Tales Of Somnambula

by Oryxified

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Drama, Original Character, Adventure, Violence, Slice of Life
Length: 22113

A little oryx meets a little pony, her friends, and her town. Chaos ensues.

Harun the oryx is a tourist journeying into Somnambula. He tries to make the most out of his visit, but will soon find out why not too many ponies dare venture the desert.

Cover art by @creciousart on Twitter.

Published 2019-01-14 14:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-02-02 19:29:25 UTC

A Sea of Sand

The sun decided to take a break.

Which wouldn’t have been an issue any other day, but today I needed to find my way through this sizzling sandbox the locals refer to as the San Palomino desert. I needed only to know where South is so I could reach a town called Somnambula, and it would have been easy if Mother Nature didn’t decide playing a cloudy prank on me was amusing. Clouds mean no sun, meaning I can’t tell where East is, which means I’m aimless.

The San Palomino desert, Southwest of Equestria. Or as civilized folk would call it: “Nowhere”. There isn’t much to do here. Yellow sand dunes as far as the eye could see, and if the stories surrounding the place are true then there isn’t much after but mountains overlooking the Southern Lunar ocean. If the merciless heat doesn't do you in, the wildlife will. And should they fail, then thieves, thugs, and bandits will gladly pick up where the others left off. No wonder their Queen doesn’t want anything to do with the place.

I wonder, if I die here, and some pony scientist or another finds me, what would they think? Would they take my bony remains for investigation, or would they leave it there like they do any other victim of the desert? Would they take my death as a warning to all dwellers of this sea of sand, or will they laugh upon seeing what’s left of me; another sucker born and gone? But, would they even be able to find them at all before the searing winds bury them in a sandy grave?

None of that matters now. I am lost, in a place I know nothing about, surrounded by a slow looming death from all angles, no way to retread my steps back to civilization, and all of this because I refused to hire a guide at the station. Not like I would have agreed; he offered to take me to the city for the low-low price of 300 bloody bits, one way. I wasn’t about to be ripped off by him, I thought then. Though the only rip-off that was left for me now, it seems, is vultures ripping the flesh off of my decomposing corpse. Oh look, there they are now. Or are they clouds? Hallucinations already. How nice.

“Hello there!”
I flinched at the surge of friendliness coming from this stranger’s voice in my ears, polite yet direct. I turned around. A young mare in a red dress, wearing a yellow scarf around her neck, and comically round glasses covering half her face. She couldn’t contain her giggling when she witnessed my reaction, and I couldn’t honestly blame her.

“Why so gloomy? Are you lost?” she asked, dawning a sweet smile. There was a noticeable curiosity in her voice, one that would have usually annoyed me, but given the circumstances, I couldn’t afford to pick and choose my help. I looked around at the empty spaces surrounding us, then at the sky still holding on to its cottony coat of clouds like a foal clutching on to a toy. Let’s see: Sarcasm or survival? A witty retort, or a chance at continuing my existence?

Entertaining my pride was not an option.

“Yes, Ma’am, I am indeed lost. I got off at the Las Pegasus train station and was told to go South if I wanted to reach a town called Somnambula. I have been walking for quite a while, but I haven’t been going anywhere.” I wonder if she asked that seriously, or just to spite me. Certainly didn’t seem the type, so why ask a question you most likely already know the answer to?

“That’s because you’ve been going Southeast, silly. Somnambula is Southwest,” she said, pointing to my left at the direction I assumed was what she thought was Southwest. “See that big mountain over there?” still pointing, now at what looked to be a triangular shape in the far distance. “You see it, don’t you? That’s Somnambula’s very own pyramid. It’s visible from every corner of the San Palomino desert, a beacon helping all travelers find their way around, and right under it is the town you seek.”

That was helpful.
“Thank you very much, Ma’am,” I replied, putting my hoof at my heart and bowing slightly. “I will make my way there immediately. I hope we meet again. Farewell.” I turned around towards the supposed pyramid and walked away. Now that she brought it up, how did I not notice it before?

“Wait,” she said, running up to me. “Don’t you think it’d be better if we go there together? It’s always nicer when you have a friend.”

I’m sorry, a what now?
“Lady, I appreciate you looking out for me, I sincerely do, but you have already shown me the way. You have done more than enough.”

“Don’t mention it,” she replied. “Folks here may feel a little uncomfortable around strangers, but we all help any way we can. It’s our way.”

