Cheth: Your prophetess isn’t coming, Phaedra. Call for her all you want, but she can’t help you now.
The sea splits beneath Phaedra’s feet where she kneels, showing the skeletons that wait there, the souls who lost their challenge where she won. They mock her and the waves froth, eager to swallow her.
Cheth: But if you want to pray, then by all means, pray! Prayers always make me laugh.
The moon shines silver light down on the scene. Phaedra is crushed, but can’t let herself believe Cheth.
Phaedra: No… I won’t give up on her. She will come. She has to…
Cheth steps closer to Phaedra and the skeleton of a mouse jumps onto his foot, quirking its head at Phaedra where she sits despondent on the ocean’s surface.
Cheth: Oh, stop crying, girl. Instead of sitting there waiting for help, why not stand up and help yourself?
The twins look down at Phaedra, the woman twirling one lock of her hair around a skeletal finger. They know the exact sort of reaction Phaedra is going to have- and the princess obliges, raising her head with tears still fresh in her eyes.
Cheth: What if I told you there was still a way to bring you and your friends completely back to life?