Evabelle huddles in the old man's arms at the back of the boat, as the plesiosaur looks down, displeased. The glow of the Red Tide infects the water around him.
Evabelle: ...Yes, Grampa. I promise.
The scene dissolves into a memory in the mind of the same old man, who now lies on a stone bed. A blue pillow props his head up. Six blue feathers - three behind each ear - fan out from his graying hair. He wears the garb of a Plume Priest, and four other Plume Priests and Priestesses surround him. One speaks to another as the other two watch. She holds a bowl, dipping a small towel into it.
The one she has spoken to is Sofia, who sadly looks down on the old man.
The priestess with the bowl places the wet towel on the old man's forehead. His eyes are devoid of the shine of life. A pair of red glasses and the same white bone bell sit next to his pillow. It's Garth.
Sofia reaches a hand toward the glasses and the bell, hovering over them gently.
A blonde priestess approaches from behind, startling her.
Blonde Priestess: Sister Sofia? News from the coast guard...
