Cheth reaches out and splays his fingers against the bonefish mark. In the lighting, his skin is translucent except for beneath his banded tattoos, showing the bones in his arms clearly.
Phaedra: You know you gave yourself away, right? You had no idea about my dad’s secret gifts… so that means you can’t be all-knowing.
While Cheth is totally enraptured, his wide eyed expression reflected on the flawless surface of the bleached altar, Phaedra taunts him, and contemplates her victory, high on relief, and perhaps coming to understand something.
Phaedra: But that doesn’t make any sense… How could a god be so limited like that? I mean, your sister is all-knowing and all-powerful, right? So why aren’t you?
She clasps her hand together and averts her eyes from his vulnerability. Behind her, ghosts are gathering, red lighting up their eyes and red veins pooling around, twining around to connect them all.
Phaedra: I’ve never really believed the rumors- but maybe they were true. Maybe you couldn’t answer my question… because you can’t see anything past the seashore.
In the foreground, Cheth remains silent. The hand he had splayed against the altar is fully bone now, and it’s spread up his arm too, turning half of his face into a skull and the right side of his shirt into tatters. His expression is truly empty, lost in a few centuries worth of loneliness and slow decay, and listening to an impudent little girl figure out his prison sentence.
Phaedra: You can’t go on land anymore, can you, Cheth? You’re trapped down here in the sea.