Tales Of Somnambula

What is going to happen next?

Sitting on the soft cushions by the wall in the lounge, resting on the decorated pillows on which the craftsmanship of someone, unnamed and unknown, ran wild, blending the golden seems with the crimson fabric in hypnotizing hexagonal shapes, this thought lingered in the back of my head: What’s next?

Let’s say for a minute that I got the information I came here for. I knew all there is to know about this Dalya, confound that name, and then I left. What do I do with this information? I would’ve fulfilled my mother’s wish, sure, but then what?

“Tea, sir?” the lanky inn’s pony said, breaking me out of my trance. “Sure, thanks,” I said. The afternoon was almost here, and I figured a refreshing drink would help me retain focus.

“Say, what is your name?” Just now remembering that I haven’t asked him his name yet. “Name’s Anwar, sir,” he replied. The radiant. Your parents must’ve loved you. “And her name is Narjis,” he said, pointing to the purple unicorn in the pink dress as she served another pony his meal. The Narcissus flower. She definitely looked the part. “Thanks,” I said.

A small glass cup of red tea. Boiled for hours, since morning if I were to guess, and served with just enough sugar to negate the bitterness while still retaining the rich taste. Add a drop of milk and it’d be a dead-ringer for Karak. I would’ve preferred some actual Karak this time of day, but I’ll take what I can get. “You can leave it here after you’re done,” he said. “If you want a refill, just call.” Then he left.

What comes next is a good question. One that I’ll keep reserved for another time. I do not seek to gain anything from searching for this pony. Nothing besides closure, if I’m frank. Not my closure either, but my mother’s.

Mother… it’s been five years since you left. Five years since I’ve last seen your gentle smile. Since I’ve heard your soothing voice. Since I’ve felt your tender touch. Five years and this abyss in my heart only grows deeper. And I keep falling. Drowning in the oppressive darkness. Decaying. Like a corpse that walks among the living. Soulless. Aimless. Purposeless, without you.

Helpless.

I was helpless to save you. I’ve watched you gasp your last breath. Too poor for medicine, too young to work, and too proud, on your word, to beg. Helpless, as I saw the life slipping through the cracks of your tired, worn hooves. Your eyes, which once burned with the flames of life, extinguished by the inevitability of death. Helpless to fend off the overwhelming darkness. Helpless to do anything.

Anything, except for one thing. Your final wish. Your last request.

I don’t know who this Dalya is, and I don’t care. I’m not doing it for myself. I’m doing all of this for you. And I swear, by the light above, the light that shone from the heavens and kindled your heart, that I will see this through, to my bitter end if I had to. I will fight both life and death if it meant making you happy one last time. I promise you that.

Mother. I love you.

Mother. believe in me.

***

The afternoon’s sun cast an orange hue on the sand as it began preparing to leave the sky, hiding behind the jagged mountains to the west. The evening breeze helped alleviate the heat, but it also smelled, strangely enough, of salt. Sea salt. Was this town close to the sea? Was there, perhaps, a port town nearby? If so, then San Palomino might just be smaller than I ever expected it to be. Or it could very well be playing with my head. Tugging on past memories of the seas I sailed and the marshes I waded to get here. Either way, it doesn’t matter.

Another gust of wind zipped past from the west. This one was different. It triggered a feeling of dread within me, mainly because of its familiarity. Sand. Lots of it. This was not going to bode well.

Northern gate, Somnambula. Everyone is up and about. I could see the geezer next to what seemed to be a fruit cart (where do they get them if they’re in the middle of nowhere?), and I could tell Manara and her friend are waiting outside. I could tell because she’s waving at me.

“Well,” said her unicorn friend, “look who finally decided to show up. Mr. Important. You took your sweet time getting here, didn’t you?”

“That I did not,” I replied, “because I know if I did you wouldn’t be sitting here waiting, with all your complaining about how everyone alive is wasting your precious time, your excellency, madam Nadine.”

“That’s Ms. Nadia to you.”

“That’s ‘someone who I’m never gonna see again and who hates me regardless so I shouldn’t bother’, but I appreciate the correction.”

“You’re despicable.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I’m glad I won’t have to see your ugly mug again.”

“I hate you too, my dear.”

“The both of you, stop!” shouted Manara. “I can’t believe your manners. You will get along, even for a few minutes, or I’m not going through with this. Now, what do we say first and foremost when meeting others?”

We shared a groan and said: “Hi”.

“Don’t say that to me. To each other.”

We turned to face one another, and through our gritted, screeching teeth managed a “Hi”.

