Knowledge is involvement, involvement is action, actions have consequences, and I’m facing mine right now.

Forcing my eyes open, I found myself on my back on a bed, inside a house? The last thing I remember was the sand on my face when I passed out. I don’t recall a thing afterward. Where am I?

Sitting up and clutching my aching head, I looked around. It was nighttime. A big room, a few more beds, and a bedside table on which sat all my other things. I rubbed my eyes, grabbed my glasses, wore my necklace, and looked around again. Manara was there, and with her was the blonde green unicorn, both giving me their backs. Henna, was her name? They were deep in conversation, though I couldn’t pick up on what they were talking about. Last time I tried initiating conversation with her around it didn’t exactly go well, but I was hopeful this time would be better.

“Hello,” I said. Still a bit fuzzy in the head from the hours-long involuntary nap I was forced to take. The second I opened my mouth the unicorn shrieked and jumped onto Manara’s head, her teeth chattering and her body shivering. Manara tried and failed to pull her away a couple of times, sighed, turned around, and smiled my way. “Hi. Good evening, Harun. How do you feel?”

What a sight to wake up to. I must admit I was slightly amused. “I have been better, though I should be asking you both the same thing. Is she okay? Do you need help with, you know,” and I vaguely gestured at my head.

“No, it’s alright. She’ll calm down in a few,” she said, as she attempted to prise the startled pony off of her again. “Get. Off. Me. You. Scaredy. Cat. You!” With each word, she pulled harder and harder until she finally pried the nervous unicorn off of her head, which sent both of them rolling in opposite directions and into the walls. That got a chuckle out of me.

Well, it’s high time I left this bed and offered to help. “Y- y- y- you shouldn’t d- do that,” said the green unicorn, jumping up and pushing me back. “Y- y- y- your body is still w- w- weak, you have no e- energy, you’re b- back is bruised all over, not to mention the weird h- h- hoof mark on your l- l- lower right back.” Yeah, I remember that last one. A bit too clearly for comfort. So I’m guessing that’s half the reason she’s so socially awkward. The poor thing stutters every other word. But was that stuttering or was she just nervous? And why do I suddenly care?

“Yeah, you should probably listen to Hanan,” Manara added. So that was her name. “Remember when you were thrown onto Cactus’ kart? That can’t be good for your back. Please stay still until we can confirm you’re alright.”

I grimaced upon hearing that name. Yeah, Cactus. I can’t expect him to be happy after all that happened. Should probably anticipate him demanding I pay for whatever he lost, maybe also a scolding. And Steel. Now he has me in his sights. I did what I thought was right at that moment, but it cost me. Now I can’t leave the desert or get help. I’m effectively a Somnambulan now.

“I see,” was all I could muster an answer before laying right back on the bed. Not like I had a choice until I got better. That, I felt, was a consistent theme throughout my life ever since you left, dear mother. I do all of this for you, and yet I am met with failure at every corner. And the one decision I made on my own was under your guidance, and it landed me here. Was that truly my decision, or was it yours? Was I ever truly in control?

“L- l- look,” this little chain of thoughts was broken by the unicorn’s, Hanan’s, interruption. “Just s- stay in bed and I’ll come ch- ch- check up on you tomorrow m- m- morning. My r- room is nearby. If you n- need anything just c- call. Good night.” Then she left.

“Don’t worry about her,” said Manara, as if she was anticipating a question. “She may seem a bit awkward, but she’s dependable where it counts. That is, patching up folks right back up. She runs Somnambula’s only clinic and pharmacy, if you can even call it that. An herbal remedies store is more like it, but she does her best.”

“So I understand.” I don't know what I'm supposed to do with this information, but I'll find a use for it later. “What time is it?”

“A few hours after sunset. I was going to go home in a bit but Hanan insisted I spend the night at her place, so here I am.”

“Why were you waiting for me, exactly?”

