~ Prologue ~
Vengeful Grey thoughts,

“Drift in and out of reality,”

Inkialee stared at the quarter waning moon. It seemed huge, a great irregular crescent, cutting up the oblivion like sky; No stars decorated around the moon, nor any clouds blurring it. Inkialee glared at the moon, angry at it for the irrelevant fact that the shadow had covered the moon, and was huffing slightly from the weight of the rocks she was pulling along. “Too good for me, eh?!” She had yelled, as if the shadow covered the moon purposely. “Why hide?!” The sound died quickly across the hard, desert like ground of rocks. The moon had no response, didn’t shine any brighter or duller. The same moon, never changing. Shaking her head, Inkie turned to glare at the floor. That way, there was less of the chance of tripping over and breaking the wheels or her legs from a rock determined to make her day… her night worse.

Once again Inkialee was working past dusk, due to her being the only pony in the family able to work on the rock farm. The workers got their shifts. They ended work just before the sun set so they could get home. But to Inky, this was her home. And the rocks still needed to be transported before tomorrow, so guess who had to do it?
Inkie’s parents were too old now. Pinkamena and Blinkette had gone, years ago. So Inkialee continued pulling the rocks through a steady tread in the half light, under the irregular moon.
“Dreaming of a life ahead,
where this life is as good as dead,
living under the celestial sun,
instead of pulling this dreary ton” She sung exhausted in dreary unhappiness, the anger drawn out of her. She usually did brilliantly in anything that included words, but she was too tired for tonight, and the usually velvet sounding words hung heavily and disastrously rookie-like.

She got to a place near to an empty road that had light dust on it. After nudging a few bricks under the wheels to stop the cart from moving she sat down on her rump, leaning back against it. She felt stressed – sleepless nights made her eyes heavy, and dust in her tail and mane made her itch. After catching her breath she got up and walked back to her house, head and ears low, hooves and her usually straight, but knotted mane dragging on the floor.

She was fed up with her life. She was stuck at a rock farm, she was alone, but most of all she was going no-where. For who else would look after the farm? She shook her head and reared up where she stood, before running back to her house, wanting to get to her bed. Perhaps it would put all these thoughts away, like her mother had said when she was young.
~*~
Inkialee walked into her bedroom, huffing, and her head once again low, eyes hurting, both feeling like they had weights on. She blew her dark grey hair out of her eyes before stepping into her room.

Inkialee hesitated, her left hoof bent, just about to take another step. A sharp contrast to the surroundings outside and to Inkie herself, the room was rainbow coloured. Bright blue fluffy fabric – though, with the occasional ink and food stain – cushioned her hooves and bright watercolours danced on the walls, also stained with ink; partly because of the design, partly because of accidents and partly because of tantrums. Well, she had did have this room from a filly, after all.

Inkialee walked softly and slowly into the room, as her parents were sleeping opposite her door. The main thing that struck her, as if she had never seen it before, was that all of her furniture was a bright pink, or a very light stone blue. She looked down on herself. She saw the ends of dark grey hair, and light grey forelegs and hooves. Under her was a bright pink carpet, highlighted by the moon.

This whole place was making negative emotions strangle her, reaching out like shadows, ready to crush her. She lowered her head in sorrow, an angry expression making its way onto her face. It felt like she had a stone at the bottom of her stomach. She breathed in before holding her head high and letting it out, before trotting to her mirror on the desk, and getting a hairbrush that hid behind it. She brushed her mane that fell to just below her shoulder slowly, and then put it back. The desk was in full light of the moon, just under the window. Ink stains covered the desk, and a pile of new sheets of cartilage paper to her left, and a bunch of messy used ones on her right. Grabbing a new sheet, as well as her writing feather, she sat down and begun writing, as part as her sleeping ritual.

‘Of a feather,
Sharp and soft,
That fell of a greyjay,
What brought you this way?

For as long as I have known,
I have never seen a bird such as you,
That followed winding paths,
That I followed too.

Oh, Dear greyjay,
Don’t follow I,
But follow my past, my shadow,
But careful, ¡cuidado!

For a past can be riddled,
Dark and twisted,
Like black roses afore you,
On a dark summers anew.’

