Somnambula and the Demon of Dreams
There are many demons in the Desert of Nap. Not all of them can be seen without. Some must be sensed within.
Long ago, during the days of sand dragons and scorponies and enchanted snakes, the Prince Hisan – now Pharaoh Hisan – became cursed by one of these demons, but it is not the demon you may at first suspect.
For he had been troubled in his bedchamber every night. Whenever he woke up from his dreams, a terrible feeling of hopelessness and fear would engulf him. Hisan would be unable to move, and he would sense an evil presence nearby, and his howl of terror could be heard all across the village of Somnambula.
After her adventure with the dreaded Sphinx, Somnambula had become Royal Advisor to Hisan, but such was her fellow-feeling for her ponies that she continued to live outside the palace, among the peasants and the pedlars, in a shack made of sticks.
This was her first mistake, for Hisan sent for her as soon as the twelfth night gave way to sunrise, and only saw her when she came to him at sunset. She had been helping the villagers gather the crops, a solemn duty that none could abandon before nightfall, for fear of bringing bad luck upon the whole harvest. For now, Hisan forgave her.
Somnambula listened to him explain that he was haunted by a mysterious yet tormenting demon, which froze his limbs every time he woke up, and only released him once it had feasted upon his fear. She knew what that meant, for demons of the night were the responsibility of the Mistress of the Night, and yet no one had seen her in the desert for a long time.
To comfort him, Somnambula told him that she would confront this mistress and persuade her to free him from the demon. Hisan gave her the glowpaz necklace she had earned years before, and bade the spirits to protect her on her journey.
Thus Somnambula went beyond the known realm of her kind. Beyond the Desert of Nap, she braved the vast plains full of stalking cats and terror birds. Beyond the plains, she braved the scorching canyons of the stampeding buffalo tribes. Beyond the canyons, she braved the unfamiliar chill of the rain-drenched countryside. And beyond the countryside, she braved the white towers of the royal castle.
Despite the aches and chills in her very bones, Somnambula was kept strong by her hope, and her voice was bold and commanding when she approached the gates and demanded to see the Mistress of the Night, the Lady of All Darkness, the Dream Sovereign… Princess Luna Herself!
Somnambula was brought before a throne of obsidian, and there met the princess. A shadow in pony form. A queen to instil fear in the hearts of the demons themselves. A mare of midnight ice and iron words. Even Somnambula, who had faced the Sphinx without flinching, was nervous.
Yet she pleaded her case. She told Princess Luna of the ponies in the desert, and of the noble Pharaoh Hisan. She told of the demon which had tormented him, and of how they had reasoned that only a master of sleep and dreams could banish such a monster. So moved was Somnambula by what she was saying that she fell down onto her knees and pleaded with the princess.
Unfortunately, Princess Luna was not an easy pony to move. She waited for the words to die away, and then calmly and coldly explained that there were already many ponies in her realm who needed her protection. She had sent a guardian long ago to manage the desert in her stead, and in any case tradition decreed that she could not abandon her throne. Certainly not for the sake of yet one pony among countless others. It was an ancient royal duty.
But Somnambula refused to give up. Instead, she challenged the princess. She insisted the princess had not even tried to think of a solution. Such was her passion that she finally roused the princess to stand up.
“So,” boomed Princess Luna, “you believe yourself to be the greater intellect, do you?”
“Yes,” said Somnambula, for she had instantly devised a plan. “And I shall prove it. In my homeland, there is a game of strategy and skill, with the white armies of Horus on one side, and the dark armies of Set on the other. I challenge you to this game. Whoever wins the game will prove themselves the greater intellect, and thus say whether you are wrong to deny Pharaoh Hisan the help he needs.”
Now Princess Luna was smart enough to see the ploy for what it was, but such was her pride and her frank amazement at Somnambula’s words that she calmed down and agreed to the game. In any case, she had grown tired of her rigid duties, and admitted to her opponent that she relished the chance.
They set up the board. Somnambula explained the rules and claimed the white pieces of Horus. Princess Luna sat opposite with the dark pieces of Set. And then they played.
Ah, it was one for the history books! Princess Luna had encountered games like this many times before and thus proved a formidable foe, but her royal duties meant she’d been out of practice for too long. Meanwhile, Somnambula had learned from the game’s masters ever since she was an attentive foal, and had played with her fellow villagers so often that she became a master in her own right.
