Blacktail Deer Plateau and there will be pain in letting it go

basilica's fall was not loud; was not a tidal wave of carnage and destruction.

it was quiet. a flame snuffed out in the dark of night.

it did not come as a surprise to ingram, who had foreseen it coming: based on the signs, based on the threadbones.

the only guilt the voidsaint feels is where @Toula was concerned.

it is the princess of akashingo that he seeks now.

Toula has greeted Ra with song; She moves to the place of worship She had created, as much for the Dreadfather as Herself now! it is far quieter here than Akashingo, but it is peaceful. it has not been so long that She missed the loudness of the palace, though Her heart will always yearn for Her loved ones.
in Her mouth were smooth, beautiful alabaster stones She had unearthed. an offering for Osiris; small though it was, He would surely love it upon his growing altar!
the Amiirad sees the figure of the Dreadfather in the corner of Her eye. and so She pauses, placing the things upon the earth and greeting him with a warm, good morning, Dreadfather, and a smile.

ingram finds her at the altars; the sight warming his chest — a slow brush of a flame.

it makes the news he bears all the more disappointing, hoping that she is not too disheartened.

princess, greets ingram in a soft rasp. you may call me ingram, he offers. no longer the dreadfather. there was no point in beating 'round the bush.

unfortunately, the threadbones were correct. basilica is no more.

the Amiirad listens, rapt. he speaks of the way of things, but Toula does not find herself disheartened. in fact, her spine straightens some as the wind stirs. the Two of them stand before the altar of Osiris, and Toula is filled with knowing.
it cannot be coincidence that I have built an altar to Osiris here. that I feel some aspect of Him here, watching Them! Toula smiles, the expression soft. with death comes rebirth, she reminded him of their conversation, and she considered this in silence for a moment. it felt clear that Osiris meant for the Dreadfather—for Ingram!—to know this.
she looks to the alabaster stones. noses some toward Ingram. will You leave this offering, with me? she wondered... hoped!

right. ingram drawls, cool air settling in his lungs. with death brings rebirth.

a repeated mantra.

a dying dusk would give way to a bright new dawn. he has said as much not once but twice. this, he believes.

while there is some sorrow in this death, ingram mostly feels relief.

seaglass gaze studies the alabaster pebbles for a moment: an offering to osiris.

yes, ingram agrees.

the Dreadfather seems to know it well. Toula looks to him and then asks, are you alright?
even if it were the truth—Toula imagined it was something else to contend with, to live with! but her thoughts turn to the present. as he moves to pick them up, so too does Toula; she arranges them neatly upon His place of worship. she waist for Ingram to do the same, before she speaks this hymn to Him:

To Osiris who is lord of the dead, I offer my praise.
Osiris, first son of earth and starry sky,
beloved of Isis who is mighty in magic,
father of Horus who wears the double crown,
Osiris who rules in the great Duat, I pray to you.
O best of gods, O best of kings, so long ago
you sat enthroned in the land of light; so long ago
you fell into the blessed Nile, were immersed
and torn into many parts; so long ago
did Isis and Nephthys gather you together again
and return to you your breath. And yet, once dead,
so must you remain in the underworld. Osiris,
bearer of the crook and the flail, well honored
in Abydos and in Busiris, lord of the black land,
I pray to you, I honor you in all ways.

and She falls silent after, feeling then above all Him surround Them.

hymn credit!

yes. ingram replies sincerely. if anything i feel relief. a quiet admission meant for only her and the gods who ghost to this place.

it has become his confessional.

he is quiet as she sings; words washing over him like a spiritual baptism.

again, the tug of obsession leads him; and he ever prone to it: willingly follows.

he waits a few moments before speaking. if you think you i would be welcomed, i would go with you to akashingo. he looks to her then, to stay remains unspoken but weighs heavy in the silence that follows his words.

what might be said She did not when he spoke those words. she felt that he knew them as much as She thought them in that moment. that this must be meant to be, then. she listened. the Gods listened. even to the things unsaid! the Gods knew.
it was Their strings She followed. and She knew this now more than ever as he spoke next. Toula looks to him then, Her smile warm. you would be most welcome, she felt. did the Gods not all but ordain this? there are many paths in Akashingo. would you come to become a priest? a guard? a prince? for He was royal, was He not? Dreadfather. it was who He was. even if not a recognized God by Her people, he was of import! did Her family not recognize this, to send her to this place?
this was rebirth; he could be who he wished to be! Toula would see it granted. a girl, divine, becoming aware of Her own power. and though She felt She knew, She would never dare to presume—and beyond that, he had much time to decide between then, and now. he need not know the answer; he might only wonder at the possibilities before him, and that was good. for there was even more that existed in Akashingo beyond what she had said—all that might be his!

he feels weightless for a moment; buoyant. he grounds himself a moment later, letting the void keep his mind in the present moment.

it was hard when his natural inclination is to dwell in the realm between.

i don't know, ingram admits. on this, it was hard for him to tell for sure. at least, right now. time and my threadbones will reveal my path.

the younger of the two nods, thinking how She would like to discover and know these bones, too. and also knowing this one was willing to learn the ways of Her culture. that in mind, how could he not be welcome? and with her this day he had given to Osiris.
ah, She will need to gather Her things! the journey is not so long. I will have my attendant gather my things, and we can go, whenever you are ready, she breathes. but also thinks to add, I would like to see... if Ash Paw might join us, perhaps she would not, but Toula liked the woman! and it did not feel right to go without asking, or saying goodbye!

ingram is keeper of a few things; his threadbones being all he could not bear to part with.

we should not linger, ingram says, thinking of all the problems that had came to basilica's borders within the past months: the ungrateful, nearly dead child and the entire pack wishing to extract revenge.

they'd always been small but without the strength of stable borders, ingram does not wish to prolong the journey.

for toula's sake or his own.

i will gather my threadbones while you speak with ash paw. he would not stop the akashingo princess from asking the pregnant mage if she wished to go with them.

Toula nodded to him, agreeing. and when he spoke of the things he would collect, She said: I will inform those that traveled with me, and find Ash Paw now, thinking it wise to be swift rather than slow in this. they fortunately still had plenty of food for travel, but would no doubt need more from his own stores for the extra party members! Toula would see it done by the others.
I will call for you when all is prepared, Toula smiled apologetically, knowing it might be Her who took the longest to gather the things needed! but this, too, a learned necessity and a way of her own life.

wrapping here! <3

ingram is not so sure ash paw would be willing to go with them — would not blame her if it was so. she had taken offense to the brief altercation between her, his nightwife and himself.

only for his nightwife to slip away, again.

a vicious cycle of continuing that makes ingram ponder many things, one of which whether he should sever that tether.

but not something that was entirely pressing to him at the moment! he reminds himself, tucking those thoughts away.

very well. ingram says with a nod, letting toula to tend to what she needed to as he goes to gather his threadbones.