Vitae could not remember later just what he had said to send Nathan into such a rage. It was a visit just like all the others, with Nathan slipping into the room unexpectedly. Only this time the mage seemed agitated. He sat hunched up on the floor opposite Vitae, his knees drawn up to his chest. His eyes scanned the darkness around them as if expecting to find something terrible there. Conversing was particularly difficult that day. It was hardly a dialogue, fur Nathan rarely spoke, except to add an expectant "Yes?" or "And?" whenever Vitae ran out of things to say.

"I can't think of anything else," he said at last.

Nathan's wandering eyes locked on him. "A story," he suggested.

"I don't know any stories," said Vitae.

"A poem, then."

"You hate poetry," Vitae countered. Then he thought of one Nathan might appreciate. He wondered if he could remember it all. "Where once a fruitful nation stood," he began.

Nathan flinched violently. "Not that one," he snapped, looking sideways at the floor. "Tell me about your life," he said at last.

Vitae closed his eyes and took a patient breath. "I told you before, I would prefer not to."

Nathan just stared at him as if he hadn't understood a word of what Vitae had said. Vitae leaned back against the wall in resignation.

"Where did I leave off last time?"

"You left home for the Academy," Nathan said, his face relaxing into a vague smile. Vitae wondered dimly if Nathan saw this as a story as well.

---

And then I gave up before either one lost control, not having any control over the scene myself.

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