Immortals

Young George feels elated. Wearing his newly acquired black suit, complete with assorted black trousers, a white shirt, a gray vest, a black bow tie, black socks, shoes and carrying a heavy backpack; he is ready, or at least so he thinks, for a new start. All the above items consist his new school uniform. A school he tried hard to gain acceptance in. Drunk in his success he remembers the tremendous amount of effort he had exerted in the past six months to reach the point he is now. The sensation of accomplishment and success is overwhelming him. With every new step, he is moving closer to his goal, certain that a brilliant career is awaiting him.

The first mixed high school, aptly named Stygian Waters High, is the name of the school this inspired young gentleman was accepted in. Mixed in this case, is not a term referring to the gender of the students that study here. Mixed gender high schools have been a reality across the planet for centuries now. No, mixed in this jolly time in the future, is a term to describe the social class of the aspiring learners. As such mixed in this instance means that the school is attended by the children of both mortal and immortal families.

The school is a boarding school that factions in a semi-private status. That means that while the school is private and the studies here are quite costly, attendance of mortal children is achieved through state distributed scholarships. As such a test is available to secondary school students during the last year of their studies and should they be successful in it, they are offered a scholarship in this high school.

This rather complicated educational arrangement is quite frankly an idea untested and novel. Since, unfortunately, change starts somewhere, certain brave souls, like George, need to pioneer it. The purpose of this idea is to promote the cooperation between mortals and immortals and allow the mortals the opportunity to be directly trained with their future employers. For the mortals, the chance to study with the elusive and revered Immortals is considered a rare and highly sought-after opportunity. As such the exams George had to partake, are highly competitive and due to the small rate of acceptance, they are harder than their modern-day A levels equivalents. Therefore, George’s feelings of accomplishment for being accepted in this school is absolutely justified.

This is not the case, however for the immortals and their families. The high cost of the participation in this project falls entirely to the families of the immortals. And in a cost-effective analysis, it might have been cheaper for them to just hire private tutors for their rare, and precious offspring. Or even better personally train the family heir in taking over the dynasty. Therefore, benefits are given to the immortal families to entice them in participating. In return for the scholarship, the immortal families are offered a significant tax relief. Which means that practically the immortal families gain more money than they lose by sending their children there. Still most immortal families are reluctant to send their priced children in such a school. Let alone send their dynasty heir, who could be those mortal’s future employer. Instead in most cases, the participants are from families with more than one child, which is something that is already rare in our time.

In spite, the gruelling exams and the novelty of the project. Young George’s prospects are not yet secure. Not all new ideas are destined to succeed and the results of the application of this one had been inconclusive. In some cases, the mortals were unable to cooperate or even gain the acceptance of the immortals and they were forced to forfeit their studies without finishing high-school. This led to an abrupt end to any chance for academic careers, which were slim, to begin with. Yet our young protagonist is blissfully unaware of the risk this career choice carried. For him, the world is his oyster and the stars are finally aligned. He is, after all, a fifteen-year-old boy, and employment prospects are still somewhat distant for him.

He is now walking up the short road named Bifrost, towards the school entrance and the youth is overcome by awe for the beauty of the location. No, he is not following a neo-shamanistic ritual, it just so happens that the immortal mayor of this area has a sense of humour to rename the street leading to the school as such. It is hard to believe that this is a suburb and not a forest. Tall pine trees block the sun from both sides of a road that has no sidewalk. The ground is covered with fallen pine leaves sharp as needles along with a few bushes and some wild grass. George inhales the fresh air filled with a thousand smells. For him, a village boy, this refreshing air is a sorely missed commodity. While he was walking in the crowded streets of the city, more than once he had sneezed since his lungs are not accustomed to the smog covering it. The weather is moody and despite being the first days of September it is already, uncustomary for the area, pouring. As such, George is stepping carefully to avoid getting dirt on his new shoes. Soon he reaches the door when a large, hairy, white dog that is sitting on the side of the street just outside, starts to bark at him. Distracted, George turns towards the dog and smiling he waves his hand at it, without slowing his step. He is aware that the dog is unlikely to understand the gesture, but being in a foreign place in an area that the dog considers its own, ignoring the canine might make it aggressive, something he hoped to prevent by diverting his attention to it. Then as he passes through the threshold of the door he is forced to accept the presence of an obstacle by a painful collision.