“Much better,” she said. “Anything else you two wanna get out of your systems?” We didn’t bother replying. “Good. Now, here’s how this is going to go: Cactus is sitting in the middle of the town’s square, right next to his apple cart. Do you see him?” To me. I nodded. “Nadia and I will go there. We will tell him you’re here and that you just wanna talk, and that everything that happened up until this point was a huge misunderstanding. When we give you the signal, we’ll step aside and let you two talk it out. From there, it’ll be all on you. Okay?”

“Understood.”

“Are you ready?”

Not like I had a choice. “Yes.”

“Well then, this should only take a moment. Come on, Nadia.” And she took her friend, who gave me a wretched glare, with her.

I saw the whole thing, but couldn’t quite make anything of it since they were all a bit too far out of range. They initiated conversation, they looked at me, he yelled, they talked a bit more, he yelled again, they talked even more, and he seemingly gave up. Manara signaled me to come in. It was time.

One deep breath, then I entered. I could tell they were all staring at me because the place went quiet for a bit before buzzing with action once again. They weren’t important. The only important one was straight ahead of me, and behind him stood the two ponies. Manara, I assume, she was concerned, and her friend, I was certain, because she wanted to watch the show.

We stood there, by his cart. Silence accompanied us for a good minute. His face spoke of great irritation and anger. Of judgemental, scornful disdain for the very fact that I’m sitting here, existing in the same space he is. But also, to my surprise, of concern. Possibly regret. That old face, that facade of a cold old pony, hid too much. It was then that the words of Mrs. Trotsworth came back to me. And surely, they were right. Let’s see how far they’ll get me.

“Hello, Mr. Cactus, sir. It’s my pleasure to meet you again.”

“I was very clear in telling you to leave. Why did you come back?”

“To set the record straight between us, and to apologize for the many misunderstandings that plagued our first few meetings.” Slow and steady. “I have talked to Mrs. Trotsworth back at the inn - she sends her regards as well - and she informed me exactly of what I was doing wrong. I know now that that name, that pony, has a bad history with you and the townfolk, and that I shouldn’t have tried to stick my nose into affairs I know nothing about. I know now that I was wrong. I am sorry.”

He said nothing.

“However, I must know the truth behind this pony, the one who my late mother cared for so much she not only called a friend, but a best friend. The one who she, even on her deathbed, remembered and instructed me to look for. I am not doing this for my own sake, I’m doing it for the sake of the one who raised me and cared for me. This is the only way in which I could repay her. I hope you will undertsand.”

Nothing yet.

“So, from the beginning: My name is Harun. Harun Abdul-Mujeeb. The son of a poor, ragged mare who lived in the slums of the capital city of Rawdah. A Saddle Arabian who climbed treacherous mountains and crossed raging seas just to reach Equestria, and then searched relentlessly for a clue, a whisper, a word, anything that’d get him closer to finding this one pony who his mother cherished so much. To bringing peace to her tired soul.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he turned around and started dusting his apples.

“Sir, you do not need to believe a word I say, and that is fine. But know that I will not leave until I know the truth of who this pony is and what happened to her. If you close a door in my face, I will simply find another. I will not leave until I find my answers. That is the only way you will get rid of me. So allow me to ask you this: Who is this Dalya?”

He sighed and put the apple down. “Ingrid,” he murmured, “you just had to bring this kid into this mess, hadn’t you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Son,” turning to face me now, “your reasons are yours and yours alone. But before I decide if I should tell you what you want to know, I have to express my sympathy for the mare who troubled herself with raising you. Because, if what you said is true, you do not reflect her teachings, not one bit.” Thanks, I guess. “Second, let me ask you a question of my own: What is knowledge to you?”

Odd timing for a philosophy lesson, but I’ll play along. “Knowledge is power. Without knowledge of what is, or was, we can’t make informed decisions, and thus can’t function properly as individuals.”

“Correct,” he replied, “but before that. Before knowledge comes into the hands of those who could harness its power, what is it then?”

I considered for a bit, but couldn’t come up with anything. Seeing this, he gave me an apple. “Eat,” he said. I took a bite but immediately spat it out because it tasted awful. I looked at it a second time. Ripe on the outside, rotten on the inside. “What is the meaning of this?”I asked as Nadia snickered silently in the back.

“I’ll give you this one free of charge, and the apple too: Knowledge is complicity. It is involvement. And in that way, it is action. The knowledge that is trapped in books or in the minds of who possess it, never to escape or see the light of day, is wasted. In the case of this example, I knew that the apple was rotten, but gave it to you anyway. If I were to actually sell it to you, I would have been complicit in an immoral act. Cheating, that is.”

“Okay.”

