The Five Realms

Chapter 23: Joey V

Joey stood there, rigid, as Eragon moved closer, each step more imposing than the last. The legendary Dragon Rider, their *grandfather*, was someone Joey had heard of only in stories, someone who belonged to a time far before his own, in a world of ancient battles and legendary creatures. The weight of the moment was crushing, and Joey felt it deep in his chest. He stole a glance at Chyna, his sister, standing still just a few feet away. Her expression was unreadable, her face masked by calm, but Joey knew her better than anyone. Beneath that calm, she was trying to make sense of everything just as he was.

But now it was his turn. Chyna had already gone through whatever this test was, a trial of sorts to peer into their intentions. The idea of being judged on something so fundamental made his stomach twist. What if they failed? What if the truth—the thing he had kept hidden even from his sister—was discovered? The questions weighed heavy on him, making his palms sweat as Eragon finally stopped in front of him.

Joey swallowed hard, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears as Eragon raised his hand, placing it gently on Joey's forehead. The moment their skin made contact, Joey felt it—an overwhelming presence creeping into his mind, careful yet impossibly powerful, like an ancient force sifting through the pages of a book.

Eragon's voice echoed in his head, calm yet steady. *"Welcome to Alagaësia, grandson. I'm just taking a look into your memories to better know you and your intentions here. Don't resist. It may break your mind."*

Joey's instincts screamed at him to push back, to resist this intrusion. The idea of someone rifling through his memories, his thoughts—his darkest emotions—was unbearable. **What would he see?** What would Eragon find when he dug deep enough to uncover the truth Joey had worked so hard to bury?

His fingers twitched at his sides as he clenched his fists, trying to keep calm. He was supposed to trust this man—his *grandfather*—but the way Eragon sifted through his memories felt too intimate, too invasive. Joey could feel Eragon moving through his mind with precision, like an experienced surgeon searching for the source of an illness. Images and emotions swirled—his childhood, growing up without his real father, the moments of joy and anger, the sense of injustice he'd carried for years. Joey could feel Eragon growing closer to something, something dark and dangerous that Joey had kept locked away.

And then, suddenly, Eragon's voice sharpened. *"Wait... what is this? Your father—"*

Joey's heart leaped into his throat. **No. No, he can't see that. Not that.**

Without thinking, Joey's entire body tensed. He pushed back—mentally, emotionally—throwing up every wall he could to keep Eragon out. His breath came in short gasps as the pressure in his head increased. **Don't see that!** his mind screamed. He couldn't let Eragon know about the darkness that lived inside him, the festering anger he had carried for years—the thirst for revenge he couldn't shake.

Eragon's voice came again, more insistent this time. *"You have the same darkness as your sister. What are you hiding?"*

Joey gritted his teeth, his mind racing. *"Nothing!"* He fought back, mentally shoving against Eragon's probing presence. The pressure intensified, and Joey's pulse quickened. He felt cornered, like a wild animal backed into a trap. *"You've already seen all my memories!"* Joey's voice came out in a growl, more a plea than a declaration.

But Eragon wasn't backing down. *"It's not nothing,"* he said, his tone steady but probing. Joey could feel the heat from Eragon's hand on his forehead, the intensity of the Ignasia—the mark of the Dragon Riders—burning through him.

Joey's panic surged, and with it, his resistance grew stronger. He could feel the power bubbling inside him, like a pot about to boil over. *"Leave me alone!"* Joey's voice cracked with frustration and fear. *"Get out of my head!"*