Music rang out as the conversation between the two strangers continued. Neither gave any ground to the other, a verbal chess game was well in play as the sun began to set.
"I see. I am sorry to hear about your clan; it seems we come from a similar childhood." Kvothe's voice carried an element of sadness, like someone fighting to remain composed, as Kurapika finished explaining his motivations towards the destruction of the Phantom Troupe. "Your grudge sounds much like my own, although the enemy here is far more powerful than that which you describe."
Kurapika's eyes flashed a small amount of irritation at Kvothe's apparent dismissal.
"Oh? I hope you do not underestimate the capabilities of the enemy, the Phantom Troupe is untouchable to most, even our most elite assassins avoid encounters with them, when possible. I have managed to kill two of their members, but they were undoubtedly quickly replaced, and their leader is most likely back to full strength by this time. Without allies and a place of establishment, it will be quite difficult for me to continue to fight them individually. It is unfortunate I cannot take them on all at once, but the variables involved are not favourable to my survival, and I must remain alive to finish collecting the eyes of the Kurta. I hope you can see why this is not a matter to be taken so lightly."
Kvothe raised his hands in a quick apology, "I did not mean any harm by it. I am more than interested in learning more about this 'Nen,' and in turn I have no issue telling you why it is I made the claim about The Chandrian that I did. The Phantom Troupe has made public debuts that have allowed you to track their movements, so much so that you are aware of their presence even now – hence the current conversation. My challenge is slightly more, The Chandrian do not exist in any records; word of mouth, aside from fairy tales that only have an inkling of reliability; and have managed to leave only the most minimal of traces. I have encountered them twice, which is far more than many – that are alive at the very least. The fae fear them, and they are far more powerful than all humans, except maybe those who have mastered this land's magic: naming.
They have their own type of magic, if I can learn it before the Phantom Troupe get their hands on it, that may be enough to swing the odds in my favour for a direct confrontation.
"I apologize to interrupt your story, but I must ask for more details of this magic. I am in need of all ammunition I can acquire for my lonely war, and I can trade information about Nen in return." Kurapika leaned forward in the chair during the proposal, his interest in the topic easily understood by Kvothe.
"It is not that I do not wish to teach you more of this, but I barely understand it myself. I have been able to wield the wind, learn the name of my most trying enemy, and have branded a name for myself through its practice. I do not, however, understand it on a teachable level. For that, I would recommend meeting Master Elodin at the University. He comes off as empty-minded, but so far as I have been aware, his mastery far surpasses my own. What I can offer in exchange…" Kvothe paused as he looked at Wilem; Sim; and Manet, who were sitting quietly during the conversation. "This cannot leave this table, and I am loathe to even discuss it here, but," Kvothe's voice lowered to a whisper, "I will teach you the principles of Sympathy, a type of energy exchange to which you seem unfamiliar, that I believe you will be able to use to your advantage."
An immediate feeling of discomfort passed through the table, Manet and Wilem standing up abruptly.
"While we all seem to be aware of your desire to be expelled, Kvothe, I will not bear witness to you teaching the secrets of the University to someone you barely know. If you feel the need to continue in this business, I will not stop you, but do not expect me to encourage such behaviour." Wilem glowered at Kvothe, finished his drink, and began walking towards the door.
"The young are unable to think properly, and I am not likely to benefit if I watch you continue to dig yourself into an even larger hole." Manet followed Wilem at a quick pace, throwing coins on the table as he turned away.
"Sim?" Kvothe turned to his last remaining companion.
"Well, they're not wrong. You shouldn't be doing this. I won't lecture you, but I should probably go with them. I don't want to leave you alone though." Simmon glanced quickly at Kurapika and back to Kvothe, the lack of trust in the newcomer evident in his gaze.
"I can take care of myself, you should know that. I'll catch up with the three of you later, have a good walk back. No need for you to suffer for my sins, go catch up with Fela, I'm sure she's missing you." Kvothe gave Simmon his most confident smile, not letting through the small uneasiness that is bound to occur when you meet someone who understands your most intimate drive: that of a life bound for vengeance.
"Now, I believe we can begin?" Kurapika met eyes with his ally of convenience. "I do not have much time, there is no telling when the Troupe may arrive. This is a new city with new riches, they will not waste any time in stripping this city bare. The opportunity is perfect. If the situation arrives, do I have your assistance?
"Well, please begin with the principles of Nen. I cannot hope to assist you against an enemy wielding an unfamiliar power. In return, contingent of course on the elimination of the more current enemy, I can count on you to assist me in the research and locating of the Chandrian? I have made very little progress, and I am hoping that as we seem to be of a similar mind, you may be able to tip the scales." Kvothe's voice sped up a little in the emotion that came with feeling a small glimmer of hope towards seeing the Chandrian again – the chance to exact his revenge seemed more graspable.
"It is a deal. I will require a fair amount of your time, will your classes allow for that?"
"It will not be the first time I have skipped class, you can be assured of that."
They shook hands, and ordered another round of drinks.
Kurapika raised his glass into the air, never breaking eye contact with Kvothe. "A toast, to a most profitable friendship."
The glasses clinked and the music played. The balance of power had shifted dramatically in favour of the new friends.