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For the recently anointed Dr Trevor Moreau, throwing himself into danger was part of his job description. Yet he had never felt fear in the same way he did in that moment as his bike approached the marina.

Trevor had done much to forget his time at the elite Kings Academy. In his mind, the sad memories far outweighed the positive ones. From day one, things proved difficult. Trev arrived in Florida with his writer mother when he was fifteen and took up residence in a small, quaint house overlooking the beach. They had left his father behind in New York so that his mother Martina could consult on a new TV show that would be based around one of her best selling novels, Death Rider. To begin with, Trevor believed that going to school with the world's elite, in a new city, a new state would be an awfully big adventure. Swiftly, the would-be explorer realised that it was an undertaking that he had not prepared for and was definitely not ready for.

Foremostly, he missed his father. Trevor loved his Dad, they shared everything from an interest in history and hiking to fierce eyebrows and a tall frame that towered over most of their compatriots. When Simon Moreau decided to stay in New York to continue to teach at Columbia, it broke his son's heart. The only blessing was that his parents did not separate and still deeply loved each other, they just did it from afar. The trips back to the big apple to spend time with his father and following him on archeological digs were the highlight of Trevor’s summers. 

He didn’t really much care for Florida or the people in it. Most did not treat him well for various reasons that only they could really justify or begin to explain because Trev never really understood it. If he wasn’t being picked on for his interests and academic mind, it would be for his height or his looks or a perceived lack of God knows what. It also didn’t help that he arrived into Kings later than most. Friendships and relationships had already been formed and he was the latecomer encroaching.

Kids could be so horrible.

When graduation came around, Trevor ran out of those big doors and never looked back. He was on the first plane to New York, left his cell phone in the house and then immediately he and his father were off on an expedition to Africa. The Moreau men spent months out there before the younger man then began his education at the illustrious Eton. England treated Trev much better than Florida ever did. These higher education types were much more his kind of people. Though strangely, the future archaeologist did long for some of the sun-kissed days at the Academy, it wasn’t all bad, after all.  He found friends in the likes of Matty, Ziggy, the Swimmer twins and Kai. Although in the intervening years he tried to keep up with them as much as he could, Trevor also developed a tendency to fall off the edge of the map, a trait that only got worse as he progressed deeper into his dream career. It soon became commonplace for him to spend less than two months out of a year actually in the US.

Pulling his bike off to the side of the road, Trevor parked up for a respite and to manage the pounding in his chest. He has climbed mountains, dived into crushing, unfathomable depths, he has traversed deserts and faced death herself on too many occasions to count. Yet what sat moored around the next bend of the road, a yacht brimming with ghosts of his own buried past, was the greatest challenge he had ever undertaken. He began to use the breathing techniques his mother had taught him, tightening his grip on the straps of the lone rucksack he brought with him.

[color=A69393]“It is in our nature to explore, to reach out into the unknown. The only true failure would be not to explore at all.”[/color]

Ernest Shackleton was one of Britain’s greatest explorers and he held a place on the Trevor’s Mount Rushmore of adventurers. In times of desired guidance, he would turn to the words of those that paved the way for him to continue to fill the uncharted waters of the never ending map. In this instance, Shackelton’s words would push Trevor onwards. He didn’t want to really go forward to this reunion at the gates of Atlantis but he knew that if he didn’t, he might regret it. And by the grace of God he did not want to live with any regrets. With a final sigh, Trev started the engine again and made the final push towards the port and to the Thousand Sunny.

After a few more minutes of riding, the archeologist and his bike arrived in time to see that a group had already begun to form at the boat. Some faces he knew instantly, like Ziggy and Kai. Others he had to do a double take and search through the history books of his brain to match a name. Luckily he was good at that. Trevor handed his keys to a valet and had a stranglehold on his bag straps once again as he began to step closer towards the crowd. Would they even recognise him now? He had changed so much. He had gotten in good shape, his hair had lightened due to time spent in the scorching sun and his clothes were much more rugged than that which he wore in high school. Did he even leave a legacy in their minds? Or was he a footnote in all of their far more interesting stories? Time would tell.

[color=A69393]“Hey everyone.”[/color][/center]