Sure. It’s your way until you meet a tourist, in which case the less of them the better, right?
“Moreover, Miss, I don’t want to become even more of a burden on you than I already have. I can take care of myself.”

She snickered.
“I’m sure you can, I’m just worried the desert might not agree. Lest you forget you were lost not five minutes ago,” she said, her face beaming. “I heard you muttering under your breath for at least half an hour. You’re not from around here, are you?”

So innocent, and deceivingly crafty. My pride was getting stuck in my throat, but I gulped it down.

“I live there, so how about we make a deal: I take you to Somnambula since I was heading there as well, and you tell me more about yourself in return. Deal?”

Ah, the illusion of choice. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one here giving something the other one doesn’t have, but since it’s so trivial it shouldn’t logically matter, right?

“Deal,” if you want to play that way, then I should establish a few rules of my own, “but only until we reach the town. No questions too personal, and no taking the long way around. We’re already running out of daylight as is. Deal?” I asked. “Deal!” she so eagerly replied.

And that’s how I ended up back on the road to my original destination with an adorable nuisance trotting beside me. Light of the heavens and earth, help me, for this is going to be a long trip.

***

“So,” she began firing, “what’s your name?”

“Harun. Harun Abdul-Mujeeb.”

“Ooh. ‘Servant Of The Responding One’. That’s a nice name. Where are you from?”

Hold up, how did you figure that out?
“I’m from Saddle Arabia. Specifically the capital: Al-Rawdah.”

“I’ve never been anywhere outside Equestria, but I’ve heard nice things about the place.” I’m sure you have. Difficulty of travel and lack of communication between the two nations notwithstanding.

“Anyhoo,” I felt her putting a little more effort into the next one. “This one I have been wondering about ever since we met, so excuse me for asking, but what kind of goat are you?” she said, staring at my horns.

“I am an oryx, thank you very much. Goats don’t have long curved horns like mine. Very rarely do they have my white complexion.”

“Oh, sorry.” she said. Clearly distressed. “You’re not upset, are you?”

“No, not at all. You get used to it after a while. I’m only thankful there’s no malice behind your question,” I hope. That was a lie, because I was in fact slightly peeved, but you’re not the first pony to do that, and I doubt you’d be the last. “Your apology shows you care, and that alone makes you better than most creatures I’ve met.”

“Okay. Thanks,” she answered, still veering her head to the side from the guilt. For a second I felt bad for her. A second, because she perked up the moment her mind processed I said “creatures”. Aren’t we supposed to be close to the town by now?

“Creatures? You mean there are other creatures where you come from aside from ponies?” she asked, her enthusiasm flooding back. I was happy she felt better again, but that meant more interrogations.

“Yeah. Believe it or not, there’s more to the world than ponies, flying ponies, and magic ponies,” I said, putting on the happy voice of a depressed, underpaid clown. “There are horses, and camels, and goats, and deer, and gazelles.”

She listened with utmost concentration. She didn’t seem to question what I said, so I kept going.

“I even heard of these mysterious creatures of infinite beauty and endless wisdom,” I didn’t. “Their manes fair as snow, their eyes black as the night sky, their skin soft as silk, and their hooves hard as steel. Their stallions are heroes, and their mares are goddesses. Want to know who they are?”

Her eyes were sparkling and her face was shimmering with utter excitement.

“Yes! Please tell me,” she said, bouncing in anticipation.

“Oryxes. They’re oryxes,” I replied, dropping the act. Her face drooped down in an instant. I admit that, in hindsight, this was not a good idea.

“Well, that wasn’t exciting at all.”
“Ask a silly question; get an appropriate answer.”

Her face spoke of disappointment, but her lips said “Very well.” and very well, I prayed it was. I was getting impatient walking the distance just as the pyramid was becoming clearer. No longer a vaguely triangular shape, but a pony-made mountain visible for all to see. The sun was on the western horizon now, the clouds are finally gone, and the sky painted an amber color with broad strokes of violet not too far behind. We didn’t have much time till nightfall.

“Look, Ma’am, I’m sorry you didn’t like my answer, but that’s the truth. Well, not the mysterious divine bit - that I made up - but the bit about there being more than ponies in the world,” I said. She looked at me with a raised eyebrow and a sulky pout.

“Besides, I fear time is not on our side. Could we please hurry it up to the town before it’s dark?” Please? I’d hate to spend the night with you.