For hours the game continued, Somnambula taking many pieces but Princess Luna always dodging and sabotaging at just the right moments. It was said to go on for so long, that it drew the attention of many within the castle. Near the finish, however, Somnambula became tired and drowsy, while Princess Luna remained as calculating as when she’d started, and finally Somnambula made the wrong move.
She would have lost.
But to every watcher’s amazement, Princess Luna also made the wrong move. She seemed not to notice.
This was all Somnambula needed. She made the last move and cornered the King’s piece.
“Now,” she said, “I have bested you. My plea remains. Will you please search Hisan’s dreams tonight and find the demon before it strikes again?”
“As per the agreement,” said Princess Luna loudly, “I will honour your request.”
Night fell, and Princess Luna entered the dream world while Somnambula waited. She herself had noticed the wrong move, and wondered if someone as clever as the princess would really have failed to seize such a golden chance. That night, however, exhaustion sent her to a much-needed sleep.
If she’d hoped for good news come the morning, however, then she was gravely disappointed. Princess Luna returned to greet her personally, and was not in an encouraging mood.
“I have searched every corner of the pharaoh’s dream,” said Princess Luna, “but there was no demon, nor even a trace.”
“What? But how can that be? He told me himself there was a demon. You must have made a mistake.”
“I never,” said Luna coldly, “make a mistake. And your plea has been met. There is no further need for your presence. Nevertheless, I shall at least bid you good luck on your quest, and provide you with the supplies needed to return safely home.”
Feeling cheated, Somnambula refused her generous offer and left the castle. Her hope insisted she would find another way, but such was her rage and fear that she faced the rain-drenched countryside and the scorching canyons and the vast plains without any emotion left over for the perils she faced and the predators she outwitted.
On the border to the Desert of Nap, however, she heard snoring, but such snores that the ground quaked and the sky thundered and her heart trembled.
Bravery and curiosity pushed her towards the ruins of an old pyramid, and what did she find? Sleeping behind a pile of limestone bricks, she met a strange creature. A creature with the head of a pony, the eyes of a cat, the teeth of a crocodile, the body of a lion, the wings of a falcon, the size of an elephant, and the heart of a conqueror.
The Sphinx.
Too late, Somnambula thought to flee; the Sphinx woke up and stood up, and then it fixed her with an evil glare. To her surprise, she noticed its face was caked with dirt, its coat was matted, and its headdress was scuffed and had no shine.
“Of all the outrages!” cried the Sphinx. “First, you hound me out of my rightful kingdom! Then you make a fool out of me with your wily tricks! Now you seek to mock me even beyond the borders from whence I was banished!”
Somnambula had no love lost for this beast, but seeing it in this pitiable state moved her. Only slightly, though.
Calmly, she said, “The pharaoh is the rightful ruler; you were a bully and a tyrant. You set those challenges yourself, and I passed them fairly even when you made them as cruel as possible. I do not seek to mock you. I am travelling home from another quest.”
The Sphinx demanded she explain herself, but Somnambula held firm. Instead, she noticed it was gathering some of the stone for itself and preparing to fly away with it.
“So help me, I am bound by my oaths,” said the Sphinx, “and so shall not harm you… directly. But hound me again, little pony, and I swear I shall make you regret it.”
With that, the Sphinx flapped its mighty wings and left her alone.
Hope did not serve her well when she returned to the village, and then to the palace, under the rising light of the morning sun. Hisan summoned her immediately, for he’d had guards stationed around the palace watching out for her, and she had to forego the croplands where the peasants were gathering more food.
Remorsefully, she told him of her journey to the castle, of her game of wits against Princess Luna, of Princess Luna’s failure to find the demon, and of her own sorry travel back to his side. In bad grace, Hisan forgave her for her failure, but insisted that the princess was mistaken, or lying. He swore sometimes he had seen the demon, while his limbs were frozen in place and the darkness leaned close.
“I cannot judge my ponies or hear their pleas or instruct the taskmasters out on the fields,” he said piteously, “without fearing the demon will strike without warning. It is persistent. It may even want to destroy me, and so destroy the village. Although you are my friend and I do not blame you for your failure, for the good of my ponies I must command you to try again.”
“Very well,” said Somnambula. “Then I will seek out the help of powerful sorcerers and enchanters and magic-crafters – all the ones who live across the world – and I will not come back until I have found the one, or until I have tried them all.”
