L.T. File: 065: Lůśhe̊dreŕùl -Sleepmother

I. TRANQUIL SHADOWS FIELD REPORT

Subject: Encounter with the Sleepmother
Author: Operative Veylan- MossFrog of the Tranquil Shadows
Date: 42

Field Report: Day 12 Without Sleep

I write this from the Shadows' infirmary, finally rested. Two days ago, I was not so fortunate. My orders had me stationed in the lower galleries of Lèùl Shlùr̈ùl, hunting a parasitic dream-leech that had been slipping through communal sleep-chambers. Ironically, the very work kept me from sleep; every time I tried to meditate, my mind replayed its feeding proboscis rhythmically clicking against ceramic. By my seventh sleepless day, I had a tremor. By my eighth, visual distortions. By my ninth, my fellow operatives forced me off duty.

On the tenth, she appeared. The Sleepmother did not arrive with fanfare. I noticed her in the reflection of the water basin by my cot, standing behind me as though she had been there a long time. She wore simple desert-silk nightclothes, patterned with the tan-and-blue braids currently popular among Anadi women. Her face was beautiful—but unbearably tired. The dark circles under her eyes pulsed faintly like bruised moons.

She smiled. It was the kind of smile one gives a child who is trying not to cry. “Sweet one,” she whispered, “I can take the weight from you. One night. Just one. And a wish. Your wish. You have earned it.” Her hand reached toward my face. I felt the air cool around her fingers. She braided my hair briefly while she awaited my response. I think only my extensive mental training allowed me to make the decision I did through the exhaustion.

I declined.

I do not clearly remember what I said—only that my voice cracked, and that I stated the Tranquil Shadows’ oath forbidding bargains with non-approved entities. She did not grow angry. She only looked disappointed, a soft, human disappointment that struck deeper than rage ever could. “Then rest when you can,” she murmured. “I will not return unless you call for me in your heart. Many do.” She brushed her hand against my cheek.

She kissed her fingertips and placed them over my brow without touching me. Something warm and almost motherly pressed at the edges of consciousness—but held back, as though obeying my refusal. Then she walked away. Not vanished—walked—into the shadow behind the infirmary curtain and was gone. I slept forty hours straight two days later, naturally, strangely dreamless, but safely. I remember little of those following two days, and would have written off my encounterwith the Sleepmother as a fever dream were it not for my braided hair. I pray I do not see her again. And, quietly: I pray that if I do, I still have the strength to refuse once again.

— Operative ---

II. TRANQUIL SHADOWS POST-MORTEM INTERVIEW

Subject: Ghost of Daylilly
Status: Peaceful, cooperative
Date of Death: 87
Interview Conducted: 88
Interviewer: Mistletoe, Psychosocial Division

Transcript (Excerpt)

Mistletoe:

Daylilly, thank you for meeting with me. I know discussing the end of your life may be difficult. Though, you seem to be acclimating to post-life fairly well.

Daylilly:

Difficult? No. Strange, perhaps. But I am calmer now than I ever was when I was alive those last months. I couldn't sleep consistently for months, but usually I could get some sleep every five or six days whether hrough medicine or magic. Finally, the exhaustion came to be too much, and one time, despite medication and magic, I had not been able to sleep for ten days. That's when she appeared to me.

Mistletoe:

You accepted her offer on your tenth day?

Daylilly:

Yes. I was frightened, shaking, hearing voices that were not there. When she appeared, she looked… kind. Like one of our elders who used to sing for the children. And gods, I was so tired. I would have traded anything for one moment of rest.

Mistletoe:

Did she disguise her nature?

Daylilly:

No. She told me plainly what she was. “A keeper of rest,” she called herself. “A caretaker of those who fall through the cracks of their own sleeplessness.” There was no threat—only inevitability. She kissed my forehead. I slept. It was the only peaceful night in those final months.

Mistletoe:

Did you regret it afterward?

Daylilly:

Regret? Yes and no. I never dreamed again. My life faded slowly, like ink left in the sun. But… I was no longer afraid. The exhaustion never hurt after that. It simply continued until I did not.

Mistletoe:

And at your death?

Daylilly:

She lay beside me. Held my hand. No one else saw her, but I felt her warmth. She said to me , “You chose peace when your mind was breaking. Let me take you the rest of the way.” Then she kissed my brow again. The moment was… peaceful. Softer than sleep, softer than breath.

Mistletoe:

Do you believe she is malicious?

Daylilly:

She is hungry. But she is not cruel. She takes what is offered, and gives what comfort she can. Aulvi fear her because she touches our dreams, and unlike humans we are without a natural end—but her touch was gentler than many things I endured in life.

Mistletoe:

Would you warn others?

Daylilly:

Yes. I would tell them to never choose her if you still have hope. But if you are utterly alone in the dark… hers is not the worst hand to take.

Therapist's note: This interview was similar to reports of the Sleepmother's goals and intentions. That she is not malicious does not make her a danger of sorts. Were she malicious, I would recommend her as a sphere 5 threat, since she is not, I recommend her as a sphere three, with the signifier of intended benevolence. This writer strongly suggests that proper strategies for informing patients with sleep issues be followed so that patients might make as informed a decision as is possible.- Mistletoe

III. CULTURAL EXCERPTS & SCHOLAR’S NOTES

Compiled by Archivist Dlethraun Vey, Tranquil Shadows Oral Wing

A. Archduchy of Aildëhn (Magocracy)

Excerpt from “The Sleepless Orchard,” circa 620 PRE

The apricot trees bore no fruit that summer, for the Archmage’s daughter had not slept in ten nights. Every leaf drooped in sympathy. The servants whispered that a woman wandered the orchard at dusk, tucking the branches as though putting children to bed.

