Our Creation Myth

“I didn’t know monsters were beholden to fairness.”

The sphinx dragged her rough tongue across her paw. “Have I not upheld my promise? Your kingdom has remained untouched for ten years.”

“Perhaps my kingdom, but not my mind—my dreams.” Hisan’s hooves struck the cave floor. “Not when you’ve haunted me all this time.”

Her pupils narrowed to slits. “Is that the truth of why you continue to return here?”

Hisan exhaled through his nostrils. “You've made me think of the future, how Somnambula will be remembered—now that she's gone. Indeed, she became a hero that day, but what am I? A great pharaoh? Or the prince who needed to be rescued from a monster? Her tale was already being told long before she left this world and I know how my role is played.” His head hung. “I don't want to die a victim.”

The sphinx, in silence, watched him wage his internal war.

“It frightens me less, when I'm able to speak to you,” Hisan said. “It takes away your power.”

A slow, constrained smile crept upon her mouth. “A sphinx's magic is bound to words. It's not fairness I'm beholden to, but language. I'm only a monster as long as you call me one.”

And to his shock, the sphinx said, “You don’t want to die a victim. Who would want to die a monster?”