Passion, History, and Light

Chapter 3: Portland Meyer

What is society’s purpose?

What is learning’s purpose?

What is knowledge’s purpose?

What is Man’s purpose?

What is a human being?

What is being?

The origin of knowledge itself?

This is philosophy, Portland’s favorite study.

It goes around in circles and isn’t always meant to have a concise, absolute, answer to every question or scenario. Both relativity and absolute truth exist in one study, and those who would come to study the course for anything higher than a certificate or diploma were bound to be interesting. He was...content there, with fellow intellectuals and people searching for something. No one judged anyone and anything goes.

He learns funny things and could crack a smile or the rare chuckle.

He learns heavy things and can’t help but find the practicality in it- especially since he has been there and done that.

He learns the most loopy thoughts that anyone would feel enlightened from after leaving the class or course.

Portland Meyer found a piece of heaven and sanity in this light of learning and change, because once the day ends and the sun begins to set, Portland Meyer can no longer afford to be Portland Meyer. It was time to leave the dream and face his reality.

A chained destiny long since accepted.

The room was still and quiet. A glass wall showed the brilliant night view of Ausborn. The long meeting table was full, but every man and woman said nothing; eyes which were once roving the report then glancing at counterparts; eyes once asking questions then waiting for the head to speak. From the shimmering clean table top to the glistening ornaments of every tool and accessory in the room, the antique furniture and carpet, and present equally-garnished individuals, this was place for wealth and power.

Only one person was standing in the room.

Professionally silent, the handsome youth was impeccably dressed in a top designer suit and tie, the silver tie clip gleaming in the lights as sharply as his calm gaze. His raked back hair and silver ear piercings brought a gothic touch of personality which was otherwise nonexistent on the beautiful mannequin. Silently, he blended into the surroundings as he stood behind the head's seat and if no one was paying attention, they would have missed him.

“What is their motive?”

A deep baritone voice slipped from the lips of the stoic middle-aged head and skins prickled at his cold tone.

“Sir.” A subordinate looked down at his report. “It seems the Bai Family have made alliances internationally and felt they had enough weight to go against the Family. So they’ve started vying for our territories and winning our allies.”

“Some of the businesses are also getting attacked,” another said grimly. “Bai is asking for war.”

A dark grin spread across the head's face. “Then a war we'll give them. Carlington.”

“Sir.”

“Isn’t your nephew engaged to a Bai?”

The man's hands broke in sweat and he wondered what the boss was thinking. “Yes, sir. Seraph Bai is the second cousin to the Bai family’s heir. Her family isn't involved in their Family however.”

“Hm. Break off the engagement. I know your brother is simply vying for power. Unless...he likes her?”

Carlington shook his head. “He likes someone else.”

Then there’s no problem. “Meyer.”

A movement silently moved forward and the youth was brought back to everyone’s notice.

Carlington suppressed the instinctive hostility in his belly at the youth’s increased proximity to the table. This boy is dangerous. He quietly eyed the indecipherable expression and polished, servile, bearing; once again wondering where the boss found him. His past was nonexistent beyond what was necessary to explain his existence to authorities, he had no similarities to the boss so that theory died fast, and he never spoke unless necessary. Despite his youth, his work was flawless- efficient, inclusive, and with credit properly given when due. He seemed to crave nothing and desired nothing.

A pawn. The perfect, beautiful, doll.

“Investigate the Zsor’s. Find me a few alliances.” The head calmly reclined as he tapped the table by his empty tea cup. “It’s in our plan to expand anyway.”

Meyer smoothly refilled the tea cup, familiarly putting the right measurement of sugar, and setting the cup handle right. “Yes, master.”

The cup paused at his lips. “And get rid of dear Johnny for me.”

Meyer’s gaze drifted to his view of the back profile. So his move from the investigation…. He closed his eyes, inclining his head. “Yes, sir.”

Cold eyes looked into the abyss scaring a decent portion of those at the table into silent prayer...though at least half of them were atheist.

He can’t regret his betrayal now.

The meeting moved to a few other topics and Meyer looked at the reflection of the nightview on an ornament vase in his frontal view.

When will the sun rise again….