Swarthy clouds seemed to shroud the entire world in darkness; not even the stars dared to reveal their luminous faces today. That night was ominous, a shroud of obscurity, an inky veil seemingly pulled over that haven for unicorns.

Cloven hooves stumbled through winding mountain paths as the first drops began to fall.

The roan had felt a vague sense of disquiet the last few days, building up slowly into a feeling of utter, stirring unease. It was something she had felt at various times throughout her life, a sensation that made her want to crawl out of her own skin—this was foreboding, restlessness, like a storm cloud, filled with water, that floats over the earth for a place to rain upon. Huyana wanted to be alone in this state of disquiet, and banished herself into the high crown of mountains which surrounded the Basin like stone sentinels, hiding the rain mare as she fretted and waited.

Horn upon stone spelled out a frantic beat as the rain began to spill faster, heavier, drawing a halo around the inky form as she hurried ever upward, muscles straining as she climbed toward the gaping mouths of the high caves. The mare was almost comically round; all belly with slender legs attempting to right themselves as they inevitably lost balance under the weight of her bulk. She cried out as the fitfulness and discomfort culminated in shots of pain along her barrel, causing her to reel wildly in the relentless rain and the small trail she followed. Hurt, she was hurting, and her pace increased into a clumsy jarring trot, hooves slipping over the pebbles. Never in her life had she been so ungainly, and the graceful feet she had relied on for so long conspired to betray her in their swollen soreness. Every step forward was uncertainty, and she felt as if the safety of the caves was a luxury out of reach, and she felt that her element colluded to destroy her utterly and completely. Should she let herself be laid down here, in this driving rain and rock? Eyes turned heavenward, squinting against the water; vaguely, she saw the highest peak rise ominously above her, like a sentinel made of stone, its tip hazy and indefinable as the wisps of clouds held it within their roiling bellies.

Desolate and panicked, the roan continued unremittingly through the rain, reminding herself that she'd live to see the day. She strained and pushed forward, until her limbs threatened to buckle beneath her, and then she reached the mouth of a cave, lovely and welcoming. In a cacophony of clattering hooves on stone and packed dirt, the dark form stumbled into the embrace of its dryness, sending a spray of droplets across the stony floor. Huyana staggered several paces forward, where the curving back wall of the grotto could offer respite from wind and stray drops and cloak her in shadow. She leaned against it, shivering with dampness and worry, feeling so uncharacteristically helpless against the continuous tirade of agony which wracked her body from the inside out, threatening to topple whatever frail wall of composure and modesty she had built for herself. Powerless and alone is what she was—it was a senseless idea to have sought out solitude for something as urgent and perilous. This, the act of ushering forth life, was the most dangerous thing she had ever attempted, moreso than trying to fight off shades or staving off sorrow.

She groaned as the agony was felt stronger and with more frequency; it was not the decisive pain of battle, but the squirming sort of unbearable, the kind that made you gnash your teeth with impatience and despair and utter helplessness. You could not stave it off with a salve or a bullet between teeth; it gnawed at you until every fiber of your being was utterly and completely numb. She cried out as a particularly cruel contraction sent a pang of dolor reeling through her small frame. Knees buckled, giving into instinct as she laid herself, hopelessly wet and dripping, on the cavern floor, leonine tail lashing violently as if it could abate the pain. "Father," she whimpered, clinging to the comforting syllables of the world, feeling as lonely and helpless as the child she once was and forever would be, cynically wondering if he still remembered his blue-eyed daughter. Would he recall my name? she pondered bitterly, would he care if I was reduced to dust and ash? Huyana felt delirious.

Damp air came rapidly through her nares, inflating her chest with every frantic breath as nature gave her the urge to push, to expel the body within her into the damp world. Occasionally, she would tempt a peek back, but the only thing she saw was the massive, roiling swell of her side and the black tuft of her tail, splayed awkwardly against stone. Rain pattered on relentlessly outside, like a pale sheet staving off the night from intruding. When will this end? she wondered, trembling with increasing weakness—would she perish as so many other mothers-to-be before her—was she condemned to the whims of this dangerous line of duty? Huyana cried out once more, body tensing excruciatingly with every thrust it dealt, leaving her breathless and dizzy. "Deimos," the girl mewled, resting her cheek on the cold stone, watching the blustering threshold as if she could summon the general with a mere murmur.

From the curtain of impellent rain emerged a form, looming and dark and dire, impeding the tirade of droplets which managed to stray into the cavern. For a maddened moment, mind aberrant from the pain parturition, Huyana thought it was Death itself come to deliver her from the agony, to exalt her into the realm of the dead. Neck muscles strained as she hoisted her face upward to watch the form approach, a ring of alarm flashing around her eyes. But I'm not ready, she desperately wanted to plead—she would kiss his feet, pray, beg, anything to stay and herald her babe to life. Too soon, too soon, the rain mare thought, forelegs desperately clawing the floor in an attempt to flee; but the panic soon faded as the figure became apparent—blue eyes watched her. "Deimos," she breathed between gritted teeth, letting the dark head drop onto the coolness of the ground, finally finding some sort of comfort in the inky, wet world she had found herself in. He would guard her and the unborn from the imminence of any possible dissolution, she knew; he would tear their souls from their throats given the chance, and no matter how much that disquieted her and went against every ideal she had, it comforted her to know she would always be safe in his presence. I am here, he said, and the roan relinquished her fears and fixated instead on ushering forth impending life.

