Hazed by pleasure, Nix still had to know. This could be his last chance. 'Nikolai, ' he said thickly. 'Tell me about Nikolai.' Roark's hand drifted down over Nix's pale torso. He eyed Nix wryly. 'You have his persistence, ' he allowed wryly. His eyes flickered on Nix's hot face. Everything hidden behind them even as he spoke. 'Very well. He was a genius. He was a ... thug. He was night and day. He could be kindness itself to a stranger, and yet the next day would bathe in that stranger's blood. And if you tear the shirt from Henley's back, you will doubtless find Nikolai's name carved there. Nikolai became mine, and I his, for five hundred years.' Roark's striking face was smooth, expressionless. Enigmatic. 'They were five hundred years of heaven. Five hundred years of hell. I can tell you no more. Not right now. Is that enough?
Jae T. Jaggart
From [Nikolai] Medtner himself, who I do not think was the best possible advocate of his own works. But that's my opinion: I find him a little uninteresting and cold, sometimes. Also, at first, the thematic material is not of a kind that makes the greatest appeal, but if you keep with Medtner, I think he will take hold of you, and you're very likely to become a fan.
I'm particularly keen on promoting this [Nikolai] Medtner piece, Night Wind, because I feel it is a fantastic work that hasn't been given its due yet. Admittedly, it's difficult for both the performer and the listener. The work is quite dense, comparatively long, as these things go, and demands rather active listening. But it's gripping, and I believe it should be heard much more than it has been.