The Five Realms

Chapter 27: Joey VI

Chapter 27: The Light Within the Darkness

The tunnel breathed.

Not with air, but with memory—a soft, waiting pressure against Joey's skin, like a chapel before the first hymn. Cold stone surrounded them, veined with dark root and ancient rune. Every step echoed like it was being judged.

Joey gripped the carved walls and stared ahead into blackness. The silence made his ears ring. Behind him, Chyna adjusted her sword strap. Ahead, Arya stood motionless, her emerald eyes calm and commanding.

"Repeat after me," she said. "Garjzla, nosu tauthr."

Joey hesitated. His mouth was dry.

He thought of the crucifix that used to hang beside his bedroom door. Of whispered prayers before sleep. Of wondering if he was praying wrong—or worse, not believing enough. And now here he was, standing in the bowels of the world, about to speak a language that bent light and shadow to human will.

He wanted to say, God, if you're still with me, I need you to understand I'm not replacing you.

Instead, he whispered, "Garjzla, nosu tauthr."

The magic didn't wait.

It slammed through him like sunlight cracking stained glass. His breath caught as his hand lifted, unbidden. White fire spiraled out from his palm—not flame, but light made dense, humming like a living chord struck on some celestial harp.

Chyna gasped behind him. Arya gave the smallest nod.

The orb hovered just above Joey's hand, a radiant sphere no bigger than a baseball but so bright it sent shadows scuttling like roaches.

"Whoa," Joey breathed.

The light pulsed in sync with his heart. Faster when he panicked. Slower when he focused. He didn't need to hold it—it wanted to stay, like it knew its place had always been with him.

He turned, awe stretching across his features like sunrise.

Chyna beamed. "Joey... you did that."

"I... yeah." He blinked, then grinned. "I really did, didn't I?"

Arya stepped closer, her voice calm but threaded with reverence. "This is your first spell of true will. Not mimicry. Not reflex. Creation. Your soul reached outward, and the world answered."

Joey's fingers trembled slightly as he lowered his hand. The orb stayed aloft, casting long shadows down the tunnel. A warm breeze stirred his curls.

He had conjured light.

Not a match, not a bulb. Light.

For a moment, he just stood there, surrounded by friends, his sister, and silence—and felt... real.

Not just a survivor. Not just a passenger.

A flame that the darkness could no longer swallow.

The orb of light floated ahead of Joey's chest now, casting its glow in widening ripples down the corridor. What had seemed like old stone walls were anything but.

The light revealed runes etched in silver and gold, curling like ivy around scenes carved in shallow relief. Dragons with wings folded in sleep. Riders standing in circles, arms raised together. Trees grown from flames, their roots grasping stars.

"Joey," Chyna whispered, stepping beside him, "you seeing this?"

"Yeah..." His voice came out hollow, reverent. "It's like... it's like walking through a dream somebody buried."