hollywood over-romanticizing everything it could. It was still worth exploring a bit, though, he supposed. Maybe he'd find a souvenir of simpler times or something.

Instead, he ended up wandering for who even knew how long, using his powers to move around more quickly towards a distant mountain range. It was the only landmark in the direction he'd picked at random, and he had been determined to get there before turning back. Now that he was approaching it, though, he wondered if it was at all worth it. A nice, relaxing stroll was one thing, but traversing a foreign countryside on a whim was a whole other story. If it wasn't for the smoke he saw starting to rise as he got closer, he probably would've decided he had gotten close enough and that it was time to head back.

Tristan had seen enough campfires to know that they had the potential to put off a lot of smoke, but nothing like what he was seeing now. For a brief moment, he actually considered what he was about to be getting himself into. He was in feudal Japan, just a few years before a major warring period was scheduled, if he was remembering correctly. Magic had probably jumpstarted a number of conflicts within this universe; it probably wasn't a stretch to imagine that Japan was already embroiled in its bitter civil war. If that was a village burning, affecting the timeline be damned - he could do something about that. He quickly sank into his own shadow, going as far as he could manage as quickly as he could.

When he arrived at the scene of the crime, he was honestly relieved to find that he wasn't staring down a burning village. A burning forest was tragic in its own right, but it wasn't people and he didn't have to worry about screwing up the timeline too much by interfering. A battalion of shadows arose from the ground, all exactly the same shape and size as Tristan. And then he noticed that some of the fire was moving rapidly in his direction. In the shape of a person.

His first thought was that there actually was a village, it was just tucked away into the forest. Then his mind registered that the burning person was midair and considerably brighter than the rest of the fire. It was then that he realized that he was dealing with the consequences of a mage using their powers to disastrous effect. Really, it didn't matter too much, but he was happy to see that he wouldn't be messing with the proper order of things but actually putting things right.

The constructs dashed towards the fire, ready to put it out with their natural lack of heat. Tristan wasn't exactly ecstatic about feeling himself being burnt alive several times over, but something needed to be done. He kinda hoped that they'd be able to make enough of a difference in temperature before they started to get burnt that it wouldn't be too bad, but he had no experience with firefighting with his powers. It wasn't as though he could make use of the nearby lake, either, for the exact same reason that sending the constructs to their doom was a viable strategy: the temperature of the shadows was low enough that it would freeze the water before they could actually get any of it.

In the meantime, as the constructs were led on by mental control, Tristan was running to get to the other mage as quickly as he could. "Hey, you!" he shouted, unable to even look at them directly. "What happened here? Are you alright?"

Fuel, oxygen, and heat. Those were the three prerequisites of having a fire; and if any of those were removed from the equation, so was the fire. This was what was going through Tristan's mind as he forced his constructs towards the flames, instructions from a partial memory from when firefighters had come to one of his schools. He couldn't be entirely certain that he was remembering it correctly; hell, even if he was, he couldn't even be sure that he'd be able to actually do anything about it. It was just the only thing he could think of that might have a chance of success.

He bristled slightly at being told to go away, given how he wasn't the one burning down forests, but was willing to let it slide. High stress situation and all that. Instead he just focused on getting himself a bit further from the fire and amassing enough bodies to smother it in cold. After a certain point, it was going to take some focus to differentiate himself from the shadows anyway, so it was in his best interests to start preparing for that. Being insulted over someone trying to keep him from getting hurt was a waste of time and energy.

Hearing the following question demanded he put some focus into responding, though. At first, the equivalent of hair a hot spring dropped on him a few dozen times over did sound like a bad time, but it wasn't a full second before he realized it would probably hurt worse than jumping directly onto fire the same amount of times. "It'll be fine," he and his constructs all said at the same time, a slip that he corrected before speaking again. Only Tristan continued, saying, "it's better than the alternative, and it'll cool down somewhat before hitting any of us."

He held back on adding any new numbers to his forces, instead waiting until the other mage was done and hopefully being able to put out anything that wasn't doused. He braced his current troops for impact and prepared them to fling themselves onto any remaining flames.

Pain. White hot, searing agony. That was what assailed all of Tristan's constructs, whether they were hit by the boiling water or throwing themselves to the fire. It actually made it far easier to keep track of his actual form, as it was the only one whose body wasn't screaming at his mind to make it all stop. Instead, he'd simply dropped to the ground and curled up, staring off into the distance as he strained to keep the screams to an anguished whimper. Needless to say, he was grateful when the fires finally died down.

He'd suffered the pain of death before, far more times than a normal person would be expected to, but it still wasn't a common occurrence. Still, a handful of constructs had fallen off of ledges or walked in front of something moving too fast, usually when he was getting up into numbers higher than he bothered to count and having difficulty keeping track of all of them at once. The rare gunshot that follows a careless encounter with the local police. Nothing like what had just happened, though. All of the constructs dissolved into nothingness, but Tristan remained in his position. Moving was the last thing he wanted to do, so he ignored the possibility until he heard the mage shouting to him.