"Who puts things behind a door? " George thinks as he finds himself stumbling on the soft body of a beautiful young lady. Dark haired with a golden hue on her skin, she is dressed in a frilly white dress, rather long and modest for the modern standards, accompanied by some laced sandals. The girl that was looking the other way is equally surprised. Turning to see what hit her she loses her balance and falls on the muddy floor dirtying her dress. Then the surprised George stumbles and falls on top of her and finds himself inadvertently fondling with the young girl’s breast. The weight of his backpack is not helping the situation any either. The mischievous white dog that is responsible for the whole mess barks in a way that almost sounds like laughter and runs away.

-Watch where you are going, idiot!

The girl is blushing, but you cannot tell whether it is from embarrassment or annoyance. And remove that hand from my breast already! Idiot! Uuugh!

You can almost cut the young lady’s irritation with a knife.

-So beautiful.

George, still flat-footed voices the first thing that went through his mind in an almost hypnotized manner. He does not realize what he said, or that he said it. Complying with the girl’s request he gathers his hand in a hurry but, getting up is a bit more complicated than that. The position is compromising. Unnecessary movements could lead to further embarrassments. To avoid angering the girl George decides that the best way to stand is to squat himself up. So, he leans back on his heels, allowing the weight of his backpack to help him and pushes. Then offers his hand to the girl to help her up. The girl takes his hand and corrects him as she stands up. Her touch is distracting to him. Her hands are cold and absorb the heat of his own hand greedily, but soft, clean and alluring.

-You should refer to me as goddess!

She demands. She is rather taken aback by the sudden compliment. The young man is good looking too, but she feels the need to grasp control of the situation. Not to mention she just met him, giving her compliments and tumbling on the floor with her is not exactly timely.

-Eh, what?

The request confused George, who is now wondering whether she hit her head during the fall. Embarrassed by his unplanned confession he felt the need to regain some of his dignity. There is no way he could give in to a request like that.

-When you talk to me, you will call me goddess.

Maybe she is talking too fast for him and he can’t keep up, or he is a foreigner, so she deliberately slows her voice and emphasizes each syllable. She really hopes he is not an idiot, but ground rules must be established.

-What a priss.

It is a rather harsh choice of words, but she seriously cannot hope to get away with demanding to be called a goddess by a person she just met.

-Excuse me?

Now it is the girl’s turn to feel surprised. Did he not mean what he said earlier? No, it had to be his honest thoughts, there was some energy in those words she unconsciously felt. It was not the first time she was praised for her beauty. That is probably the most banal pickup line. But it is the first time she felt it as an honest remark rather than lip service.

-I said I think I will call you a priss instead.

Now George is deliberately slowing his voice emphasizing every syllable. He really could not let her get away with such demands.

- So, first, you hit me, then fondle my breasts and then call me a priss on top! Idiot! And to think I would allow you to be my slave.

She feels it too, she is asking too much of him, she just met him after all, and he does not know who she is.

-A priss for sure…

George’s eyes roll upwards as he hears the word slave. He does not know the girl, but she seems to have some weird vices. Beautiful or not he should stay clear.

-I told you to call me goddess idiot!

Backing down is not an option, her own pride and self-esteem demand that he is put in his place. George can really take no more of that. The cute face of the girl making such a ridiculous demand for him is turning red. And she demands worship without so much as batting an eyelash. Covered in mud as she is the situation strikes him as comical and he starts to laugh.

-Don’t laugh idiot!

He is justified, but he started to get annoying. He is probably teasing her on purpose now. George without knowing why swallows his laughter. But in his effort, his sights land on her cleavage.

-Don’t stare idiot!

