Tales Of Somnambula

Who in their right mind would name their daughter “Lighthouse”?

The sun wasn’t even out yet by the time I walked outside the house of worship. Turned out, the town’s inn wasn’t actually in the town, but a little distance away from it. Cheer-berry of yesterday didn’t exactly bother to remember that, and so I was left with two options: Either exit the town and look for it, or stay the night in the house of their goddess with the rest of the poor, unfortunate souls. Needless to say, I stayed here clutching my belongings - my bag and my necklace - and didn’t get a second of sleep.

Maybe she did, and was counting on me getting out at night and natural selection taking its course. Well, jokes on her, I survived. A new day is a new chance to claim what I want then get the heck out of here, and I’m taking it.

The night of yesterday wasn’t about to let go its grip of the town just yet, but said grip was starting to weaken when the sun’s faint glow appeared from the east. It sent its rays from behind the pyramid, making it look as if the thing itself was the source of the glare.

Pyramids. I have never seen one up close, but the feeling of dread it instilled unto me made me not want to think about it, not even look at it. For what reason would a structure of this size be built, and why in the direction of the morning sun? If the reason was helping block the sun by casting a shadow on the town, then wouldn’t it have been better to build it to the west so you'd get that shade in the afternoon when you need it the most? Then again, maybe the town was built after the pyramid and those who built it didn’t exactly think about such things. Oh, it is much too early to be taxing my coffee-less brain of this nonsense.

The desert is a land of geographical extremes. A most obvious example is the weather: The harsh heat of the sun should be a good taste of a sinner’s afterlife, it will surely send you there should you let it, while its slumber at night turns the land a shivering waste in which every step stabs the cold into the marrow of your bones. Seeing as how the yellow circle was taking its sweet time rising above the giant triangle, I was feeling every bit of the freezing sand in my hooves all the way into my shoulders.

Never mind that. What mattered was that I needed to find some ponies to talk to. The faster I can do this, the faster I can attain an excuse to get out of here. Which was a good point to bring mention to, now that I’ve remembered it: Where is everybody?

The streets were empty, the stalls desolate, and there was no sound to be heard nor movement to be felt. Half of me gave them the excuse of the time being far too early for waking up, and that surely someone like me would get up earlier if they didn’t feel comfortable sleeping to begin with. Well, if even their sun is taking this long to rise, then I’d be excused in deducing that Sloth is a sin this place has yet to cleanse itself from.

The chilling gust whipping past me teaming with my insomnia has allowed my mind to escape my wandering body. It ran by me the events of the day before. That mare. I wonder where she is now. I wonder who those five other mares she met at the gate were. Her friends? Perhaps. Did she tell them about me? Possibly. Did she laugh with them at me when she told them how she managed to play my nerves like the strings of a fiddle? Probably. Will she, or they, try to get back at me for giving her a hard time? Definitely. I know none of this helps, but I couldn’t resist thinking about it. I have made an enemy yesterday, of that mare. Of her, and that old voice, whoever its owner was. I messed up.

These thoughts threaded and weaved before me like a dream before I was jolted back to reality when I realized I almost planted my face into the sand for mindlessly stepping into a hole in the ground. It was then I noticed I have crossed half the town sleepwalking. Shaking my head and rubbing my eyes, I looked around to assess where I ended up. To my surprise, there was a small building with its door open. I could see rolls of fabric inside, and headless mannequins displaying the many costumes they have on sale. A boutique. Even at this early hour, this shop was open. They’re not all lazy bums after all.

Wiping my hooves on the matt outside then strolling in, I could not have felt more welcomed in a place I have not been in before like I was here. The soft carpet felt exceptionally soothing after the coarse sands of outside, and the warmth of the place was a mercy to my skin from the cold. There was no one inside whom I could see, but I figured they’d be here shortly if they bothered to open up this early. I found a large, comfortably padded wooden chair to sit on near a table that I supposed belonged to the owner since it hosted a sewing machine and other tools I was too illiterate of the craft to name. Nevertheless, the place was great. Now if only they had something to drink, then it’d be perfect.

“Oh, my,” a voice said, “I am sorry, sir. I was busy setting up the shop and did not notice we had a customer. I beg your pardon, we usually don’t have any at this early hour.”

I stood up trying to discern its direction. From my right, a mare emerged. She wore a lavender headband on her silky short magenta mane, and a lavender dress to match. A couple of gold earrings as well. I suppose running a boutique in a place like this does pay handsomely. And if her business is as clean as her hospitality, then she deserves every bit.

