5: Eliot
PoV.: Eliot
The Academy stands before me, a majestic and powerful structure, just like in the manhwas I've read. Towering railguns and massive turrets, capable of launching thousands of rockets in half an hour, give it an air of formidable strength.
As I walk towards the Gymnasium the biting cold immediately forces me to shiver uncontrollably. "This coldness… I don't want to imagine how cold it is in Antarctica," I whisper, gathering courage before taking a deep breath and shouting, "May the Gods help you, Father!" It might be a bit too loud, but I can't care less. Hope lingers that perhaps the Gods will finally heed my plea after sixteen long years of ignoring me.
First when my uncle died after getting crushed under that damned tower and then again when I begged them on my knees not to take my sisters life. But no, they never answered any of my prayers.
My previous grin vanishes as dark thoughts envelop me again. I can't help but dwell on the painful memories—the blame, the sorrow. "I hate being alone," I mutter under my breath, and the white snowflakes descend around me.
But I give myself a slap and try to think of something good so I pause at a window to adjust my appearance. "I can't be looking bad around all the beautiful girls," I muse, rubbing my unruly olive-green hair, which never seems to listen to me.
I take approximately twenty more steps, and the grand doors leading into the gathering spot loom before me. I inhale deeply, focusing on summoning a smile to mask my anxiety and push the doors open.
Before me I see a large hall which holds around two hundred students, and I can't help but think, 'I guess I came in last.'
As I make my entrance, I draw lingering stares from some, no doubt because of my imposing height. I tower above everyone in here at my imposing 7+ feet height.
"Good morning!" I announce loudly, but there is no response. "Awkward," I whisper to myself.
Before I can move a commanding voice demands from behind, "Move," sending a shiver down my spine. I turn swiftly and find myself facing a young guy only a head shorter than me, accompanied by a young girl hauling two large coffers.
The two of them seem to gather everyone's attention.
A peculiar heaviness grips my chest. It's an unfamiliar sensation—perhaps a mix of frustration, anger, and fear. I ponder why I'm feeling these emotions, but questions overwhelm me causing me to remain rooted to the spot.
"I won't repeat myself twice," the guy with golden hair and eyes declares, as if these parts of his body were touched by Midas himself.
Swallowing my pride, I step to the side. "My bad," I mutter with a nervous laugh, "I was just too fascinated by the amount of beautiful people here.", I try to loosen up the tension with my words and it seems to work.
The duo passes by, and I can't resist inspecting them closely. "They are probably rich," I conclude, eyeing the boy's attire—a crimson button up shirt made out of the finest silk I have seen, tucked into his beige trousers. The girl sports similar clothes, but in different shades. The shirt, milky white with golden stripes, creates an almost galaxy-like pattern on her slender form. The midnight-blue trousers she is wearing enhance her looks even more. The sleeves on her shirt are rolled up so her forearms are completely bare.
"These rich kids…" I whisper to myself, before venturing further into the hall in search of friends.
Over time, I manage to engage with some students, though my flaw poses a significant barrier to forming lasting connections. I'm on the verge of tears, feeling lonely as people just either ignored me or answered as dry as humanly possible. But then, I spot the dangerously beautiful duo again on the far end of the hall. They are encircled by a group of students, and the golden boy, gazes in my direction. His eyes seem to inspect me closely, as if assessing my worth. He signals me to join them, his gaze radiating a strange authority.
Without a better option, I hoist my backpack and approach their group. "What's your name, giant?" The boy inquires, displaying a bored demeanor towards the people surrounding him.
"Eliot. And yours?" I reply, a shy smile creeping onto my face, which I try to suppress in favor of appearing serious.
"I am Dante," he introduces himself, "and this girl you were eyeing up the whole time is my servant, Andromeda." His tone remains somewhat cold. "Now, if you want to make up for your rude behavior, how about you tell me about your Aspect? You look like an interesting guy to know."
Blushing with embarrassment, I stammer, "I... I am really sorry." I glance at Andromeda and then back at Dante. "My Aspect isn't really anything interesting. It just makes me good with any weapon I touch. Well, it makes me only slightly above average, if we're being honest."
I thought that Dante would find something about me which would make him dislike me, but for some reason he just smiled.
This damn smile. There was something so alluring about it.
"Not bad, Eliot. We should stick close from now on," Dante declares, reaching out his hand for a shake, which I awkwardly reciprocate. His grip is firm but not overpowering.
As I let go off his hand, I can't help but feel a sense of strangeness. Finally, a friend. After being disliked so much cause of this damned flaw for the last three or so weeks I found someone who spoke kindly to me… well not really that kindly but compared to others he was pretty nice and that's all I need.
Following my Trial in the middle of October last month, my mother has begun to heap blame upon me, and my friends have deserted me. All due to my Flaw, the one that has made me a "Villain" in the eyes of others.
The runes said following:
Flaw: [Villain]
Flaw Description: [People easily dislike you and think of you as a bad person, forcing them to blame everything on you.]
What hurts the most is the way my mother has started to harbor resentment, and my father has distanced himself further from me. I still vividly remember the hurtful words from a week ago after I had a fight with my mother when she has told me that it was my fault my uncle had died. It may have been true, but hearing it from the one person who should love and support me unconditionally has been more painful than anything I've experienced.
Before I can say anything else to the magnetizing couple before me, I hear a voice behind me, "I am awakened Shard. Welcome to the Academy kiddos"