It appears Twilight returned last night while I was asleep. I found her at my table in the morning, clutching an empty mug. She had a far-away look in her eyes, and only when I came in did she snap to and realise she had no coffee — something that I was glad to rectify.
The first thing she said to me was:
‘I found it.’
She asked for a map, upon which she pointed out the area of the town known as Seal Bay, which was a circular area enclosed along the shore. I know not the history of the town, but I assumed it was known as such due to there being a multitude of seals in the area.
I was quite mistaken.
Its true name, as Twilight had found out, was Sidereal Bay, a word that had crumbled over time to become something quite easier to pronounce and understand. As it was, ‘Sidereal’ referred to the stars, and the connection was quite strong. The Watchers of the Stars, as she recalled, must have watched the stars, and the sounds of water coming from the stone must be indication of the area being to do with water.
And in fact, upon going there, something amazing happened, as she put.
She once again withdrew the object from her bag and told me to listen to it again.
It no further than grazed my ear did I hear the same noise once more, albeit a dozen-fold louder and stronger. But it sounded not to me like waves crashing upon the shore. It was more like a heavy, torrential rain that came crashing down upon the lands, swallowing up everything in black turgid floods.
Yes, perhaps this is a slight exaggeration, but Twilight, in her fervent zeal, repeated once again that she had found what she was looking for, and I can not but help carry some of that excitement.
I congratulated her.
She asked me out to join her for lunch outside.
And here I am now, writing about it, under the guise of needing to put my face on!
My hoof is quite unsteady, as you can probably notice.
I would love to shake it out of my head, but I can not.
Perhaps there is a return after all.