Beauty of the Moment

Nodiana seemed scared for a moment, fearing to have insulted her tutor. But Remion simply looked at her, almost searching for something, before answering. “Because death is part of life, my dear.”
“But death is painful as well. Doesn’t seem right to experience pain through other lifeforms’ suffering. Wouldn’t it be better, to avoid pain and hardship altogether?” Remion snorted briefly at the notion, although he understood where the young woman came from. Her inexperience and naivete.
“And then what We wallow the rest of our lives in happiness and bliss, blind and ignorant to the vast spectrum of emotions and feelings? This would make us nothing but mindless hedonists, looking for the next high and pleasurable experience. I agree that pleasure is preferable to pain. Such is the way of things. This way life can make the difference between good and bad; helpful and dangerous. But: If we remove the pain life brings; like death, sickness, the loss of loved ones and more, what measure do we still have to value the good things in life? When the black is removed and only a searing, blinding light remains, all things are therefore gone and meaningless, good, or bad. As Death-Artists, although the name might be a bit hyperbolic, we strife so see all of life in all its forms. Death is simply on of the rawest and most meaningful moments we all will experience one day. All we do is to give glimpses into that day to people, so they may face it with less fear one day.”
“But is it that fair to the Xenos, who are subject to our practice? Don’t they deserve to experience life as well, good and bad, no matter how limited their experience might be?”
Remion nodded, lost in thought.
“Would you mind?” He rose from his seat and pointed towards the Xeno’s body. “You clearly conjure more nuance with your harmless question than you might think. I need to prepare the body, before the materials go bad.” Nodiana looked curiously at the hanging corpse, then nodded and jumped from her seat. Remion had to smile at the youthful eager of the woman. “You may even assist me with the procedure!”
The art professor walked over to a movable table tray, which he then pushed towards the pedestal. With the motions of an expert, he opened a drawer on the table and pulled forth a leather bag, an apron, and some other tools Nodiana could not recognize in the moment. Like a doctor inside an operation room, the professor equipped himself with the thick, rubbery apron, long gloved, covering almost his entire arms, and a quaint little band, which with he knotted his long silky hair back. The man pointed towards the other site of the room.
“There should be some trays in the shelves. Also, get some gloves as well. We don’t want to sully yourself.” Nodiana did as she was told, as Remion started to fidget at the pedestal. The entire time the body of the ‘Human’ was dripping blood from her wound down into the rivulet of the contraption. By lifting a hatched near the thing, Remion unearthed a big glass cylinder, in which the oddly crimson body fluid was collected in. With a few button presses, the machine underneath the pedestal started to move, constantly moving the cylinder of blood around, to prevent clotting.
As Nodiana clothed herself with gloves as well, Remion continued, as he opened the leather bag. It was an arsenal of different knives and tools, reminding Nodiana of a doctor again, maybe even a butcher.
“You grew up near Cortao?”, Remion asked on the byway.
“A town near the city, yes.” Nodiana watched as Remion made the first incisions along the body of the Xenos. More of the red blood poured along the cut and the master artisan started to peel back the skin at a whole. “My parents own an estate on the country site.”
“Farmers.”, the master added unimpressed.
“We work our slaves on the orchards, some field and the livestock of at least five different minor departments!”, Nodiana replied with vigour, trying to defend her parents comparably low status in society.
Remion’s eyebrows rose, as he laid open then chest cavity of the Human, as Nodiana was holding tools next to him, to cut and break through the body. “I did not mean this as an insult. The entire society lives on nutrition. From the highest member of the court to lowlifes in the streets! I am aware of the value of more common professions, like farmers.”
Nodiana acknowledged his vailed apology and handed Remion bowl, in which the Death-Artist emptied some of the organs. “I meant to say you know the reality of life then. You probably seen the process of slaughter of livestock, if you are not as closeted as I hope.”
“Yes.”, Nodiana answered sombrely. “But they can’t talk and beg for forgiveness…”
It felt to Remion as Nodiana was speaking from personal experience now, less from a general thesis of the topic.