“A few things. One: I led you into town, so as far as Cactus is concerned you are my problem. He wasn’t happy last I saw him. Just a heads up.”

Yeah, I figured. “Thanks.”

“And two: because Mrs. Trotsworth asked me to give you that,” and she pointed at the bedside table to my right. “It’s inside your bag.”

Sitting right back up, I took a look at what was inside the thing. Aside from my money, a couple of books, a map, and a few letters from the embassy I received upon arrival (courtesy of Amira and Hakim) there wasn’t exactly anything out of the ordinary. I feel bad for declining their invitation, in hindsight. And not just because I’m stuck here, either.

Nothing I’m unfamiliar with, except one dark blue, sweetly-scented envelope. Signed, quite extravagantly if I might add, almost too extravagantly to read if I were to add further, by a one Mrs. Ingrid Josephine Trotsworth, and stamped by a dog’s paw. Karma. Bless that giant doofus of a dog. Inside it was a letter that smelled like it was drenched in perfume, and which I struggled to read for the same aforementioned reason, but it went something like this.

Dear Mr. Harun,

I never entertained honorifics. For others, fine. Not for myself.

I was worried when you left in the afternoon, and worried even more so when you seemed to have forgotten to take your things with you, so I sent Anwar in your trail. What news he came back to me with, that the Head of the Serpents himself was on his way to the town, smelled of trouble. And it was then that I decided to take matters into my own hooves. Sadly, I was but too late. He has already managed to hurt you, and that was his mistake. Things be as they may, I have a strict agreement with him to not harm my customers. Only I could do that.

That sounded strangely reassuring.

At any rate, I can not help you with your new predicament, for only you sought to throw yourself down that particular hole, and only you could pull yourself out of it. Though if you would like to be given a few pointers, then Narjis, Anwar, Karma, the Get On Inn, and most importantly of all, I, are all too ready to help. Feel free to drop by for a visit anytime your heart wishes so.

You will find the rest of your money as well as any items you left in your room in your bag, as well as this letter, ever so obviously. Don’t push yourself too hard through your recovery. Listen to Ms. Hanan. She knows what she is doing, despite looking the opposite.

May that light you believe in shine upon you, and may it illuminate your path through the dark night.

Yours sincerely,

Ingrid Josephine Trotsworth.

P.s: Karma sends her regards.

I put the letter in its envelope and back into the bag. The situation was bad, but I was relieved to know I had a friend. Or if not a friend, an ally.

“You seem happy.” I heard Manara say. Speaking of friends. “What did it say?”

“Nothing in particular,” I lied. “Anything else?”

“Well…” I sensed hesitation. Then she went to another bed and grabbed something that looked like a long black stick. As she came closer though, I found out exactly what it was.

My horn. My broken horn.

“I’m sorry it had to happen. I thought you’d like to keep it, so I held on to it,” she said as she gave it to me. I held it in my hooves. Ringed, black, almost a meter in length from base to shrinking tip. Mother taught me that an oryx’s pride is in his horns. It’s with them that he defends himself and his loved ones, and with them does he fight. And there it was, one was with me, and another a trophy stashed in whatever rat hole that snake must’ve crawled into. Without them I was naked. Defenseless. Useless. Less than the dirt on which I stepped. I felt my head spinning and my heart thumping in my chest. If mother were to see me, her own son, disgraced like this, I would have died from embarrassment. The bad news just kept piling up.

I knew she knew I wasn’t, but Manara asked anyway. “Are you alright?” Trying her best to distract me from this.

“No.” Gently putting it over the bag on the table next to where I slept. “No. No, I am not.” Gritting my teeth, forcing every word out. “Please, leave me alone. I wish to sleep now.”

I laid my head on the pillow and closed my eyes, hoping that, come morning, I’d wake up from whatever nightmare this was. I heard a chair moving closer. A deep breath. A gulp. Then she opened her mouth again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I do not.” What part of ‘leave me alone’ was too hard to get?