On the tenth night, the Archmage found her daughter asleep beneath the apricot boughs, head resting in the lap of a stranger. The woman wore a gown the color of withered petals, and her dark-ringed eyes shone like twin eclipses.

“I have given her one night’s peace,” the woman said. “And in return, she has given me the dreams she no longer had the strength to hold.”

The Archmage drew his staff, but the stranger merely smiled, brushing a lock of hair behind the girl’s ear.

“Fear not. I harm only what is already breaking.”

When dawn came, the woman was gone. The girl awoke rested—but never dreamed again.

Scholar’s Note (Aildëhnal Context)

This excerpt is one of the earliest Aildëhnal references to the Sleepmother, portraying her as a tragic, liminal figure rather than a predator. The orchard metaphor appears frequently in magocratic literature—dreams as fruit, sleep as soil, exhaustion as blight. Notably, she is depicted as respecting magical authority, which may reflect Aildëhnal bias rather than genuine behavior, as the story ends in on a happy note, with the daughter living a happy, but dreamless life, and going on to marry a mage-artist who paints dreams.

B. Zevemlyan Fairy-Tale

From Lessons for Young Loyalists, Edition 301, “The Nightmare Queen Who Stole Lazy Children”

There once was a girl who refused to obey the King’s Bells and would not go to bed when commanded. She snuck out at night to play among the manufactories, thinking herself cleverer than her parents or her king.

But the Nightmare Queen was waiting for disobedient children. Her eyes were black from never sleeping, and her teeth were white from eating the dreams of fools. When she found the girl awake on the tenth night, she smiled her frightful smile and whispered:

“Trade me your rest, little sinner, and I will grant you a wish.”

The girl asked for sweets that never ran out. The Queen kissed her forehead. The girl slept for a day and a night—and awoke with cakes spilling from her fingertips.

But she never slept soundly again. The sweets soured. Her hands trembled. She withered like dough left too long in the cold. And when at last she died, the Nightmare Queen dragged her spirit away.

This is why all good children obey the King’s Bells and sleep when Galvander commands it.

Scholar’s Note (Zevemlyan Context)

This version is heavily propagandized. The Nightmare Queen is recast as a moral hazard for the disobedient, reinforcing Galvander’s control over nightly routines. The “tenth night threshold” persists, but the benevolent aspects are erased; the entity becomes purely punitive. Disturbingly, some early editions replace “children” with “workers.” The tale’s structure mirrors several the underlying myth parallels Aulven experiences strongly enough to confirm shared origins.

C. Pirates of Ngākauwhenuan Tradition

“Kelenguenghua’s Whisper,” a Common Deckside Recitation

O Kelenguenghua, Sleeper-of-the-Deep,
Apprentice of the Ocean Queen,
She who tends the drowned dreams of sailors—
Hear us as we lower our heads to the sandless decks.

If our minds grow thin as rope left in the sun,
If our eyes burn like lantern glass,
If we drift too far from rest,
Come to us in your gentle hunger.

Take the rot from our exhausted spirits.
Trade us one night of soft oblivion,
That our hands may steady the wheel,
That our dreams may not fall into the sea unfinished.

And when our last night comes,
Guide us beneath the waves
To the quiet place where even storms sleep.

Scholar’s Note (Ngākauwhenuan Context)

Here she is venerated rather than feared. Sailors frame her as a sacred intermediary who “tends the drowned dreams”—an interpretation rooted in Ngākauwhenuan ocean-death traditions. Her hunger is not demonized; instead it is part of the spiritual economy of the sea. This stands in sharp contrast to Zevemlya’s punitive version and aligns more closely with the Aildëhnal/Aulven understanding of her as an ambiguous caretaker of the exhausted. In addition, the gift she gives seems less like a punishment than a gift to allow sailors to continue their work safely.

Historically, the origin varies as to where, but most accounts agree that she must have been either an insomniac or someone surrounded by them. Most likely she lived during the year between 431 (pre) and 400 (pre). As a strange disease filled the lands of Zevemlya and Ngākauwhenua. For nearly thirty years, people suffered from extreme insomnia, but it ended abruptly, the cases ending on the same evening. No cases of the Sleepmother were ever reported before The Sleeping Plague.

After the plagued people spoke of the lost time in their sleep, on the final night, when everyone slept, they has similar auditory sounds of a woman's voice. From then on, people often spoke of the sleepmother when they had gone too long without sleep, even those who weren't at ten days of sleep would mention hallucinations of a beautiful woman in the corners of their eyes.

The Sleepmother variation of the myth paints her as a kind, but terrifying figure, more like a ghostly nurse or relatable patient. The Aulvi, who are immortal are uncomfortable around her, and warn their people not to accept her deals, but to respect her offer.

Anadi have no experience with the Sleepmother, they believe that their honored dead both help them sleep and guard them from dangerous spirits. Also, among the people of Hechesoieh, the only ones who did not suffer from The Sleeping Plague were the Anadi.

The Nightmare Queen variation in Zevemlya is a sort of bogeyman tale used to scare children into going to bed on time. She is a dark spirit of the past that Galvander protects his people from, but those who tempt her renege on Galvander's protextion.

The Dream-eating Witch Kelenguenghua is a sort of spiritually accepted being. She is often tied to Tvohhdknohd Tvokhkhzohk- Ocean Queen as a sort of sorceress apprentice to the goddess of the sea. Sailor's pray to her before going to sleep, knowing that The Ocean Queennever actually listens to their pleas.

Art throughout Hechesoieh involving people sleeping often includes a woman with dark rings under her eyes somewhere in the scene.