The days were marching on with no sign of trouble. Sunny continued trekking to the tide pool cave each day to meet with Sandbar. As far as she could tell, her friends and neighbors were none the wiser about her situation. If anypony suspected anything, they’d likely discarded it as “Sunny being Sunny.”
Now and then, she considered letting Hitch in on her secret, just in case something went wrong, but she could never quite push herself to do it. In the morning, she would resolve to tell him, but then she would walk out of the beach cave sometime later, wanting to learn just one more thing first.
Though Sunny and Sandbar had been brought together by curiosity, they had found kinship beyond it. Maybe it was because of how unfathomably far he was, or maybe it was just how reassured he made her feel, but she felt like there was nothing they couldn’t tell each other about.
She’d vented to him about her frustration with the townsfolk rejecting her ideas of friendship, and their distrust of outsiders.
He had spoken about his feelings of stagnation, of amounting to nothing in his little town, just waiting for the next wave to surf on or the next turtle migration to assist.
She’d told him about her father, shared childhood memories and future worries, and how much she missed having family around.
He’d confessed that as much as he loved his recently-born little sister, he found himself resenting how his parents never seemed to have time for him anymore.
Sometimes, just for a moment, they dared to forget the unfathomable gap between them.
“Well hey there, little seapony,” Sandbar would tease. “You’re looking awfully cute here, and I bet you’re even cuter on your end.”
“Shoo be doo~” Sunny would croon back the next day, drinking up his compliments. “You’re looking pretty handsome yourself, surf stallion.”
For lack of a better option, kisses would be blown and caught back and forth.
Other days, of course, weren’t so easy.
“I really wish you’d tell me about those other ponies your neighbors don’t like, Sunny. I know you’re worried about changing history and that thing about a pair of ducks I still don’t get, but…”
“This again,” Sunny would sigh. “I know, I know. I’ll think about it, Sandbar. I promise. Maybe I’m supposed to tell you, but… What if I’m not supposed to? What if that causes all kinds of weird problems?”
He’d lower his head and his mane would droop down, hiding his eyes away. “I’ll try and let it go, but please, think about it.”
“... aaand you just told me to think about it. Like I said five seconds ago.” Sunny slumped in impotent frustration. “This delay is so annoying. I wish we could talk face to face.”
Still, they were enjoying exploring the differences in their respective societies. Sunny was fascinated by Sandbar’s strength and his affinity for marine wildlife. It reminded her of Hitch and his birds, a little.
Sandbar, in turn, was astounded by the sheer wealth of technology her bag could hold, from tiny radios to digital clocks. By far the biggest shock and awe had been when she’d snuck in the refrigerated smoothie delivery cart from the day’s first job.
“You mean that little box just… makes stuff cold? Like, without ice?”
They were so far, and yet they were so close.
“I’m worried about this, Sandbar,” Sunny confessed one morning. It had been a slow day for them, and she found herself unable to put it off any longer.
“Worried about us. That book said temporal tides come before—or after—powerful magical disruptions, right? Whichever one it is, before or after, we know this isn’t going to last forever. What then? I don’t want to lose you. I… I’m scared. What if tomorrow, or the day after, we come back to this cave and there’s nothing in the pool? What if we don’t get to say goodbye?”
The next morning, Sandbar listened attentively. He stood there, poking at his seashell necklace with one hoof, looking at the ground.
“I don’t know, Sunny. It’s a good point but… I guess I hadn’t thought about it until now. I want to enjoy this while it lasts. I want to enjoy us while I still can. I promise I’ll think about it. I hate to admit it, but you’re probably right…”
He didn’t bring it up again. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he didn’t want to talk about it either. Sunny didn’t press the issue. It was probably best to enjoy us while they still could.
Want it or not, it sometimes came back to haunt her. She loved her time with Sandbar as much as she loved the stallion himself. She didn’t want to see it end, and yet… What could she do?
One particularly somber evening, Sunny stepped out for air. She couldn’t stand to be alone with her thoughts… but she couldn’t bear the thought of sharing them either.
There was one pony she could tell. Just one. They were somepony she could talk to about anything. Somepony she trusted beyond anything else.
Under bright moonlight, Sunny made her way downhill from the lighthouse, towards a small grove on the very edge of town.
The narrow path’s cobblestones clipped and clopped gently under her hooves. It wouldn’t have been appropriate to roller skate to where she was headed.
Her path led her to enter through the side of the lot, near the middle of its length. To her right, progressively larger trees marked each row. To her left, incrementally smaller ones.
Sunny followed the left path down to the correct row. There was a bit more work to do for today.
A small rowan tree was waiting for her, its branches extended to offer shelter from rain and sun alike.
Sunny smiled through her concerns and sadness.
It was a routine she found peace in, lately.
Pull the new weeds. Check for pests—good, nothing’s here. The birds are doing a good job. Better make sure the soil is nice and damp.
It all just took a few minutes. Now, she was ready to pour her heart out.
Sunny sat down carefully and got herself comfortable.
She gently ran her hoof against the bronze marker sitting at the foot of the tree, re-reading its inscription for the millionth time.
It was still hard to truly believe what was written there.
There was not a noise around. The animals were asleep. Ponies were at home. Even the wind had turned in for the evening.
There was nopony around to hear Sunny murmur.
Nopony except him, of course.
Sunny took a deep breath. It never got any easier.
“Hi, Dad. There’s a pony I’d like to tell you about.”
Nopony replied, of course, but that had never been the point.
Nothing lasts forever.
Good things, bad things, all eventually must come to an end.
Time and tide, as they say, wait for no mare.
One early afternoon, true to that principle, the mysterious tide pool would temporarily find itself only the second most astounding thing in Sunny’s life.
The first? Had just casually trotted down Maretime Bay’s main thoroughfare with an enthusiastic grin and a shiny horn sticking out from her forehead.
“Hi, new friend! My name’s Izzy!”