“However, the knowledge that one chooses to find about or apply in their life is a great responsibility. What this knowledge is, who to teach it to, how to work it into one’s life, and even the very price of knowing it. This is all a responsibility the one who acquires the knowledge takes upon themselves to uphold. A burden they must carry for the rest of their life. It’s why some say that ignorance is bliss. It relieves you from that responsibility. In the apple’s case, you carried no responsibility because you didn’t know the apple was rotten. You were ignorant of that fact, and thus you were not to blame for it.”

“That’s not what the law says.”

“Legality and morality do not look eye to eye often, my son.”

Which was, more often than not, true. “I see.”

“You don’t.” He’s right. I didn’t. “If you did, you wouldn’t have come back here.” He took another apple, sliced it into four pieces, and gave me one. “Here, this one’s fine. Eat.” It didn’t stop me from inspecting it first before putting it in my mouth. Tasted good.

“Appreciate the lesson, sir. But I still want answers.”

“Do you really? How can you appreciate something you don’t understand?”

My patience was running thin. “I don’t know. All I know is that I’m not leaving until I get what I came here for.”

“You don’t want to know, is what I’m trying to tell you,” he said. Excuse me? “Go back home. Tell whoever sent you that you failed. Tell them she disappeared without a trace. I’m sure the dead don’t care how you live your life. Surely can’t voice their disapproval, for one.”

Why you… “I’m sorry. Did you waste all that time just so you could tell me to go home?”

“I didn’t say that. I told you to not get into trouble you’re not equipped to handle. Now leave, before you choke biting what you can clearly not chew.”

“I told you, old one, I’m not leaving until I know.”

“Well, I wish you luck, because I’m not telling you anything. It’s for your own good.”

It was at that moment that I was filled with unholy, blood-red urges. I had to stop myself from putting my hooves on his fragile neck and twisting it broken like a bottle lid. “I don’t remember asking your advice on anything, first off. Second, I told you before, I’m not moving an inch until I get what I came here for.”

“Come on, Cactus. Tell him.” We both heard a loud gruff voice shouting at us in the distance. At the eastern gate stood a giant pony. Bearded, clad in black, with a messy nest of dirty brown hair covering his head. Scars filled his face. His right hoof was covered in a shoulder-length leather glove. He wore the smile of psychopaths, and was heading right towards us. “Boy has had enough of your riddles, wouldn’t you say?”

Outback, I saw Manara take shelter behind Nadia, who herself looked like she saw the face of death. The entire town stopped in its tracks. Cactus wasn’t phased, but he didn’t look too happy about it, either. “I don’t remember asking you a single thing. What do you want?”

He shook his head. “No, no, no, Cactus. That wasn’t very nice. Is that how you greet your friend after all this time?” He chuckled. Nothing about this guy felt right. He looked as if a demon wore a fake suit of flesh and skin.

“Leave. Now.” Cactus growled.

“Oh, my. Aren’t we feisty today? And here I was, troubling myself and coming all the way down here from my ivory throne just so I could mingle among the mortals and help you welcome your new guest. Cactus, friend, I am wholly disappointed in you.” No emotions and no sincerity, only theatrics. I half expected him to pull a knife out of his pocket any second.

“He doesn’t need to get involved in this. He doesn’t know anything. Leave him out of it.”

“Is that so? But he seems so determined to know. You shouldn’t leave others in suspense. It’s quite a bit impolite if you ask me.”

At that point, something in my mind snapped. I have just about had it. I knew this stallion was bad news, but I didn’t care. “That’s enough!” I said. “Why can’t anybody here speak normally? I want answers, for crying out loud, now. Who is Dalya, and why is everyone too afraid to speak that name?”

He smiled and roared with laughter. “See what you did? You left the boy feeling neglected. How utterly tragic.” Then he turned to me. “Listen here, my boy, and let me tell you the story that nobody here dares tell. A story of hope, fear, love, and loss. Starring your very own Dalya. And his son is in there, too, if you can believe it.”

“I said-” Cactus uttered before the giant oaf slapped him across the face with his left hoof and lifted him effortlessly by the neck. “Dragging yourself to your grave in this old age and still no manners. Didn't your mother ever tell you it was rude to interrupt?” Cactus was choking. Any more of this and he was going to suffocate.

“Put him down,” I yelled. “With pleasure,” he replied. He threw him right at me. I fell right at the fruit cart trying to catch him, breaking it to bits. He was unharmed, save for a swollen cheek, though he struggled to breathe. “Are you okay?” I asked. He coughed, then nodded.