Underneath the writing she doodled artistically. She considered herself an artist, as she believed art was not just in paint, but all around her. However, she was truly talented in ink paintings. So she dabbed, dotted and stroked ink at the bottom of the page, in the form of a jay swooping. Below it, as if in a signature, she wrote her name.
‘Inkialee Greyjay Pie’
She blew, softly, to help it dry. She then checked the page as a whole, adding more ink in places, or blowing as if whispering at the paper in places where the ink was wet. She had been writing with her hoof for a long time, and it looked as good as writing produced with a unicorns magic. She then looked at it. Finished. Once she was done, she put it on top of the other inky papers.

She did think herself talented in that area, and many thought that it would be her cutie mark. But no, and while Inkialee could not be classed as adult just yet, she was quite old to not have her cutie mark. She was not a filly, nor had been for a while. She shook her head of that thought before looking in the mirror.

She was still, and was pale. Wrinkles of exhaustion and stress hovered round her young face, especially round her eyes. A few small scars from accidents down the mine. Once again she spotted the problem between her and the room. She didn’t belong there. For what colours did she have, other than her purple eyes - that were usually lowered to the ground for a reason or another anyway? But the thought struck her mind again. With calmness she considered it. She agreed. She did not belong here.

So she walked with a purposeful tread out of the door of her room. It had been long enough.

In her parent’s room, she saw her parents and two foals in a cot beside them. Her parents had grey streaks in their hair. While Inkialee had no real amount of love for them and their sternness, now days anyway, she was still fond of them. She kissed the head softly of each parent, then walked to the cot, where she Rayla and Rain. They weren’t her actual sister and brother, but for Rain, she wanted him to be.

Ignoring Rayla, she walked over to Rain and kissed his head. ‘I am sorry, Rayray’. She stepped back and looked at them both, both of them too big for a cot, being at the older toddler stage. The farm couldn’t afford the travel or costs to buy a bed, for now. The shadows were deep over them. Rain was hugging his teddy bear tightly, which is what she was there for. Inkie, with a smooth motion, slipped the bear out of his arms. The smart foal. He would remember what it meant. She then turned to walk out, but not before putting her used quill on her parents stool next to their beds. She walked back into her bedroom. She grabbed her pouch of bits, which was full from little donations from the start of her life. It would do her for a decent time. Then she grabbed her grey-brown saddle pack (it had lost all its saturation from the amount of times it was used), which was made of some kind of tough material and put it all in.

Before she walked out again, she grabbed the very top most used sheet of paper, then the bottom most. With a hesitation, she then went up to the mirror with a sudden movement, she picked up her hairbrush and hit the mirror with it, which shattered. Some pieces of glass cut her, but nothing serious, but she quickly, while trying to be silent, ran; hoping her parents wouldn't come after her. She did not know that all they would do was murmur in their sleep. She didn't know about the mark that appeared on her flank as she ran.
A quick grey blur on hard ground, the strong muscles from turning the rock proved its use and got her far away.
~*~
Sue rolled around a bit, as she came out of a deep sleep. She suddenly woke up sharply, thinking she heard a noise, which had actually happened ten minutes ago. Clyde slept soundly – as always – beside her. She got out of bed slowly, something unnerving her. Nothing seemed to be wrong, or disturbed however. She looked at the twins. Nothing wrong, to her eyes, even though she hadn’t got her glasses on. She looked at the calendar. A few days till autumn. A soft smile graced her face as she thought about her daughters. She climbed back into bed, and fell asleep again.
The morning after, the scene would be filled with worry, as the third, final daughter was found gone from her bed.

Author's Note

Okay. Hello. First things first. I am new-ish. I prefered to read and watch for a while, but I am here now.
Next thing, If you are confused It may be because I want you to be. However, feel free to mention it in the comments; I might not have meant to do it!
I am fine with constructive criticism, but, like everyone else, I love random praise!
If you give this story a 'thumbs down' could you tell me why? You don't have to say you have put it down, but I can't fix what I don't know is wrong!
I really hope you enjoy, and reviews are really appreciated! I will answer as many questions as I can in the comments.

Oh, I nearly forgot. I wont post the first chapter until I have got the first few chapters on word. Then I will be posting one, on every fifth day, or something. I'll try my best to hurry up for you! It may take a few days, to a week or so, but I'll try my best, and will probably succeed for updating in less then a month!