CHAPTER FOUR: Comets, Kids, and Cartwheels of Snobbery

Southern Road, Just Outside Jozen - Morningish.

Dreams are never polite. They show up uninvited, rearrange your mental furniture, and leave you with a metaphorical hangover. And mine came like a plague.
She was there again - the woman in white. Towering, half-turned toward the sky like she was waiting for it to apologize. Her hand stretched out, reaching for something I couldn’t see.

She looked like a marbled statue. Silver, stoic.Her face remained obscured, like the universe had redacted it for dramatic effect.Then - above her - the night sky burst into a sea of fire. A comet streaked across it, brilliant and brutal. A burning scar of light trailing in silence.
“Save them all,” she whispered again.
No context. No follow-up. Just a cosmic side quest dumped right into my lap. One I knew nothing about.
I watched as the woman turned. Her figure stark against the burning abyss of blues and orange. She moved closer, as if noticing me...
"Save them...all." 

Her voice was louder, distinct. I noticed the frayed quality of it, as if I could hear her through a long tunnel. She came closer, her hand outstretched...reaching for me...
"Save them --"

 ...

"Psssst...Hey...Wake Up!"
I woke up to the sound of Mira’s voice and the scent of dust, and sweat.
“The gates are opening,” she said, nudging me in the ribs with a pointed gentle urgency of someone who’d clearly grown up around small animals or grumpy uncles. 
"You were mumbling about...comets? Budding astrologer, are you Froggyman?"
“Ah,” I said, sitting up and brushing stray leaves off my legs. "No, twas just your average spectral vision from a faceless sky lady. No biggie.”
Mira looked perplexed, shrugged, then laughed. 
"You Frogfolk are one odd lot - but come hurry, we're going to fall behind!"

I turned, joining her into the fray - the dreadfully slow line into the city-kingdom gates.
Time advanced slowly, I had pulled ml out my trusty guide-journal and leaves through the pages. Suddenly I heard the sizzle of the city and I looked over my book.
Then - I saw itJozen. 

The City-kingdom.

I stepped through the massive iron-banded gates of the Outer Ring and immediately got bumped by a child, splashed by a wheelbarrow, and insulted by a parrot wearing an eyepatch.
“Oi, greenie! Watch it!” squawked the bird.
Even from the outer edge, Jozen looked like someone had taken a storybook, dunked it in alchemy, and shaken it dry. Wooden buildings leaned into each other like gossiping neighbors. Ropes hung with drying herbs stretched from rooftops. Floating lanterns drifted above a street corner, tethered by lazy enchantments.
I heard the clatter of copper pans, the sizzle of street food (questionable and delicious) and the distinct musical hum of a bard tuning a guitar made from what looked suspiciously like a turtle shell.
It was crammed.It was chaotic. It smelled like cinnamon, grease, and something that might’ve once been cheese.
I was in love.

“Wow,” I breathed. “It’s like if a fantasy fever dream had a budget.”
Mira chuckled beside me, a travel bag slung over her shoulder and her braid bobbing behind her.

"Hmm - hmm, It’s not much, but the Outer Ring...it's got soul. Welcome to Jozen."
We worked through the winding central street. My eyes darting around each building and figure. Now this is what reincarnation was all about. It was like someone had taken a medieval RPG, slapped on a fresh coat of neon paint, and given it a budget of exactly 4 gold coins and a dream.And somehow… it just worked.
"The whole of Southern Rica gathers here, be it for dreams, jobs or...certain activities. Jozen is the one stop city where any dreams can be achieved, no matter how vast!"
Mira spoke with an enthusiastic mirth, her arms wide open. I felt it, the vast...majesty of it all. But then my awe wobbled slightly. I paused, scanning the crooked skyline and patchwork stalls.
“I don’t mean to sound...judgemental” I said, “but I kind of thought a magical kingdom would look… more better off? Less moldy?”
Mira sighed, her arms dropping, but she seemed prepared for the question.
“Jozen’s beautiful, but not...fair. It's built in rings. Each one spirals inward. The richer, more magically inclined citizens live in the inner rings - closer to the Kings court: Spire and the Council District, as well as the Core Magic Families. The further out you go...the poorer it gets. This is where the craftspeople, dock workers, and most beastfolk live...along with nobody newcomers like us."
“Right,” I said.
So I died, got reincarnated, and landed in the fantasy version of someone’s backyard alley. And a kingdom ruled by an elitist system. Great.