“Can I ask you something?”

“No.” At this point, there are a lot of things I’m solemnly regretting. Meeting you is probably one of them. I’m not playing any more of your games.

Well, she did anyway. “Aren’t you going to ask me about what happened to my mother, or Mr. Cactus’ son, or anything that happened at all? Aren’t you curious?”

Why would I? You’ll find yet another way to yank me around and irritate me. You could have saved me a lot of trouble have you opened your mouth, but you chose not to.

“Aren’t you going to tell me what that cool thing you did back there was? You threw a couple of Thees and Thous before vanishing into thin air, then you started beating up Steel completely invisible until he fell on his knees. Then, when the storm subsided and we got a good look at you again we saw you driving those horns of your deep into his side before hurling him into the air and over your back. That was so cool! I didn’t know you were so strong.”

Ah yes. The ‘cool’ maneuver that landed me here in a clinic’s bed. Doesn’t matter what you do as long as you lose. I lost. That’s the end of that.

“Well… Aren’t you going to tell me what that last word you said before you disappeared meant? Something like ‘sareeb’ or ‘sar-rahb’ or something?”

Light of the seven heavens, the earth, and everything in between. Light of the living, dead, and everything in between. O’ sacred light of infinite compassion and endless mercy, I beg of thee: grant me thy patience. For, if given, I could not be trusted not to abuse strength.

“Holy…” Sitting right up on my bed again so I can deal with this transgression against the Arabic language myself. “It’s pronounced ‘سراب’! Sarab! As in, ‘sah-raab’. It’s two syllables, and not at all hard to say. Means mirage, in case you’re wondering about that, too. Jeez, desert or not, you’re still very much an Equestrian, aren’t you?”

She swiftly clapped her hooves and said: “Thank you!” And it was then that her end-goal clicked. On one angle I felt like I was toyed with, on the other I was glad she actually did it. Moping wasn’t going to get me anywhere.

One deep sigh later. “Alright, you win.” As you always do. “What do you want?”

“That mirage thing, for starters. Tell me all about it.”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“I like long stories.”

“Well then, you know how I told you traveling between Saddle Arabia and Equestria is difficult, right?” She nodded. “That’s just the distance I was talking about, let alone the many dangers along the way. We don’t have as many fast traveling options as you do. Trains are very neat, by the way.”

“They are?”

“Yeah. When we finally get out of this mess somehow I’d like to take you to visit Las Pegasus and take a look at one of them. Basic, functional engineering genius at its finest.” Then, realizing how I derailed myself, no pun intended, I hope, I went right back to it again. “So, yeah. I basically had to cross the distance from Saddle Arabia going west in a caravan with many other creatures. Said caravan was led by true nomadic desert dwellers. Camels. Silent folk, but hardy and dependable and know the desert as they know themselves and each other. The caravan was headed to a port city situated at an enormous river that crossed multiple neighboring nations. I don’t recall its name, I’m sorry, but you should have taken a look at it yourself. Ships sail on it as if it was a sea on its own. It is massive! And if you had a map of Equestria you’d see that between the land of dragons and the land of Griffins is a river that falls into the sea. That’s the one.”

“Fascinating.”

“Indeed. So anyway, crossing the desert is not without dangers. If rationing food and water and managing to withstand the scorching heat isn’t of any concern to you, then there are many things that’d be all too happy to take their place. Wolves, jackals, foxes, wild dogs, hyenas, caracals, and Light forbid leopards or the rare lion, not to mention all manner of reptiles and snakes and deadly arachnids and insects, are all things to be watched out for and avoided at all costs. But at the very least, those are animals and they act on instincts, so their actions are justified. It's those who choose to harm you are the ones who can inflict the most damage.”

"Bandits?"

