Violet Eyesby ShadestepWarriorChaptersChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter OneCHAPTER ONE Pinkamena was crying. Well, not crying, really. More just sniffling and giving watery smiles as her family gave her hugs goodbye. To tell the truth, though, Inkie envied her. She, along with her parents and other sister, Blinkie, watched as Pinkie started down the long road alone. The road to Ponyville. The road to a real life. Long after the rest of her family had dispersed with teary eyes to work or recreate, Inkie, a cold, bluish-gray earth pony with a darker mane and violet eyes, continued to gaze out over the dirt road. It was only a few months since Pinkie had earned her cutie mark, but the days had brightened up considerably since then. More time for play. Parties. Interesting food that Pinkie had invented. Their mother had noticed that Pinkie seemed to have a talent for cooking, and therefor had signed her up for apprenticeship to the Cake family. She would live there from now on. Inkie looked sadly at her own cutie mark. She had been the last one in her family to get it, and it was pathetic, at least in her mind. Numbers and letters. Of all the talents in the world, she had to have math and writing. Well, the world can always use another college professor, she thought bitterly, and wandered outside. It was sunny, the sky smeared with stale, sickly clouds. Crows cawed angrily at each other as they fought over the half-dead trees between the gray fields. She sighed longingly and wished she was the one going to live in town, not the one to stay here minding the rocks and listening to the birds. She walked, uncaring, through the fields and to the shady woods; she still had an hour before dinner. The gray pony climbed over slippery, mossy rocks as a few gnats swam in dizzy circles around her head. She breathed in the moist air as she progressed into the darkness dappled with sunlight. She travelled until she got to a small, bubbling brook, so alive, so different from the rock farm in all it’s deadness. The bluish pony crawled onto a rock and sat there, hunched up, as she gazed dejectedly at her rippling reflection in the water. It looked like she felt. Cold. Broken into different rippling sections spread over the water. I don't want to be here anymore, she though loathingly. I should leave. Get a real life. Never even been into town. Inkie knocked a piece of moss into the brook and watched it sail away, bob sadly up and down, and sink. And why shouldn't I go into town? The idea flew into her head in a mad rush, like a chicken with a fox after it. She was almost a mare now; she had every right to take a simple trip into town, and she was sure she could take of herself. She had her cutie mark, and it was about time that she put it to use in the world. Inkie stood up and looked into her reflection. Maybe she would go into town; not now, of course, but later. Tomorrow. She would get up, get all her work done early, and leave for the day. Pleased with her idea, Inky stood up and began her treck back through the woods. She was just in time for dinner, which was some sort of... soup, it looked like. Or maybe overboiled pasta. Inkie couldn't tell, and didn't really want any, but she sat down next to her sister, Blinkie, a dull blue earth pony with a silvery mane and gold eyes. “Looks delicious, eh, Inkie?” Blinkie whispered to her with a smirk. “What, did you make this?” Inkie mumbled back, poking at the unappetizing meal with a fork. She was really going to miss Pinkamena. “Don't just poke at it,” her mother reprimanded sternly. “I worked hard on this,” Blinkie almost spit out her food with a squack-like laugh, and their mother whipped around to face her. “Blinkamena! We do NOT laugh with food in our mouths!” Blinkie gave a small smile and swallowed. Yeah, Inkie couldn't wait to leave. Dinner was... exciting, to say the least. Blinkie almost choked on her food three times, their mother got angry halfway through because their father couldn't even try to come in on time, and Inkie accidentally jabbed her sister with a fork. Eventually, Inkie just got up and left the table. She didn't pay any attention to her mother yelling at her to 'get back here, young lady'. Nor did she pay any attention to Blinky shouting 'oooh, you're gonna get it!'. She didn't listen to anyone; she didn’t need to. She realized then that she had made up her mind a long time ago what she was going to do with her life. Heck, forget about waiting for tomorrow. It was a beautiful summer night out. As she strode purposefully down the road, a small smirk spread over her face. In all it’s lights and freedom, town would be beautiful. Inkie continued to walk down the road, feeling less and less like this was a good idea. It wasn’t like she minded the dark; she had worked long hours into the night before; and anyway, the dark was comforting to her. She liked it, the calm and quiet without the monotonous hammering of metal on rock to listen to, no complaining of her sister, no cawing of crows. Just the wind in the trees, the chirping of crickets. It was just that- well, what would happen when she got home? Maybe if she went back now, she could get away without too much embarrassment. There was no one on the road, and Inkie didn't know wether to be scared somepony else would pass her, or that she would be all alone on the long walk to town; she shook her head and bit her lip to keep the static in her mind from engulfing her. Focus, Inkie. We're just going to town. You're