She looked up as if to validate my concerns, then said “Alright, but one last question:” My patience was at its limits. Fortunately, that limit was my smile. “Sure. What is it?”

“Of all the places a tourist from your country would visit in Equestria - of all the forests and waterfalls and snow and mountains – why the San Palomino desert, and why Somnambula in specific? It seems counterproductive, if you ask me, since there’s nothing this town could offer you that you don’t already have back home. And the pyramid? It’s closed off; its entrance unknown.” The sudden shift in tone took me by surprise. A legitimate question, but I was certain there was more than curiosity behind this one.

“So tell me, why did you come here?”

“I’m looking for someone.” No point in lying.

“A relative of yours?”
“A friend of theirs. They left home long ago and I came here looking for them based on information I was given.”

“A Saddle Arabian, or an oryx, like yourself?”

That’s it. I’m officially done with this pony.
“Excuse my attitude, because my patience is running thin, but aren’t you asking perhaps too many questions for your own good?”

She didn’t seem too bothered by this. In fact, she seemed like she was expecting it. As if she was wondering what took me so long.
“But we had a deal, remember?”

Yes, I do. And I’m altering it right now.
“OUR DEAL” I blurted out. “Was that you could run your mouth all you want and I get a guide back to your town. Our deal was that you wouldn’t take the long way around just so you could take more than we bargained for. Our deal was me putting up with you over-friendliness and ongoing inquisition on the hope that you’d uphold your end and take me to your town before dusk so that we’d hopefully avoid becoming some hungry monster’s dinner.”

I pointed at the western horizon, the sun now hiding behind a mountain, and what little light left was fading by the minute.
“Would you look at that? The sun’s almost gone, I’m sitting in the middle of nowhere shouting at pony Red Riding Hood, and will soon be sharing the stomach of some beast with her as well. My only solace is that I will not be devoured alone.”

“Hey, keep it down.” I heard an old passersby say. “SHUT UP!” I shouted back.

I turned to face her and looked her straight in the eyes.
“So now, how about you answer me this one question, dear lady: Where is Somnambula?”

She returned my stare dead-on, raised her hoof, and pointed to her right.
“Over there.”

“What do you mean over there-”
I cut myself off when I saw what was on my left. We weren’t quite there, no, but that city was definitely the one. Huge gates on all four sides of its outer wall, and a golden pyramid keeping watch on it and its inhabitants. The houses, the bazaars, the ponies toiling about. There was no doubt; this was Somnambula.

Pride goeth before destruction, I’m told. However, no one told me I would be destroyed in two words.
“Wow... I- I’m sorry. I-”

She raised her hoof up telling me to stop. Grinning with satisfaction.
“No worries, It’s alright. I was testing your patience on purpose. It’s fun seeing how far you can push ponies before they snap. It’s a good way to learn who they are.”

It is? How often do you do this?

“Of course, there are better ways to do so, but they usually take more time, and they require the subject to be in a relaxing environment. I didn’t have that luxury with you, and I had to make use of what little time we had. I’m sorry for giving you this much trouble.”

Little time? Didn’t she say she lives here?

“I need to go now, I have probably made a few ponies worried about me already,” she said, looking at a group of ponies waving at her. Five mares standing beneath the western gate. She waved back. “Here they are. I must go now. I hope we meet again, Harun of Saddle Arabia. It’s been fun. Goodbye.” She started running in their direction.

“Wait!” she stopped. “I have caused you so much trouble and still didn’t apologize properly. Besides, I don’t even know your name.”

She giggled. That smile lighting up her face once again.
“It’s alright. And the name is Manara. Manara Mubarak.”

She ran to her friends, and soon after they disappeared into the city. I followed them inside, looking for a place to spend the night.

Somnambula's Six

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.

Karmic

"It's all thanks to the princess," said the barista behind the counter, oddly eager to sing the praises of his monarch to me, "that the land is experiencing this period of peace and prosperity. She looks after every pony, she manages our relations with the neighboring nations, and she even raises the sun every day. She is amazing."

"Yeah, I'm sure she is," I said, taking a look back at the empty tables behind us, not paying too much attention as to why the place is empty so early in the morning. The very reason I took such a roundabout way coming here was to prevent going through the capital, Canterlot. The last thing I need is to get caught up with Amira and Hakim there, the Saddle Arabian delegates, and the interactions with unwanted political figures their work entails. That, to me, includes royalty; I don't mess with royalty. Though if they spend all their time here, shouldn’t they be technically called “Ambassadors”? I wonder what those two are doing right now.

