The Golden Feronia motors out of the ghostwater, leaving behind the empty islands crowded with ghosts washed up on the shores, and putters on through the line of lighthouses into clear blue safe waters once more. This island is very green and has the same scattering of ruin columns and structures scattered about, but lacks the jungles of the Aquifer.

Pavel: I promise. I just hate that I can’t do anything to help them.

Vanna: I know. Someday, we’ll find a way to fix things. For now, just try to stay alive - we need more people like you! When you grow up, your passion for the sea would make you an amazing Lodestar. Why not save your energy until then, hm?

Pavel reached up and tugged his headdress lower over his face, closing the jaws a little more so that he didn’t have to look at his mother. Vanna smiles at him and motors on towards the docks.

Pavel: Yeah, you’re right. It was a dumb idea.

Vanna: No… Don’t put yourself down… Just learn and move forward, like always. And you can’t feel too bad looking at THAT, can you?

Pavel reaches up and opens the jaws of his headdress, staring, wide eyed, at the island of Grand Physalia- all dressed up in its festival best. There are rolling green hills with every square foot covered in colorful tents. There are stripes and solids, big top and lean to tents. Each one has lights strung between them, promising to banish the night for as long as it takes for the party to end. In the trees are a motley collection of lanterns, pennant flags, streamers, and banners. In the sky is a collection of round balloons in a variety of colors and patterns. A trail winds up the hills from the docks and under a stately white gate dressed in blue and purple streamers for the occasion. At the top of the hill, the path ends at a grand building, white and almost pointed with a round spire at the top and silver wing like designs stretching out to the sides.

Caption: Grand Physalia: Shrine Island of the Plume Church