The Five Realms

Chapter 20: Joey V

Chapter 20: Skyward Truth

The meadow shimmered under a gold-tinged morning, the scent of pine dust and old summer heat hanging in the air like memory. Joey stood beside Rohan, whose wings twitched and flicked as if tasting the breeze. He was massive now—bigger than any horse Joey had ever seen—with limbs coiled like tension cables and scales that reflected the sky like fractured moonlight.

"Today's the day, huh?" Joey murmured, pressing a palm to Rohan's shoulder. It was warm—too warm, almost. The dragon leaned in, nosed his jacket, and gave a huff that stirred his curls.

We are ready, Rohan said in that crystalline voice that only Joey could hear. It always came like a whisper through steel, a thought pressed into bone.

Across the clearing, Chyna mounted Lavendel with clinical focus. Her dragon glided forward, violet wings stirring the tall grass. They were nearly airborne already.

"You racing?" she called, smirking.

Joey narrowed his eyes, but grinned. "You're on."

Lavendel launched like a falling star reversing direction. Joey followed, swinging onto Rohan's back with practiced rhythm. The ground blurred, then vanished. Wind slammed against his chest as Rohan vaulted skyward, tail slicing the air like a banner of white fire. The race was chaos—half stunt, half prayer. Lavendel darted, spiraled, cut across his path like she'd been born to defy him. Rohan banked wide, steady, powerful.

Chyna was all sharp turns and flashing eyes. Joey countered with long glides and calculated speed.

At one moment, they were neck and neck—Joey could see her jaw set, her hand tight on the saddle horn. At another, they both dipped low, barely missing the pine tips. Lavendel clipped a branch and tilted dangerously.

Joey didn't even think—just shifted his weight and called: "Up!"

Rohan surged forward. He won by less than a wing's length.

"Showoff," Chyna muttered when they landed, breathless but smiling.

"You love it," he shot back.

The others clapped from the grass. Beanca stood just a little apart from them, her gaze quiet and intense. She looked at him like he was something larger than a boy—something becoming. He caught her eyes and smiled. She didn't smile back, but her mouth softened.

Before anyone could speak, Murtagh stepped forward, silent as always until he wasn't.

"Steven returns from Apalachicola in three days," he said. "When he does, you all need to be ready. Alagaësia won't wait."

Joey felt the breath catch in his chest—not fear exactly, but magnitude. It was real now. No more sparring in secret fields. No more hiding dragons in horse stalls.

They were leaving.

The courtyard buzzed with energy long after the dragons had returned to roost. Lavendel and Rohan had curled side by side, scales glinting in the late sun. Fate sat on a bench nearby, arms crossed, eyes distant. Goldenia lay in the grass at her feet, wings half-furled like a dozing angel.

Joey approached slowly, still catching his breath from the flight. "Hey," he said.

Fate didn't look up. "You looked like you were born to fly."

He tried to read her tone, but it was smooth as glass.

He sat beside her. "You'll be up there soon. Goldenia's got power in her. You both do."

Fate turned to him finally, her expression cracking just enough to let doubt through. "My parents don't even know I have a dragon, Joey. They think I'm still sneaking out to work on church choir pieces."