Once more, Hisan bade the spirits grant her good luck, and they shook hooves as friends before Somnambula left at sunset.
She began by wandering the Desert of Nap after legends and myths, visiting many other villages and even great towns, all with hope burning brightly inside her darkening heart. Everywhere she went, she asked and checked and sought out even the meanest conjurors, but those who did not turn away simply gave up when she explained her predicament.
Eventually, she ventured to the borders of the realm under the cover of night, where she stumbled across the ruins of an ancient city. To her surprise, the Sphinx was there, piling up its stolen limestone in imitation of a pyramid. So pathetic was the sight that, despite her own hatred of the beast, she was moved enough to approach it. She went to give the creature some of her hope.
So she was astonished when it cast its spell and the sad little pyramid transformed before her eyes!
The Sphinx coated it with alabaster and marble, created steps and columns, topped it with a golden cap, and conjured palm trees around its base. Of course, such a powerful magic hit it back; the Sphinx cried out in pain and the magic spell stopped before the magnificent and now-mighty pyramid was finished. Instead, it vanished and turned back into mere limestone bricks.
When it spotted her approaching, the Sphinx became angry, but Somnambula could also see the pain in its eyes, and did not flee.
“If I were half the magic-crafter I once was,” it roared, “I would curse your miserable head!”
“I am not here to mock you,” said Somnambula, and she kneeled and bowed to placate the monster’s wrath. “I am humbled by your skill, and willing to make another challenge with you.”
“Willing to disgrace and humiliate me again, you mean,” it said, but she could tell it was interested. “I am bound by my oaths. Without a challenge, I am useless anyway. My magic needs a challenge to work. And since powerful magic deserves powerful food, I want your crops.”
Somnambula hesitated. If she agreed to give away their crops, she knew, the Sphinx would use it as an excuse to terrorize and impoverish her friends and family again. So she tried something else.
“Then I will give you a challenge, and thus give you hope. My challenge is this,” she said loudly and clearly. “If I win, you must obey my wishes and help Pharaoh Hisan. If I lose, you can –”
“Rule the village again!”
“No. But you can decide my fate instead.”
This earned her the Sphinx’s full interest. A nasty grin spread across its face. Quickly, it agreed.
Its challenge, as Somnambula feared, was cruel. The Sphinx turned to the bricks, and with a rumble the magnificent pyramid returned, this time to stay. Thus done, the Sphinx rolled an enormous boulder out of the heart of the ruined city and placed it at the foot of the reborn pyramid. It waited until sunrise brightened the horizon. Then it spoke thus:
“When the sun rises, you must start. Roll that boulder up the slope of the pyramid however you see fit, and balance it at the top. If it is not at the peak before sunset, you fail. And your fate will be in my tender claws.”
So at sunrise she rolled. Sheer strength was needed; no tricks or plans or clever ploys came to her rescue. She simply used her pegasus determination to push the boulder as high up as it would go.
But the Sphinx had outmatched her. Every time she neared the peak, a magical kink in the slope meant she lost her grip, and the boulder rolled all the way back down. Again and again, Somnambula pushed it back up, and again and again she lost her grip. Soon, she realized what the Sphinx had done, but the day burned on, and her body grew weak and thirsty and tired and painful, and still she pushed on, and still the boulder could never reach the top, and her hope dwindled the more and more she tried, until it too set on the day, and she saw the last light vanish under the darkness.
The Sphinx watched the boulder roll down again. It laughed at her failure, and when she came down to plead and reason with it, the monster merely laughed harder.
“This was more fun than I’d expected! I’ve had all day to come up with the right punishment. Hope has been your one strength – hope in the goodness of others most of all – so I shall take that away from you forever. Wherever you go, whoever you meet, none shall see you with compassion or love. My curse will make you hated and reviled by all!”
Somnambula was too weak even to feel horror at this news. That night, she left the desert, continuing her quest solely because it was all she could cling onto, and yet she felt no hope.
The Sphinx was as cruel as it had promised. She went to frontier towns, and found herself chased away like a common bandit. She went to coastal towns, and faced insults and slurs for everything from her strange eyes to her dress to her attempts to stir their hearts to pity. She went to the grand cities and great civilizations across the globe, and soon her dress and mane and coat were ruins, saved only by the scraps she scavenged and the natural rivers she washed in. Bruises and limps became her companions, for not even the physicians welcomed her. And the sorcerers, the enchanters, and the magic-crafters all called her a “mere peasant” and sent her away.
