"Alright everyone, take a seat and let's begin. Shall we?" Julian asked walking in and closing the door.

We all sat at the table that Henry and Bunny were previously placed only a moment ago, around the table in a clockwise manner it was, Julian at the head, to his right Henry, then Francis, Angelina, Bunny, Charles, Camila, and me on Julian's left.

"Why does the obstinate little voice in our heads torment us so?" He asked looking around the table, "Could it be that the little voice we have in our heads reminds us that we are alive, of our mortality, of our individual souls-which after all, we are too afraid to give up and surrender, but yet I still makes us feel more miserable than any other thing? But, isn't it also pain that often makes us more self-aware?"

He spoke with such wisdom, it was breathtaking.

"Our own-selves make us the most unhappy, that's why we are all so anxious to lose them. Don't you think? Do you remember the Erinyes?"

"The Furies," said Bunny, eyes dazzled and lost beneath a bang of hair.

"Exactly. How did they drive people mad? They raised the volume of their inner monologue, magnified the qualities already present to a great excess, it made people so much like themselves, those around them couldn't stand it." He words flowed like a stream of honey. He had a way with his words it was magnificent.

"Though after all, dare I say, there are not many young people better versed in military tactics." He laughed, "Quite possibly, if you wanted to, you'd be capable to march down to Hampden town and conquer it."

Henry laughed, "We could do it this afternoon with six or seven men."

"How?" Everyone asked except Angelina, I sensed she knew exactly what her brother was thinking and/or about to say, and as if she had read his mind, she continued Henry's thought.

"Well, one person to cut the phone lines and power lines, one at the bridge in Battenkill, one person on the main road out, and one to the north of town." She spoke in a deep sergeant sound of tone, Henry continued, it was like their minds work together on things. When one had a thought, the other would express it to the others. Their minds were the same, yet different views on the world. "Then the rest of us could advance from the south and the west. There's not many of us, so if we scatter we can cover more ground and be able to cut off all other forms of entry." Angelina held her hand out, her fingers spread wide and finished their thought, "and advance to the center of all points." Her fingers slowly formed a fist as she spoke. "Of course, we'd have the advantage of surprise." Henry stated as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Julian laughed, "And how long has it been since gods have intervened in wars of mankind? What kind of hero's would we be?"

"Demigods," said Francis,laughing. "We would sit on thrones in the center of town." He stood up abruptly, his chair fell in the process. He stood on top of the table, his coat blew as he jumped up, it made him look like a crow flying to a nearby power line. Francis grabbed Angelina's hand and pulled her up with him. She let out a small yelp in surprise while Julian laughed with Charles, Camila, and Bunny at the two's antics, Henry shook his head with a chuckle and a smile and I smiled brightly at the two."While local merchants paid tribute," Francis spoke with his fist facing his chest inward.

"Gold. Peacocks and ivory." Angelina said as she got down on one knee and slowly turned with her hand in a outstretched manner and faced us in a counter clockwise circle.

"Cheddar cheese and common crackers more like it." Bunny commented and held a hand out to help Angelina down, Angelina faced the table and did the same that Bunny had done, to Francis. He playfully swatted her hand away. She chuckled at his antics and sat down with following in suit.

Julian continued his lesson, wiping a few joyous tears that fell from his laughing fit, "This is why, Richard most of my class end with petals everywhere," He chuckled. "Bloodshed is a terrible thing." Julian said hastily. "But the bloodiest parts of Homer are often the most magnificent. Angelina would please recite the phrase from Agamemnon?"

"Yes, sir." The sun that carried itself through the window, gleamed onto her face, making her brown hair look like ripened honey, a golden brown color.

When she spoke in Greek, her voice was deeper than her natural deep voice and it played a sweet medley in her voice.

After she recited the verse a brief silence washed over the the room, Henry gave his sister a solemn smile.

"Death is the mother of beauty." Said Henry.

"And beauty's what?"

"Terror."

"Well said Henry, beauty is often, rarely considered soft or consolatory. It's quite the contrary actually. Genuine beautiful is always all the time quite alarming."

I looked at Angelina, her eyes never left Julian's face, listening to every word he was saying. It wasn't until Francis nudged her shoulder and gave a her a slight nod towards my direction, and she caught me staring, a light blush made it's way onto her face. She gave me a smile, then turned towards Francis gave him a look and focused her attention back to Julian.

Francis faced me and gave me a wink and faced Julian too. I blushed at my own embarrassment and faced Julian as well.

"It's a very Greek idea, and a profound one too. Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it. And what is more terrifying and beautiful, to the souls of Ancient Greeks or even our own, than to lose control." I was amazed. Yes, in the past I've had great Greek teachers. But not as good as Julian Morrow. I mean good is is an understatement.

"To sing, to scream, to dance barefoot in the woods in the dead of night, with no more awareness of mortality than an animal! These are the powerful mysteries. If we are strong enough in our souls we can rip away the veil and look at that naked, terrible beauty right...in...the...face; let God consume and devour us, de-string our bones. They'll spit us out whole and reborn. And that is the fire and seduction of pure being."

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After class I made my way downstairs in a dream like state, my head was spinning, acutely aware and conscious.

'Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, quiver before it.' I wrote this in my journal, in big bold letters, before bed that night. I laid down, and 'beauty is terror' running through my mind. Something about that reminded me about the work in art museums, then Van Gogh, then Angelina and with the last thought I fell asleep.