Author's Notes:

If you don't like this, tell me why. If you do like this, tell me why. Don't get all shy or easy on me, I need to know what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong. Anyways, let us begin our journey.

Please note that this is expecting at least a thorough grammatical revision in the future, and perhaps a deeper revision too. There are several reoccurring stylistic errors and typos I need to fix, to say the least.
Chapters revised: 1/28

It was quiet now, except for the wind and rain that gently pelted the sands. There was peace. The pegasus looked around from her skewed vantage point. Dark grey skies, grey sea, muddy brown sand. Somewhere in the distance, a soft bell tolled, warning of disaster too late. A piece of broken wood nudged at her rear legs. No one screamed now, no one cried out, no one lamented their fate. It was quiet.

Maelstrom Blackwind lay dying on the shore.

She appreciated the irony, that was for sure. A pegasus killed by weather. But that was a lie. The storm hadn't killed her; the storm and wreck were just to finish her off. The alicorn princess was the one that had killed her, three weeks ago. Only their God knew how she had survived this long with such a wound. Only the God of the men rushing towards her, on their three-toed brutish mounts. The alicorns had said they were slaves; Maelstrom had never known one to be any more than a simple-minded animal. The alicorns said a lot of things that weren't true, in the end. The humans flew the blue flower of Loiar, on a white field. It was a pretty thing. Maelstrom had always liked it, and so had Tempest.

“Equestrians!” one of the men shouted, galloping up.

“What were they doing here?” another asked, dismounting.

“Must've been important to try and sail through that storm.”

“These weren't mere Equestrians!” stated a third, far more familiar voice. Determination masked its pain; someone knelt down next to her. “Maelstrom Blackwind.” said he.

“The pretender we're helping in the war?” questioned the first voice.

“The rightful Queen of Highcrest!” snapped back the voice above her. Maelstrom looked up, and tried to smile as best she could. Prince Aharôs Loiar of Athair looked down at her, icy eyes no longer so cold, frowning out of fear rather than displeasure. This was the first time she’d ever seen him uncertain.

“I’m n-not a... pretender...” she coughed out, digging at the sand as the wheezes racked her. Aharôs pulled her close, taking her off the cold, wet sand. At least she wouldn’t die alone.

“What have they done to you?” quietly asked Aharôs, noticing the bloodied bandaged stumps of her wings. He looked somewhere between rage and horror.

“We were... So close!” gasped Maelstrom. “So close... We almost- almost had them, Aharôs.” She succeeded in smiling this time. “We almost had them. You should have been there.” For a moment, Maelstrom was there. In the thick of the battle again, nearing the final triumph of House Blackwind. The din of combat and the roar of the human's cannons briefly drowned out the rain and wind. A blinding light appeared, roaring like a fire; the arrival of the alicorn princess.

And then came other noises, from an older time. Horrible, unearthly roars and howls, as if the forces of darkness had taken a step into the world. The door remained closed; a poor soul tried to get out, but... They asked for it. They laughed at me. They betrayed me. It was their own doing! When the sorcerer had emerged, the room was covered in frost and frozen blood. They never did find a single piece of a body. Maelstrom always figured those sounds would haunt her to her grave... And now here they were, to bid her a final farewell. What she had heard that day behind that door was almost enough to bring her to the human faith. There was evil in this world, she had realized.

But now, the rain and wind was all there was again. One of the humans had begun hacking and prodding at something with his halberd.

“Who did this?” Aharôs asked again, a tremor in his voice.

“Celestia.” Maelstrom said. “Celestia... I underestimated that girl... She was so... fast...”

“Looks like the Sun Queen got involved. Doesn't bode well for our men over there.” noted the second voice. Aharôs pulled off his cloak, and draped it over Maelstrom. He didn’t want to see what had been done to her.

“My Prince, survivors!” announced a fourth voice, over the sound of moving debris. Tempest! “This one looks like a child.” Thank God, Maelstrom thought. If this was her punishment for what she’d done, Tempest had been spared.

“A child?” asked Aharôs, a distant look coming over him. “Yes, Tempest…”

“Tempest... Second of her-” A spike of pain from her side caused a groan of agony. “My daughter.” breathed Maelstrom, trying to not fall into the blackness surrounding her vision. Of all the fights she had gone through in her life, holding onto the last ounce of life within her may have been the hardest.

“Shit.” swore one of the humans. “She doesn't look so good. Poor thing must be freezing after being stuck in that water so long.” Maelstrom turned to look at them; one of the humans wrapped Tempest up in his cloak, rain on his armor be damned.

“Bring her over, Turaz.” ordered Aharôs. Turaz obeyed, and passed into her vision.

“Don't let her...” Another fit of coughs. “Don't let her forget!” Maelstrom weakly placed a hoof on Aharôs's chest, which he held tightly. He was trying so hard to keep collected, to keep his calm, cold manner in line with his reputation. But anyone seeing a friend die before their eyes would feel something, Maelstrom knew that well. She had been the Aharôs of this situation too many times. “She- she must return. The throne... Promise me!” Maelstrom said, pleading. Aharôs nodded, mouth moving but not speaking. “Promise me you'll...” More coughs, more agony. Turaz knelt down too, holding Tempest, bundled up in his cloak.

“I'll raise her as one of my own.” promised the Prince, as if he were already a father. Maelstrom knew he wasn’t. “She'll know who she is, where she came from. She'll be as great a warrior as you, and learn from the greatest scholars of our kingdom. House Blackwind will live yet.” Aharôs affirmed, holding her hoof tightly.

“That's all I can ask...” The darkness closed in. No! Not yet! “Tempest!” she tried to say, but the words were little pebbles falling out of her mouth. Maelstrom could hardly hear herself.

“Mother!” came the cry of a filly. “What-” There she was, her little girl. Fur grey as the blue sea, mane like charcoal spread on a sheet. Red eyes met Maelstrom's own. She was cut and bruised from the storm's cruelty, soaked by the rain and sea, shivering like a flame in a winter wind. But she was alive. “What's happening?” Tempest asked, terrified and confused. She doesn't know the human tongue…

“Tempest-” Maelstrom raised her head, speaking in her native Equestrian. “Trust Aharôs. He will- he will help you take what is yours.”

“But- I-” Tempest wasn't trying to keep from crying. “I don't understand- You can't-” Maelstrom glanced at Aharôs; and saw an echo of the pain that was in her daughter's eyes. You've said these words to someone, too, Maelstrom realized. “Don't go!”

“Turaz, put her down.” ordered Aharôs. Tempest rushed straight to her, putting unsteady legs on the Prince’s knee.

“I can’t stay.” Maelstrom said, darkness edging in about her. She reached out with one hoof and hugged Tempest close. If she had been a wiser mare, she would have considered this day possible. Maelstrom had always thought her last moments with Tempest would be many years ahead, when she was old and her daughter ready to stand on her own. “It wasn’t- it wasn’t supposed to be like this,” she confessed, blinking back her own tears, “but… make me proud, Tempest. Don’t be afraid.” Another set of coughs hit her.

“Maelstrom, I-” started Aharôs, before he paused. “I won’t forget you.” he finally said. Maelstrom didn’t know who looked more distraught: her daughter or her friend. At least she’d die close to both. For a few minutes more, Maelstrom clung to life, embracing her daughter one last time. Aharôs held them both, while Turaz leaned on his halberd and bowed his head, letting the rain drip off him.

The darkness slowly swept over her, and all things faded away. Peace, at last. So passed Maelstrom Blackwind, Queen of Highcrest, a thousand miles from home, on the cold shores of Athair.