"Hmmm..." Pilate thought aloud. The O.A.S.I.S. manasphere hovered above a juncture of symbols along the wall before him in the chamber. "Why is this particular pattern here so asymmetrical? These two symbols appear and reappear equally on the right side, but on the left there is this discrepancy. Perhaps it has significance? It suggests imperfection?"
He flipped a page in the tome and flickered the light from the manasphere to it.
"Maybe it's a west horizon versus an east horizon thing. If I focus on the symbols connecting them to 'Austraeoh,' maybe I will find a purpose..." His metal brow furrowed as he continued to think aloud. "Then just what are these symbols at the apex of the pegasus' crown...?"
He was so engrossed in his studies that he barely registered the arrival of a quartet of soft hoofsteps. Bellesmith walked daintily into the place, paused to observe his research, then shuffled over to his side.
"It looks like you've stumbled upon quite the mural here, beloved."
"Guh!" Pilate jumped in place, a very rare thing. "By the Spark, Belle! Has anypony told you that you have the silent grace of a windigo?"
"Heeheehee... Not recently!" Bellesmith smiled and squatted down beside him. "Goodness! You must really, truly be intrigued by this thing for me to have gone unnoticed by yours of all ears."
"Well, there's just such a lot to take in," Pilate said. "Did Crimson tell you about this? Is that why you're down here?"
"Darling, I'm down here because I miss you." Belle leaned in and nuzzled him. "Still, I wouldn't mind helping you out with this, for what it's worth."
"It's worth a lot, my love," Pilate said with a smile. He reached a hoof out to caress her mane. "Always—" He froze and his face contorted into pleasant shock upon the silken contact with her braids. "Uhhh...."
"Yes?" Belle smirked at him. "Is something amiss, Pilate?"
"Oh, no, hardly. I just..." His brow furrowed. "Is this your mane?"
"No," she replied with flat eyes. "I found a royal duvet out of pony hair and slapped it on my skull."
"I'm just..." He gulped as he caressed her tresses gently. "Zounds, that's beyond remarkable!"
"I think somepony has lost his concentration."
"Wherever did you find the time to do such intricate work on it?"
"Mmmm... EE helped."
"EE?"
"Eagle Eye, you silly zebra."
"Oh. So he... helped you, did he?"
"Yes. Just now. The little darling certainly knows his way around a delicate scalp."
Pilate's ears drooped as he tilted his face towards the wall of symbols yet again. "I see..."
Belle raised an eyebrow. "Beloved? Is there something wrong?"
"Hmm? Wrong? Well... uh, no... it's just that..."
"Do tell me..."
Pilate fidgeted slightly. "He seems quite... affectionate."
"Are stallions not allowed to be?"
"I mean... he seems to be spending an awful lot of time with you and... and..." He bit his lip. "He's a soldier, Bellesmith. Affectionate or not, mercenaries who have been away from home and their loved ones for so long are lonely, and I can only imagine that—when they're with a mare—they... well... they must only have one thing on their mind, and—"
The chamber filled with a melodic thunder; Belle was laughing.
Pilate frowned. "What?! I was being serious! I dare think you're humoring his advances and—"
"Ohhhhh Pilate." Belle leaned in and hugged him dearly, nuzzling his striped neck. "I love you like no tomorrow, but sometimes you really, really are a blind zebra."
Pilate gulped, blushing furiously. "I... I don't get it..."
"Let us study the symbols some more, darling."
"Ahem. Yes. Let's."