The heavens unleash their tears, a torrential downfall of sorrow, washing the earth and soaking through all the quiet desolate unicorns of the blessing inhabiting the northern reaches of Helovia. It falls, the product of weeping gods, and splashes in the hot springs, hissing in the child's ears- for he is a child, a small little thing of no consequence to this world. And with the storm, he is reminded of the naiad, a wisp of a girl, willowy and slim, stomach heavy from a child carried within. A mare with the thunderclouds in her eyes and carved into her flesh, a svelte danseuse, a savior of his lost and troubled soul. It must be close to her time now, Carnesîr thinks to himself, brooding over the union of rain and death. Would the child be blessed, or would the child be cursed, coming from such an unlikely coupling? No; it would be sanctified, this foal, a treasured babe who the world would admire and who the smallpeople would whisper of as a legendary being with a fabled destiny set out for it's cleft hooves.

Inside a narrow hall with stone walls dripping with moisture as the storm thunders on outside, Carnesîr watches and awaits from one of the highest mountain caves he selected as his personal home upon entering the Basin. He preferred the frigid air which turned the rain to an icy sleet, the crisp flavor of it so pure and so light it almost made him dizzy with delight, the taste of it reminiscent of his home in the unnamed forests surrounded by the elvish unicorns. Down in the valley, the air was thick and dripping with heat emanating from the hot springs, and the noxious scent of minerals overpowered all else. Here in the sky he could almost imagine himself a flying creature, a beast with wings that hovered above the world, watching over its sanctuary.

He does not see Huyana climb up the mountain slopes, heaving her unborn child to the safety of a hidden cave; what he sees is Deimos, for the earth withers and chokes beneath black hooves, leaving a trail of grass the gray of death behind the Reaper. What summons Carnesîr is no sure feeling, only intuition that whispers there is a story to come. The little unicorn comes down the hill, sure-footed as a mountain goat, fearless and at home among the meandering rock trails. He follows the ghastly trail of decay and shadow, and moves swiftly, a wraith among the rain, a spectre and phantom turned black by the wet that soaks him immediately upon stepping out from the dry shelter of his little shabby home.

In times to come, the smallpeople will say it was Carnesîr who first recorded the queen of flowers, the lady of falling blossoms, when she was just a bundle of mucus and blood expelled from her mother's womb. They will tell you that it was Carnesîr who first began writing the legend of the daughter brought into this world by the blasphemous agglutination of darkness and rain. He will later tell the world that the child was named Lothíriel by the Reaper, and in Carnesîr's most intimate thoughts, Lothíriel Mormeriliel, Mormeriliel translating to daughter of black roses.

Families flourish and houses prosper, wealth drains and money is gained. They are ancient words, a saying so old the first maker of them is long forgotten. It is these words, the ceremonial sayings to the union of families, that spring to his mind unbidden as the elvish boy finds Deimos, and behind the lord, the terribly fragile form of Huyana and a child unnamed.

And the child! Wreathed in flowers, coated in jet and smoke, with a mane of cream and a lion's tail, with eyes cut of lavender. He glimpses this around Deimos' warding form, and a smile lights his lips, warms his rain-drenched face. Will Deimos give a smile for the birth of his daughter? Or will the god of death remain silent? Carnesîr does not care; he laughs, joyfully, but he does not dare move closer for fear of death touching him, reaching for his soul. "Alae, Deimos! Savo 'lass a lalaith!" The colt calls out, voice lilting and falling more beautifully than ever. "Huyana, Hiril vuin. Alassenyan, allow me to be brother to your child. Let me teach her, play with her, be her friend and love her as siblings do."