"Yes. Lawless heathen who abandoned civilization and the honest life in pursuit of their warped sense of 'freedom'. So long as they got to do and attain whatever they wanted, no matter who it hurt, then they'll do anything. That 'anything' in our case was catching us by surprise when we were setting up a place to stay the night and taking an old stallion hostage in order to make us do whatever they wanted. It was late afternoon. I never even knew what had happened until they got him. They held him at the tip of their blades, threatening us that the price of resistance was his life."

"That's terrible."

"Like you wouldn't believe. I'll never forget the look in his eyes. He was mortified. He saw his whole life flashing before him with one and death facing him with the other. Fear crippled him completely. I could still hear his desperate cries. ‘Help me! Please help me!’. They rang through my ears, boiling my blood, and sending me off the edge. With every second that passed, it got worse and worse. I wanted, not just to save him, not just to stop them, but to end them. That was the first time in my adult life that I’ve seen true injustice. Naked, bare, utterly hideous, and I hated it with every fiber of my being.”

“For the first time in my life, I felt rage. Rage at the cruelty of fate, rage at the ones who’d make it worse, and rage at my seeming inability to do anything about it.”

“Anger. Rage. Fury. Indignation. They must face justice somehow. And if it meant trampling over my dead body, then so be it.”

“I clenched my teeth and heaved one breath after the other. Clueless of what I must do but certain that I must do something. At that instant a sandstorm hit, and I felt something take over me. Something else took control. Never forcing me, but rather guiding me. Telling me what to say and do. It was then that that same presence whispered softly into my ear these words: ‘Light of the heavens, I call upon thee.’ ”

“Light? The same Light mother used to tell me about?”

‘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.’

“Who was that voice calling to? Who were these words directed at?”

‘May the sand be my veil and the gales be my cloak. سراب!’

“As soon as I uttered that last word, I heard everyone shout in amazement that I had disappeared when I was standing right next to them. I haven’t gone anywhere, but they were screaming and wailing about how I have vanished like sand into the wind. The bandits were not happy. They thought we were pulling a trick on them. They were willing to kill the poor stallion. I had to move fast.”

“I ran up to them, pulled the blade out the hooves of one of them, and planted it into his heart. Before the others could react I have had done the same to them. That storm lasted much longer than this one, so I had ample time to do what I had to do. When it left us, I was surrounded with bodies, the old one limped weakly back to his group, and I passed out from exhaustion. I was told I was out for almost half a day. Our guides, the camels, were not happy with my little stunt, but they were thankful and rewarded me regardless. All that was nearly two months ago. And I have not heard that voice since.”

Manara took a moment. “And what about today?”

“That was all me. I felt the same thing I did back then, though not as intensely. I knew something had to be done, so I did what I could.”

“Do you think it was worth it?”

“Yes.” That answer slipped my mouth before I had a chance to think.

“Do you feel better after talking about it?”

“Not really, no. I don’t feel much different.”

“I understand,” she said. I don’t know if she truly did, but I was willing to believe her.

“Can I ask you something? I need you to be truthful with me.”

“I always have been ever since we met.”

“Why do you help me?”

“I answered that before.”

“If your mother was Dalya, then why did you not tell me?”

“You never seemed suspicious, but I needed to check first. I couldn’t risk you being one of Steel’s lackeys, or a pawn of any other psycho this desert is in no shortage of.”

“If you could not trust me, then why have you kept helping me?”

“I don’t know. I guess you could say I related, somewhat. If I could help you give your deceased mother peace, then I was going to do it.”

“There’s more to it than that.”

“I, selfishly, hoped that by helping you I’d be able to learn more about mother’s life before she came here. She never told me anything. Said it was better to let the past be.”

“Why’d you think that’s selfish?”

“I was helping you with an ulterior motive in mind. I was not sincere. I… I am sorry.”

“Don’t be. There’s nothing wrong with what you did. None that I could find, anyway.”

She seemed troubled. As if she was about to break down into tears. I couldn’t bear to see her like that. “Ms. Hanan!” I shouted. She quickly came in. “Please, take her in and let her get some sleep. It was a rough day as is, for everyone.” She nodded, then took Manara inside.