“As I was saying: Once upon a time, there was a small, quiet town called Somnambula. This town. One day a mare of unknown origins came here. She crawled the desert, hungry and thirsty, in search of shelter from whatever it was she was running from. She was pregnant. The good ponies of this town helped her and provided for her, and even gave her a house of her own. She was tall, wearing a red dress. Her name was Dalya. Sounds familiar? No family or friends to speak of. She settled in and gave birth to one little filly. She loved her daughter and regarded her as the light of her life. Her lighthouse guiding her through the thunderous storm. A blessing in a life full of trials.”

What?

“Then one day, years later, a group of evil bandits, called the San Palomino Serpents, barged into town. They demanded they be given whatever they wanted or else. This mare, alongside the reckless son of the town’s chief, were killed trying to fend them off.”

“No…”

“Yes, my boy. Since then, a dark cloud hovered over the town. Everybody lost hope. They knew that those thugs would make them pay for the deeds of these two heroic but foolish individuals. They weren’t allowed to leave the desert. They gave tax to their oppressors. And they lived in servitude ever since.”

“Wait, but that means-”

“Exactly what you think it means. Sunny Fruit, his son, was gone. Dalya left her one little child to be in the chief’s care. That child’s name was Manara Mubarak.”

I looked back at Manara. Was it true? What did I just hear?

“And that, you’ll find, also explains why some were either avoiding you or were hostile to you. They thought, unreasonably, that I sent you here to rub salt on the wound. Not realizing that I’ll more than likely just come down to teach them a lesson if I needed to, I prefer the more intimate approach. Not our friend Cactus here, he doesn’t think so. He but thinks you stupid. And not the two idiots that tried to kill you, they’re naturally not too bright.”

“But that means you are...”

He bowed. “The head of the Serpents, boy. I am the sun that shines upon this land, and the moon which illuminates its darkest nights. I am the sand on which you tread, and the wind which carries the clouds along. I am the desert itself.” A burst of maddening laughter filled the air. “My name is Steel. At your service.”

What kind of demon are you?

“But, you know, that was all in the past. What happened had happened, and you can’t change it. No magic in all the land can turn back the clock, or so I’m told. But, as the senile old fool was yammering on about earlier: Knowledge is involvement. Now that you know what happened, I can’t let you leave this place. Or perhaps, I can. You pose no threat to me.”

He walked a few steps back, then turned to face us again and pointed to the northern gate. “I shall give you the choice to decide since I’m feeling generous today: You either leave through the door, go home, and forget any of what happened here ever did. Or, you can stay and share their fate. The choice is yours.”

***

“Do what’s right, help those in need, and tell the truth even if it killed you.”

As I stood in the town’s square, facing this demon, looking him dead in the eyes, trying to process what I’ve just heard, your words came back to me. You always taught me to do what’s right, even to my detriment. You always taught me to never take the easy way out. You always said that scoundrels infest this world, and that I shouldn’t call myself your son should I ever choose to become one, and that a noble soul should never leave its body without a cause. “May the eyes of cowards never know rest.”

He stood in front of me like a mountain. Tall, formidable, chilling. He looked right through me. He froze the blood in my veins and petrified my body up to my spine. I felt my legs trembling beneath me. I couldn’t have taken him. I can’t take him. I should leave. I must leave.

But that wouldn’t be the one you raised, now would it? You never raised a coward, he only emerged after you left.

I turned around and looked back at everyone. Cactus was on the ground leaning on what remained of his cart, coughing and gasping for air. Manara sat beside him, and Nadia was with them, shielding them, trying her best to not let the fear consume her. She looked nothing like the pony I’ve seen before. Feral, ferocious, ready to strike. Like an animal backed into a corner. All around them were the ponies of this town crippled by fear and hiding behind anything they could find.

I felt a gust of wind rushing past us carrying a bit of sand, a taste of what’s to come. A feeling all too familiar to me, a sandstorm, and it was coming really fast. It brought to mind a prayer you used to say to me every day. “May the wandering wind take you where your heart desires. May the light of justice illuminate your path to the truth.”

May your soul find rest sooner than later, dear mother, because I’ve made up my mind.

One deep breath. Turned around. “I’m staying.”

“No!” pleaded Cactus. “Son, please. I beg of you, get out of here while you still can.”

“Harun, please,” said Manara. “Listen to him. Do as he says. Don’t throw your life away. He’s going to kill you.”

I gave them a smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

Steel hissed a laugh. “How sweet, the boy thinks himself a hero. Alright then, may the merciless embrace of death take you.”

The wind whisked past us, picking up speed. I could tell it was only a matter of time.

“Come on, boy,” he shouted. “What are you waiting for? Have at me.”

Just a little more.

“You want me dead, don’t you?”

