The Five Realms

Chapter 11: Beanca I

Chapter 11: The Hidden Name

Beanca Stark walked beneath the live oaks of Anastasia Island, her backpack shifting slightly with every step. Inside, nestled between a rolled-up hoodie and a tin of tuna she'd stolen from the pantry, her dragon purred.

Emeraldsa.

The name had come to her in a half-dream the moment the egg hatched—a whisper that wasn't hers, but also wasn't entirely not. Since Thursday night, her sense of self had split in strange, beautiful ways. Some mornings she woke up with images not from her own dreams: a sky seen from above, the flick of an unfamiliar tail, the taste of mist on scales.

Now, walking alongside Fate through the weekend quiet of St. Augustine, she could feel Emeraldsa humming beneath her shoulder blades. Not physically—psychically. Like a sixth sense speaking not in words but impressions.

"Yours sleep okay?" Beanca asked, nodding toward Fate's bag.

Fate nodded. "She nested in my socks. Claimed them like a dragon hoard."

Beanca smirked. "Mine tried to eat a houseplant. Then got mad when it wasn't steak."

They passed the corner bakery. Cinnamon and rain still clung to the air. Beanca's sense of smell had sharpened since bonding—another quirk she hadn't dared mention aloud yet. She could practically taste the sugar glaze in the breeze.

"I keep having flashes," she murmured. "Not just dreams. Like... I'm seeing through her sometimes. Like we're sharing a lens."

Fate looked thoughtful. "I've had echoes. No full visions."

"It's not scary," Beanca said. "Just... not mine."

They crossed the last block toward Steven's street. Emeraldsa stirred in her bag, talons clicking against the zipper like a nervous tic.

"You think we're changing?" Beanca asked.

Fate didn't hesitate. "Already have."

Steven was waiting under the moss-draped tree near the corner gas station, a backpack slung low over one shoulder and a scowl that deepened every time a car honked nearby.

"Ladies," he greeted, adjusting his grip. "If one more tourist tries to photograph me like I'm a local attraction, I swear I'll go full dragon."

"You are kind of a cryptid," Beanca said, bumping his shoulder.

Steven rolled his eyes. "Thanks."

As the three fell into step, Beanca noticed the shift immediately—her backpack vibrated slightly. So did Steven's.

"They can sense each other," she murmured.

Steven nodded. "Yeah. Mine got jumpy the second I stepped out. Like it knew."

"I think they do," Fatina said, tone soft. "Like... they're a pack."

Beanca glanced at her. "Like wolves?"

"Like something older," Fate said.

They kept walking.

A moment later, Beanca's vision tilted.

Not dizzy. Displaced.

The sidewalk shimmered. For a heartbeat, she wasn't looking forward. She was looking down. From above. From wings.

She blinked. Her heart thudded.

"Beanca?" Steven said, catching her elbow.

"I'm fine. I just... think Emeraldsa wanted me to see something."