(Flashback) Student Counsel

[Kuvarakh]

34th day of Winter, 411 AV

The shielded apron would have been hot had it not been Winter. Kuvarakh waited for the master to assess his results. He was on the other side of the lab, slowly working his way through the students he knew would be falling short of required results, handing out advice and criticism. He looked up and nodded at Kuvarakh, knowing ahead of time that he would have succeeded easily. Which meant he would be last to be assessed. Kuvarakh sighed and leaned against the wall.

'Still such simple transmutations', Kuvarakh thought, 'shouldn't this still be 'Introduction to Alchemy'? He'd been following the suggested 'progressive' curriculum for three years, more or less, and yet, was still making sponges out of wood, wood out of sponges, cloth out of paper, paper out of cloth, etc., etc. Next they'll have us making glass out of sand and calling it 'alchemy' he smirked bitterly.

He shook off his frustration. He knew it stemmed more from his age than any issue with the pace of progression. Of course they would be cautious. He had seen their resident object lesson, Jordan...what's-his-name. But alchemy was not like a personal magic. 'Overgiving' was not really an applicable term for the risk inherent in this craft. You were supposed to push yourself to the limit for the greatest result. It was the ambient radiation from the accelerated djed stream that was the primary concern here.

He had been able to achieve full transmutation of these projects with only half effort since the start of this section. He was growing concerned that time was going to be the primary obstacle to his goal. He was almost fifty already.

Finally arriving, the teacher hardly glanced at Kuvarakh's results, just nodding, "Good job." He then outlined the next days' requirements and a list of texts for those needing additional preparatory literature. He dismissed the class, but instructed Kuvarakh to remain behind.

"You have been patient, Kuvarakh. It frustrates even ME to see your abilities so hindered by the curriculum. You should have skipped this section, perhaps even the next as well. But it is too late to advance you this season."

Kuvarakh nodded in resignation, "I understand, sir. It would not be fair to adjust the level of an entire class to accommodate a single student. I will simply have to wait."

"Actually, I was prepared to record your passing mark for the season right now. I see no reason for you to see this course out, it is almost remedial for you. Perhaps you can use the time to research the 'advanced' course curriculum. I will try to get a copy of the schedule for you. I believe you are ready, even without a head start."

"Thank you, sir! That is very good of you." Kuvarakh knew the teacher was bending the rules for him, and he appreciated it sincerely. But, still, he knew that time was against him. He already HAD researched the next section, and the next, and the next. It was not until he reached a tenured position that he would be able to use the ambiguous definitions of 'Applied Theory' to excuse the experimentation he had in mind.

As he walked down the hall, a messenger approached him, "Sir? You are Kuvarakh?"

"I am."

"Would you come with me, please? One of the masters wishes a word."

The messenger would say nothing further of his charge and Kuvarakh soon stopped asking and simply followed him to the northwest corner of the University grounds where the Gold Room was located.

"Wait here." the messenger said, and left. Kuvarakh ambled slowly from ring to ring, wondering what he was waiting for when his attention was piqued by the sound of a door closing. It came from the direction of the mysterious off-limits door that every one of the four transmutation rooms had.

Before the door stood the figure of a man. Kuvarakh knew it to be only a figure though. No real MAN, this one, he thought with trepidation. He knew a Nuit when he saw one. The 'race' responsible for the death of his daughter. The race of body-snatching parasites the world over. He made an effort to check his loathing.

"Professor Rayage?"

[Rayage]

It had been many years since the discovery of the underground alchemy circle. Access to it was limited, but since Ray was one of the trusted alchemists and more advanced professors on campus, not to mention the one who had found the circle, he was allowed to research its properties. The clearing out of rubble and debris took longer than he would have liked, but he was careful to oversee, as was the University, that everything which was removed or cleared had been done so in the most delicate of manners. Didn’t want to disturb anything or, gods forbid, break anything important.

Only those trusted by the University was allowed access to the room, and now a rather convenient stairway was assembled leading downward to the chamber where the ancient ring sits. The alchemist had not gotten a chance to use it yet as there was many things left to be done and tests to do and secrets to uncover. However big the urge to use such a powerful alchemy circle it was resisted, or perhaps didn’t exist in the first place. Things had to be done right. That is why Ray was there.