“I’m sorry,” I said, scrambling for an excuse to justify coming in unannounced. “I was just taking a walk outside and your place seemed nice, really warm and cozy, so I thought I’d come inside to take a closer look. That's all.”

“Please, do not worry yourself about that, sir,” she said. Her reassuring demeanor calming me down. “We welcome any and all customers, and you are no exception. Please, sit down. Would you like something to drink?” she asked as I did as instructed. Sweet mercy, if all the ponies here are as nice as she is, then this is going to be easier than I thought.

“Thank you very much, ma’am,” I replied. “If you don’t mind, could you please be kind enough to bring me something hot, like tea or coffee? I haven’t slept all night and I could use the caffeine.”

“I certainly can. It’ll be right here shortly,” she said. “Now, would mister be interested in trying out something he likes?” she pointed at the various dresses and jackets and shoes on display. “We have something for everybody.”

“Thanks a lot, ma’am. I will, in a minute, but I actually came here to search for someone. They are a friend of the family who went missing a long time ago,” I said, shifting my vision from her to the various items left and right. Then, my eyes caught a black jacket. It looked so soft and warm, and I couldn’t wait to try it on.

“I see. What a noble endeavor, mister is partaking in,” she replied. “There is little life could offer more than a good friend. This friend of yours must be special, for you to come to a place like this looking for them,” she said, sorting through the rolls of fabric and her other tools. Then someone came out the back and handed her a cup. She thanked them then took it with care. “Here you go, sir,” she handed it to me. “I hope it is to your liking.”

“Thanks,” I said, taking the cup. Black coffee. so hot you could see the steam rising from it even in the warmth of the place. I figured you’d be able to see it clearer should you step outside, but I didn’t feel like it. “Though I never actually met this friend of our family, they knew my mother. Mother told me to go look for them, and my search led me up here. And by the way, the name’s Harun.”

“Understood, Mr. Harun, sir. Do you know their name?” she asked, but I was already sipping my coffee. Black, bitter as life, and strong as those who oppose it. One sip, and the chemicals rushed to the top of my cranium then unleashed a bolt of lightning unto my entire body. I clenched my teeth and groaned at the overwhelming energy racing into every vein, striking every nerve, and pulling me back to life. Goosebumps scaled my skin as I was finally able to open my eyes proper. I was no longer tired. I felt rejuvenated, revitalized, reborn.

Then it all wore off after a few seconds, and I took another sip.

She looked at me worried. “Mr, Harun. Are you alright?” she asked. “Yes. absolutely,” I replied. “Thank you so much. Your coffee is fantastic. I never felt better. ”

She smiled. “I'm thankful you liked it. So, I couldn't help but notice you took a liking to that black coat over there.” How did you even know? “Does sir feel like trying it?” she asked, I quickly put the cup down and stood up. “Of course.”

I went to see this jacket. I couldn't discern what it was made of, but it was smooth on the outside and fluffy on the inside, it had a number of buttons alongside the middle where you were supposed to unbutton them so you'd wear it easily, and had many pockets of various sizes. I would most likely use the ones on the inside should I want to store anything, but having the option regardless was nice.

“It's really good. I'm taking it.” I exclaimed. “Really? wouldn't sir want to try out a few others before deciding?” she asked, rightfully so, but I wasn't that kind of person. If I saw something I liked, then that's it. Usually because I hated visiting markets because the crowds were too much, but I suppose the habit stays. I liked this place and its owner. Where was she yesterday?

“Nope. This one,” I said. With a content smile, she replied: “As you wish.” She folded the coat neatly into a bag and handed it to me. I gave her its price of fifty bits. Wasn't bad for something quality. I never minded spending the extra money when it meant getting its worth. The problem was I usually never had any to begin with.

“Thank you very much, sir,” she bowed with that smile still on her face. “Please visit again,” she said as I bowed back and prepared to leave. Wait, aren't I missing something?

“Oh, right,” I stopped in my tracks just as about to leave the shop. I hurried back inside where I found her fiddling with some things with her back turned to me. “I'm sorry, ma'am, but I need to ask you this and I forgot to mention it before, do you mind? It's about the person I talked about earlier.”

“I'm a bit busy at the moment, sir, so excuse me for not being able to give you my full attention,” she said, still turning her back to me doing whatever it is she was doing.