At least he honestly likes her. Despite the embarrassment, his attention is not completely unwanted. The girl is looking seriously annoyed and George realizes that he went too far teasing her. He averts his eyes from her cleavage as she covers it by crossing her hands. Her eyes are downcast, while the dissatisfaction is practically oozing from her.

-I am sorry. I did not want any of those it was an accident. And my name is George and not idiot.

-Well, Mr Andnotidiot, you got some manners there. Do you always fondle girl’s breasts before introducing yourself?

She says that while eyeing him with her left eye as she keeps her right eye closed.

-I just told you it was not on purpose… Apparently, this is not a good day for George to complete a sentence as he finds himself interrupted again.

A man in his mid-forties comes right in between them, dressed in a similar manner with George. He is rather short for a man and he is round in his waist. He is losing some hair on his head but is donning a moustache which is a rather uncommon sight. Panting he turns towards the girl in an expression of sincere concern. On the street, down where he came from there is a fallen paper cup with some coffee spilling on the floor.

-Goddess Athena! What happened? Did this man attack you? Your Cugit dress is soiled with mud and your Rapda shoes are cut!

As he was speaking his swollen eyes are threatening to fall of their sockets at any time and his moustache is moving in sync with his lips. George is feeling uneasy. Who is that girl anyway to have a servant? And why is he calling her a goddess?

-Relax Mr Kostas, I don’t think he meant any harm. But he stumbled on me and tripped me.

While saying that her cheeks turn red. The middle-aged gentleman notices that at places her skin had been scratched from the numerous rocks that adorned the terrain and gets infuriated. His face colors itself red in a funny fashion and his eyes glare daggers at George. George realizes that it is not simply hatred that the older gentleman feels towards him but also detects a hint of jealousy. With a voice clearly annoyed the man starts.

-How dare you touch goddess Athena, you… you worthless bumpkin! Can’t you clearly see she is out of thy star? She is immortal! To be touched in such a way by a mortal like yourself is beyond criminal! It’s Blasphemous. And yet here you are molesting her. Show me your student’s Identifications.

-But it was an accident. George protested.

-Are you a student from this school? Or are you a stalker that was following the goddess to harm her?

George realizes it is better to show his identification and clear the misunderstanding. Since the girl is indeed an immortal the request of her servant was not an irrational one. He produces his identification and presents it to the older gentleman.

-So, you are a student of this school after all! And yet you commit such a blasphemy? Goddess Athena is an immortal…

The repetition of the last phrase finally caught up with him. It rang in George’s ears like a gong. She is certainly beautiful but the thought that she is an actual immortal never crossed his mind before now. He had always pegged immortals to be different somehow. To look like something to be revered, maybe a bit bigger like the ancient god’s statues, or at least to have a distinctive feature like a halo, or an aura of light. No goddess Athena has none of that. She looks like a normal girl of his age. He could no longer follow the old man’s rant. His joyful expression was already gone and is slowly replaced by one of sheer terror. He just realized that those clothes that got dirty are worth probably more than his parents’ salary for two months, so he could not even make amends for it. But worse as his mind backtracked the conversation with the goddess, her demands to which he had so blasphemously laughed at, were normal. It was just the expected behavior of a mortal towards an immortal.

-I was so stupid. The words slipped from his mouth, as the light of his previous joy is totally extinguished from his eyes.

The old man finding the chance to strike home is now feeling relentless.

-I wonder how the headmaster will react to this when it is reported to him. He added full of the venom of jealousy. I wonder if you will be expelled.

-But I tried so hard to get here. George protests.

-That is the difference between mortals and immortals. Mortals need to be cautious around immortals and that is exactly why schools like this are necessary. It’s a great honor but also a great responsibility. Have you no respect for the blessed immortals that pay for your studies?