He looked at me, rather disappointed, and said: "You don't believe that, do you?"

"For one: No, I don't," I replied. "The sun is a star in the sky, a natural phenomenon. Sunrise happens because of nature, not because of a pony with a really long horn. I don't care how special you think your princess is, nobody can feasibly control the cosmos, so do be kind enough and put a lid on it." I adjusted myself in my stool slightly. "Two: all I asked for was a large Nescafé with extra sugar. I didn't quite ask of you to gush about your beloved local tyrant. Can you give me my order now, please?"

Disgruntled, he turned to a table behind him and took a large paper cup lidded in plastic from it, he stared at the scribble on its side. "Harren? Mr. Ha-run?" he called.

"It's 'Harun'. And you don't have to shout, I'm right here."

"Mr. Harren, are you there?" He raised his voice and started knocking on the table between us. "Mr. Ha-run? One large Nescafé for a Mr. Harren?"

"Hey, what are you yammering on about, I'm right here," I protested. "And stop knocking on the table."

I tried to grab his hooves but mine just went through his. Puzzled, I stared at mine, then at his as they kept knocking methodically on the table. Knock knock, knock knock, then I opened my eyes.

I woke up, still on the Get On inn's bed, in its third room, on the second floor. Took me a moment to realize that the knocking was real and that it was coming from the door's side. The same voice calling my name in the exact same "well-intentioned" way, to put it politely. I opened the door. A tall, lanky pony with fair skin and a brown mane. Yellow shirt, orange scarf on his neck, with a mixture of the same colors for his head covering. A little sheepish smile draped across his face.

"Mr. Harren? I've got your breakfast, sir."

It was too early to feel upset. Didn't seem warranted, in his case. "First of all, thank you. I would've been alright with going down to the dining room, but this is nice as well. Second, it's 'Harun'. 'Ha' like the laugh, and 'run' like 'room' but with an 'N' sound at the end,” I said, taking the tray and putting it on a nearby table.

"You’re welcome, sir,” he replied, "and duly noted. You can put it in the hallway when you’re done. I’ll come to pick it up later.”

“No need, I’ll take it down myself, thank you,” I said, handing him his tip. “Say, is Mrs. Trotsworth downstairs?”

“Yes, she is. The same place she always is.”

“Thanks,” closing the door after he left. Looking back at the food - bread, eggs, and a cup of tea - I only just realized how hungry I was. I really have spent the entirety of yesterday with nothing but a small cup of coffee in my system, haven’t I? An adrenaline rush triggered by your survival instinct going berserk would make you forget things. Not to mention the fact that I went to sleep right away when I got here, I think late afternoon.

I suppose that was one of the few reasons their elder didn’t take too kindly to me. I was not in any shape to actually socialize with anyone, let alone extract information out of them. I suppose they mistook me for someone disreputable, or I think it was my bad luck coming into play. Again. At any rate, I’ll eat, fix myself up, pay for the night, and be out on my way for a second try. Hey, at the very least I know what to expect now, and I’m in much better shape. I can handle myself, hopefully.

***

Putting the empty tray and cup in their place at the dining room downstairs, I asked the mare working there, a purple unicorn wearing a light-pink dress, if I should pay her. She answered that Mrs. Trotsworth handles the finances and that I should go talk to her, so I did.

“Good morning, Mrs. Trotsworth,” I said. She was behind the counter, hooves at the counter, her giant dog growling beside her, both of them glaring at me. Or rather, at something behind me.

“Good morning to you too, dear. But now is not the time for small talk. I believe trouble is afoot," she said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Shush,” she ordered, not taking her eyes off whatever she was staring at. “Don’t look back, don’t say anything, and be prepared to open the door and run when I give you the signal. Understood? Nod for Yes, stay still for No.”

I gulped, then nodded.

I heard the main wooden door creak faintly behind me, opening then closing slowly, then the sound of someone running away.

“Open the door!” she yelled. “Karma, after him! You, follow them. Go!”

I swung the door wide open and her giant dog bolted through. Following them, I could see her closing in quickly on some pony in black. The dog caught up to him and battered him down, then she bit his hoof as he screamed for mercy.

