The spiraling currents grew stronger.
Not enough to drag Gilbert away — just enough to make staying still impossible.
“I don’t know which way is right,” Gilbert said, panic flickering at the edges of his thoughts. “I thought… I thought I’d feel it.”
The gold current shimmered brighter, warm and inviting. The blue felt calm, steady, familiar. The violet pulsed softly, uncertain but deep.
Bip chirped anxiously and clung to Gilbert’s shoulder.
As doubt crept in, the water darkened.
The valley’s glow dimmed, not in anger, but in response — like a mirror reflecting Gilbert’s uncertainty back at him. The currents tightened, tugging harder now.
“I can’t—” Gilbert’s gills fluttered wildly. “What if I choose wrong?”
The spiral stone in his pouch vibrated faintly.
So did the memory stone.
Gilbert froze.
Slowly, he tapped the pale stone Grandpa Axol had given him.
Warmth spread through his chest, steady and grounding. Grandpa’s voice echoed in his mind, not in words, but in feeling: Curiosity isn’t about being right. It’s about being willing.
Gilbert took a deep breath.
He looked at Bip, who gazed back with wide, trusting eyes.
“You didn’t choose me because I knew the way,” Gilbert said softly. “You chose me because I moved forward.”
Bip squeaked firmly and pointed at the violet current again — not excited this time, but certain.
Gilbert smiled.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s try the one that feels… unfinished.”
He swam into the violet light.
The moment he committed, the spiraling stopped.
The valley brightened, warmer than before. The other currents faded gently away, as though satisfied.
Bip bounced in triumph, bonking his head on Gilbert’s chin.
They laughed, tension dissolving like bubbles.
And far above them, unseen, something ancient shifted its attention.