The old man keeps lecturing George until he feels satisfied. But George is unable to follow his rant. The goddess had put up a poker face, so he could not really tell whether she is happy or annoyed anymore. George wonders if she hates him. It should not be his primary concern anyway, but somehow it is the first thing on his mind. All that study and effort for which he had been so proud of earlier is to be wasted. But he is mostly worried to have made an enemy of the goddess. The old man is now explaining the social status difference between them. He does not need to be reminded, he knows fully the potential consequences of his actions. Probably better than the old man giving the lecture. They finally leave, and his mind is still in a haze

He gathers his pieces and drags his backpack to the nearest seat. It is early morning and he already needs sleep. This would be one long day. Now the world is swept beneath his feet and effort is required just to stand. If he is lucky maybe he can now find a job as a miner, like most mortals, fail that he could volunteer to be experimented on or be unemployed for the rest of his life. If she so much as bothered to spread a rumor that he is a disrespectful molester, his career prospects are grim. True despair started to settle, but what hurt him more is that she hates him.

Yet he has no time to recuperate. The morning bell would ring soon, and he has to run to his flat to leave his bag before he joins the others at the gathering point. Maybe for the last time. He watches helplessly as Mr Kostas makes his way straight to the headmaster’s office and expects to receive a call to present himself for punishment. But the call never comes. Maybe the headmaster wants to make an example of him and call him out in front of everyone.

He finds his room in the first building to the right of the entrance as it had been explained on the internet the previous day. He spares the time to glance at it. It is the expected student accommodation, much like the pictures the web site suggested. Small, with barely enough space to fit the furniture, let alone a human that wants to spread his arms. It has its own shower and bathroom, but that only means the area is even more cramped since there is an extra wall in the already cramped room. The window is facing north, being in the northern hemisphere, the sun will not shine in through it being in his relevant south. At least it is clean and tidy, has a desk for him to study and place his laptop, and a small closet to arrange his clothes. He was already aware of all the above, so he had brought with him only the absolute necessities. He has no time to arrange his things, so he just dumps his backpack next to the desk, which is within an arm’s reach and a step from the door and locks.

-Welcome to Stygian Waters High. He mutters to himself with a sigh. Then he drags his legs to the assembly point as the bell is about to ring. To his relief, no one had called for him yet.

The assembly point is at the school’s theatre. The room is dimly lit, even with the lights on, because the room is large and the ceiling high, but they try to illuminate it with normal ecological lights. Daylight finds its way from small windows almost hidden above tall libraries and armoires that threaten to block them off completely. In the gathering area, there are eleven more students. Five more boys and six more girls. All of them are dressed in servant outfits much like himself. Though the girls are wearing stereotypical French maid outfits. Frilly black dresses stopping above the knees accompanied by an apron and hair catchers, socks that go up all the way to their thighs and black shoes. Though the color of the aprons differs from girl to girl. Most dark-haired girls wear white aprons shocks and hair catchers, however, girls with pale or dark skin and blond hair, Found the uniform conflicting rather than enchanting their natural beauty as such they chose different colors to complete their outfits. Obviously, all of them are mortals.

-Should have realized from her dress! George keeps beating himself. As he remembers that the goddess was dressed in a completely different fashion.

On a slightly elevated stage, there are another five people which apparently consist the teaching staff. They are also dressed in servant uniforms the only difference being that they have a blue stripe on their shoulders. The hall is large and fit with white marble which is produced locally but makes the area cold. There are chairs in the room, but the students are hesitant to use them. The southern wall is completely closed intended to be used as the back for theatre plays. The last wall is adorned with the entrance and a few notice boards. One middle-aged woman dressed in a male servant uniform like the rest of the teaching staff steps on the podium that is prominent in the middle of the stage and takes the microphone.

-Welcome to Stygian waters high. I am Maria and I will be teaching you Science. Our headmaster Mr Xeron seems to have been delayed for some reason so please be seated and wait for him. The introduction will start shortly.

George knew all about the reason for Mr Xeron’s delay, or at least so he thought. He sat on a chair and sunk his head in his hands as if hiding his face would improve his situation. He is stressed, and it is catching up with him to the point he feels dizzy and nauseated. The room around him is turning, so he lifts his head towards the ceiling in an attempt to avoid upsetting his stomach.