“Enough, Karma,” she said, suddenly, somehow, behind us. She took her dog away, petted her head, then grabbed that pony’s bag.

“Fine. Take it. Take whatever you want. Just keep that demon thing away from me, please,” he pleaded. Holding his bloody hoof, writhing in pain.

“Her name is Karma, and she is your retribution,” she replied. “You should have known better than to try to weasel out of paying your dues on her watch.” She took a little pouch from his bag, pocketed it, and threw the bag on the ground. “Here. I was even generous enough to leave you five whole bits should you want to buy food someplace. Now leave, and never return. And so help me, if I ever catch you around these parts again, I won’t hold Karma back from doing her job. Understood?”

He picked it up and limped his way out of there. Well, that's one way to start your day. I suppose dealing with thieves regularly comes with the job, but this lady could be downright ruthless when she wants to. It’s very strange, seeing two sides of someone’s personality back to back. It makes you wonder what else they might have hiding in there, deep down in the catacombs of their soul.

“And you,” she turned to me, “thank you for your help. Granted, you didn’t do much, but it’s the initiative that matters in your case. Karma would have done it for the both of us regardless,” which I suppose was true. “Isn’t that right, girl?” she was stroking her dog’s head. The dog was panting happily in return, smiling, and wagging her tail.
“No problem, ma’am. Happy to help. Though I’ve got to ask: Where did you get yourself a dog like this?”

“I raised her myself since she was a puppy. We-” she stopped to consider, “I found her lost someplace, starved and sickly, and adopted her. I didn’t expect anything in return - to be frank, I didn’t expect to keep her at all - but I’m glad I did because she is now my little guardian angel. Isn’t that right, my sweet?” The dog barked in return. I’d say size is a subjective matter in this case, but I’m happy for you anyway. “Do you want to pet her?” she asked.

I looked at the dog and she looked back at me. I was never afraid of dogs, per se. Just ones that I assumed could rip my hoof clean off my shoulder. This one needed no such speculation, but I thought that she’d have been properly trained by now, presumably. “Yes, if she doesn’t mind.”

“I’m sure she would have told us already if she did,” she said. “Alright then, approach her slowly, drop down to her height so that you two face each other, and stroke her back gently. Try not to touch the head, okay?” I did as I was told. Her fur was short and smooth, and her body was warm. Like a big pillow. She was panting and wagging her tail still, which I thought was a good sign. Then she jumped on me and started licking my face all over. It tickled a bit. Her owner was laughing in the back.

“Alright, Karma. That is enough for now,” she said, pulling her dog away. “I hope you don’t mind. Karma can be a little eccentric about meeting people. She seems to like you.”

Standing up and wiping my face, and admittedly giggling a bit, I said: “No problem, ma’am.” It actually felt quite nice. “But I thought dogs weren’t supposed to trust strangers.” Wasn’t complaining, just noting.

“Oh, dogs are excellent judges of character. Well, this one, anyway.” She attached a leash to her dog and pointed her back towards the inn. We walked with Karma leading the way. I haven’t noticed it, but the sun was a long way from rising over the horizon. The night was receding, sure, and you could see ahead of you without too much trouble, but it wasn’t quite morning yet. “Besides, pets can read their owner’s feelings and they base their attitude towards others on them, dogs especially. It’s why they say that if you wanted to change a dog’s behavior, you should probably start with your own first.”

“I see.” That was my “safety phrase”. Something I said when I didn’t know how to follow up on something the other person said. In this case, I was paying too much attention to try and form a coherent response. Which, I supposed, was better than trying to spout nonsense about something I knew little about. Wait a minute, if dogs can read their owners’ vibes about others, and Karma apparently likes me, could that mean…

“So, I was told you wanted to see me?”

“Yes. It’s actually about the money. I don’t know how many days I’m going to stay here, so I thought I’d pay each one on its own. I also had someone deliver breakfast to me, so that’s another thing on the bill, I think.”

“I understand. Well, we can take care of that when we get inside. It is rather cold out here.” Which was true. The desert doesn’t believe in middle grounds, you’re either burning at day or freezing at night. Though I think that the brief moment when the sun rises would be a good indicator of what a desert with mild weather would feel like.

"Also, and excuse me for asking this, but I haven't seen anybody at the dining room when I went down. Why did you have your employee deliver breakfast to my room at such an early hour?"