“No, not at all. It's alright. I only need you to answer this one question: Do you know someone around here called ‘Dalya’?”

She stopped.

“What did you say that name was?”

“Err, Dalya,” I answered. Alarmed at her sudden shift in tone. No longer happy and helpful, but serious and direct. “She's tall compared to most ponies. Yellowish skin. Jet black hair. Wears a red dress and a lot of gold jewelry. Not too old but not too young, either. I'd reckon she's a bit older than the both of us.”

She threw whatever was in her hooves and turned around.
“Give me the jacket,” she demanded. I complied.

She left the bag to the side and threw back my money at my face.

“I knew this was all too good to be true. I knew there was something wrong with you. I knew I shouldn't have trusted a stranger, and that you were just trying to weasel something out of me,” she burst into a fit of anger. What did I do?

“Ma'am, please, I don't understand. What did I say that upset you so much?”

“Oh, you know exactly what you did, you lying slithering reptile,” she said, shoving me out of the way. Kicking me out. “Get out, and tell your friends they'll get nothing from us! Out! I said out!”

She slammed the door behind me and Locked it. What was that all about?

***

I haven’t noticed how much time I spent in there. When I was kicked out the sun was already a fair bit above the pyramid, and everyone, thankfully, was out doing their jobs. That mare’s words still stuck in my mind, however. Her surprising turn, specifically. I was but inquiring about someone, why did she get so touchy?

Out the corner of my eye, I spotted another mare petting a stray cat. How nice. She was wearing a sky-blue sleeveless dress, and has tied her blonde hair into a couple of braids on both sides of her head. She seemed friendly enough, and so I decided to ask her next.

“Good day, ma’am,” I said, trying my best to sound friendly. It was a lot easier now that I had something other than contempt fueling my system. I’ll just ask her and be out of here in no time, or so I thought.

She jumped in shock and bolted to the next thing she could hide behind. In this case, a bunch of boxes off to the left. What, did she not see an oryx before? On a second thought, scratch that. I tried to approach the shivering nervous pony.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry if I frightened you, I really am. That wasn’t my intent. I only wanted to ask you a quick question and then be on my way. It won’t take a minute. I promise.”

“O… okay…” was all her soft voice could muster before slowly stepping out of hiding. The poor thing, she must have experienced what I did when Glasses yesterday shouted her Hellos in my ear. Though I have no business deriding anyone for wearing glasses considering I wear a pair myself. Glass houses and rocks, Harun.

She stayed a few feet away avoiding any eye contact. I noticed she had a horn. She was a magic pony, what the natives call a “Unicorn”. Well, they say magic, but all I’ve seen thus far was telekinesis. I always wondered if their magic abilities extended beyond that. Then again, I never have met anybody revered for their exceptional magical power, so maybe I’m hanging with the wrong crowd. Certainly won't find any in this hick town.

“Thank you very much for your time, ma'am. I won’t waste any of it, you have my word,” I reassured. I can already tell anxiety was getting to her. “So, I was looking for a tall pony wearing a red dress and lots of gold jewelry. She is called Dalya. Have you heard of anybody who fits this description around here?”

She became restless the second she heard the name..

“I… Err… I don’t…”

“Yes?”

“I… don’t… HELP!” then she zoomed out of sight. What is wrong with everybody?

“There he is!” one raspy voice shouted. “Get him!” another followed. Those were the last words I heard before something slammed into me and sent the both of us rolling on the ground. Whoever it was grabbed me by the neck and pinned me down. On closer inspection, she was a flying pony, a “Pegasus”, of pink skin, short azure blue hair, and a plum purple sleeveless dress. She slammed a headbutt against my forehead.

“YOU!”

“Me?”

“YEAH, YOU!”

“Why me?”

“LEAVE DALYA ALONE AND GET OUT OF HERE!”

“What?”

With seething blood of boiling rage she fastened her grip on my collar and sprung to the sky. She kept ascending until the town was but a suggestion underneath. I could see the wind dragging the clouds around me. Wait. no. Please no. Anything but this.

“Please, no. Put me down, please,” gripping my soul by the seams. “I don’t know what I’ve done, but whatever it is, I’m sorry. Please let me go. I beg you. Please.”

She smiled. Why smile? Please, no smile. Just down. Go down now?

She let go.