-You look as if you ’ve seen a ghost. Relax we knew it from the start that our chances were slim.

A young girl sat next to him and tries to console him. Her voice brought him back to his body all the way from the third layer of pandemonium. He opens his eyes to look at her. She is a Blond girl with green eyes. Face covered with acne. Dressed in a French maid outfit. Though the outfit dampens her natural cheering looks. She tries to make up for it by matching her hair catcher with the colour of her eyes. Her body, young and well-shaped, but she is not very generous with her chest.

-It has been a long day already. He sighs at her and adds. Miss?

-Catherine, she replies and then protests. But the day only just started. Did you commute from that far away?

- George, nice to meet you. It was not the trip that troubled me. Rather what I found at the entrance.

-Kerberos gave you trouble?

-Who?

-The mutt at the door. I decided to call him that. He sure barks a lot.

Reminded the scene at the door again he loses his clarity and does not answer her.

-So, what happened?

She probes him in an attempt to figure what is wrong and how to help him. Some people are naturally cheerful and sympathetic to others, rare as they are, the people that have the courage to manifest their sympathy, are amongst the most precious wonders of our world.

-I met an immortal...

George says that, without any enthusiasm in it, however, it makes Catherine excited.

-You are so lucky! Who was there?

Her excitement makes her young face shine so much, that her acne momentarily disappears; giving George a glimpse of the beauty the young girl will soon be sporting. Looking at her, full of ambition and hope, is rather painful for the young man who turns his eyes away from her in a way similar to how we would turn our eyes away from a shining sun to protect them.

-I would not count myself lucky for it… In fact, that might be the only immortal I get to see.

The dead gaze of the young man for a moment, albeit only subconsciously she shares contaminates her with the weight of his worry and agony.

-Was it that bad?

Feeling remorse for laughing at something so serious her smile turns to a most wonderful expression of concern but unfortunately, acne was waiting for such a chance to overshadow her natural good looks once again.

-Let’s say I failed to give a positive first impression.

The gravity of the situation that is oozing from him dampens the spirit of young Catherine who does not retort and just remains there, silent, keeping him company. George, however, feels a bit uneasy at the silence and decides to resume the conversation.

-Does it not bother you that we might end up in the mines after all that effort?

-If you let a future that is not even here haunt you already then you also lose the present.

The girl speaks the words that George needs to hear. For a moment, he tries to set his worries aside, but it only lasts a few seconds.

Another teacher walks in. Again, dressed in a servant’s uniform this one, has a red stripe on his shoulder indicating he is the headmaster. Both of them fell silent as he walks to the podium to speak. George’s heart skips a beat wondering whether he will call him up and humiliate him.

-Welcome, he said to the students. First, congratulations are in order. Congratulations on being accepted and achieving a scholarship. You have been accepted to participate in this experimental project among fifty thousand applicants. My name is Xeron, I am the headmaster of this school. While you have managed an almost impossible task, I am sad to say your work is just beginning. Along with you, unfortunately, only three immortals have applied to the school. That, however, does not mean that at least three of you will be accepted by them. No, the immortals are under no obligation to offer a scholarship to any of you for the next year. It is up to you to convince them of your worth. If you cannot convince them that you can be of use to them, you will be transferred to another high school…

George realizes that he had lost one out of the three opportunities to convince an immortal of his worth. It is just his first day at school and he had already dug a hole for himself from which climbing out would be a difficult task.

-Lessons in this high school are for the benefit of the immortals, the mortal students will be tasked with providing support to the immortals so that they can succeed in their exams. Of course, the mortals are also welcomed to take the final exams at the end of the year but realize that the chances for success in those exams are slim. Not only are those exams international you will not even receive preparation for them. Even the immortals who will undertake those exams have slim to no chance of succeeding in them.

The building to the left of the entrance are the habitats of the Immortals. It is a single building with three floors, one floor for each immortal. The building on the right of the entrance is the habitats for you, the mortal students. It is still not finished but there is enough space for all of you. This is the main school building...

