Playing Koi (24) (Patreon)

Jemma had more notice than most about what was going to happen to the aquarium. It wasn't as though she asked any fish for permission—Algaegard had no authority high enough to decide whether they should go to another world. Maybe they would resist the change, maybe they would embrace it. 

But now they wouldn't find out, because that decision was being made for them. After lifetimes trapped, the fish of the aquarium would finally swim free.

There was still some part of Jemma that wanted to stay, the same part that was terrified of the real world and legs and air and eating human food again. Could she go back to her old life after so long? Leaving also meant saying goodbye to the fish she had come to know, and not being there for the Gold Quarter's institute.

Either way, time would go back to the way it ought to be. No more loops, no more having to watch everyone else get old around her. Barring whatever magic Kisten had left when they were back in the high and dry.

That wasn't to say that no one knew what was about to happen. Seven fish in the aquarium had to choose between Earth and whatever the new ocean might be like, never to return. Five of those had decided to stay.

Jemma didn't want to tell very many fish about her plans, or else risk some panic or opposition against Kisten. She might not like the timing, but Jemma agreed with Nerissa on the important things. A civilization shouldn't be trapped in a shopping mall. They needed an ocean of their own.

She visited her other surviving child, one last time, and talked with Sean about the world that used to be. What kind of mother would Jemma be if she didn't offer him the same chance that Melody had. Kisten would take some time out of the lab for something that important.

Sean was very old, one of the oldest fish she knew. His eyes didn't work right, and his scales were all white. He could only swim short distances. Yet he still knew her voice and listened from his hospital bed when Jemma spoke to him.

"You know a fish who can give me another life," he said, when she had explained everything. "No chance of failure, it doesn't hurt anyone. Just like that?"

"Just like that," Jemma agreed. "I have to ask now, because we won't be here for much longer. I'm... going."

Sean might not be able to see anymore, but he still looked towards her when he spoke. "Finally found your door, Mom? After all this time."

She nodded. But of course, he couldn't see that, so she continued. "You could get out of the hospital to see me off. Be with my... great-grandkids for me, when I'm not around anymore."

Sean sighed, settling into the bed. "Without Fiona. You couldn't bring this offer a year ago? Then we could've both..."

Jemma winced. "I'm not the one who can do it. It's a goldfish I used to know. She wasn't here."

"The one you... talked about." He reached towards her with one pale, shaking hand. Jemma took it and squeezed. "I want to be with Fiona. See Dad again. And Ryan. I feel them waiting for me. My immortal mother wants to keep me from them."

She held on tighter, as firm as she dared. "I want you to be happy, Sean. If you live long enough, you might see me again. One day I'll learn the right spell, and I'll be able to visit."

Probably. What Jemma saw of Kisten's Worldgate notes were so complex as to terrify her.

"One day," he sighed. "If I refuse, will you be angry? Will you force me?"

"No." She reached over, brushing his hair. Her voice cracked, and hot tears vanished into the aquarium. "But I'll miss you. And I won't understand why."

"You're too tough." He shifted, lying back in the bed. He closed blind eyes. "So few of the fish I... so few are here now. They're waiting for me. Remember me, Mom. When you think about living in Algaegard. When your immortal life ends, maybe one day we'll see you. If not, I—I'll take good care of them. Promise."

Jemma didn't have to rush across town to bring Kisten to the hospital. By the time Jemma left, her son was already gone.

Everywhere she went, Jemma cut more threads. She planned everything she could for the school, she wrote letters to the fish she still knew, all set to be delivered after the day of her departure. When the final day came, there was only one still left to bind her.

Most fish could tell that something was different. Kisten's work filled the water with energy that built like pressure, producing strange sensations against the scales and skin. Most of Algaegard's fish lacked the context to understand these sensations, and just avoided the whole tank.

The reverse was true for goldfish, which began to congregate in slightly larger numbers. Even survivors of Thetria's fall, with no direct magical education, still felt the presence of magic as a positive, drawing them in as though they'd been riding the current.

Some of them approached the workshop to ask what was happening inside, but most lacked even that level of comprehension. They could feel something important was coming and wanted to be close to it.

The academy would have no classes that day, given how many of its students and staff had some connection to events.

The new workshop had sturdy coral walls, with only a single window positioned directly under an aquarium light, made from the thickest plastic they could find. There was only one door, with a pair of heavily armed goldfish at the entrance. One eyed the box Jemma carried, gesturing for her to open it.

"No danger," she said. "Just... personal effects."

"Checking for magic," he said, in his silent way. "Could interfere, destructively."

There was no magic inside, just a heavy binder that now held her personal memorials of her life in Algaegard. Some were illustrations she had done or commissioned from talented artists. Then in back were the scales, along with the portraits and memorials of each. 