I could hear the storm howling in the distance. Any second now.

“Show me the strength of your convictions. Come on.”

“I never told you before because you never can shut up, but I am no hero. Heroes don’t exist. There exist only creatures like us, faced with reality, forced to make a choice. And I have made mine.”

He looked in the distance behind me, realized what I was going for, then laughed.

“And let me tell you something else. Justice is as apparent as the sun. But the wicked such as yourself, they have blinded themselves to the light.”

The demon bared his fangs, then the storm finally hit the town. Ingulfing it in a massive whirlwind of sand, blocking out the sun, painting the sky in scarlet, and eliminating visibility. Welcome to my world. “Light of the heavens, I call upon thee. Grant me thy power, make me one with the winds and earth, and blind mine enemy so their eyes could see naught but a mirage. May the sand be my veil and the gales be my cloak. سراب !”

He raised his hoof over his face to protect his eyes. The second he heard these words, I have already merged with the storm. To him, and everyone else, I was gone.

“Come on, boy. Is that all you’ve got?” he shouted. “I’m starting to lose my patience. I don’t have time to play hide and seek.” Me neither. Without your vision, you can’t find anything to hit, thus you can’t put that body to use. You are just a big target now. My target.

One punch to the lower left abdomen left him squealing like a pig. A kick to the back of his hind legs brought him to his knees. Another punch to his right cheek left him dazed. And another kick to his neck kept him wallowing in agony. One punch. One kick. One punch. One kick. Weak but methodical. Each time a different place. Each time another dreadful howl of pain escapes his mouth.

I knew the storm wouldn’t last forever, and I knew he was going to tear me apart if I let him. He must go. Now.

I stood beside him, brandished my long, sharp horns, and prepared to strike. The second he stood up I ran up to him and plunged my horns on his left side. He shrieked. I drove them deeper and deeper into the base. He wiggled and writhed. I garnered all the strength I had left and with one heave lifted him up above my head and threw him over my back. The earth itself quacked when his enormous body hit the ground.

He spasmed for a minute, then stopped moving.

It’s over.

I won.

His corpse lay there, drenched in blood. The storm subsided. The sun shone its light again. I saw Manara, and Cactus, and Nadia. Their eyes were wide with amazement.

I fell.

My limbs could carry me no longer. I plummeted to the ground. Landed on my side. I was breathless. I was powerless. Deprived of energy. But I won. I did it.

I looked at them. I expected someone to come help me. Their faces did not change a beat. Why are you still afraid? He is no more. He is dead.

“Well,” my heart stopped when I heard his voice again. “You certainly are brave for someone your size. That’s the first time someone’s touched me in years.” He laughed. Why? You’re supposed to be dead. I just killed you. “I like you, boy.” I could feel his every step shaking the ground beneath us as he limped his way to me. “It’s just too bad that you won’t live long enough so I can show you my appreciation. But first,” he was above me now. Our eyes met for one brief moment, and the realization of my impending demise sinked right in. “I think I’ll take a souvenir. To commemorate the occasion.”

He pinned my head down and with one swift, harsh motion he broke my horn, then quickly snapped the other. He held them up. “The spoils of war,” he said, “but I have no use for two of the same. Here, I’ll give your ‘friends’ something to remember you by.” And he threw one of them to where the three terrified ponies were held up. “And as for you, you should have taken my offer.” He lifted my weary body by the neck and held me up high. “You will not live to see the dawn of another day. I will enjoy choking the life out of you. Goodbye, hero. It has been fun.”

I was spent. I could not fight. I could not even struggle. I was gasping for air. I was losing consciousness. Everything was going dark.

Is this truly how it ends? Is this how I die? Am I finally going to meet you, mother? Are you proud of me? You always said that I was never going to be killed. That I’ll die on my bed surrounded by those whom I loved. But here I was, my life stolen by some scumbag. And I was so close to fulfilling your wishes, too. I have failed you again. I am sorry.

I can see you now, back in our old neighborhood. Your smile blessing my day. Your voice calling me back home by sunset. I could hear the kids playing and giggling. The old ladies yelling. The dogs barking loudly. And… and chasing. And jumping. And driving back thieves. Why can I smell the arid desert’s sand? Why are you telling me to wake up? Wait a moment, I know that dog. A big black and brown dog. Karma?

I opened my eyes. I coughed and wheezed as I tried to catch my breath. Manara was trying to wake me up, asking me if I was alright. Karma was barking relentlessly at Steel, forcing him to pull his battered self back. Behind her were Mrs. Trotsworth and Nadia. I don’t know how she knew or how she got here, but I’m glad she did.

Mother, our long-awaited reunion will have to wait.