Beauty of the Moment

While the sun disappeared behind the skyline of the city, the lesson came to a close, after Remion collected all drawing for evaluation, and talking a bit more about the life and calling of an artist, and the motive of death and its cultural importance to the Albnur race.
He let his students go off to their days earlier than usually, as he wanted to waste no more time with the processing of the Human’s body. He was so involved in his ideas about what could be done with the different materials of the body, that he did not notice the student, who was still standing between him and the subject at first, after all others left.
Remion eyed the young woman, with her dark, ebon hair and the especially fine and pointy outlines of her face. Quickly he went through his mental list of names, before speaking to her, as she was fixated on the Human corpse.
“Miss Nodiana, correct?” He young Albnur turned around, surprised herself by her heedlessness’. “Can I help you somehow?”, Remion asked laconic, as he tried to remember where she was from and her previous work.
“No… well yes!”, she answered reluctantly. “I may have a question for you…”
Remion frowned. “Are you asking me this?”, he gave back tauntingly.
The student named Nodiana stepped forth finally, mustering her courage. “I have a question about your practices!”
Remion nodded slowly, starting to remember who she was. One of the scholarships. Coming from a rural area. Modest upbringing, but some potential hidden in the crude, unshapen talent of hers.
Looking between her and the Human, he finally gave up, pointing her towards his desk, where the sketches lied, scattered across the surface. He could do with a short distraction. After all, he was getting paid to tutor the students, not indulge in his artisan needs.
While Nodiana took one of the student chairs to the desk, Remion went to a small panel, next to the exit of the atelier. After pressing some buttons, a hissing noise was heard, followed by a feelable temperature drop.
“Hope you don’t mind. It helps preserving the body better.”
Nodiana shook her head shyly, as Remion took place behind the desk.
“I don’t mind the cold.”, she answered, giving Remion a coy smile as she pressed her arms closer to her body to keep as warm as possible. Remion instead took seat across her, spreading the drawing even further across the massive desk.
“Sort these.”, he said coldly, like he was mentally already somewhere else.
“What?” Nodiana did not understand, looking at the sketches of her alumni; her own amongst them.
“Sort them. By order. Worst to best.” The young woman looked at him with surprise, but Remion reinstated his order. “Today!”
While the young Albnur started to look through the charcoal sketches of the dying Xenos, Remion was already back to the carcass. He pressed a button next to the pedestal, activating clanking noises, coming from underneath the floor. Vents started to suck up the collected blood, that was still dripping from the artery wound of the Xenos, gathering it in large containers underneath the floorboards. Blood would cloak eventually and become discoloured, to it hat to be kept moving by machines, before Remion could find the time to treat it with the right ointments, that keep the colour and liquidity of the substance. We would not miss the chance to eventually paint a picture with such a vibrant and deep red. Mayhap even a picture of the Human’s own death. Some sort of artistic interpretation, maybe.
The entire time, Nodiana went through the sketches, Remion was wondering, where she would put her own drawing in this scale. It honestly was more interesting to him, than the actual task of evaluating the drawings of his students. He might even keep Nodiana’s order, just so he did not have to deal with grades today. After some time, his student signified the end of her task and Remion came over to her.
“Interesting.” She truly managed to hit his initial taste of the pieces, as the papers were now orderly layout out along the table; best to worst. The latter one, was Nodiana’s own drawing. It was crude for Remion’s senses, although other people would have praised the young woman for her work. But in these hallow halls, only the best was just good enough. And her sketch of the Xeno’s death was mediocre if anything. But not the worst, per se.
“Why did you put that there?”, he asked her, standing behind the young woman, looking over the drawings. “False restraint does not fit an artist!”
Nodiana appeared sad. Less for his words, but more for her own failing. “I know. I’m sorry, I failed you.”
“Why me?” Remion sounded mad at the notion, of her or any of his students looking for his approval. “The only one you failed, is yourself! Do not burden others with your shortcomings or the lack of integrity.”
He grabbed the piece and moved it a few rows up in the ladder, playing it in the lower middle of it. “Do not presume yourself under others. Especially lack lusting dumps like this one!” Remion pointed at the new last entry. “A false sense of worth does not fit you. But over and under. Know what you are and what you are capable of, so you might break these chains and become more. Become better.”
Nodiana acknowledged her tutor’s notion and nodded. “I will do better next time.”
“Sufficient.” He added. He again took his seat cross the table. “Now, to your question!”
The young woman braced herself with a deep in- and exhale. “Does death have to be a part of art? Can’t we just do without it?”