When she returned to Hisan, she was no better than a walking corpse, dead inside. His guards insulted her and dragged her to her onetime friend, who had become resentful and petty in her absence and let the village homes slowly decay.
“You found no one?” he said angrily.
“I am sorry, my good friend,” she said, yet she spoke without emotion, for by now she knew the curse would twist the conversation away from her.
“I put my trust in you, and you betray me! As your friend! As your devoted follower! As your royal pharaoh! And now I cannot sleep at night, and I cannot think, and I know that demon is waiting for me! After all the misery I and my ponies have suffered, you betray me!”
Hisan was so unhinged and paranoid that, suddenly, he began looking at her with increasing suspicion.
“Perhaps you sent this demon to torment me! Yes! That must be it! You wished to win my trust, and so control the throne by controlling me! Ah me, how did I not see it before? It makes sense now! Only a miserable commoner with no royal blood and no claim to the throne would resort to such filthy trickery!”
Now, Somnambula had weathered scorn upon scorn for so long that this should have meant nothing to her. Nonetheless, as soon as she met his gaze, a tiny spark of life ignited her passion. Weakly, she shook her head, too tired even to speak.
“Then find me this demon, and perhaps then I shall pardon you! And I dare say you shall not come back until you do!” And the worst thing he could have done, he did; he laughed snidely at her.
Somnambula, bereft of life and hope, broke.
She was still herself, what was left of her, so she ventured forth one more time, limp and stagger though she did, and though she struggled not to close her eyes and fall asleep where she stood.
The Sphinx was waiting for her in the Desert of Nap. It was smirking as proudly as a cat playing with a particularly fun mouse under its paw.
“I shine brightest in the dark!” shouted the Sphinx happily. “I am there but cannot be seen! To have me costs you nothing! To be without me costs you… everything.”
It was the riddle she had bested, a lifetime ago.
“The best part?” said the Sphinx. “I made the curse so that it controls everyone except Pharaoh Hisan. Yes! Those words he spoke to you were not my doing! They were his own! Now you are as good as banished, and now you will know the misery of being kept from that which was rightfully yours!”
Roaring with laughter, the Sphinx left the ruined Somnambula to join the lost cities and emptiness of the desert.
Accompanied by nothing but pain, Somnambula entered the darkest depths of the midnight desert. She may well have ambled over the endless dunes for hours upon hours, so featureless was the desert, so lost was she.
Only her body tried to find Hisan’s demon. Her mind had nothing to do with it anymore.
Thus, when what was left of her jolted to attention and spotted a jackal-shaped beast of sharp eye and slender frame, she recognized the Sha. Vaguely, she remembered the old tales of their evil. Where once she would have dismissed these as tall tales and unkind on the harmless creatures, which merely scampered about the desert looking for things lost in the sandstorms, now she believed them.
Even when the Sha took fright and scampered away, she followed the creature. It was a pathetic chase, and she went on not because of hope and not because of belief, but because she had nothing else to do, and everything was disappearing along with the village far behind. Her plan was pitiful: to fake a capture and pretend the Sha was the offending demon. Through her rotting mind, part of her knew it for the folly it was, but the knowledge did nothing but lie inside her head as another dead weight.
Finally, she limped after the spry Sha and entered the cave where it sought shelter. She kept going until she turned too many corners and was finally lost to darkness. She was blind. She heard nothing. She had nothing. She’d lost everything.
Somnambula laid herself down and prepared to follow her hope into the darkness forever.
When there was a light.
Princess Luna, horn aglow, found her there.
The Mistress of the Night explained that she had heard word of Somnambula’s last quest from the sorcerers and the enchanters and the magic-crafters across her realm, and had been so surprised and confused by the bad reports of Somnambula’s character that she’d left the castle to see for herself what had become of the once-cunning and brave heroine. Having encountered the Sphinx and learned of its tricks, Princess Luna had then forced it to reveal Somnambula’s whereabouts, had searched the desert, and had spotted the pitiful chase of the Sha. Now she had come to help Somnambula.
With her magic, Princess Luna removed the curse.
Somnambula was stunned, and still too weak to understand, but Princess Luna revealed the truth. That Sphinx had once been one of her loyal creatures. Princess Luna had too many responsibilities, so she sent the Sphinx to guard the desert cultures and the pharaoh from evil demons and malicious spirits, “by any means necessary”. Until now, no one in her own realm had known what had become of it.
