To Indeed Be a God

Welcome to Hell-ton

Claire watched with a slight smile as the old man and five boys carried the candle, four banners emblazoned with the school's four pillars, and played bagpipes. Three of the four boys carrying the banners each smiled and winked at Claire as they went by.

The pews in the church were filled with students and parents while the teachers, all dressed in robes, were seated at the front of the church behind the headmaster.

The boys broke off to either side at the front of the church. The bagpipes ceased and the headmaster, Mr. Nolan, walked over to the old man carrying the candle.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys, the Light of Knowledge,"

An organ began to play as the old man went forward with shaking hands to the young boys in the front pew. Each boy was holding a candle and he bent over to light the first one. Each boy in turn lit the candle of the boy next to him.

Mr. Nolan spoke, "One hundred years ago, in 1859, forty-one boys sat in this room and were asked the same question that greets you at the start of each semester. Gentlemen, what are the four pillars?"

Throughout the pews, uniformed boys (and one girl) rose to their feet, "Tradition, honor, discipline, excellence,"

Claire quickly returned to her seat and her older sister, Meredith, leaned over to her, "Nerd,"

"Shut up,"

"In her first year, Welton Academy graduated five students. Last year we graduated fifty-one. And more than seventy-five percent of those went on to the Ivy League. This, this kind of accomplishment is the result of fervent dedication to the principles taught here. This is why you parents have been sending us your sons. This is why we are the best preparatory school in the United States,"

There was polite applause and Mr. Nolan soaked it up, "As you know, our beloved Mr. Portius of the English department retired last term. You will have the opportunity later to meet his replacement, Mr. John Keating, himself a graduate of this school. And who, for the past several years, has been teaching at the highly regarded Chester School in London,"

The crowd applauded once again.

After a quick meeting with Mr. Nolan, Claire said goodbye to her parents and sister, then took her luggage and set off across the quad to find her room.

Claire was a beauty. She had long, red hair that never curled or waved in the same way twice. With a tall and slender body, it was no wonder that, as the only girl at an all-boys school, she got more attention than any other girl her age. Her pale skin went without a flaw — aside from a bit of stress acne around her chin that usually popped up around exam time — and her green eyes commanded the attention of anyone around her, framed by tortoiseshell glasses.

Claire pushed through the crowd of students and parents to find her room, right across from her friend's.

"Hey, Neil!"

The boy looked up, searching for the source of his name, "Hey! How was your summer?"

"Oh, you know, hunting men for sport and writing socialist prose, the usual,"

Neil smiled, "I wouldn't expect anything less,"

"Yeah. I'll be over in a sec, I gotta unpack,"

Neil nodded and Claire disappeared into her room to unpack her suitcases.

Neil was rather handsome. He had healthy brown hair that was never parted the same way twice. His eyebrows were thick and expressive, and he had high cheekbones and a strong jawline.

Claire haphazardly unpacked her things and threw them into a dresser with the promise to herself to properly fold them later.

She then went across the hall to properly greet her friend.