The old man is on a roll, is he really going to account for every room in the complex? Or is he dangling to George a glimpse of the school life he would miss as an additional form of punishment? George’s mind cannot focus on Mr Xeron’s words. He is back at the entrance with the goddess reliving every single detail. Every word and gesture she had made, it all made sense now. Her demands, her attitude, Mr Kostas’ attire. How could he had not realized? His disappointment is gripping his heart like a black hand full of vengeance, squishing it as hard as it cans in an attempt to stop her beating.

The joy and fulfilment he felt the whole 2 weeks after he received the results of being accepted in Stygian Waters High were finally catching up with him. Maybe it had been a Hybris and he is not meant for such joy and success. Maybe that is the reason he is now being punished. It soon won’t matter anymore. It is unlikely he would ever meet with her again. But instead of comforting him that thought made the hand press his heart even harder. In the same fashion that a man in the desert craves for water, such is the craving George is feeling to complete the studies in this school. He had tried so hard for it. He had indeed completed something impossible for that. Even if he did commit Hybris, what kind of cruel God will give him such a boon just to snatch it away before he could even taste it?

The pretty face of the young goddess Athena almost materialized for him. Do cruelty and injustice look like that? His feelings range from liking and admiration to disgust and hate when his mind finally finds a new target. Kostas! He is a mortal too. Why was he so eager to condemn him? What gain would his punishment bring to him and why did he try so hard to steer the goddess into punishing him? Young George is faced for the first time with the sadistic subconscious that guides some social interactions. Despite evidence for the opposite, some people follow the creed your loss my gain. Even if someone gaining increases the gain for all those around him and for the society itself, people with small authority. Really insignificant and mostly undistinguished will take a sadistic pride to flaunt that authority whenever the chance presents itself, for no other reason that they can do so. If there is doubt and they can get away with it because it is their call; they will choose a pretend caution over giving someone else a chance.

This whole idea, is, however, completely foreign to George, who grew up hoping and seeing the best in people. He learned to always give the benefit of doubt and because of the young of his age, he could not even fathom someone thinking like that. He could not justify or even follow the reasoning behind Mr Kostas’ actions. He only knew he did not like him and for the first time, he felt it. Filling his lungs like the smoke of a cigarette. Intolerable and choking him burning its way, down from his alveoli up to his neck. Hatred. Toxic and nauseating as nicotine herself. Then it formed around him and covered him like a dark fire that shuns light heat and life rising from his fingertips until it swallowed him whole.

- In the main building, there is a library with suggested literature as well as school books. We are in the process of adding more material to the library. There are also computers there which are strictly for studies, please use the Internet provided in your chambers for entertainment. And there is a lab which will serve for all science classes. There are an open pool, a basketball court, and a football yard as well as a kitchen. I would advise you to go exploring the school grounds when the opportunity presents itself. Mortals are allowed to attend the classes but they are not required to do so. But the mortal only classes at the end of the schedule are compulsory for all mortals...

Mr Xeron does not seem to be deterred, He is determined to cover everything, from the school ground to the subjects being taught. He is presenting the place with pride. A pride weird in its nature since it is not a pride associated with his personal achievements but a pride that comes from presenting something that does not belong to him.

The young students in front of him probably represent the best of their generation. They had already familiarized themselves with the school and the buildings by accessing the school’s website long before they even submitted their applications. They had even gone through the trouble of familiarizing themselves with the school’s curriculum while it was not outside possibility that some of them had already started studying for their finals for a school year that had not even started. George is one of those students. It was only natural that the principal’s poor choice of subject for this introduction is mostly for his own self-gratification rather than actually teaching them something new. As such the students are, by now, bored. But when the assorted students are so carefully selected in such a rigorous selection process, it takes an equally skilled teacher to assess the classroom. It’s not that Mr Xeron is bad, it is just that he is above average, doing what he is supposed to be doing when the students that are presented to him are far above average boarding exceptional.