However such things were far from his mind as his footfalls echoed throughout the narrow and winding stairway. He had been given a proposition from another alchemy teacher. One he didn’t specifically have any opinion about, but has been with the school for a long time. He could care less about what this professor thought of this student, the nuit would have to see for himself before he would judge. There were plenty of students that Ray had kicked from his class, in fact the nuit had quite the reputation for his classes and rather small class size, that the University deemed was ‘Advanced’. Needless to say he wasn’t nearly impressed so far. Was this all the great University of Zeltiva had to offer? Why should he waste his time teaching mediocrely?

He was sure to be careful on the stairs. One slip could mean the end of them. They were carved of stone for crying out loud and the light was dim with a torch on the wall every so often, just as the light from the last torch could not be seen anymore. This left a miniature space where darkness, true darkness crept in and placed itself. Only to be trapped between two lights. Sometimes Ray questioned the placement of shadows, as if some of them didn’t make any sense, but everything in this world could be put logically if one applied themselves. Darkness was the absence of light, for it came with light was no longer present. Though with this he wondered where the darkness in people came from… Was it a symptom of the dimming of ones life? Then again, what did it matter? In the end all of them will meet death.

Coming to the door he opened it and walked through the portal, closing the door behind him and locking away any secrets from prying and curious eyes. For here he was the gate guardian.

”Indeed, I am Professor Rayage.” he answered the student, ”And you must be Kuvarakh.” he said clasping his hands together in front of him. His eyes coldly studied the man before him as if weighing him already on an invisible scale, ”I have heard much of your talent in the art of Alchemy.” he said, ”Im actually surprised. You have been creating quite a buzz around campus with your devotion.” somehow the compliments seeping from the undead man wouldn’t seem sincere. ”I have been asked that you be transferred to my class. Im sure you have heard rumors about it and let me assure you they are not far from the truth. Though” he held up a finger stepping closer, the torch light on the walls casting Rays shadow over the area as It flickered in the darkness, as if the fire itself was eating the darkness to create the light it spewed, ”I called you here because I wanted to see for myself what you can do.”

A smile almost creeped across his face as he thought, ”Fist, I would like for you to tell me, answer me this: What is Alchemy?” he asked the question and then waited. He wondered what direction this Kuvarakh would approach it from.

[Kuvarakh]

Kuvarakh tried not to show eagerness as he took a few steps towards the newly closed door as the Nuit spoke of this "buzz" he had supposedly been creating. He tried to be nonchalant as he listened past the voice of Professor Rayage for any hint of sound from beyond the door. He inhaled deeply through his nose, hoping for a scent indicating any substances being worked with in the mysterious depths. He wished the Professor would be quiet for a moment.

No such luck. He let the frustration slip from his face as he turned to the Master, who was going on about something to the effect of 'rumors you hear about him not being far from the truth'. He was about to ask what sort of 'buzz' he could have generated in the atmosphere of stifled creativity and redundant research that dominated the current alchemy curriculum, when the Professor held up a finger and stepped closer. 'Could he tell what I was thinking?' Kuvarakh asked himself silently.

"I called you here because I wanted to see for myself what you can do." The Nuit explained as his face took on a look of evaluation. Kuvarakh was neither surprised nor intimidated. Yes, he had heard of this 'man'. A demanding taskmaster with little or no tolerance for timid djedcraft. That suited Kuvarakh just fine. The very first class he had enrolled in had been an experimental one, and the records had been both eye-opening and hushed up. Since then, Kuvarakh had found little to truly test him. The mainstream program was 'safety oriented'. That was fine for people that wanted to use alchemy to create...scented paint...or some such, but not for him.

He had discovered a personal meditation system that greatly empowered his acceleration and control, but it was going to waste. At least his professor had cut him loose, realizing that his capabilities far outstripped the rest of the class. He realized he was grateful to the man. A bit of humility crept into his expression, and he looked differently upon the Nuit. He still didn't like them, but this was an opportunity he could build on.

He realized the man was talking again, "Answer me this: What is Alchemy?"