However, Princess Luna had figured it out, and now hung her head in shame.
Since her absence meant she couldn’t watch over the Sphinx, and since many more pressing issues had kept her busy, Princess Luna had come to neglect the desert realms utterly. As a result, the Sphinx began to follow its oath too zealously, trying to control everything in its quest to thwart evil wherever it saw any, and then wherever it merely thought it saw any.
Eventually, it became a monstrous tyrant, mad with power-lust and angry for its lack of recognition. It became hungry for tributes, for crops, and for undying respect of its brilliant, problem-solving mind. Finally, it had learned to manipulate its own oath magic whenever it could, and thus, bit-by-bit, it had enslaved the ponies it was meant to protect.
And while the tale was told, Somnambula woke from her nightmare. Pity stirred in her chest, both for the once-enslaved ponies and for the dutiful Sphinx that had lost its way. Generosity told her to forgive the unhappy Princess Luna for her mistake. Bravery stood as tall and proud as she did, ready to do what she could. Hope shone brightly, for she’d seen the way.
To Princess Luna’s surprise, Somnambula insisted they seek out the Sphinx. Reluctantly, yet trusting in the judgement of this defiant little pony, the princess agreed.
They searched the desert all night until they found it, alone in the ancient city ruins, without even its magnificent pyramid to enjoy. Only a small pile of old limestone remained.
The Sphinx was shocked to see its old master return, but as usual, anger controlled it.
“Come to mock me at the end, have you?” it spat. “When my magic has been wasted and my mind left to decay? For centuries, you left me alone, and now that you’ve killed me, only now do you seek me out?”
“How dare you accuse me of your own corruption!” said Princess Luna, but Somnambula shook her head meaningfully. “Yes, I am too late. And I wish to apologize. I did not want this to happen.”
“How I wish I was not bound by your miserable oath! Had I known this would be my reward, I would have torn your castle apart! Leave me alone and never insult me with your demands again! You’re good at leaving creatures alone to rot away!”
Somnambula stamped her hoof, for the two combatants were almost nose-to-gigantic-nose. “Sphinx! I have heard your story! You have done terrible things to my fellow ponies, but you do not need to be a creature of darkness anymore. I would like to give you my hope.”
“Ha! I see nothing worth taking.”
“Hope cannot be seen, though it shines brightest in the dark.”
Irritated, the Sphinx backed away and sat down. “Nothing comes from nothing. I will need a challenge. You can thank this negligent night mare for that.”
So Somnambula stood under the stars, and she thought carefully about the Sphinx, and about its riddles and games, and about its pride in solving puzzles. Better still, Princess Luna stood there. The answer was a shooting star in the darkness.
“If you win,” she said, “you will have your wish and we will leave you alone forever. You will be left to enjoy your peace.”
The Sphinx snorted, as she knew it would.
“If I win,” said Somnambula, “then I will decide your fate.”
At this, the Sphinx hummed and tapped its chin, looking from her to Princess Luna. Whether it saw the trick or not, it gave in.
“Name your challenge,” it said.
Firstly, Somnambula explained the rules and asked Princess Luna to transform some of the limestone into a board and pieces. Unlike before, Somnambula took the dark army of Set, leaving the Sphinx with the white army of Horus.
The Sphinx asked Princess Luna to move the pieces, for its paws were too big. Then it told her what to do, and thus made the first move of the game.
Quickly, the differences became obvious. Whereas Princess Luna had preferred to defend and to sneak about, the Sphinx charged at its enemies and pounced wherever it could. All the same, Somnambula’s wits were sorely tested just protecting her side from the attacks. Aggressive players needed to match speed and strength to last against brains. The Sphinx used all three as naturally as it breathed.
Sunrise saw the two players locked, neither having an advantage over the other. Many pieces came off the board.
“Haha!” said the Sphinx. “I haven’t played this in centuries! I forgot how much fun this game could be!”
“Would you like to play another game afterwards?” said Princess Luna politely.
The Sphinx glared at her. “No more challenges. One is enough.”
“I did not mean for a challenge. I meant solely for amusement.”
So odd was this that Somnambula watched to see how the Sphinx took the offer. To her surprise, the giant face was thoughtful.
