Daring Do stepped through the hotel doors around one in the morning. She was dead tired, and covered in sand from the long walk back. Her clothes were sweaty, and she still reeked of vinegar. Her mouth hung open out of fatigue, both from the walk and because of the time. Her mane was a mess, and her eyes were bloodshot.

“Miss Do.” The desk clerk looked startled. “You look awful. Have you been out drinking?”

“Normally, yes.” Daring murmured. “But tonight... Let's just say I just got back from one Hell of a wine tasting. Is my room still open?”

“Yes, miss.” The clerk nodded, pulling a key off of a rack. “I kept it for you, even though company policy states that we are to vacate rooms when the guest is not in before midnight, to make room for potential visitors.”

“Mustafa,” Daring stated, reading the desk clerk's name off of his tag, “you are a Saint.”

“Thank you for saying so miss.” Mustafa replied. Just before Daring Do turned to take the key and leave, he held out his hand for a tip.

“You may be a Saint,” Daring grumbled, fishing through her pocket for a bill, “but you're a greedy Saint, Mustafa.” She found no money in her pocket, so she took off the analogue watch she had bought from a street merchant the day before for the tip.

“I have to make money somehow.” The clerk shrugged, innocently.

“You're a check-in clerk.” Daring griped, slapping the watch into his hoof and snatching her keys. “You make money doing that.”

As she turned and walked up the stairs to her room, the clerk called after her, “Yes! But it isn't much!”

“Whatever!” She shouted over her shoulder as she walked to her door. “And that had better count for tomorrow's rent!”

She fought with the lock until it gave way and she was let into the room. She grumbled to herself about where the locks could go and how to get there as she took off her hat and dropped it on the hat rack. Without changing, she walked over and collapsed onto the side of the bed, in what would have normally been a very uncomfortable position. But, she was asleep as soon as she hit the mattress, so she couldn't complain.

Daring drifted hazily back from la-la land into the world of the living as she felt an uncomfortable feeling in her everything. One of her forelegs was asleep, her back was sore, and her hind legs felt as if they would fall off. The side of her face was soaked in her own drool as she peeled it off of the bedspread. She was awake now, not like she had been the night before. Or was it still night? Daring looked up to see that it was still dark outside. She let her mind dwell on it only for a moment before taking a hoof and drying the side of her face.

“That's nice, Daring.” Daring Do said with disgust. “Really ladylike. Just like mom always wanted.” She wiped her hoof on the bedspread to dry it.

Daring took a deep breath and gagged. The entire room smelled like vinegar. She still smelled like vinegar too. She tore off her jacket and walked quickly to the bathroom to have a shower.

“If I ever smell wine or vinegar ever again, I'm going to hurl.” Daring promised herself.

Daring stayed in the shower for almost an hour, still able to smell the vinegar from the day before. The cheap hotel soap did almost nothing for it. She did her best to get the smell out, and gave up after the hour. Drying herself, Daring swore she heard the hotel alarm clock going off in the bedroom.

“That's weird,” Daring thought aloud, “I set the alarm for nine AM. But it's still dark out.”

Daring towelled off quickly so she could turn off the alarm before it became unbearable. Practically running from the bathroom, she slapped a hoof down on the top of the screaming clock, halting it mid-squawk. She raised the clock to eye level, reading the time off of the face. It read “9:00 am”, but Daring couldn't believe it.

Still holding the clock and slightly damp, Daring went down to the lobby to see Mustafa about the alarm. When she came into view, he smiled and waved.

“Good morning, Miss Daring Do.” Mustafa bowed. “I assumed you would be sleeping in after coming in so late last night.”

“I intended to sleep until nine.” Daring groaned. “But there's something wrong with this clock. I set the alarm for nine, and the time was right last night, but this morning it went off early.”

Mustafa looked confused. “What time is it, then?”

“I don't know, Mustafa.” Daring growled. “Check your watch.”

Mustafa turned over his hoof to inspect the watch he had received from Daring the night before. “It says it is just past nine o'clock in the morning. So either you are wrong, I am wrong, or we are both wrong.” Mustafa laughed.

“Well then, why is it still dark outside?” Daring asked, walking over to the front window.

“Storm clouds?” Mustafa offered.

“No, there aren't any clouds, I can see the moon and the stars.” Daring shook her head.

“Maybe you have one of those clock-destroying auras.” Mustafa noted.

“Those are as big of bedtime stories as mummy's curses.” Daring grumbled. Then she remembered the words that had been scribbled on the wall of the tomb. She started to worry herself, and shook her head. “Just a coincidence.” She told herself.

Returning to her room, head spinning, Daring Do pulled the notebook out of her vinegar soaked jacket and something fell out of the pocket along with it. She looked down and found the gold disc. She kept forgetting that she had taken it, it was almost like an automatic response. She laid the disc on her bedside table and leafed through her notebook again. She found the page with the translated inscription on it. “As the god of night does sleep, the sun remains in the sky. If his rest is disturbed, night will rule the day.”

“Guess the rhyme gets lost in translation.” daring joked to herself, trying to calm her nerves.

It was difficult, though. She so desperately wanted to just say it was a fluke, curses don't exist, but there was a looming feeling of dread as she read the words over and over. She could feel some power in the words, even unspoken. Right then and there, Daring decided that she would return to the tomb that day, if only to satisfy her curiosity.

Daring took her hat and jacket, still smelling of vinegar, down to the lobby. Mustafa was reading a magazine behind the counter. It was still dark outside, and Daring could hear crickets and other bugs chirping and buzzing around in the warm Egyptian air.