A series of possible answers flashed through his mind. 'OK, this man does not want a by-rote recitation of the opening paragraph of 'Introduction to Alchemy'. Nor is he looking to hear my description of the mechanical processes or a breakdown of the steps involved and the purposes of each. Not for him the function of the chargers or how you activate a ring. I doubt he is even looking for a summation of the percentages of likelihood inherent in different categories of properties hoping to be imbued vs. the inherent resistance TO those properties present in different classes of receivers.' Kuvarakh pondered the angle this answer was to come from.Those were 'essay questions', not a question to evaluate the caliber of a prospective assistant.

Kuvarakh looked the man directly in the eye, "Alchemy is the doorway through which common items pass to become extraordinary items. It is the means of achieving a level of capability limited only by the creativity and willingness of the crafter. It is the stepping stone to infinite possibilities....Or...did you want the textbook answer?"

[Rayage]

Ray watched him carefully, observing his face as he talked. He watched his demeanor, trying to read the body language. Humans, especially the older ones, were interesting. The way they thought, how they acted, the way they were conditioned by society, the many chains by which they bound themselves in, all of it was interesting. Being long lived he had watched the rise and fall of many great people. He had seen both fools and scholars in positions of power. He had seen ‘it all’. He had heard it all, and therefore the answer to his question didn’t come as a surprise.

The door behind him closed tightly and the nuit took the time to turn around and lock it with the key. He need not to leave it open for the world to see. Unfortunately for the man trying to listen past there would be no possibility of noise seeping up and through to the surface. One reason was the stairways winding way, and another was the sheer depth of the place. The underground lab was deep, buried in the earth, and it was well shielded. Magic had prevented a small chamber, the one Ray happened to land in when he discovered the place, from collapsing because of the Valterrian. Taking the key he slipped it back into his robes and turned around, nodding as the man answered his question.

Ray liked these kinds of people. They thought outside the box, and strived to create and advance the craft. Nodding when he ended, ”No, no.” he paused ”I don’t want any answer but your own.” He made sure he was clear on that, ”That was a suitable answer.” he told him, ”And to you, what does it mean to be an alchemist?” he smiled as he asked the question. They were simple and they had many answers. Every person would have a different answer to the question, but every person would approach it in a similar way. Or at least most people.

Something was different about him, the man in front of him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He, somehow, reminded the nuit of himself. It was both interesting and fascinating, but scary at the same time. ”This room is called the Gold Room.” he said ”One of the Alchemy Labs in Zeltiva. Im sure you have used it before.” he said looking around the room at the gold and yellow décor, ”Not exactly my style.” he commented, ”But, you wish to really push the boundaries of Alchemy? Tell me, what is the most difficult transmutation you have ever accomplished? How many doors were opened? Oh, and don’t be shy in your achievements. I don’t go by the same standards of most of the University staff.”

”Also, what is your motivation to be an alchemist?” he asked. This small exchanging of words sounding more like an interview, it seemed that the alchemist was being greatly amused by asking his questions, by watching, and by making his silent assumptions. ”Not everyone is cut out to be an alchemist.” he told him, ”No, most are not.” he paused, ”And out of those who are meant to be alchemists only a small percent will actually achieve something noteworthy, and out of that small percent only a few will do something groundbreaking.” he smiled, ”Everything comes back to motivation,” he explained, ” and when it really counts it is that drive which will see you through your accomplishments. Though I digress, Im only ranting now.” he finished. Exactly what kind of examination did the nuit have planned?

[Kuvarakh]

"That was a suitable answer." The professor said with some distraction, obviously preparing to phrase his next question. Kuvarakh realized he had relaxed slightly. He hadn't thought he was nervous, but now he felt it. Yes, this was an opportunity and he didn't want to let it slip past.

"And to you, what does it mean to be an alchemist?" he asked Kuvarakh with a smile. It was somewhat unnerving, as though each time he gave a satisfactory answer, it put pressure on him to do even better with the next one. 'Well, he SAID he wanted no answer but my own.' he thought to himself. Very well, let it be candor.

