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The Prophet and the Zealot

DaoistTKpOpp
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Across the hall, a dark skinned man enters the upper deck, he is clothed in simplistic fashion, donning a dress shirt and a gray hose. He stands nearly a head taller than everyone present, possessing a muscular frame, he is soothing to the eyes and his demeanor is representative of his cloth choice, simple. He glances over the crowd as though he was searching for something.

Unknown to him, He has already gathered attention from the crowd as he stands severely out of place to them. Ignoring the stares, he walks towards the where Marcus is, where he is spotted by one of the men.

Paulo!, the man exclaims, I thought you would not make it in time

I am respectful of time, as it waits for not even the best of us, replied the man in a deep voice. The man laughs introducing Paulo to the group as his honoured guest, acknowledging his presence, they continue in their conversations with Paulo now joining them, preferring to observe more than contribute.

Time passes by quickly and Marcus excuses himself from the group, walking out towards the main deck, he is looking for a man that has caught his attention, seemingly out of place yet completes the setting. He spots him afar at the bow of the ship, his demeanor is settling, standing head tall overlooking the seas, battling command with it over grace. Marcus, intrigued, begins walking towards him,

The Sea is a true wonder, friend and enemy, graceful and devastating in no small measure, Marcus said approaching the man

Hmm, He sighed, many wonders yet to know.

There is a brief moment of silence as both men look out to the sea, Their auras intertwine, fighting for dominance

What is the cost?, asked Marcus

Pardon?

For you to be recognized by the Aranian either means you bear a crown, are freed of mind or have gathered for yourself a significant amount of wealth, that the only color he sees is gold, Which is it?

Do you share in his convictions?

I care little for color, crown or gold, my interest lies in the chamber of thought, in knowledge, this is my measure of a man, replied Marcus

Then I am but a man of simple means, never bound, never freed. "Paulo, said the man as he turned to face Marcus, Paulo Shola"

Marcus Arteta, said Marcus as he stretched out his hand to meet Paulo's

Might I ask, Marcus, how did you come to light of the Aranian's proclivities, I take it you met acquaintances here

Light work, Marcus said with a chuckle, The man is vain and uplifted in his status, he, from his speech believes in the exosomatic idea, exalting outward appearance over virtue. Thus making it detectable about his perception of men. He, however, enshrines wealth and covets the crown of attention, when he is truly empty

Ha, laughed the taller man, So the rumors are true then, of the scope of your intellect

I am given to study and knowledge likewise to me

Then you would make my journey most memorable as I am in need of a travel companion

The expectations are mutual then.