“Good night.”

***

The sun, once again, shone its face, ever so slowly, above the town and its pyramid. Its gentle, golden rays of soothing sunshine cleansing the plains of the misery of the cold, dark night, and giving way to life to start. I was taught that sleep is but a minor case of death, and that a life not used to its last possible moment each day every day was no different from it.

I was there, soaking up its warmth and feeling it coaxing me delicately to leave the bed and go about my merry way. And I was planning to. Ms. Hanan’s diagnosis revealed no broken bones or damaged organs, but a good number of painful bruises on my back. She gave me some medicine and told me to take it easy for a few days until the pain was gone completely. Which, of course, meant that she was going to be upset when I eventually discard her sound advice.

Let me see now: I am imprisoned in this desert, I have a tyrannical murderous maniac on my tail, nobody in this town likes me or trusts me, the head of it especially, and my friends are few and far between.

Well, if I were the sarcastic type then I’d say that was very interesting. I was, and so I’ll say just that. But I can’t lose hope just yet.

Hope. It is what keeps us believing in a tomorrow when our today seems bleak and gloomy. It is what makes us try harder when all seems lost. It is what makes us believe and work towards something even if that something was beyond our reach at the moment.

Hope is what keeps us fighting. Hope is the promise that things will, somehow and someway, get better. Hope, sometimes, is all we have. It is all I have.

Life is unbearable with it, and it would be unbearable without it.

أُعلِّلُ النفس بالآمالِ أرقُبُها *** ما أضيقَ العيشَ لولا فسحةُ الأمَلِ

And it is this hope, dear mother, that keeps me going right back at it again whenever I am down. I promised you, and I intend to keep that promise no matter what it takes.

Am I dumb for thinking things could get better? Perhaps. But I never entertained despair. Cynicism is the way of the defeated, wrapped up in smart-sounding words in order to lick, like an animal, whatever validity it can off the floor. I refuse to be like that. I refuse to give up.

Mother. Everything I do, I do for you.

Mother, I love you. Mother, believe in me.

“Harun.” a familiar voice was heard.

“Ms. Manara? What brings you here at such an early hour?”

“I wanted to check up on you, and take the opportunity to show you around town. How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thanks for asking. How about you?”

“Same.” I was glad to hear that. There was something unpleasantly depressing about seeing a cheerful person so down. I’m glad she got over it. “So, you got something to eat? Ready to go?”

“Sure. Let's do this!”

And that is how my new life as a Somnambulan started. Can’t help the feeling I have forgotten something, though, and it was at that very moment that I felt something drag me by the neck and pull me back. “W- w- why did you think you were going to l- l- leave without eating anything?” Sure enough, it was Hanan. She was upset. “Sorry." Manara giggled as she followed us inside.

***

In the dark of the night in an unannounced room at the back of the Get On Inn, Mrs. Trotsworth sat down with her beloved dog by her side. She was inspecting an empty tea cup.

“Well, well, well then, little Mr. Harun of Saddle Arabia. Let us see what fate has in store for you.”

This was a hobby of hers seldom known about.

Author's Note

I realized after the fact that most people here don't speak Arabic, and that they'll most probably use Google Translate to find out what that little bit of Arabic poetry at the end meant. I checked for myself, and GT gives a mangled translation that practically says the opposite of what the verse says, so I felt an after-the-fact author's note is due to address that.

This verse is part of a much larger, very profound poem called "Lamiyat al-Ajam" (L-Poem of the non-Arabs) by someone called "Abu Esmail Togharayi". A crude, on-the-spot translation of the verse would say "I keep my heart going by the promise of eventual better times. For life would be unbearable without hope".

The lesson to be learned here is that Google Translate can't be trusted to translate complex pieces of literature, and that I should be more thoughtful about that kind of thing going forward.

Sorry for the inconvenience.