"No more or less than it MEANS to be a....magecrafter..." he said with a flourish, choosing an alternate school at random. "Being an alchemist means that I have decided that alchemy is the course most likely to aid me in achieving my goals. It means alchemy is the discipline I will pursue with the full measure of my ability, creativity and endurance. Were I an...animator...my answer would be the same."

The professor's next question was more difficult, though it should have been easier. 'What was your most difficult transmutation?' The most difficult transmutation he had done was 'not to be discussed'. And it wasn't truly a transmutation. It was more of a restoration. There had not even been any chargers or receivers. It was the experimental class he had first enrolled in. The Nuit before him was obviously highly placed in the University, but that didn't mean he was privy to this information. It had involved live subjects, Kuvarakh being one of them. Not deliberately, but unexpected developments had resulted in the necessary flirting with one of the University's greatest controversies.

Fortunately, the professor went on to make several mundane remarks. Kuvarakh decided to exploit the opportunity to avoid answering directly. 'Perhaps he DOES know, and is testing my ability to keep my mouth shut when required.' He tested the water, "With all due respect sir, The standard curriculum has not yet provided me with a difficult transmutation. This...prevents me from answering." He directed a pointed look at the man.

Surprisingly, the Nuit seemed amused. Kuvarakh had no idea if his dodging of the question was a positive or negative act in the eyes of the professor, but he went on as though he accepted it. Apprehensive gripped him with the next question.

"Also, what is your motivation to be an alchemist?" This was not a question he could answer to this person. Not honestly anyway. And, though the Professor now rambled on about the many who try and the few who truly succeed, he sensed it was to get him off his guard. "I'm only ranting now." he finished with a sly smile and watched Kuvarakh expectantly.

It suddenly occurred to him that this professor had shown signs of knowing much that he had thought hidden. 'Is he toying with me?' he thought with a sudden surge of resentment. His jaw was clenched instinctively and he was unaware of his hands forming fists as he answered. "My motivation? You ask me that?" He was unaware of the tears starting to form in his eyes. Tears generated more by anger than grief. "Very well. My motivation is to give my daughter's...murder meaning! To find the means to delay or end you Nuit's need to kill any more young girls to prolong your unnatural life!"

[Rayage]

The nuit kept at bay, watching him. His eyes held scales of their own; his ears adding on the pounds to one side, while how own thoughts and opinions piled on the other side of the scale. It was a tipping scale, and the professor was quickly making his judgments for such a thing. Humans were so interesting. Their motivations only rivaled those of a child’s fantasy and their logic, well, if it was present then it was skewed for emotion weighed heavily on their mind. It was almost pathetic, but the nuit did not feel sorry for them. No, he only pitied them because true ambition isn’t found within emotion or logic, but is found though a higher purpose, not for oneself, but to change the world. They were all puppets on fates strings after all.

Having heard all the man had to say the nuit smiled, having made his judgment, ”My, my…” it was almost mocking, ”such animosity.” he said the emotions of the man only amusing the nuit even more, ”It is a good ambition. In fact, I would love to have a stable body myself.” he grinned, ”but a good ambition for the wrong cause is still wrong.” He knew that his view on things probably wasn’t welcome, but he said it anyways. It needed to be said. Humans valued a life, a single life, too much. It almost made him want to walk out right there, but he stayed. This alchemist was supposed to be promising.

”Lets have a reality check here.” he started, his hands interlacing fingers together as he laid them over his stomach, ”Don’t you think that we nuits would have come up with a solution to our problem by now?” he asked, ”Changing and dealing with this decaying mess is really not ideal, but I put up with it. Why? Because I have to. I will not rest until I fulfill my own goals, my own ambitions.” he told him, ”We are beings with an endless lifespan, and you think that you, in one mortal life time, will be able to accomplish what we could not in centuries?” he asked, ”the prospect is laughable. You, just like the rest of your kind, are going to run out of time. When that happens,” he paused. Within that pause a thought brooded in his mind, collected, and was repeated over and over. what will you do? was the question, the simple stimuli to provoke all sorts of reactions. The words built in the nuits head as he chanted them, their message gaining more and more meaning as he slowly introduced this to his accumulation of djed. The thought mingled with Djed, each word empowered, and then the nuit spoke the sentence out loud, ”What will you do?” he asked, each word, each syllable being coated in hypnotic power. The question not only breaching the conscious mind, but also poking at the subconscious. He really meant for the man to think before he answered, ”Will you,” the nuit fashioned an answer for him that truly amused him, and it was evident, ”become the thing you are fighting? Will you, with some delusional dream, bargain for more time in any way possible and continue your quest as a nuit?’ he asked.

