Goldie Bubbles's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Goldie Bubbles spread another blueprint across her worktable, her fishbowl head catching the lamplight as she leaned closer. Her fingers traced the measurements for the ring toss game, checking each angle for the third time that night. She'd sketched every detail of her future game stand—the dancing shell game, the self-spinning wheel, the floating ring toss targets. The grand festival in Vibrant Vale was her chance to prove she could run an honest operation, the most popular stand at the whole event. Maybe then the curse would break, and her goldfish head would finally disappear. Planning wasn't enough anymore. She needed to test if her ideas actually worked. Goldie pushed back from the table and grabbed her tools. By dawn, she'd built the ring toss stand in the clearing behind her workshop. The circular frame stood tall, painted in blues and golds that matched her scales. She'd carved the words "Ring Toss" across the top and arranged six wooden rings on the counter. The floating targets bobbed at different heights, held by thin wires she'd calculated to swing just right. She picked up a ring and aimed. It sailed through the air and caught on the middle target. The mechanism worked. Her hands trembled as she set down the ring. This was real now—not just sketches, but an actual game that people could play. For three days straight, she tested every angle. The targets needed adjustments—too much swing made them impossible to catch. She shortened two wires and lengthened one. Better. She threw rings until her arms ached, recording each result in her notebook. Fifty-three throws. Thirty-one hits. The odds felt fair, not rigged like her old carnival tricks. On the fourth morning, she stood back and studied her work. The mermaid ring toss stand was only the beginning. She'd need more games, each one tested and perfected. But this proved she could build what she'd drawn. The festival booths would shine with gem-bright colors, and her stand would be the one everyone remembered. She pulled out fresh paper and started sketching the wheel of fortune. The walk into town took twenty minutes. Goldie carried her notebook tucked under one arm, her tail dragging slightly in the dirt. She needed to see the festival grounds, measure the booth spaces, understand where people would walk. A light post stood at the town center with a bright poster nailed to it. She stopped and read the announcement—booth assignments, festival rules, setup dates. Her name appeared on the list. Booth seventeen. The festival was six weeks away. She pressed her palm against the poster, feeling the rough paper under her scales. Six weeks to build three more games and paint her booth in colors bright as jewels. Six weeks to make everything perfect. She turned and headed back to her workshop, already planning tomorrow's build.