“No!” I cried, shutting my eyes, gripping my necklace, and preparing for the inevitable. This is how it ends. I die by the hooves of a pony whom I don’t even know, falling thousands of meters down to earth. I’ve never cared for my life, but I also never wanted to go like this. This is it. Everything I worked for, everyone I loved. None of that mattered. This was my gate to the afterlife, and I’m way overdue.

Mother, I am sorry. I could not keep my promise to you. You never raised a coward, he only appeared after you left. Would you be waiting for me on the other side? Would you be happy that we’re finally together, or would you be disappointed that I couldn’t fulfill your wish? Did you send others to look for her as well, or have your faith in me, misplaced by the looks of it, just that great? I am sorry, mother. Forgive me.

Goodness, I’ve been falling for a long time. Am I gone? Is it done? It doesn’t feel different. I don’t feel any different. It feels warm. Too warm. I was told people leaving this world were supposed to feel the cold imminence of their doom. What is happening?

I opened my eyes. Green unicorn. Long blue hair. White and light blue clothes. Horn glowing. My direction. Lots of ponies. Old orange pony yelling at pink Pegasus. Looked at self. Hovering above ground. Gently put down. Red pony close.

“Harun. We all saw you falling and flailing and screaming. Good thing we caught you in time. Are you alright?” she asked. I don’t know, you tell me.

“I just fell from the clouds. I could have died. How do you think I feel?” I answered. Heaving every breath into my lungs one after the other. My heart burning. My eyes bulging. My pulse racing.

“I see this experience have not taught you a single thing,” the green unicorn said. Well, this green unicorn. Blondie was nowhere to be seen from what I could tell. “You know how they say ‘Good things happen to good ponies?’ Consider this day, and reflect.”

Humorous. Is your blood as cold as your heart? I would have laughed if my throat wasn’t so dry.

“Nadia, this is not the time,” the red pony said. Wait, that’s Muneera from yesterday. Or was it Maryam? Muhra?

“Look,” she turned her attention to me, “just do as I do. Inhale,” and she raised her hoof slowly up her chest to her neck taking in a large breath. I did the same.

“Good. Now, exhale,” she gently let all the air go while lowering her hoof down. I followed suit.

“Excellent. Just keep doing that a few more times and you’ll be better in no time,” she said. I did as I was told. Shortly after I felt myself return to normal. I took the chance to look around. There was quite the crowd gathered around us. Of them, my eyes focused on the old pony and the pegasus from before. I could not tell what they were talking about since they weren't exactly close, and also because the commotion all those ponies caused meant I couldn’t hear my own thoughts, but I could discern his tone; firm and scolding. He pointed my way and she started to walk in our direction. Seconds later, she was followed by another pink pony, her skin seemed fairer by comparison, however. She wore a sleeveless lime green dress, a couple of bracelets on her right hoof, and tied her long, scarlet red hair into a messy ponytail. I wonder if it was intentional.

“Look, I already said I was sorry. What more do you want?” the pegasus said.

“Just because you didn’t see it doesn’t mean Mr. Cactus didn’t scold me, too,” her pink friend retorted. “I just told you to scare him. Teach him a lesson. You went to fifteen right from the get-go. You almost killed him, if not by dropping him then by the sheer anxiety he must be feeling right now. What were you thinking?”

“Don’t worry about him,” said the blue-haired green unicorn. “Manara, for whatever reason, has made it her mission to look after the rude twerp. He’s better now, for all that’s worth.” Oh, so that was her name.

Cutting through the crowd, the shop owner came rushing in, with the shy blonde unicorn behind her. “Manara,” she said, “we came here as fast as we could when Hanan told me everything. Are you okay, my dear?” she asked. You know, I was the one who had all that trouble happen to him. Maybe a bit of that worry my way?

The crowd cut itself in half, and in came the old orange pony. “Stranger,” directed at me, who else, “my name is Cactus Fruit, the elder of this town, and its caretaker. I know everything about everything that happens to everypony around here. Most importantly, I know of what you have done both yesterday and today.”

“Yes, Mr. Cactus, sir,” your name is ridicules verbalized. “I am sure you do,” I replied. “I got lost in the desert, took Rosette’s infuriating questions all the way here, slept uncomfortably all night in your house of the poor, took everybody else’s rudeness for asking a legitimate question about a pony I’m looking for, and lastly was almost killed by a pony who is supposed to be under your watch.”