This had become less about alchemy and more about philosophy and ideals, but Ray did not care. He wanted to hear more of the psychobabble which will fill his ears and ring with the distorted truth.

[Kuvarakh]

'Become the thing you are fighting...bargain for more time...any way possible...even if my goal is the product of some absurd delusion...I will run out of time...my quest...my daughter's death...How else?...How else can I achieve my goal...but to become a Nuit?'

Kuvarakh felt as though he was staggering, the thoughts dominating his reason. It made such sense. But would he betray his daughter? A surge of resistance pushed back. 'NO! No, that's the point! I'm not fighting the Nuit! That's not what she would want...It's not what I want!'

'Delusion!...that they would not have tried...ridiculous!...But there's never any indication of such research in that regard...Why would such information be public?...It's true, disclosure of such research, especially failure, would only aggravate the racial hostility.'

When Kuvarakh realized he was still on his feet, and not his hands and knees, he nearly fell from disorientation. He caught himself on the wall, taking a few deep breaths. "I'm sorry, Professor. I just had a...very powerful insight into a...course of action I might need to consider.

He turned to the Nuit, his face set for a debate. "So, let's see...are you saying my 'good ambition' is nonetheless wrong? Is this because we...mortals...are obliged to assume that your...fellow Nuit...have been struggling to achieve this same goal?"

The amused expression on the professor's face was infuriating. "Perhaps, lacking the 'soul diluting' existence you enjoy, I still possess the motivation to succeed where your kind has become complacent. It's no secret that many Nuit wish to transform the world into some...glorious walking graveyard! Fitting tribute to the beneficence of Uldr." His sarcasm was pure venom.

"If I am to believe that you consider my hope to bring about a method of coexistence "laughable", then maybe you are one of them! What, then? Should we only strive for goals that have already been achieved? Is the fact that some goal hasn't been realized yet a good reason to dismiss it permanently? You say yourself you've got an 'endless lifespan'! You're a god-damned PROFESSOR! You should be encouraging 'delusional dreams', not laughing them down!

"My goal is not only for the sake of mortals, It will serve you too. I want not only for mortals not to be prey for unscrupulous Nuit, I want non-predatory Nuit not to fall prey to mob-mentality prejudice and fear as well."

His head dropped slightly, his eyes wandering as his thoughts returned to the subject of his limited time to see his goals reached. 'I will run out of time...How else?...How else?'

[Rayage]

All the nuit could manage was a light hearted chuckle, ”You see, there” he said, ”there,” he pointed to the mans chest, ”Therein lies the folly of all mortals.” he told him after hearing his argument, ”Emotions are fickle things, just like magic. You will see similarities between the two, but also differences. A young philosopher once questioned the existence of ‘emotion’.” he told the half-finished story, ”You see, this philosopher saw many things in a more magical light.” he said, his voice almost that of one remembering, ”His half-baked theory relied on the notion that everything real has Djed.” he nodded, ”He saw the world as a magical playground, the very stones beneath our feet had untapped magical potential. For the most part, he was correct.” A ugly sneer spread across his face, ”But” a finger rose in the air, ”He was wrong with one tiny little detail.” he told him.

”The heart.” he said, ”The heart,” he repeated himself, ”is not where emotion stems from.” he smiled, ”Emotions are a very mental function, coming from the brains in your head. Why does that make him a fool, you ask? Because his thinking was muddled by clumbsy ideas all neatly bound together with ribbons of emotions. Or perhaps, I should call them chains?” he mused, obviously still enjoying himself. ”Your good ambition is wrong because its tethered, bound, in emotional chains.” he told him.