Despite this bad choice, the class did not deteriorate into a mess with bored students talking to each other. The only signs those students showed for their boredom was that their eyes occasionally wandered away from their tutor hopelessly looking for a window that was not there and then returned back to him.

-Mr. Odhoson!

The headmaster finally felt he had covered everything and now it was the time.

George felt an insurmountable force hitting him as if it was trying to sweep him away from his chair, the planet, the dimension or existence. He gathered all his strength but failed to form any sound. As the headmaster was ready to call him for the second time he managed a single word.

-Present!

- Will you please join me up here on the stage Mr Odhoson.

George tried to squat himself up again, but his thighs are numb, so he uses his hands to push himself up. Then he makes his way to the podium, each step heavier than the previous one as if invisible hands emerged from the floor to grab him down with them, along with his hopes, to an unknown hell that lies below. He finally reaches Mr Xeron, who seems completely oblivious to his torment. Smiling as if he was about to deliver a world-saving prophecy he nods to him in approval and turns towards the others.

- Mr Odhoson congratulations. Ladies and Gentlemen, you should all take an example of Mr Odhoson’s efforts and try to live up to them. He is the living proof that this experimental high school can work out…

His voice has no hint of Irony and his congratulations are heartfelt. This completely baffles George who had no idea what he had done to deserve them. Slowly energy starts to return to his limbs, that are merging with his body again, but it would take a while before the drain he had felt would allow him to think, speak, or even move properly. Mr Xeron, however, is interrupted by a long ringing sound that signified that time is up, so he would have his explanation, that apparently for him is unnecessary, postponed for later.

-Well, unfortunately, ladies and gentlemen our time is up. Please make your way to the kitchen for the first mortal’s practical of the year that Mr Dionysis will guide you through. Mr Odhoson, make time for me and goddess Athena on Saturday morning.

George tries to say something, but the exhaustion is catching up with him and the headmaster, unable to feel other’s emotions, like most people, could not have realized the confusion George is feeling, so he leaves in a hurry. Mrs Maria, however, noticed the troubled young man and approached him.

-Mr. George. Is there something wrong? you seem troubled.

George is tired but now he is finally firmly inside his body. His limbs and lips will obey him effortlessly and despite needing rest, he has to persevere at least until the evening. Skipping classes on the first day at school is not something he would do despite the circumstances.

-Mrs Maria, would you happen to know what this was all about? I had a rather unpleasant meeting with goddess Athena, but I do not think this is something to joke about.

Mrs. Maria partially understands the situation, but she has no concrete knowledge on which to base her answer on. She can only give a general reply to encourage the young man.

-I do not think Mr. Xeron would joke for such a matter in such a way. Mayhaps the encounter with goddess Athena was not as unpleasant as you thought? Maybe you did a better impression than you thought you did. I am sure Mr. Xeron did not realize there is a problem or a misunderstanding or he would have endeavored to resolve it. From his actions, I can gather that the misunderstanding worked out to your benefit.

-Still, he could spare a minute to explain.

-Yes, it was rather rude, but please understand that he had not had the chance to greet the Immortals yet. This was not done out of disrespect towards them but because we wished to allow them more time to settle in. He was in a hurry so that they do not feel insulted for being neglected.

- I guess it cannot be helped then. I will hear about it on Saturday anyway.

George tries to sound indifferent but his voice colors the air yellow with his eagerness.

-Maybe you should skip classes today? You do not seem too well. The skin of the young man is dangerously pale, and he is sweaty as if he had been through a hypoglycemic shock. Retiring to his room would probably be to his benefit.

However, for George, skipping class is tantamount to mischief. He probably places too much emphasis on attendance, but for him skipping class for anything short of a life-threatening illness is slacking. Though his teacher is probably right, and he should take the day off he is dead set to man it out. After all, he tried so hard to get accepted and he had been eagerly waiting for the new semester all summer, now that his efforts paid off he wants to indulge without further delays. He noticed that Catherine is waiting for him.

-Nah, I can manage. Thank you, Mrs. Maria. He answers before running to Catherine.