She gave me a sideways look.                  "You’re really not from around here, huh?”
“Let’s say I was born under a bridge..."
Mira smiled, clearly chalking that one up to “frogfolk things” and deciding not to question it.
“But hey...no different from anywhere else, right?” Mira said, nudging me gently with her shoulder, 
I gave her a sideways look.

“Thank you for the reminder. Very grounding.”
We walked a bit further, weaving through the crowd. I caught sight of a few children ducking into a side alley. One of them, maybe seven years old, dug through a crate behind a bakery. They pulled out a piece of bread that was more mold than fluffy white loaf, and immediately tore it in half to share with another more timid kid. They laughed, munching on their treasure.
That one little gesture stopped me cold.

Just for a second, I was back home. Not here in Jozen. Tokyo.Back in a dark alley behind a ramen shop. Rain falling. Daiki and I huddled behind a dumpster, splitting a forgotten carton of leftover ramen. No broth. Just noodles, cold and clumpy. We ate it like it was an emperors feast.
I remembered the way he grinned through chattering teeth and said, “Hey, Jin. Gourmet ramen - for free!.”He’d always made it feel like we weren’t just surviving, we were laughing at the world while we did it.

I stood there too long, caught in the ache of old memories, wrapped in the warm of it.I blinked. Eyes wet.
“Something wrong?” Mira asked beside me.
I shook my head. “Nah. Just… déjà vu.”She looked at me cornered.
"Hey Froggyma--"

Mira’s voice was overshadowed by a booming voice, sour enough to curdle milk.
“Ugh! And Why - pray tell - must I enter through this... stinkhole again? Honestly my god fellow, It should all be razed. Burn the slums and start over. More property for proper folk."
The crowd parted like soup under a spoon as the voice’s owner strutted forward.And I do mean strutted.
He was enormous. Not just big - round. Built like a roast ham wearing a belt three sizes too tight. His face was a twisted carnival mask of smugness: greasy blonde curls cascaded down to a waxed goatee that screamed "manchild - meets - devil."
The devil part was confirmed when I met his cruel eyes that scanned the crowd like he was selecting which commoner to step on. Blue and gluttonous.
His clothes were silk. Deep purple, embroidered with thread-of-gold patterns that probably meant I don’t tip. Velvet cape, polished boots, and a wide-brimmed hat with an honest-to-gods gemstone feather.
Yet what caught my eye was the silver signet ring on his pinky - stamped with a red vertical stripe that resembled a river channel cutting through a field of smoke. I remember recalling that symbol in Frogustus’s Journal...I'd have to remember to check.
A symbol of something, no doubt. Something sinister, knowing his kind.
The man sneered at a pair of beastfolk huddled near a stall - a fox-eared woman and a child with furred arms - and turned his head, half-smiling in my direction like he smelled something funny.
“Burn the beastfolk with the Ring, I say,” he continued, as casually as if ordering a sandwich.

“Vermin with grime.”                                             He smirked.

I didn’t speak.I just stared.Stared hard enough to make my tiny frog body feel ten feet tall. My blood boiled.I felt my fists clench - if frogs had fists.
Mira stepped in front of me slightly, sensing the rising tension like a barometer for sarcasm and bad decisions.

“It’s not worth it,” she said quietly. 
"People like him always have guards. And violence is never the answer...”
The noble's smile widened, cruel and knowing, before he turned back to his caravan and climbed into a lavishly cushioned carriage pulled by sleek, enchanted...Hoverbulls. The wheels didn’t touch the road. Of course they didn’t.As the entourage rumbled away, Mira placed a gentle hand on my arm.
“I wasn’t gonna punch him,” I muttered.She raised an eyebrow. 
“Come on,” she whispered, "We've got a whole city to explore...and a guild to find."
I nodded, but I couldn’t look away at the caravan, blue exhaust dust trailing from the back. I hated his kind. The cruel. 

And if I had any luck left over from my past life...

Then I know that this wasn’t the last I’d hear from him either. 

I turned and worked over to Mira and we delved into the City-kingdom. Onward to the Guild. Huzzah

Welcome to Jozen indeed.

CHAPTER FOUR: END

TO BE CONTINUED ...