”Ah!” the nuit smiled, ”but I never finished the story. The young, idealistic, and rather naïve Philosopher was in love.” the last word seemed to get caught in the nuits throat, making him hesitate to get it out, ”Yes,” he went on, ”To a beautiful lass, as young and stupid as he. They were happily married, and everything that could mean anything was just right.”

”Though, Fate would conspire against them.” he said, telling the story as if it was his own, was it? ”The lass couldn’t bear the Philosopher children.” he told him, ”Now, everything that is real had Djed.” he stated again, ”Like any couple they had their ups and downs, and the baby situation did not help. If anything it worsened their relationship. They both became withdrawn from the world. Their optimistic idealism turned inwards, and with it to the darker side of emotion.” he smiled as if this upcoming part was his favorite, ”You see, they couldn’t handle the situation, and so one crazed idea turned to another and another and another, so on and so forth until they found their answer.” the Alchemist moved his arm in front of him and swept it across his body and in an over glorified motion he waved slowly from one side to the next.

”Yes, they had their plan, and magic was their answer. Just like yours.” he pointed out, ”More specifically Alchemy. Just like you.” he drilled in the similarities, ”Together they were going to create life.” he announced it in an all too proud way, ”Yes, life. If they couldn’t have the baby of their dreams then they would just craft one themselves. This plan was a desperate one, made by petty emotions. With their goal in mind they set out to fulfill their dream.” The nuit paused.

”Years passed, and many studies and experimentations were performed. Yet, they did not get any closer to success. They overlooked the bitter truth, and in their emotional desperation they never took a human life. They overlooked one basic law: Djed cannot be created or destroyed. Life cannot be created, only transformed.” he said, ”They realized a little too late that to create life, they must take life. Even then they had their morals, their emotions. They learned the steep price of their ideals, and they would not take it. They let emotions guide them, and in the end they had not the resolve to fulfill their dreams. The idealistic Philosopher died of old age, bitter and time worn, regretting his decision.”

”Emotions got in their way. They couldn’t complete what they set out to do.” he said, ”These emotions, feeling of loss, and wanting to make meaning out something that should just be left buried,” he continued, ”are chains. You really think the drive of emotion can lead you to success when emotion, and the human range of emotion, is so limited? There are only so much a person can feel before they are driven by desperation into a mad search for meaning. These petty things can distort the reality which one dwells in, and hide the truth. Tell me, when your time comes, when you make the final realization of your research,” he smiled, ”that is assuming you finish, will you be willing to pay the price or will you reject the truth like the Philosopher and die bitter?” he asked.

”Kuvarakh, I may be a professor, but I am a nuit first. Ive seen firsthand the folly of those bound by emotions chain, the folly of man, and I laugh. You will achieve nothing unless you let go of emotion, and cut the binding threads of morality. Learn to go without that emotional drive and you will find the truth.” he told him, ”For even the brilliant Philosopher lost out in the end.”

[Kuvarakh]

"Spare me your rationalizing, Professor. Which twisted aspect would you have me address first? Shall we begin with the fact that your little parable has no bearing on my goals? I do not seek to create life! 'Emotions are fickle, as is magic" Kuvarakh's gestures made his quote into mockery. "So what? So you then disparage one fickle element while still seeing fit to embrace the other? Why not strip yourself of ALL hypocrisy then, and give up magic too?"

He began to pace, a wry look crossing his face. "Look at the evidence before you, sir. Moments ago, I was disillusioned over the thought that I have too limited a time to hope for success. But now you have angered me with your self-serving take on something that could be taken any number of ways. And, in doing so, by imbuing me, once again, with this emotion, I am re-energized."

He held his hand up to forestall the comment he could sense coming. "No, do not say it. I do not NEED emotion to give me drive. And while I acknowledge that the negativity I felt prior did drain that drive somewhat, you'd be a fool to think it could ever overcome the emotion that motivates me!"

He stopped pacing and faced the man. "None of this has any bearing on my determination. If I do not perform some action, it will never be due to some debilitating sense of emotional futility. My feelings for my daughter make this an impossibility! My emotions are my strength!"