How happy it looked, though, when it moved more pieces and laughed and smirked at the board! A mind like that clearly loved a good puzzle. Yet all around them was sand and the ruins of dead cities. She knew what would happen if the creature was suddenly left alone.
Princess Luna sighed. “How saddening. I confess I rarely get to enjoy a game such as this, between my royal duties and my dream-keeping. It is a shame this will all end soon.”
The Sphinx said nothing, but its silence told Somnambula everything she needed to know.
Perhaps it had sensed Somnambula’s confidence rising in defiance of its own, but the Sphinx was moved enough to say, “It is a shame I am going to lose. But clearly my once-brilliant mind has been corrupted beyond hope.”
“Nothing is beyond hope,” said Somnambula, and she gave it a gentle smile. “Not even the darkest shadows.”
Princess Luna said, “I am sorry for the way I treated you, my loyal Sphinx.”
Yet the Sphinx was indeed corrupted, though not beyond hope. It looked down on its master with surprise and suspicion.
“You are sorry?” it said with disdain.
“Yes. It is unpleasant indeed to be ignored or shunned. I believe it is one of the worst fates imaginable.”
The Sphinx buried itself in the game, but without much enthusiasm. The outcome was clear.
Somnambula placed the last piece on the last square for the last move, and thus won the game. At once, the Sphinx growled and pawed the ground. Only Princess Luna could keep its anger at bay, in this case with a mere glance.
Somnambula had spent most of the game thinking, and now she had a clear idea of what to say. “Very well. As agreed, I shall give you your fate, dear Sphinx. You shall have a second chance. You shall again take up Princess Luna’s oath. You shall guard the desert cultures and the pharaoh from evil, as you were meant to do. But first, you shall help me with your magic, and help free Pharaoh Hisan from his terrible fate.”
“Done,” said the Sphinx, still suspicious.
Now that the light of the morning shone at its brightest and the skies were blue with calm, Somnambula marched back to the village, followed by Princess Luna and the Sphinx. As soon as they were seen, and now free from the curse’s effects, the guards welcomed Somnambula back happily and took her explanation of the last few days with no doubt in their hearts. The villagers gave her food and water, let her rest in her humble home until the afternoon, and then followed her to the palace in the evening.
Waiting for her was Pharaoh Hisan.
As soon as he saw her, Pharaoh Hisan was enough of a stallion to stop her from bowing, and to bow before her as low as he could.
“My friend!” he said, tears in his eyes. “I have disgraced myself and my father! Your hope was all I had left, and I cast it aside as though it were a mere dull stone. To see it shining again is more than I deserve. For my crimes against your good heart and strong friendship, I relieve you of any duty towards me. As your friend! As your devoted follower! As your royal pharaoh! I am now none of those things, and confess myself filthier than the dirt.”
Somnambula’s heart wept. She knew at once she had never given up hope, but that deep inside, the tiniest of lights had waited, waited, waited patiently for the day when she would see Pharaoh Hisan – Prince Hisan – heroic Hisan – loyal Hisan – her friend – smile at her one more time. Smile, as he had smiled when she’d freed him from the Sphinx’s trap. Smile, as he’d heard her pour her heart and soul out to him, and given him her wish that her fellow ponies could harvest their crops without fear or unhappiness, and watched him take this wish with him to the throne.
She broke all protocol that day, and leaped to him, and thus became the first peasant ever to embrace a pharaoh. He met her kindness with his own, and thus became the first pharaoh ever to embrace a peasant.
But that still left him with a terrible night ahead, and the peasants gathered outside to shout that he had ignored their pleas and barked orders at them like a tyrant. Humbly, he made a speech to them, apologized for his neglect, thanked them for their hard work and loyalty even as he’d been disloyal to them, and praised Somnambula for finding a solution.
Of course, once in his bedchamber, he wasn’t entirely happy with said solution.
“The Sphinx?” he said incredulously.
“Princess Luna will ensure it – I mean, she – honours her agreement,” said Somnambula.
“I will need to see him sleep,” said the Sphinx. “Only then can I see the demon and thwart it. And then I am leaving. This room is too cramped!”
Somnambula thanked her and thanked Princess Luna nearby, and went out, and waited.
Sunset saw her full of confidence and sitting up straight. Not when the moon rose over the distant dunes did she slouch. Not when the stars crossed the sky did she do more than shuffle on her seat. Not when the desert became pure shadow did she think any less of herself. And not when the first rays of sunlight heralded the scream of the pharaoh did she dare look inside.