"Oh, that. Don't pay too much attention to it. To put it simply, there's a lot more to managing an inn than shoving tenants into rooms and taking away their money. You seemed like you needed a warm meal in you. And judging by how energetic you seem today, I'd say my judgment was sound."

"I wasn't in the best shape, yesterday. I apologize."

"Sweetie, you were a mess."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"You're welcome."

Suddenly, she stopped.

“You see him, don’t you? By the door, sneaking out.” I didn’t exactly know if she was talking to me or the dog, or perhaps both. Her gaze was fixated on the entrance, and there they were. Taking very light steps after closing the door ever so carefully. Karma was growling. She took the leash off.

“Hey, you!” she shouted, and that pony turned in shock. “Where do you think you’re going? Come back here!” They, of course, didn’t oblige and ran away.

“Why do they always run,” she contemplated, releasing her dog. “Karma, after them. You,” addressing me, “after her.”

“Jeez, two thieves in one day and it’s barely even morning. Ma’am, how do you deal with this every day?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, sweetcheeks,” she smirked, slapping me on the back. Way too far on the back. “Now go!”

I ran after them, wondering how my life has ended this way. Chasing a guard dog that’s running after a thief all for an old mare that might be having a thing for me, my luck working its cynical charm one more time. Karma had already pinned the unfortunate fool down by the time I caught up.

***

Sitting outside, near the tiny wooden bridge overseeing the creek, I found myself rubbing that sore spot on my lower back once again. She really didn’t have to do that. The morning sun has finally risen over the plains, and I was observing its golden light and absorbing its tender warmth, shaking off the chill of the night. Speaking of which, I tapped the water running beside me, fresh, clean, and cold. Then I looked at the oasis from which that water came from to the left. If the water wasn’t being primarily used for drinking and cleaning, then the oasis would have made for a fun swimming spot. Looked deep enough to submerge someone in it, but not quite deep enough to drown them.

The gentle touch of the morning sun caressed my skin, and I felt the hair on my back standing up. I shuddered, faced the sun, closed my eyes, and uttered a prayer.

“Light of the heavens…”

“Hi, Harun.”

Yep, it was her. Little Pony Riding Hood. I dropped the attempt entirely. “End my suffering.”

“Good morning. How are you?”

“Good morning to you too, Ms. Manara,” turning to face her. “I’m doing well. How are-” and the blood froze in my veins as I saw them. Out of the corner of my eye, under a date palm tree by the far side of the oasis. The two crazy pegasus and earth pony just sitting there, and with them, the insufferable unicorn reading a newspaper. Why did she bring them here? Scratch that, I’m not about to find out.

“Well, that was a good talk, but I just remembered something urgent I need to do, so later,” I said, as I tried to flee the scene. She quickly grabbed my hoof, holding me in place.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, but Sarkash and Samar are here to apologize, I promise,” she said. “I even brought Nadia along to make sure things won’t get as messy as they did before.”

“You brought the pony who probably hates me the most out of all of them as a neutral party?” That wasn’t even fair.

“She doesn’t hate you,” she reassured me. Tried to, at least. “She’s just very honest about what she thinks of ponies, very blunt. She’s not too bad once you get to know her.” Oh, I’m sure she isn’t. That’s what they all say.

“Ms. Manara, I’m sorry, but I can’t. I don’t trust them not to do something reckless, and as you might already know, seeing is believing.” I pushed her hoof away lightly. “Second, I don’t have anything against any of the ponies of this town, or anybody, really. I just want to find out about this ‘Dalya’ and be on my way. I have a feeling someone spread a rumor about me to the townsfolk or that there’s more to this story than I would have been lead to believe. Either way, I don’t want to deal with them. Talking to Mr. Cactus directly would be a much better use of my time.” I hate to say it, but he seemed more reasonable than any of the other ponies I’ve seen or met thus far. Maybe on par with Mrs, Trotsworth, but she’s a different beast altogether.

“Good, then we can make another deal,” oh, goody. I can’t wait. “You’ll come with me for now, and Nadia and I will talk to Cactus on your behalf. Make things much easier for you. He has forbidden you from coming back, remember?”

“Yes, I do, indeed and in fact, remember that little tidbit,” I replied. I don’t know how she manages to force my hooves every single time we so much as speak to each other, but she does. On reflection, they were all situations I got myself into, but the fact she could rope me into doing whatever she wanted didn’t quite sit well with me. I felt it again, something burning up inside my chest and threatening to burst through if I don’t give it passage, pride, but I forced it down.

