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by Marten on Fri May 25, 2007 8:54 pm
Elsewhere, a symposium was being held in the honor of Arcea Salis, who had come to the Academy in response to a request made by Sadij Bedra, one of its most profound philosophers, having nutured young minds for generations yet never coming across someone with such tremendous potential for joy; joy in its truest form, stemming from the knowledge of one's surroundings and one's self. Sadij was resting atop one of many cushions that were scattered about the room, reclining against a divan where two of his students sat, entranced by the foreigner their teacher had invited.
Arcea stood in the very center of the circular room, sunlight streaming down from the high windows that encircled it, the panes of glass caught between the ceiling and the wall. The angle of his waistline was slanting faintly against the light that appeared to emanate from him and not some external source. The movement of his mouth was captivating and the words that flowed forth rose and fell in musical cadence, the outline of a smile visible in the corner of his lips.
The manner in which he held himself made even the fairest and brightest of the Sparsians seem boorish. Not much was known about him, other than the fact that he could master anything he undertook and chose to undertake only those tasks that served a purpose. Even though he wore nothing more than a chiton of a subtle gray cloth while a heavier himation of black was wrapped about his torso once before being allowed to drape over his shoulder. Never to be defined, Arcea wore a pair of kothumus. The thick, leather boots ran up his slender legs and under the hem of his chiton, his choice in attire meant to convey a portion of what he was. Both philosopher and hunter, sooth-sayer and harbinger of pain.
"When I first began my diatribe, I had been asked to define myself as a cognizant being. But, in order to do so, we all must begin from something of lesser importance and move onto something as magnificent as you believe me to be. Do not mistake my words with modesty, for I know my worth far greater than you do, but you shall come to that conclusion on your own.
"What is there which is known by many yet is not great, and is yet is capable of definition as any larger thing? Shall I say an angler? We are all familiar with him, and he is not a very interesting or important person.
"Yet I suspect that he will furnish us with the sort of definition and line of enquiry which we want.
"Let us begin by asking whether he is or is not a man of art, but some other power."
"He is clearly a man of art." Sadij contributed to the conversation in an attempt to break his students from Arcea's spell.
"And of arts there are two kinds?"
"They are?"
"There is the agricultural; the tending of mortal creatures, and the art of constructing or molding vessels. Then there is the art of imitation-all these may be appropriately called by a single name."
"What do you mean? And what is the name?"
"He who brings into existence something that did not exist before is said to be a producer, and that which is brought into existence is said to be produced."
"This is true," Sadij suppressed a smile as he began to guess at the line of thoughts his guest was beginning to take, "Very true."
"And all the arts which were just now mentioned are characterized by this power of producing that which was not in existence before?"
"That they are."
"Then let us sum them up under the name of productive or creative art. Next follows the whole class of learning and cognition; then comes trade, fighting, hunting. And since none of these produces anything, but is only engaged in conquering by word or action, or in preventing others from conquering those things which exist and have been already produced. In each and all of these branches there appears to be an art which may be called acquisitive or the art of acquiring."
"Yes, that is the proper name."
"Seeing, then, that all arts are either acquisitive or creative, in which class shall we place the art of the angler?"
"Clearly in the acquisitive class."
"The acquisitive may be subdivided into two parts: there is exchange, which is voluntary and is effected by gifts, hire, purchase; and the other part of acquisitive, which takes by force of word or deed, may be termed conquest?"
"That has been implied in what has been said."
"And may not conquest be again subdivided?"
"How, Arcea?"
"Open force may be called fighting, and force in secret may have the general name of hunting?"
"Hmm... I see."
"And there is no reason why the art of hunting should not be further divided."
"How would you make the division?"
"Into the hunting of living and of lifeless prey." At these words, Arcea smiled and looked upon the students that had drawn closer with every word; some with mouths agape as they witnessed a man performing a task that he both enjoyed and was proficient at, a rarity indeed. Combing his fingers through the livid locks upon his head, he smiled briefly before beginning anew, only to be stopped as his mouth formed the first syllable.
"Our informants have told us that Ghalerion makes war upon the Vyken of the North!"

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