Jemma had no vast magical secrets to bring with her, no spellbooks or valuable machines. Anything she'd built was probably an inferior version of something she could get more easily just outside. 

The goldfish flicked through the book for less than a second, then floated away again. "Go on, Jemma. They're waiting for you."

There were only two rooms in the workshop—the entrance, with storage shelves filled with raw materials and supplies for whatever magic the fish inside required. A large group of fish had transformed it into a sort of waiting room, with a large table of snacks and some simple decorations hanging from the ceiling.

All said the same thing: “Have a Nice Trip!”

Jemma met her daughter first, dropping her box to give the fish a tight hug. Melody now looked a lot like Jemma, except for the blue in her tail and the missing limb. Despite eagerly accepting Kisten's offer, she refused any suggestion of repairing her damaged limbs, clearly seeing them as part of her in the same way Kisten did with her curse.

"Doesn't feel real, Mom. Going away forever."

She held on a few seconds more. "Will you miss the giants walking around that much? Frozen in place for years, making the same face so long you hang up a painting to cover them up."

Melody giggled, adjusting her glasses. Kisten had restored her, but not the glasses. They were still old, metal twisted and corroded. That glass could probably use another polish. But they wouldn't be getting it today.

"I meant you, Mom," she said, exasperated. "Not going with us."

Jemma hugged Misty too, with almost the same closeness she had for her daughter. Arlo and Nicole were both here, and family if not by blood. Misty couldn't speak audibly of course, but Jemma could still understand her just as clearly. "You know we'll miss you forever," she said. "Nothing we ever do can repay."

Jemma shrugged. "It means the world that you're all still here. I don't have to lose sleep wondering whether those goldfish will be taken care of. They get to be part of Algaegard."

"I would've done it anyway." Brady approached her next. As an ancestor herself, she didn't need any of Kisten's magic for more useful years with the school. She could keep at it for as long as Nerissa decided to extend her gifts. "You're the one making a mistake." She flicked her tail towards the single window over their heads, and the lights beyond.

"Life isn't out there. I barely even remember those people anymore." She reached sideways, squeezing Nicole's wrist. "These are the ones who matter. You should know that as well as I do."

She did know it, of course. That was exactly the problem—part of her still wanted to stay! "Not all of them. For most fish, I did everything I could. But there's one I let down, and she's leaving. I won't let her down again."

Despite her threats, Kisten hadn't gone so far as to make Arlo and Nicole back the way she remembered. He didn't suffer that indignity, instead they both looked about Jemma's age. Kisten was dangerous, but she could be reasonable too, if she wanted.

"Thank you for going with her," Arlo said. "I wish Mother would stay. But I can see she will be happier if she does not. She needs to go back to where life was simpler, and she wasn't old and sad and cynical. She can't swim through these waters without being reminded of what she saw in Thetria. But if she went alone..." He released Jemma. "Care for her, Jemma. Treat her wounds, if you can."

She nodded tearfully. Jemma would have a lifetime to figure out whether those injuries were her fault, whatever that meant. Maybe when Kisten was finally back to herself, Jemma could let go. "Have you already—"

Nicole wrapped both arms right around Jemma's waist, hugging her as she had when she was much smaller. "Swim safe up there, Jemma! Don't get killed by any predators. When you're big and slow and stuff."

She patted Nicole's back. "Promise I won't. Sorry you never got to go to college like your mom wanted."

Nicole tilted her head to the side. "Thanks to your girlfriend, I get to teach at one! Why would I want to just visit?

Jemma opened her mouth to answer and found she didn't have anything to say. She let go, then floated away from them. "This isn't goodbye forever, I hope. Kisten and I will find a way to visit one of these days. Maybe when we're older, ready to retire." She looked down, shifting her weight to either side in the water. "Not excited about walking again, to be honest. Hope I still remember how."

She drifted into the hall leading down, scooping up her box again as she went. The swirl of water told her a single fish had followed—Melody.

Jemma turned in the water, watching her. 

"Are you sure you can't convince her to stay?" she asked. "If she stayed, then you would, right?"

Jemma took her hands in hers and squeezed. "I could convince her. But I know she wouldn't be happy here. Maybe one day, but not now. I'm sorry."

Melody hugged her again, one real arm and one mechanical. She held on for a long time. She let go, eyes bloodshot and voice shaking. "Before you go—can you leave us a scale? For your memorial. There are a lot of fish who will want to..."

Jemma nodded. Losing a scale was typically a painful process for her, she didn't shed and grow new ones except when something hurt her. She found a nice round, white one within reach, and yanked. 

Pain briefly surged through her, and a little trickle of red blood emerged from the gap. She held it out towards Melody. "If I ever come back, you have to take it down. Deal?"

"Deal." Melody took it, then darted away through the water.

Jemma squeezed both hands into fists, fighting the desire to swim after her. She couldn't stay, no matter how much she might want to. It was time to dry off.