“I…” forcing a sigh out. “I don’t know.”

“Come on,” she insisted. “For me?”

I’m going to regret thinking that your innocent-looking smile and your huge puppy eyes behind your comical round glasses were cute.

“Alright, I give up. I’ll take you up on your offer. But I’m not taking any chances. I will defend myself if the need arises, and I will do whatever I deem acceptable if I, at any point, feel I was being short-changed. Deal?”

“Deal!” And just like that, I was walking with this adorable nuisance, again, towards my potential, loud, multi-colored doom. As we were heading there, I remembered something the lady of the inn told me. She asked me what I was doing here, and I told her I was looking for a friend of my family, intentionally not mentioning any names. She told me that she knew what happened beforehand and that I shouldn’t worry. She also told me that that name has an unpleasant history with the townsfolk and that I would have been better off heading here first if I wanted information.

“Hindsight is a funny thing, ma’am,” was my answer.

“That is correct. And it only grows funnier with age, let me tell you,” She added. “At any rate, you don’t need to worry about that old duffer, Cactus,” she told me. “He feigns toughness because his status demands it, but he’s really just like the rest of them, looking for peace of mind.”

“I see.”

She then took another look at me. “How did he address you, yesterday?” She asked.

“Huh? He called me ‘son’ if I remember correctly.”

“Sounds about right,” she said. “You do not need to worry. Just get up to him, apologize for whatever he said you did wrong, and explain yourself. I’m sure he’ll cooperate. If all else fails, tell him I sent you. Better yet, start with that.”

“Can’t I just take Karma with me? She sounds like a great negotiator.”

She laughed. “No, you can not.”

“Will he really listen?”

“I promise you. He will.”

And here I was, taking her at her word.

The three of them were waiting for us by the water. I stood a few meters away facing them, Manara sat to the side between us, and all was good save for the deafening awkward silence that befell the place, punctuated by the random chirping of a few birds who quickly silenced themselves as well. As if realizing that now is not the time.

“Well now,” Manara began, realizing the conversation had to start sometime this century, “I think we all came here today because we all have something we want to say to each other. Isn’t that right, girls?”

The earth pony and the pegasus tried to open their mouths in unison to speak, but that was quickly stopped by the unicorn folding her paper midair and smacking both of them on the head.

“Ouch,” they shouted. Grabbing their heads. “What was that for?”

“Don’t you two dare waste my time,” she scolded. “It’s bad enough I had to come along, but to think that I would listen to you two all the way over here knowing full well you were just readying some excuse or another, who were you trying to trick again? You two aren’t exactly bright. I know that because I have been stuck with you both here on this oversized, barren cat litter box since I was born. Now apologize properly. No clowning around.”

“Okay, okay. Sheesh,” said the pegasus. “Guess I gotta get this over with. Look, I’m sorry. I got a little overboard,” and the unicorn held the paper over her head again. “Okay! Very overboard. I just heard about what happened between you and Manara and I was upset. I didn’t mean for things to get that Out of hand. Guess I wasn't thinking right. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too,” said the earth pony. “Even if I didn’t actually do anything, the whole ‘scaring you to learn a lesson’ thing was my idea. I take my share of the blame. I’m sorry.”

“Wow, would you look at that,” intervened the unicorn. “It says the princess of friendship went with her friends to a psycho village and freed its villagers, though their leader got away.” I’m sorry, princess of what now? “Woah. Mark stealing. Mind-washing. Freaky stuff.”

“Nadia, do you mind?” Manara said.

“Not at all. Please, ignore me. Keep making out or whatever it is you’re doing.”

Manara rolled her eyes. “Anyway, all that’s left is Harun. Do you have anything to say?”

I looked at her, took a look at them, and then stole a look at the oasis. Let your pride go. Forgive, Harun. Like water under the bridge.

Water under the bridge. Fresh, clean, and cold.

“I forgive you.”

“What?” was a sentiment shared by the three of them. Even that unicorn put her paper for a second and raised an eyebrow before going right back to it.

“Yeah, I forgive you both. Misunderstandings happen. I’m so thankful we all could find an accord, and only hoping you would be able to forgive me as well. For everything.”

