Honor, Love, Glory.

These three tenets are the foundation upon which Andronicus was built. Since time immemorable, it has been the sacred duty of seven students to protect these tenants. The seven heavenly heads of Andronicus.

“Sure is taking a while.”

The tired looking boy with the mop top lounging in the corner could not sound more bored. He reclined back in his chair by the door, spinning the red bishop from a chess set in his fingers. Tyler Guinness, president of the chess club and student council treasurer.

“It’s your own fault for showing up early.”

The second to speak up was an spirited girl with a straightforward, matter-of-fact tone. She wore a gi, pristine white, but heavily worn with several black belts tied over one another. She was Valerie Nico, captain of every martial arts team and head of the disciplinary committee.

“Why are… we here anyways? Something important… I hope.”

The third spoke with soft, drawn out words, as if in a perpetual state of battle with unconsciousness. She wore overalls over her regular school uniform, into the pocket of which was tucked a pair of gloves and a trowel. She was Mauri Michaels, president of the gardening club and the literature club.

“I will become upset if that is not the case. My time is valuable.”

The next girl spoke with an impertinent hook in her voice to match her meticulously styled hair and lavish modifications of an expensive copy of the regular school uniform. At her side was strapped a rapier just as sharp as her tongue. Her name was Felicia Belafonte, captain of the Andronicus fencing team.

“All of our time is valuable. I doubt we were called without reason.”

The frightfully tall guy with broad shoulders sat as unwavering as the trophy figures adorning the display case behind him. He dressed in nothing but the Andronicus required uniform modified only to account for the disparity between the breadth of his shoulders and waist; he cropped his hair safely within regulation and didn’t bother with accessories. He was Tyrone Jagger, captain of the football team, star of track and field, and head of the sports department.

The thin guy at the end of the table remained silent, utterly indifferent to the discourse going on around him. He was dressed neatly in a school uniform that swapped out Andronicus red for navy blue and was groomed immaculately, from his finely combed hair and polished glasses to his recently shined shoes. He was Alexander Chapelle, vice president of the Andronicus student council. He sat upright, industriously typing away on a computer.

Right on time, not a single second early or late, the door swung open. Her unmoving expression carried with it the authority of a general, and her tight posture the elegance of a king. Her glimmering black hair was tied up neatly, without a follicle out of place, except for a single lock which she allowed to flow over the rim of her thin-framed glasses. The rest of the students stood as she entered and only sat once she initiated the meeting. If her navy blue uniform didn’t betray her identity, the commanding aura she emitted did. She was Alette Camille. Student council president, and supreme authority of Andronicus Academy.

“Thank you all for coming.”

“I certainly hope there was a purpose to calling us out of nowhere,” Felicia sneered, adjusting the position of her sword on her belt. “I have better things to do than wait on trivial matters.”

“Miss Belafonte, that is not the tone to take with the student council president,” Alexander reprimanded in a stern, mechanical tone.

“Calm down, Alexander,” Alette quickly and calmly motioned.

“Yes, miss president.” He adjusted his glasses.

“I apologize for summoning you on such short notice. I know you all have important matters to attend to.”

Felicia turned up her nose and looked away with a haughty, “Humph.”

“I don’t really care one way or another,” Mauri remarked with aloof indifference.

“But the issue that has come to my attention is no small matter,” Alette continued. She motioned to Alexander and at the push of a button the lights went down and a projector switched on. Displayed upon the screen was a student’s profile, the subject a boy with wild mane of hair, a mischievous grin, and a dangerous look in his eye.

“A transfer student?” Valerie asked after a yawn. “Why do all seven of us need to be here? Even in the worst case, more than two seems like an overreaction.”

“If Miss Alette says it needs all of our attention, then it does,” Tyrone stoically replied.

“The madam president has not been one to overreact,” Tyler added offhand while he turned a rook in his hand. “Historically speaking.”

“How is he any different from the hooligans we’ve seen before?” Valerie stated, unimpressed.

“He’s good looking,” Mauri observed amusedly, resting her chin on the table.

“I doubt this one is even worth my attention,” Felicia scoffed.

“Looks are often deceiving,” Tyrone retorted.

“He is dangerous,” Alette assured. “We have all devoted ourselves to upholding the tenants of Andronicus Academy. If we let our guard down even for a moment, it will only take one to undo everything we’ve worked toward.”

“Must be pretty special to get you riled up, miss president,” Tyler said inattentively.

“Humph. If you really believe he is a threat, we may as well deal with him immediately,” Felicia said haughtily.

“No, Felicia,” Alette commanded. “Regardless of the threat he poses, it is against our code to enact judgement without an offense. Allow him the opportunity to abide by the laws we work so hard to uphold. When he makes the first move, come down on him with the full force of Andronicus.”

“It’s nothing we haven’t done a thousand times before,” Valerie said unenthusiastically.

“And we will do it a thousand times again if and when we must,” said Tyrone.

Felicia sneered, but did not protest. Not out loud.