An outcast spirit with ink-stained hands parts some dark and dense foliage to reveal a misty river and a decorated lich.

"Is this the place?" Sel asks. Gaspare nods his skull and points a skeletal finger upstream at an approaching boat.

Gaspare flips an ancient, golden coin into the air and Sel catches it. The boat soon slides up onto the riverbank and the boatman silently holds out his hand.

Sel looks down at the coin and smiles for a moment, but then looks back, as though seeking one final glimpse of a wild animal in the forest behind him.

"It's all just as I planned," Sel says. "She'll join me, soon. I'm sure of it."

Sel hands the obulus to the boatman and strides aboard before casting an uncharacteristically uncertain glance at Gaspare.

"Ah, dearest Sel. Your show here is over. They'll speak of you for ages, as you have given Thera precisely the performance it deserves."

A proud smile spreads across Sel's features. As the boat shoves off and unearthly mist envelops him like closing curtains, he takes one final bow.