“Well, that was easy,” Said Manara. “Shake hooves, make it official?”

“They say this ‘Sun-tight Simmer’ has been on the run ever since,” the unicorn cut in once again. “You know, if the princess was serious about this whole thing she would have sent search parties to find this criminal by now. At least made posters and assigned rewards for anyone with information on her whereabouts or something.”

“First off, that’s not how that name is pronounced. Like, at all. Second, why do you care, Nadia?”

“I’m just saying. For all her smarts and experience dealing with danger, she really shows a surprising, and selective, lack of professionalism.”

“Just keep to yourself until we’re done, please?”

“Sure.”

With that distraction behind, the four of us stood up and shook hooves, smiling. First with the pegasus, then with the earth pony, then back to the pegasus, then around to the earth pony. I made sure to keep it up until it felt awfully uncomfortable.

Water under the bridge. Where do you think that water, fresh, clean, and cold, comes from? Correct.

I punched the pegasus on her stomach. “One for the money,” I grabbed her by the neck and threw her into the water.

“Harun!”

“Two for the show,” as I grabbed the earth pony and flung her into the oasis as well. She landed over the pegasus, who was trying to swim her way out, submerging her again.

“Three to get ready,” turning to the unicorn, who was expecting it at this point. “But three says no,” she finished. “Though I’ve got to say, I didn’t think you’d have it in you to pull something like this. Call me surprised, but not quite impressed.”

It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I finally enacted my revenge. Seeing them flop around in the water, desperately trying to splash their way out. They did eventually reach the shore. They were drenched, clothes and all. They were shivering. Oh, that felt good.

“Harun, what is the meaning of this?” Manara demanded.

“That was my retribution,” I replied. “You see, we both hold very differing views on what forgiveness should look like. You believe in ‘forgive and forget’, I believe in atonement and Justice. And if the latter failed me, vengeance. Needless to say, I’ve just got mine.”

“By giving them a bath?” asked the unicorn. “Awfully melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“I want you two to answer me this: What happens when someone splashes water on themselves but does not immediately dry up afterward?”

The pegasus and her earth pony friend sneezed and sniffed. They both glared at me.

“Exactly. A week of this on average is enough reflection time for anyone, no matter how thick-headed they may be. If anything, this way I'll be making sure there are no active distractions present while I speak to Cactus later today.”

The unicorn raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I did promise,” said Manara, “but it’s nearing noon. Do you want to head with us now or are you going to wait until the afternoon?”

“Afternoon. The sun will be calmer by then.”

“Look, not to ruin your plans or anything,” said the unicorn, “but I’m very sure Cactus doesn’t want to see you again. How exactly do you plan to change his mind?”

“I’ll talk to him, politely, respectfully, let him know what I’ve been through, and what this means to me. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Yeah, right,” she cringed. “And here I thought you actually had a plan. It’s gonna be amusing to watch, if anything, but don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

“Nadia, please.”

“Don’t worry about it, I won’t.” I mean, I never have thus far. “Say, Ms. Manara, I've been meaning to ask you this but I’ve never had a chance: what do you stand to gain from helping me so adamantly?”

She took a moment to consider. “I was raised to help anyone I could. The world is a harsh place, but we can make it better if we believed in our ability to do so, and worked by that belief. That is a lesson I live by.”

I wasn’t ready for this answer.

“There’s also the fact that the main library has books in Saddle Arabian language that I can’t read and which I’m very curious about. You can help me translate them, can’t you?”

This, conversely, was more what I expected.

“It’s called Arabic. And yes, I’d be happy to help.”

“Great, thank you very much.”

“Hey, Manara. We should be heading back now before noon sets in. Unless you want to go back with a crippling fever, that is,” said the unicorn. “Not to mention we need to get these two home.”

“Right. Okay then, we’ll be going now. We’ll see you later at the Northern gate. Don’t be late. Goodbye.”

“Yeah, later.”

I watched them drag the two sickly ponies out of there and back to the town, slowly walking their way home until they were but dots in the distance. I wasn’t quite sure what to feel about what I've just done. The initial rush of enjoyment procured by my need to take revenge felt good. But now, seeing them shiver and cough, I didn’t know if it was truly worth it. They did come all the way down here to apologize, after all.

“Hey, you, no playing in the water,” said the pony in the pink dress, through the window.

“Sorry,” I answered.

Head of the Serpents

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.

Hope

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.