Two Eyes Cenote and anything before is nothing

part iii of ???. i'm so sorry if this is too late. <3

aimlessly, helplessly he has wandered; skirting through these unfamiliar territories with paranoia beginning to paint the edges of the vision he carries, cradled tightly to his chest, with the hectic lines of uneven lead pencil strokes.

threatening to dig into the heart of the vision.

into the heart of him; rotten and illbegotten as it was.

dusk has fallen over the cenote; the scrubland painted in the myraid of spilled paint, vibrant pinks, oranges and purples over a rapidly darkening sky.

her scent is here, though. had it been here last time? ingram hesitates for only a moment, fearing that he is imagining it. that perhaps he is doomed to be stuck in this loop; carrying this cursed news like the ones tucked neatly into the book of the dead.

princess? desperation digs it's claws into his chest; icy and sharp. @Toula! he calls out for her, forgoing formality the second time.

her name—said by a voice she fondly recalled. but what was it doing here? were it not for her canvassing the territory to better know it she might not have come across him. a mazoi stood ready to protect, but a gentle touch gave them pause—
Dreadfather, she recalled with warmth. it has been some time! come, I will take you to my receiving chambers—there will be food and drink. you must have traveled far, she marveled at the sight of him. she had not then noticed just how magnificent of a man that he was—only now could she appreciate the man before her! 
she gestured to a fellahin who set off to prepare the room for him, and then she turned to lead the way. I am Hemet-Nekheb now—Godswife… Queen, she explained. where have you found yourself, acolyte of Osiris?

dreadfather.

a name he has not heard in ... a long time. in what felt like centuries though in reality it had simply been months. but time was a strange thing to ingram. it moved out of sync with him and he felt so much older than his two years. ancient, in comparison.

time has been kind to toula. it has helped to blossom her into a stunningly grown woman.

call me ingram, please, he says this softly; lowly. almost a whisper. he draws in a breath to stop her, to refuse the offer of food and drink; ready to feel the obsession that has singularly driven him from seclusion in kvarsheim to her.

but like a beast subdued, it does not rear it's head despite that he has yet to actually give his message.

she tells him of what he has missed: that she is godswife, a queen but not pharaoh and dread fills him; creeping up from his heart like a parasite, winding up his throat.

no — it chokes out of him; startled. though whether it was because she called herself wife or queen against his vision of ma'at ingram hates that he is unsure. toula, the hellhound throws out formality, wanting — no needing — her to listen to him.

ma'at has come to me, has shadowed my steps and commanded my mind. he has ceased walking, fearing that he is no longer welcomed ... that he may not be after he shares what he has travelled into these unknown lands to tell her.

he pauses in his step, and she hears the anguish in his voice that twists at her heart. she turned, slowly, one of her guards at the ready in the event there was a need. but Toula did not sense that from him—there was no animosity or hatred, 
but there was fear. and fear could make many a wolf behave wrongly, and her own trust went only so far. something in his aura, though… his very presence… perhaps it was not his own fear but—
the name! you know Her, she starts, voice filled with awe and wonder. and then she smiles—gesturing again to her side. my Gods have a great love for you, Ingram, she respected his wish, but wondered if he understood the intimacy of it. I will of course hear what She has told you. the Gods wait for no one, her turquoise gaze glittered, and she begins to step toward the receiving room once more. 
she expected now they both might appreciate its comforts.

in a sense..., ingram hedges, thinking of the owl feather he carries among his threadbones. a feather of ma'at, collected during his brief time in akashingo. i am not sure about love. interest? possibly.

but that was not why he was here!

tentatively, he follows her to her receiving rooms; feeling like as if he were a stray invited into a palace. a place where a harbinger of death and destruction did not belong.

you must ascend as pharaoh, he fixes his seaglass gaze upon her; taking in her face. watching. waiting, perhaps. with your chosen who is to become your king consort of the red sands.

these words, mostly, mean nothing to him. a retelling of words conjured from the vision haunting him since the night ma'at had given it to him. it has to be so, to defy ma'at ... is bring about great calamity. to you. to your people.

I think it is both, she said with a smile. and while her love was a kind thing, that of her Gods might not always be—it depended, of course, upon the God. 
he has paused; she slows to turn and look at him, and she can see the things that he feels then. no fear—only calm certainty, despite the words being some sort of omen. an ill one, if not heeded. 
Ma’at. Toula would never defy Her. nor would any in this palace, if they knew what was good for them! there is much I must share with you, she says, stepping nearer to him, looking over his features. 
come—we are almost there. I will tell you of Ma’at, and of my future, she continues to walk, now, her steps slow and steady. the Gods spoke him—but who else?

she does not seem overly worried about the condition ingram brings her and for a moment, the hellhound almost stutters over himself. he composes himself quickly, but settles for a simple brow furrow; following along in her wake. it has been some time since he's first had the vision that has haunted him so —

perhaps, he is late to deliver it.

and perhaps, he will suffer for it.

he draws in a breath; more cautious now despite that he trusts toula.

perhaps ma'at has tired of waiting for me to make the journey to you. he speaks it in a lighthearted tone that does not reflect well the barbed wire snaking its way 'round his heart.

Toula cannot help but laugh at the joke, well-meaning as it was, for the truth in it. Ma’at demanded to be heard! 
arriving to the receiving room, Toula gestured toward the furs that decorated the floors and the food that lay atop edible plants, curated thoughtfully. she had remembered her days as a guest of his, and the things he had seen hunted for her were made delightful to look upon—and taste!
first, I suppose I shall tell you of my own news. I too have been visited by the Gods in dreams. signs have been brought forth. your words are true—I must become Pharaoh. my coronation day comes soon, and now that he is here! I should love for you to attend. and if… if you have any guests you might like to bring with you, they would be welcome, she smiled at him. she remembers @Ash Paw with great fondness.

as she speaks that she has been told of this too, in dreams of her own, ingram settles against the furs across from her. ingram ultimately finds relief in her words and lets it soothe out the tension in he's been carrying in his shoulders for what felt like many moons. it takes a while to soothe the very worst of his paranoia but now that it has, he begins to feel more at ease.

i look forward to attending. speaks ingram simply; letting off the fact that he has no guests to invite. he supposes, she doesn't know that he and ash paw have been separated for some time now and that it had not been a happy occurrence. and ingram, uninterested in dredging up the past as it did not serve him to do so, leaves it.