“Can you get these dry cleaned?” Daring held up her clothes.

“The jacket, yes, miss Daring. I am not so sure about the helmet.” Mustafa shook his head, taking the articles out of Daring's hoofs.

“Try.” Daring ordered. “I can't stand the smell of vinegar anymore.”

Mustafa began to search the pockets of the jacket.

“Do you mind?” Daring asked, a little disturbed.

“Sorry, Miss Daring Do. Some of the ponies down at the laundromat have some “sticky hooves.”” Mustafa explained. “I don't want them taking any of your belongings.”

“I checked the pockets before I came down.” Daring hissed. “They're clean.”

“Where are the things from your pockets?” Mustafa asked, noticing that Daring was not wearing a jacket or carrying a bag.

“They're in my room. On the table.” Daring replied. She noted a devious expression on Mustafa's face. “Do you have a master key?”

“Of course, miss.” Mustafa said, holding it up for her to see.

“Could I use it, I think I forgot my keys in the room.” Daring asked.

“Certainly, miss Daring Do.” Mustafa agreed, handing her the master key.

“Is this the only one?” Daring eyed the key.

“Yes, miss. The only one. So I expect it back.” Mustafa said with authority.

Daring ruffled the feathers on her wing, and her room key fell out. After sliding the master key onto the same ring, she slid it back into her wing. She gave a coy smile to the desk clerk.

“I want to keep your sticky hooves out of my room, and my things.” Daring grinned, turning to leave.

“But what if I need to clean the rooms?” Mustafa asked helplessly from behind the desk.

“It can wait.” Daring replied over her shoulder.

Daring Do walked into the street, deciding to stop by a merchant to purchase a satchel. She realized it would be more convenient than stuffing things into her wing. For a moment, she considered going back to the hotel to collect her things, but she liked the idea of Mustafa having to squirm, so she left him there for a while longer, so she could look into some local folklore.

It was easy to find ponies to ask, because everyone was outside staring up at the sky. The sun was nowhere in sight, just the suns of other planets and solar systems gave light to the world. It just occurred to Daring that the moon was nowhere in sight. It was not a new moon, because the shadow of the moon was not there. The stars were all that gave light. Daring walked over to an old couple who looked almost scared to see the stars.

“Are you two alright?” Daring asked.

The two of them babbled in their native tongue before the old stallion turned to her. “Yes.”

“You don't look okay.” Daring Do eyed them. “What's the matter?”

The old stallion looked to his wife for a moment, and then spoke. “My family. They are firm believers of old superstitions.”

“And what do they say about this?” Daring enquired.

“My father used to tell me a story much like this.” The old stallion began. “There was an evil pharaoh who loved the night. He was said to be able to control the elements by using the moon. When his subjects did as they were told, giving him offerings of food and gold, they were aloud to live. But if they refused to pay, or could not provide, he would use his powers to kill those who had failed, making an example for those who survived.”

“That's ridiculous.” Daring stated. “But, why wouldn't they be able to offer him anything?” Daring, of course, knew her history, but she wanted to know what the local stories said.

“In those times, ponies could hardly provide for their families because the king controlled the Nile.” The stallion explained. “He only allowed water to be taken from it if an offering was made to him. Families who needed food would offer up family heirlooms to the king, in the hopes that they would appease him. His demands took almost all that his subjects had. But so long as he had as much as he could eat, and so long as he was rich, he did not care. When he died, his magic and terror faded with him, and a curse was put on his tomb.”

“A curse?” Daring asked nervously. “What kind?”

“The curse was to keep his magical powers and devices from controlling the elements and the tides. If the grave was desecrated, or if the king was disturbed from his rest, the powers would come back, and he would control Egypt, the moon and the elements once again. But there is another version.” The old stallion scratched his chin.

“What's that?” Daring moved closer, as if this was some well kept secret.

“Some say it was old age that killed the pharaoh. Some say he was assassinated because his magic protected them from disease and age. Other still say that he was buried alive in three sarcophagi, and the spells in the tomb kept him from escaping, and bound his soul to this earth.”

“That's a nice bedtime story.” Daring nodded. “Thank you.”

The last theory spooked Daring. As she walked away from the couple, she couldn't help but shudder. Being buried alive was a fate no one should have to face. She needed more input though, and asked all around town, finding little differences in the stories. All told of a king or queen that controlled the elements and used his or her powers to take from their subjects. The only change was how the pharaoh died. After nearly two hours or so, it was hard to tell with no sun, Daring decided that it would be a good time to return to the hotel and reclaim her things. She returned to the hotel to see Mustafa still sitting behind the desk. Ruffling her wings, Daring took out the master key and teasingly held it out in front of him.

“Miss Daring Do.” He grinned. “Your clothes are back from cleaning.” He pulled the jacket and helmet out from behind the desk.

The two of them exchanged what the other wanted and Daring returned to her room. When she was alone and locked into her room, Daring pulled her jacket on. She felt as if she was whole again. The jacket was like a part of her. It was her signature. Daring moved over to her bedside table and picked up her belongings. She slid the notebook into her pocket, along with the golden disc and slipped her wallet and keys into the other pocket.

“I got everything done, and all before the sun came up.” Daring was once again trying to lighten her own mood. The tales she had heard worried her, even though she didn't believe them. But what else could be causing the weird celestial phenomenon? “I need to get back to that tomb.” Daring said, pulling on her pith helmet.

Author's Note

And, we're off. I think this stories gonna turn out pretty well. Again, if you have any questions or corrections, don't hesitate to drop a comment.
-Cog out.