Traveling through the glowing valley felt like swimming through a living constellation.
Rivers of luminescent algae flowed beneath Gilbert and Bip, weaving gentle paths through fields of crystal-veined stone. Every movement stirred light. Every fin flick left a brief, shimmering echo behind it.
“This place is incredible,” Gilbert whispered, afraid that speaking too loudly might wake it.
Bip squeaked softly in agreement, then immediately tried to bite one of the glowing streams. It fizzed pleasantly and nudged him backward like a playful reprimand.
As they swam deeper into the valley, Gilbert began to notice something strange.
The light reacted to them.
When he felt confident, the glow brightened. When doubt crept in, shadows pooled gently at the edges of his vision. It wasn’t threatening — just… attentive. Like the valley was watching not their movements, but their feelings.
Bip felt it too. He stuck close now, tail no longer flailing wildly, eyes darting with curious caution.
“This place listens,” Gilbert murmured.
The valley answered with a soft hum that vibrated through the water.
They reached a wide crossing where three glowing currents branched off in different directions. Each shimmered with a distinct color: gold, blue, and soft violet.
Gilbert slowed. “Uh oh.”
Bip peered at each path, tilted his head, then confidently pointed at all three.
“That’s… not helpful,” Gilbert said gently.
The copied map in Gilbert’s pouch didn’t help either. The lines blurred and shifted, as though refusing to settle on one truth.
A low tone rolled through the valley.
The currents began to move.
Not flowing — circling.
The water twisted into slow spirals, pulling gently but insistently. Gilbert’s heart quickened as he realized the valley wasn’t offering paths.
It was asking a question.