Eerily, the bedchamber was silent for several minutes.
Then Princess Luna guided the Sphinx through the grand entrance and Somnambula stood up at once to receive her answer.
“Demons? There were no demons!” said the Sphinx testily. “Your pharaoh is imagining things.”
“What?” said Somnambula.
Princess Luna said, “He does not suffer from evil forces. He merely suffers from a strange but mortal affliction. It is known in my land as 'sleep paralysis'.”
“No demons?” said Somnambula in surprise. “But how can this be? He told me himself.”
Princess Luna calmed her down and smiled at her. “When a pony dreams, their dream selves can perform the most amazing feats, but meanwhile, their body needs to be paralysed to stop their bodies from performing the same while they sleep. However, I have found that in some ponies, the body works too well at this task, and they wake up unnaturally paralysed. It is my belief that Pharaoh Hisan mistook this mere mortal failure as the work of demons, and his frightened and dream-muddled mind made him believe he’d seen the rest. It is well-understood in my realm.”
“So,” said Somnambula, utterly confused but surprisingly pleased, “he’s not being tormented by demons?”
“Not a one,” said the Sphinx moodily.
“There are stranger things than that, in my world,” said Princess Luna. “Myself, I have even seen ponies walking in their sleep. The good news is that, alarming as it undoubtedly is to experience, this burden will cause him no harm, and he will not suffer for it, now that he knows its true nature.”
Pharaoh Hisan himself came out. He looked puzzled and annoyed, but still he bowed towards Princess Luna and to the Sphinx, much to the latter’s surprise.
“Most strange indeed,” he said. “How could this have happened?”
“As I sadly had to explain to you, Pharaoh Hisan,” said Princess Luna politely, “it is easier to identify the problems of sleep than to understand why they happen. There are many mysteries even to one as well-versed as myself.”
“I see,” he said. “And I am most grateful to you, Your Highness. It has been a stressful time, but now it is truly a comfort and a relief to know that this is no evil demon after all. Would you like to stay for the feast? My subjects have worked hard to bring in a bountiful crop this year. We would be honoured to have you as a guest.”
“You are most welcome,” said Princess Luna. “Alas, I fear I have been away from my post for too long already. However, I shall return to see that these lands are being properly protected. And to ensure an old friend of mine does not remain alone.”
With a final nod to Somnambula, Princess Luna vanished. Pharaoh Hisan bustled away to attend to the feast, and Somnambula knew that he wanted to help the ponies set up the grand tables in his halls.
Annoyed at being thus ignored, the Sphinx spread her wings and made to fly away, never to return.
“Wait!” said Somnambula. “What are you doing?”
“I am still officially banished from the village,” said the Sphinx, growling with each word. “So I have no intention of being hunted by angry villagers, even though I can swipe armies aside with one paw alone. It would be tedious.”
But Somnambula held out a hoof, and the Sphinx heaved her elephantine bulk and peered down.
“A playing piece?” she said.
“For you to remember.” To complete her side of things, Somnambula gave the Sphinx one last riddle.
“I am strongest in my moment of weakness.
“I can be shared without becoming the lesser for it.
“I am treasure without gold, and warmth without fire.
“I can stretch across the world without breaking.
“To have me is to have magic beyond magic.
“To lose me is more fatal than death.”
The Sphinx held out a surprisingly gentle paw, and then she let Somnambula tip the piece into her grasp. “I will think about this,” she said coldly. “But I make no promises.”
Somnambula waved after the flapping Sphinx until there was nothing to see but a dot, and soon that too was lost to the haze of the horizon.
And so ended the tale of Somnambula and the Demon of Dreams.
At night, sometimes, even unto this day, it is said that anyone in the village can hear the wings of the Sphinx fly over the rooftops, though none have ever seen so much as a feather or a silhouette, watch the stars and scour the sands though they may.
And it is said, often, that Pharaoh Hisan slept soundly thereafter, though he was never cured of his paralysing burden, though eventually Somnambula went on another quest, though she was soon lost beyond the Desert of Nap, though Hisan searched for her and never found her, though he had to give his subjects the speech calling out for Somnambula in his dreams, though he wept with every word, and though neither he nor anyone in the village ever learned what had become of her.
They told her story. They erected her statue. They passed on what they could from generation to generation. Not despite their ignorance of her fate. They did it because of that. They had learned what to do for their shining hope.
