"The writing on the pages before and after the sheet of symbols is rather vague and poetic," Pilate explained to the group. Bellesmith paced anxiously behind the zebra and two buffalo as O.A.S.I.S. scanned more of the old book. "It details the 'blessings of the angels' and how they brought 'life and animation to the dead world.'"
"Who would the angels be?" Little Breath remarked. "The alicorns?"
"It'd make sense for the Bethlemites to have given them an otherworldly description," Great Stare said.
"Many cultures speak of alicorns," Pilate says. "This really shouldn't be a big surprise."
"But what about the 'life and animation' they brought to a 'dead world?'" Little Breath asked.
"I'm not entirely certain," Pilate said. "But obviously these 'angels' had an important role to play in the land that was once Blue Shelf and its surrounding regions." O.A.S.I.S. flickered above his head as he pointed at a corner of the page. "Here, the translation conveys that the ancient caribou never built their temples above a certain altitude, but instead at the foot of the mountains. They apparently did it in order to not 'impede the will of the angels.'"
"They didn't want to rob her of her wind," Belle murmured.
The group turned towards her.
"What was that?" Great Stare asked.
Fidgeting, Belle turned and looked at the group. "I have met an alicorn," she said. Upon the buffalo's stupified stares, she clarified, "In my visions, dreams afforded me from the sequencing, I was spoken to by an alicorn named Whitemane."
"How..." Great Stare squinted at her. "How is that possible?"
"A hallucination?" Little Breath remarked.
Belle gulped before speaking. "I was there. I felt her wings encircle around me. I felt her warmth as she let me release all my pent up fears and sorrows." She sniffled and smiled warmly into the sunlight pouring through the window. "She truly was angelic in every sense of the term. But then she told me that I had a purpose, and it was to 'bring the wind to Austraeoh.'"
"And just who is this 'Ostr-ay-oh?'"
"The subject that she's sequencing with," Pilate said. "Erm... presumably." He tilted his head back from where he sat. "Right, beloved?"
She trotted over and stroked his shoulder. "Yes. And Whitemane also told me that I was to bring about something called 'Eljunbyro.'" She gulped and said, "I know this all sounds very strange, moronic, even. As a scientist, I'm not supposed to rely on intuition or dreamy notions. But I just know that a clear and distinct message has been delivered to me. What's more..." She pointed at the two pairs of symbols specifically. "I know that these two emblems refer to what she's told me."
"Well..." Pilate thought aloud as O.A.S.I.S. hovered over to the page adjacent to the sheet of exposed illustrations. "I had noticed long ago that the writings in this book contain a noticeable structure. There's a great bit of poetry in this section alone, and the number of cryptic messages are equal to the pairs of emblems."
"You think there may be some correlation?" Great Breath asked.
"It's quite possible," Pilate said with a nod. "Belle, darling. Would you read the third paragraph on this page?"
Belle leaned over, squinted, and read aloud, "'She will head into morning, for she sees the dawn and becomes it, and the equine knows no end until the world knows no end. Her wings bring animation, as they bring hope.'"
"That, presumably, corresponds to 'Austraeoh,'" Pilate declared. "And the twelfth paragraph?"
Belle read, "'A heart that doesn't bleed is a heart that cannot live. Her spirit will be frightened into and out of the darkness, so that endless guile will be her sustenance, along with the rising sun.'"
"'Eljunbyro,'" Pilate said. "Though I'm no literature professor, I think what we have here is a potential analysis of Whitemane's words, presuming they truly carry the wisdom of an alicorn." He pivoted about, facing the group. "Whoever this equine is, she's destined to head east, and she doesn't need the wind—she needs it returned."
"She seeks rejuvenation," Little Breath remarked.
"Rebirth," Belle said.
The others were silent.
"Guys..." Belle gulped and looked nervously at the group. "I know that what I'm going to say may sound heretical... dangerous, even. But..." She glanced out the window at the blue sky. "What if the Beloved Spark—that which we all respect and live for—somehow died ages ago, and it's needing to be reconstituted?"
The two buffalo glanced at each other nervously.
Pilate spoke, "A spark is something that only happens once, or randomly and at fleeting moments." He smiled awkwardly. "I've always known that. I just believed in my heart that the Spark leads to something that is everlasting. I've told you that before, Belle."
"I know. I'm just speculating..." Belle shuffled around, breathing heavily. "What... What if..." Her chestnut eyes wandered towards the group. "What if this world has been needing the Spark all this time, and that Spark is not just a force, but a pony?" She exhaled. "And what if all this time I've been crossing minds with her? The one and only? The Spark?"