I stood up, shaking the lingering shivers from previous fright. “Look, sir, I have no business with anybody and anyone here aside from this one thing: My family lost a friend long ago, and I came here, to this town, because I was told that pony was here. I only need to know if that’s true or not. The sooner I do, the sooner I leave. But every time I try to talk to anybody about this pony, things like this happen, and I don’t know why.”

“Oh, is that all?”

“Yes, that’s all. I swear.”

“You should have said so before, son,” he said. I am definitely, positively not your cursed son, so quit your condescension. “Tell me, who is this pony you’re looking for?”

“Tall pony. Wears a red dress and lots of jewelry. Called Dalya. You heard about her, sir?”

They all gasped in unison, and Cactus was not happy.

“I should have known,” he said, “that you were up to no good. Ever since you raised your voice at me yesterday I have kept a close eye on you, and my suspicions proved correct.” Well, that answers one question. Of all the ponies in this town, I ended up disrespecting the most important one. Just my luck. “You are a stranger, and the most a stranger gets is hospitality. We do not sell each other, that’s our way,” he said. As if I just insulted him. What’s so special about this one pony, anyway?

He pointed to me, “you are to leave this town and never come back. You will spend this night at the inn outside. And if I ever see you here again, you will regret the consequences,” he said, then he turned to Manara.

“You. You brought him here, and you will take him out. You all will go with them,” I presumed he was talking to the five mares of before. “Now go, get out of here. and to the rest of you,” addressing the crowd, “don’t you have things to do? Go. Get out of here. Scram. Leave.”

***

Coming to terms with your own mortality, however enlightning, is terrifying. Never before have I realized how fragile our right to existence - life - is, that anything could steal it away at a moment’s notice. The shivers were gone now, but the orange hue of the afternoon sun, ready to hand the task of overwatching us mere mortals to the moon, did not help ease my concerns.

Manara and I were told to leave the town and head to the inn of a one Mrs. Trotsworth. Alright, couldn’t be worse than my previous night now, could it? We left through the Northern gate, it and the Southern gate considerably smaller than the Eastern and Western ones for some reason.

“You know,” I started, “for a second I thought the ponies of this town were actually nice. They were hospitable and generous. Until I mentioned something they didn’t like in which case there come the torches and pitchforks.”

“That’s your fault,” said blue-haired unicorn walking to my left, “for being a rude jerk.”

“Nadia, cut him some slack. I mean Sarkash did drop him from the clouds. That’s a heart attack in and of itself,” said the pink pony next to her.

“Are you going to keep bringing that up?” said the pink pegasus to their left, “and I’m so sorry, lady Samar, but wasn’t that your idea?”

“Her idea,” said the shop owner pony, even more to the left, “was to scare him into behaving better. Possibly into dropping his search for ‘her’.” I am still here, you know. You are terrible at keeping secrets. “Of course, you took it to the extreme, as you always do. If it weren’t for Hanan here,” said gesturing at the blonde unicorn left of them, “I wouldn’t have known about it in the first place. It didn’t matter, because when we arrived everything was over and done.”

“Thanks, Sundus,” said Manra, all the way over there. “Say, Harun, you never met my friends before, have you?”

“I did, actually,” I almost had to shout these words just so she could hear me. “I wish I didn’t, but I did.”

“Okay,” she ran up to me, crossing the other five self-appointed bodyguards the old coot insisted come with us. “You just arrived in our town but you’re already leaving. It’s a shame, but what can we do, right?” Not trying to end my life is a good start. Perhaps answering my question? “I never had the chance to introduce you to my friends. So here they are, from left to right:

Nadia,”
The blue-haired unicorn raised an eyebrow.

“Samar,”
The pink pony waved with a huge smile on her face.

“Sarkash,”
The pink pegasus crossed her hooves and managed a single “Hey.”

“Sundus,”
“Hello, dear,” said the shop owner.

“Hanan,”
The blonde unicorn anxiously cracked a tiny, forced smile.

“and lastly: yours truly,” she pointed at herself. I wish someday to be as happy as this pony, I really do. Or take whatever she’s taking, there’s always that possibility.

“I told you I have met with all of them, to varying degrees of annoyance,” I said, “why did you even bother introducing us if you know I’m never coming back here to begin with?”

“To have something to remember us by,” she replied. Believe me, I have plenty to remember this week by already, I thought, but you are by far the most pleasant member of the group. You may continue. “I know you had a bad day,” an understatement, “but I hope one day, back home, you will remember what happened here, remember us, and hopefully it'll bring a smile to your face. After everything that happened, it’s the least we could do.”