It was with no small amount of effort that Tristan begrudgingly climbed to his feet, each movement extremely cautious. After making sure that everything still worked properly, he started walking towards where the voice had come from. He wasn't convinced that he could really trust his voice, so he waited until he caught sight of the other mage before shouting after her. "I'm fine," he said, hoping there might be more truth to it than it felt. He was still probably better off than the local ecosystem, at least.

It wasn't easy through the steam, but he could see some of the places where the fire had been burning. It was kinda jarring, seeing the greenery juxtaposed with the charred areas. If there was any simple example of why he didn't care for magic, he supposed the one in front of him would do nicely.

"What exactly were you doing out here?" Tristan asked as he gradually caught up to the girl. "Don't get me wrong, there's worse places to set on fire, but this certainly wasn't one of the best." He glanced back around at the rampant destruction before falling back on the other mage. "Have you... Have you heard of the Academy?"

Tristan nodded slowly in understanding, realizing that it probably wasn't the best question. Between the language barrier and a lack of freaking out at an army of shadow people, it was fairly obvious that she knew of the place. He was admittedly still getting used to the idea of the place, so he supposed it was to be expected, but it was still something he'd need to work on. At least he wasn't the only one new to the scene, apparently.

The opinion on Academy rules elicited a chuckle from the young man, though. "I think it's for good reasons - fighting mages is the best way to develop your powers and discover your limits, allegedly, and knowing the limits of magic could give insight into the nature of it all - but I have to agree. There's pushing people to their limits, and then there's fostering a bloodthirsty attitude. If someone gets too used to using their powers to get whatever they want, whatever the cost, it'll only spell trouble for the multiverse."

He paused, thinking to himself for a brief moment before continuing. "I'd still say you'd likely be better off practicing there than anywhere else, though. If nothing else, only because there's no chance that it wasn't constructed with more destructive mages in mind. It's not like you'll be able to burn down anything important in there, but I do understand your need for a more open place to practice. If I had to, I'd suggest maybe by the ocean? The coast is generally more open than most other places, and there's a lot more water in case anything does go wrong." He shrugged to punctuate, hopefully making it clear that he wasn't intending for his friendly advice to come across as anything else.

"And, hey. Don't worry about your powers, okay? With time and practice, you'll get better about control, just like with anything else. It worked for me, and it seems to have worked for everyone else. I doubt anyone has perfect mastery of their abilities for a while when they first show up." He certainly hadn't, but he doubted that going into detail would do any good. Instead, he simply gave a reassuring smile as he focused on distracting himself from what had just happened.

Tristan cocked an eyebrow. She certainly made a strong case for why magical warfare was a bad idea, and he didn't necessarily disagree. On paper, it sounded like a wonderful idea, as long as you didn't look at it too closely. Unfortunately, Tristan was altogether too fond of overanalyzing everything when he had the opportunity. He highly doubted the girl was in the mood for a debate, but he had a sinking suspicion that might be where the current topic would head. After all, things could never be as simple as actually agreeing with someone. As he chose his starting words, his eyes drifted back to the burnt areas of the forest. Change the face of the Multiverse, indeed.

"That's the thing, though, isn't it? Sure, we could definitely all change the multiverse, but who's to say that we'd actually end up changing it for the better? And that's if we even could figure out a way to all work together towards a common goal, which isn't likely. Everyone has their own agendas. The only things that could bring us together are a strong leader or a common enemy, and we have neither. The closest thing we have to a leader is the so-called 'Headmaster', and I personally have no clue what they're like or what they want. They have zero obvious leadership qualities, given how they're not around to give any direction to anyone, and I'm almost entirely certain they only have their title because they got here first and helped make the Academy. That does not necessarily make a leader."

Tristan sighed, his irritation starting to break through his monotone monologuing. He still had yet to look away from the accidental carnage. Slowly, he squatted down and took a seat on the grass in an attempt to get comfortable before continuing. An unsuccessful attempt. When he started speaking again, he successfully kept his frustration tone out of his frustrated rant.

"As for a common enemy, it's going to take something serious to get a bunch of obstinate children with the power to do whatever they want to put aside their differences. If we can't even work together to solve world hunger, cure cancer, abolish corrupt regimes, whatever - if none of the worlds' current atrocities are severe enough to prevent fighting over whether or not we should be rewarded, a common enemy isn't likely. Personally, I think the biggest threat we face is ignorance. I'm not saying this to be mean, but as we just saw firsthand, power without the knowledge of how to use it properly is a surefire recipe for disaster. That said, there are plenty of mages who couldn't care less about how magic works, how using it could be affecting us or the world around us, or even the long term consequences of their actions."

