The Five Realms

Chapter 46: Joey IX

Chapter 46: Brand New Day

Joey still couldn't believe how clean his hands felt.

After three days of flight and five without a real shower, the guest house bathroom might as well have been holy ground. The soap had smelled faintly of citrus and juniper—someone's idea of what Riders should smell like, probably. He'd washed twice. Just in case.

They'd only been given an hour and a half to clean up and change. A "quick reset," someone had called it, before their audience with the High Council.

Joey had expected marble halls, banners, maybe a red carpet rolled out for drama. He hadn't expected this.

The guest house was carved into the slope of one of the city's lower tiers, tucked between two spiraling skybridges that shimmered with runes and rain-reflected light. Its roof was dragon-accessible, its walls spell-folded to be larger on the inside. Three bedrooms. Three bathrooms. One living room styled with minimal elf-chic aesthetics that made Joey feel like he should take his boots off every time he walked through it.

The moment he stepped into the mirror's line of sight, something in him slowed. Not fear. Not awe, either.

Just weight.

Rohan rested on the rooftop roost, his silhouette faintly visible through the upper atrium. The dragon had said nothing since they landed. But his presence lingered in the back of Joey's thoughts like a held breath.

He pulled the new clothes over his shoulders—simple black tunic and deep green cloak, both lined with flexible armor-threads and Rider insignia he didn't yet recognize. They were soft. Warm. Fresh.

Too fresh.

He rubbed the leather bracelet at his wrist—old, worn, still faintly smoke-scented. His father had made it. Maria never asked him to take it off.

Speaking of.

She knocked once, then entered without waiting. She didn't have to speak. The look on her face said everything.

Time.

Joey nodded.

Steven was already waiting in the common room, muttering to himself as he tried to flatten a collar that refused to stay down. Beanca stood beside the door, cloak fastened, dragon-eye pendant swinging faintly at her chest. Fate leaned against the wall, humming something that sounded half-spell, half-prayer. Chyna adjusted her braid without a word.

No one spoke.

Not until the front door opened and Maria stepped aside for them to pass.

"Let's go," she said softly.

Transition – Into the Heart of the City

The walk to the council chamber wound through the heart of the Human District, then up the hill toward the city's center.

Joey tried to track the route—lantern-lit bridges, rune-etched garden walls, dragon-roost balconies carved into rooftops—but the details slipped from him. The stone glowed faintly beneath their boots. Magic hummed in the air like pressure before a storm.

Citizens passed them on the wide streets—elves in silver robes, dwarves in runic exo-armor, a pair of urgals leading their dragons through a sun-dappled plaza. Most stepped aside with subtle nods. Some whispered.

Joey didn't look back.

He kept his hands tucked into his cloak sleeves. The Gedwëy Ignasia on his palm itched faintly with each step. Rohan followed in low flight overhead, casting shifting white shadows over rooftops.