The Cheths lean into the couch, crossing their legs in the same way. The man presses a hand to his chest as he speaks, and the woman upends the wine bottle and begins chugging.
Cheth: First, let me assuage one of your suspicions, Philemon: this relic is unable to resurrect ME. It can indeed resurrect the dead... but ME? I'm not DEAD. My body may have been broken and scattered by the Fracture, but my divine essence remained completely intact.
He summons up some red strings between his fingers like a cat's cradle, grinning his sharp teeth behind them.
Cheth: When you see these glowing scarlet veins of light, you are looking at Cheth himself. And powerful as it is, this treasure cannot reattach my veins to my broken bones. I truly wish it could. But I am far too grand and magnificent to be restored so easily.
Phaedra leans back in her chair, unimpressed.
Phaedra: If only your NIECE had known to cut those things to ribbons. Then we'd have been rid of you for good.
Cheth drops the cat's cradle and looks up, confused.