He turned to face the girl and offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I think I'm getting a bit off topic now. Basically, what I'm getting at is that it would be a wasted effort to try and 'encourage team work and harmony'. The Academy is in no position, currently, to do so. What it can do, though, is learn what it can about magic and the multiverse. And if the best way to do that is to encourage mages to reach the limits of their abilities and let them loose on the worlds, then I applaud their efforts. I don't agree with their methods - far too antagonistic for my tastes, with way too little regard for the existence of non-mages - but at least they're making the attempt."

Whether he was misunderstanding what she meant or vice versa, someone seemed to be getting lost in translation. He thought he understood what she was getting at, though. Didn't agree with it, really, but he believed he was understanding what she was meaning. Of course, philosophical debates weren't exactly something he took part in regularly, so it was entirely possible that he just wasn't getting her point, but it seemed more likely that he just wasn't getting his point across correctly. Not that he knew how to fix that.

Still, he couldn't just not comment. She seemed simultaneously cynical yet woefully optimistic at the same time, and that was something he couldn't help but prompt more of. Especially given how he was pretty sure he was of the exact opposite opinion, and yet they seemed to have reached the same conclusion: the Academy isn't what it could be, or even should be, and was going about everything in all the wrong ways. It was odd, to say the least, though he supposed that said a lot about just how dysfunctional the Academy actually was.

"I disagree," he said, a small amount of cheer slowly creeping back into his voice. "Rules have always needed to be invented and imposed, and most people seem to accept them only because they aren't able to benefit from complete anarchistic 'freedom'. Take everything from someone, bring them to their base, and they either depend solely on the charity of others or will break whatever rules necessary to survive. Hell, even those with excess are usually benefiting at the expense of everyone below them. I'd say that's dysfunction aplenty. That's probably why I'm not surprised this Academy is a chaotic mess of children using half understood magic to make poorly informed decisions with no concerns over consequences."

"That, in turn, likely has something to do with how I think you might be giving the founders too much credit. I'm far from the oldest mage I've heard of, but I'm among the oldest I've met, and I'm a young man prone to doing things without a firm grasp on exactly why they 'need' done. Most other mages seem to be a bit younger than I am. My money's on the Headmaster character probably being some kid of, say, fifteen or so. Maybe older, possibly even younger. He probably had help building the school, but maybe he didn't; either way, I'm betting he did it because he thought a place to connect the universes was a good idea for vague reasons and simply because he could. He and his hypothetical assistance decided to make it a school so that mages could learn a little to help them commingle and could be learned about. Then, being some random kid with portal powers, he either soon realized he was bad at actually being in charge, or got bored and demonstrated he was really bad at actually being in charge, so he went off to do his own thing."

Tristan gave an apologetic half smile to the girl and shrugged. "I'd doubt there's anything actually sinister going on behind the scenes, except for the evil of a lack of planning. Just kids being kids, except with far more responsibility than they know how to handle."

Tristan looked back at the burnt portion of forest as be considered his answer. It was an unpleasant reminder of the power of mages. If there really was anything sinister going on, "difficult to work in such an environment" probably wouldn't cover it for long. It would likely be impossible to suffer through the Academy's problems once ulterior motives inevitably came to light and took center stage in its activity. He had a hard time believing that such an ulterior motive wouldn't have revealed itself by now, though, which was why he chose to give the benefit of the doubt to the staff and simply write them off as unprepared or incompetent. It also allowed him the peace of mind to focus on the mundane aspects of his life, so he supposed there might have been a hint of bias keeping him optimistically hopeful.

One mundane aspect in particular was what kept Tristan from agreeing solely out of curiosity. "I'm thinking it would be best if I went back to my own universe. I'm working the morning shift, and it's better for me to show up tired than to show up late. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to make it back in good time, especially once night falls." A grateful, if somewhat strained smile flashed briefly before he took on a more concerned look. "How about you? I admit I don't know too much about Japan in this era, but I do know it can be pretty dangerous. Not to mention this place seems a little remote. Will you be able to make it home alright?"

He doubted he needed to clarify that he was asking if she'd be able to get there without her powers, or at least without her powers destroying everything. Another quick glance back at the burnt down forest almost certainly betrayed what his concerns were. He had no doubts that a mage wouldn't have any issues with what normal people could throw at them, especially in this universe, but he doubted any mundane would be able to anger a human comet and walk away unscathed. And if her home was a good distance away, her flying around to get there by bedtime could cause a fair bit more ecological damage.

"I'd be happy to be your traveling companion for the evening, if you'd prefer," Tristan said as he looked back at the girl, a smile quickly forming. "It wouldn't bother me any."