Limbs thrashed as the pain increased to an unbearable amount, convulsing through her sides and building steadily in her chest, in her belly; the child was too large for the minute mare, and they both struggled as it came into the world. Huyana grunted as she bit back a scream: would this be the climax of her suffering, she wondered, feeling weak and exhausted and utterly drained.

But as soon as she felt as if she would not last much longer, the agony abated as the slight body erred from her own, slipping into this cold, dank world with little fanfare. Every fiber of her body relaxed, aching and glad, and the mare let herself rest for several fleeting moments, waiting for her breath to steady before daring a peek toward the new life.

But a flash of vibrance caught her eye.

Her gaze flicked toward it, momentarily distracted from the child—it was a flower, a violet bunch of agapanthis growing astonishingly from the stone before her nose. Odd, the rain mare thought as she lipped it curiously; she hadn't seen it before, but it would have been easy to miss the tiny thing in the height of delivery, when pain addled her thoughts and clouded her sight. Delicate, it was, thin petals glowing dimly in the shadow, seemingly ending the travail of her labor and heralding the dawn of a new existence. Consigning the bloom as an anomaly, she forgot it in favor of her newborn. Blue eyes groped through the darkness to find the living thing she had produced. She found the pale, wet, awkward form nestled in the curve of her tail, thin sides rising and falling faintly as she took in her first breaths. To her wonderment, the rain mare found the babe strewn over a bed of flowers, a colorful garden which cushioned her from the cold cavern floor and saved her from the night's chill. Blue eyes softened, amazement settling in the back of her throat as she smiled tiredly at the sight. "She is blessed," Huyana said, drowsy but exultant nonetheless. Her sea-blue gaze was fixated steadily on their daughter, fondness and love and affection blooming in her heart in place of weariness and fatigue, filling the cracks where sorrow once dwelled, where loss and remorse had been tenants for as long as she remembered.

Mustering all the strength she could assemble, the blue lady raised herself from the stone in a clatter of hooves. A large child she was, ungainly limbs sprawled carelessly over the bed of flowers which bore the burden of her wet. Head inclining, the new mother began her industrious cleaning, tearing what remained of the milky film away and lapping at her damp, downy fur until every inch of her gaunt frame was clean and warm and loved.
The promise of a horn made an awkward nub on her brow, pushing through a fine whorl of hair in a harmless bump. Their child was dark in color, though it was obvious she would take after her scholar mother, for thin silver fur waited below the jet baby down. She had achromatic hair, which reminded the roan of the faded tuft of mane which played behind Deimos' ears. Absurdly long, delicate pale lashes sheltered lurid eyes—her father's eyes, though their hue was too florid to match his chroma exactly; they were lilac, like the first flowers, hints and flashes of brighter color suggesting magenta bordering the pupil. Beautiful eyes; flower eyes, the roan thought, caressing her daughter's nose with affection and devotion in its most absolute form.

The babe gave a sputtering bleat, the tangle of her legs stirring incoherently as hunger stirred within the depths of her empty belly. With infinite care, the rain mare nudged the child's rump, encouraging it onto gawky forelimbs. She abided, having no other choice, managing to clamber onto all four legs before collapsing into a bumbling heap. Huyana laughed, sounding tired and thrilled and positively charmed by this maladroit thing, and continued to to assist the babe several more times until she stood on mercurial legs, trembling and new and utterly unsure; every quivering step she took scattered flowers across the cold stone, bright and vivid against the cold grey of rock. It took little urging to get the hungry child to suckle, and with care the mother guided her aimless bairn to the curve of her belly, where the soft new lips latched on to swollen teats. With the first duties of motherhood momentarily relieved, the mare glanced upward to the Reaper, sleepy and utterly content. "What is her name?" she queried, voice ringing softly through the cavern; she trusted Deimos to bequeath the suckling with a fitting title.

Unable to keep her eyes off their daughter for long, Huyana watched the babe as she nursed, a fine coat of milk glazing her lips as she drank the vital fluid. Never had Huyana seen a more beautiful being, every feature clearly alluding to future grace, even through the artlessness of infancy. This child was living proof that exquisite things could bloom from the most desolate of places: death and rain could produce flowers; the world was not so barren as it seemed. After a moment of thought and a slight laugh, the roan peered upward to her beloved once more, mirth in her weary eyes. "She takes after you."

Outside, the rain broke and the clouds scattered, revealing a swarthy sky glowing with a borealis that mirrored the brilliance of the newborn's baptism of petals.