His laugh was spiked with scorn. "Yes, yes, roll your eyes. I think you have forgotten how strong a motivator feelings can be. You shun them because there is nothing but yourself that you care about. You can not imagine emotions being beneficial because, for you, they are not. I think you actually fear emotions because, for you, they must always end in pain. But the motivating emotion for me already IS pain! And the more it hurts, the more motivated I become!"[/i]

He paused, resting his chin on his hand, his gaze analytical. "Tell me, when was the last time you cared about something? I mean, enough to motivate you? Did you become a nuit before everything you loved died, or after? Did you then develop new friendships and watch them age and die? Did it sink in that this would be the pattern for the remainder of your existence? Perhaps I would feel the same way.

"But YOU contrived to claim an immortal lifetime. And then you strip yourself of everything that makes it possible for people to live together so you can deal with it. And you think to judge the folly of MY sensibilities! MY motivation is not going to change because of loss or gain of past or future acquaintances.

"But this is secondary to the rest of your statements, since it is your doing and your problem. By your own words, I should ignore your problems, right? But the thought of dismissing morality is another matter. If you want to be a heartless husk, that's your business, but you speak of taking lives, of ignoring morality."

He was unaware his hands had formed fists. "In essence, you justify the murder of my daughter in the pursuit of your so-called "truth". What great TRUTH was served by her death? Was a cure discovered for a deadly plague? Tell me! I will be satisfied if this is so!"

He pounded the table with his fists. "NO! it was just another KILLER deciding his UNNATURAL immortality superseded the right of my DAUGHTER to her NATURAL LIFE!"

The table flew across the room to crash against the wall. Kuvarakh stood, his teeth bared like an animal, red-faced and panting with fury.

[Rayage]

Oooh, the nuit grinned as he saw the table fly across the room and hit the wall. He poked the bear there. Nonetheless the nuit stood there, the same amused expression he wore throughout this entire conversation still plastered on his face. It seemed he was having a bit of fun. If the alchemist was intimidated by the display he did not show it. He just stood there, ”Feel better now?” he asked staring at Kuvarakh like he was some interesting animal he was preforming tests on. His eyes seemed to take in every detail, every detail of the rage stricken face. The calculating look noting every inference of emotion because that look, that anger, oh it excited Ray. He could feel the energy, feel the tension in the air.

”You want to know the truth?” the nuit asked, ”The truth is, you were powerless to help your daughter and so you blame her death on some unnamed nuit. Tell me, were you there? Why didn’t you stop it?” he asked, ”The truth is, there is nothing you could have done to save your daughter. The truth is, even if you do finish your research Nuits will still kill. Do you know why?” he asked pausing a moment to let the man think it through.

If he went to say anything Ray would raise a hand, motioning for silence, ”Because we can.” he answered, ”The truth is, even if you somehow complete your research Nuit will still murder, but not out of necessity. Perhaps out of boredom?” he mused shaking his head, ”Wasteful, I know.” he said, voice sounding ashamed of what he was telling the student, ”We will become no better than you mortals who kill day by day because you, what, have a sense of pride? Why, why can you kill each other for no apparent reason and why is it that you obsess over one death from a Nuit when mankind kills each other every day?” he asked, ”I must say, have you ever heard of Sumberth?” he asked.

The nuit laughed, ”If a sunberthian gang came and raped and murdered your daughter would you spend your life hunting every last one of them down and making them pay?” he asked, ”Or do you hold some special place in your heart for us Nuit?” he asked, ”Is it because we are not human that you persecute us so?” he looked him in the eye, ”The truth is,” he said pausing but a moment at the end of his statement, ”completing your research will be meaningless in the face of the big picture. We undead do not have to take bodies that often if we are vigilant in care to our new… hosts.” he said eyes glancing up and down his own form, ”It will hardly cut down on the senseless murder your kind does.”

”See what I am trying to say?” he asked, ”I am not sure what plan the nuit who took your daughter from you, but you can have some peace in the fact that she wasn’t senselessly murdered in cold blood. The Nuit had a reason. The Nuit, all Nuit, have a reason for being. His work wasn’t done yet…” he cut himself off from looking like he was defending his kind, ”What a cruel card Fate has dealt you.” he told him.