“The least we could do we are doing right now,” said Nadia, “we were told to babysit him until we reach Mrs. Trotsworth’s Inn so he can have a place to spend the night, as all strangers do. I would’ve kicked him out and left him to the wolves, if it was up to me.” Oh, I’ll remember that. Just you wait.

“Speaking of which,” turning the conversation to Manara again, if just to stop the insufferable one from running her mouth. “where is that Inn, anyway?”

“It’s a bit up North,” Manara said, “shouldn’t be too far. I think we’re close.”

“We are,” Sarkash said. “There it is, ” then they all stopped.

Up ahead lay this inn. A large, two-story building. Its front yard adorned with many trees, mostly date palm ones, its back facing a hill, and to its left a sizeable body of water, most likely a spring or an oasis. It even had a little bridge on one side where the water from the oasis ran through a creek underneath it into who-cares-where.

“I'll be staying in that?” I asked Manara, stoked. She nodded. “Sweet.”

“Alright,” said Sundus, “we will stay here. You take him inside, give him to Mrs. Trotsworth. We are not going there.”

“Yeah,” said Samar, “she’s scary.”

“Perhaps they’ll get along just fine, you never know,” said Nadia.

“Okay, okay,” Manara gave up, “I will. But you all owe me one.”

The two of us walked to the Inn leaving the other five waiting behind us. Even then, I could feel their eyes burning holes into the back of my skull. I was just glad to get out of there.

Opening a thick wooden door and stepping inside, the place looked normal when compared to other places I’ve stayed in, but was more decorated. Felt like a house rather than a motel. The walls had large, crescent-shaped pieces of cloth with lots of frills on their lower side. The place was clean and carpeted. The receptionist desk was the first thing you’d see coming in, and to its left and right were lots of free spaces with resting cushions laid on the walls. On the roof of each side was a chandelier lighting up the area, and there were stairs leading up to the upper floor.

At the receptionist desk sat an old mare who I figured was this Mrs. Trotsworth they kept talking about. Light blue skin, short messy teal-blue mane, and a sleeveless frilly purple dress. A rather big pair of triangular glasses, large oval white earrings, and three different necklaces. I could see gold, pearl, and what seemed to be a string holding five pieces of green rectangular stones. I had no idea what those were, and I doubted she’d tell.

“Good evening, Mrs. Trotsworth,” Manara beat me to the greetings. “Good evening, young lady,” she said, the she looked at me. “Who’s he?”

“Harun. Harun Abdul-Mujeeb.” You know, talking about others in their presence as if they weren’t there is rude. “I’d like to stay the night, please.”

“Ah, a customer.” What gave it away? “Come here, sweetheart. Don’t be afraid,” she said. I wasn’t afraid yet. Peeved was more like it. She opened a big book, wrote a couple of numbers under two columns named “Room” and “Date”, she told me to sign under the third column, she gave me a key with a number on it and told me to go up through the stairs to the left.

“And remember, honey. Cheapskates who try to sleaze out of paying will always get chased by Karma.”

“Don’t worry about that, ma’am,” I assured. Wasn’t a thief, never will be. “Though I don’t believe in superstition.”

“Oh, Karma is very much real, young one,” she said, gesturing at a black and brown behemoth of a dog wearing a pink leash with “KARMA” written on it. I laughed. A pony with a sense of humor. I like her already.

“Oh, I think we will get along just fine,” I said, “thanks, ma’am.” She smiled, “To your room, now get out of here.”

I turned back to Manara. “I’m sorry for all the trouble,” I said. She signaled me to stop. “Don’t worry about it,” she told me. “You keep worrying and overthinking things all the time, and it never does you any good,” which I had to admit was correct. “Look, just go to your room, have a good night’s sleep, and wait for us to pick you up tomorrow. We will take you from here to the Las Pegasus train station, and you’ll decide where you’ll go from there. Besides, I really want to give that pony - the one who tried to rip you off - a piece of my mind.” She heard that part too, huh? “Is that okay with you?”

What could I possibly say to all this kindness? “Yes, miss. Thank you very much.”

“No problem. Good night.”

“Good night.”

She went out the door to her friends, who were, no doubt, wondering what took her so long. I looked at the door, then at the iron key and the number three carved into its head, let out a sigh, then went to my room.