Emerald Eyes

A small boy was sitting in class; his desk had many negative comments about him. Plenty were talking badly about his family, others about his appearance, while the rest were just insults thrown without concern for the other.

His emerald eyes moved downwards.

“Monster,”

“Die already.”

"They get worse every day. What did I even do to deserve this? It wasn’t even my fault."

The students around him sat down in their seats. They were all talking to each other among themselves.

He blocked out all the noises, not wanting to hear any of them. There wasn’t a need for him to take in so much negativity, especially from random people who didn't understand him.

A couple of minutes passed as the bell for the morning class rang loudly; the teacher entered the room, a middle-aged woman with a rock-solid face, stiff movement and an angry expression towards the class.

“Everyone, quiet down, we're beginning,” she stated in a demanding voice. There was no room to argue.

Every student did as they were told. They all remained silent, allowing the teacher to scan the room with a satisfied smirk. She began moving her hand across the board, writing down today's class.

“We're learning about advanced algebra, a solid introduction today and a test later on in the week.” She looked back, seeing no complaints or even sighs.

However, she saw a boy with emerald eyes and blonde hair, taller than most, raise his hand. Was it a question or a complaint about the test? It was her job to find out.

“Speak up,” her mouth shutting firmly.

He stood up; the action stunned her slightly before he pointed at his desk, which was written with many condescending and hurtful words.

“My desk has been vandalised.” His voice was tired; this wasn't the first for either of them.

She took a look down; her expression didn't change. “Go clean it. Sort it out yourself; I don't get paid enough to handle your issues and teach.”

Turning back to the board as she began writing down her introduction to advanced algebra, the chalk was screeching sometimes, even due to her harsh, forceful movements.

The boy didn’t budge, however, and instead protested, “I want you to stop it; it's a teacher's duty for every student to be safe in class.”

“Unless you want to be marked down by me, I would suggest a kid like you not talk about duty. We're in our final year before high school. "Don't make it hard on yourself." Her tone was neutral; she didn't really care about them. Just there to teach and leave

He let out a sigh. People were chuckling around him, clearly amused by his protest to let her just go on her day. Whispers filled his ears, while a strong smell of the classroom invaded him as well, suffocating him entirely.

All of them. They don't take me seriously ever. Why do I even bother speaking my mind?

Words started to appear in his vision; they were dancing around him in circles until they multiplied further. They took over all his senses; his ears heard words. His eyes saw words, and he could even smell words.

Just stop already; let me rest.

The attack on his senses continued; he couldn't stop thinking about the words. They took over his entire moment until slowly consuming him; his eyes closed, not wanting to open, and he covered his ears, not wanting to hear. Hoping it would end

Words started to fade over time, relief setting in; he opened his eyes, anticipating it to be over.

“Get up already,” a quiet voice spoke out, displeased.

He left a sharp kick to his side, which jolted a beam of pain across his body, causing him to take hold of his side.

“You even sweated during your sleep.” The voice faded away as the tent was left empty again.

His hands push down onto the floor as he lifts himself sitting down, his head cracks slightly as he turns side to side, his eyes scan his body before he uses one hand to wipe his forehead, a bit of humidity catching on.

That was a pretty bad dream, even in another world; it seems to haunt me.

He lets out a small smile. The thought that he wanted to finally fix a bit of his past was nice to him compared to his usual cowardly act.

We were going to have to summon the goddess, and then I would find a way to isolate Shina with me. I need to grab Toki’s spear for my protection, too.

He reminds himself of his schedule, his knees lift, and he pushes himself firmly off the floor, standing in the tent, his tall size making his head nearly hit the ceiling.

Letting out a yawn, he puts on his school shoes and his school jumper and walks out of his tent.

The clear sky now has its original blue appearance with the bright fake sun made of magic shining down upon his blonde hair; the weather seems to never change in god games. This was their third clear day.

His campfire looked the same as always, with the three logs ready to be positioned for their usual summoning. There was already a fire started as one of the requirements, causing smoke to go into the air and leave a small aroma of burning food.

I will never get used to standing up this early. Shina is definitely dedicated to standing up this early for her goddess.

He walks towards three of his teammates, all of whom were already awake, prepared to do the ritual.

“Shina gave you another good morning,” Toki let out a laugh.

Hiwo rolled his eyes. “Maybe I should tell her to give you ones too, so we're even.”

“I would gladly,” Shina added.

Hiwo lifts his face a bit, his eyes pressing softer. “At least we all seem in good shape after that abominable attack.”

Ayuri nods, standing further away. “Toki is fully healed too now; I checked on him.”

Worst-case scenario, Shina will abandon us after today. Having Toki ready to go gives us a solid chance to at least survive until the end.

“I'm assuming Shina is summoning.” Hiwo glanced over to her with the guidebook.

She nodded before finding the words in the guidebook. She lifted her face towards the campfire, her eyes glistening under the sunlight with slight excitement for her beloved goddess.

Her face only ever changes when the goddess is mentioned. Is there a chance that I can't even convince her to turn away from her frenzy?

Shina chants the summoning ritual, “Goddess of falsity! Come forth and guide your representatives, as promised.”

The smoke darkens, the atmosphere shifts to a more grotesque, darker one, causing their skin to crawl and their spines to shiver; Toki was still the only one available to stand motionless from the effects of the summoning; he never yielded.

Pale skin surrounded by the black peasant dress was the first to be seen; her black hair cascaded downwards while her black hollow eyes stared into their deepest remnants. They had seen her two times already, and her beauty never left their minds.

Her refined figure came into full view as her heels stepped downwards without any logic; a small smile tugged behind a frowning facade, seemingly ready to ring amazing news.