not scared of other ponies, are you? Well, yes, she was. She was never the 'social butterfly' like Pinkie; neither was she the 'funny girl' like Blinkie. She was the sulker, the one who liked being alone and not talking to anyone. Why she couldn't meet anypony's eyes, why she couldn't voluntarily speak to anypony outside her family, she didn't know. She just couldn't. She noticed the lights of the town up ahead, and for a moment she panicked and considered running home. Then she checked herself, told herself she couldn't go home now, and lifted her head high. She would look respectable in town if it killed her. She was at the edge of town almost before she knew it. The windows were lit up, and there was a cafe or so scattered around that were still open and oozed a delicious smell of fresh-baked food; Inkie would have bought a late-night snack if she had money. She made a mental note to bring some money next time, and remembered; there might not even be a next time. She couldn't think of that, though; she had to continue. As she went deeper and deeper into the town, the ponies outside grew in number; they seemed to be going in all one direction. Her curiosity getting the best of her, Inkie followed. There were a few lamps hung up on polls next to the street, casting a soft yellow glow on everypony's coat. Everypony was watching something breathlessly, silent and still. Inkie made her way through the crowd to see what they were all looking at. They were gathered in a circle about ten feet across, leaving the pony in the middle with some room. She was standing upright with her eyes closed and was playing some sort of instrument. Then she opened one eyes halfway, and she could have been a mirror image of Inkie herself. She was a warm gray with a long, darker mane that fell over her shoulder and ended in a slight twist. Her tail was in the same style, and she had purple eyes that were somewhat narrow, and, Inkie thought, quite sophisticated and beautiful looking. The instrument she played looked like a violin except it was much bigger and the round end rested on the ground, with the long part held in the pony's hoof. The music she played was beautiful, with long, low notes that carried themselves through the crowds. Inkie had never heard anything so beautiful, so she was content just to stand and listen. It seemed only moments until the mare had seemingly finished. The song ended with a long, fluid note, then she stood motionless. It was amazing how she could make one wither under her violet gaze. One by one, then in groups, everypony disspersed. Except for Inkie. The mare, apparently not seeing Inkie, bent over and started putting her instrument away in a long, black case. Inkie was, for the first time, thankful for her dusky gray coat that hid her among the shadows. Inkie wanted to hear the mare play more of that music. Wanted to watch her perform. She was amazing. For a moment, Inkie wondered why such a talented mare was performing in a small town in the middle of the night, but she pushed the though away; she should be thankful. But what did it matter? She would probably never get to see her play her music again. But... wait a second.... She wanted to leave her home and find a job elsewhere, right? And, more than anything, she wanted to hear this pony's music. What if she could do both? Maybe this pony needed some help with... whatever it was she did. Could she be a secretary or something? Well, it wouldn't hurt to ask. Except for the actual asking part, that is. She gulped at the prospect of walking up to this sophisticated mare and asking if she could work for her; most likely the answer would be no, anyhow. The mare was just about done packing up and was clipping the case shut. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, Inkie pulled herself out of the shadows and walked up to the mare. “Can I help you?” the pony asked, looking up. “I was- um- wondering if... I could work for you.” Inkie tripped over the words. The mare stood up with the bag. “I'm sorry, but I don't really have money to pay somepony to work for me. If you didn't noticed, I'm playing on the street.” Inkie was shocked momentarily that such a talented mare was poor, but sucked it up quickly, and her mind raced for something to say. “I don't want to be paid.” she said quickly. I just want to her you play your music.” The mare raised one eyebrow. “You really think I'm good?” she asked. Inkie wanted to scream that yes, she was extremely good, but kept herself together. “Yes. And... I want to help you become well-known. I want everyone to hear your music.” The mare seemed thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “You'll promise to help me get my goal?” she asked. “What's your goal?” Inkie asked. “I want to get to the Gala.” the mare said with a wistful breath. “To play on the stage at the greatest party in Equestria... that has always been my dream.” “I promise.” Inkie said, and she meant it. “Alright.” the pony said, snapping the case shut and holding out a hoof. “I'm Octavia.” Inkie took it. “I'm Inkie.” “So, Inkie.” Octavia said. “What can you do?” Inkie could feel herself blushing. “Well... I, uh... I can write and do math in my head quickly.” she said awkwardly. “Great.” Octavia said, picking up the bag. “You'll take care of the profits, spending, advertising and whatnot.” The mare paused. “Don't you have a home or anything?” Oh. Right. That. “Um....” Inkie tried to think of an explanation, but couldn't think of anything. “I ran away.” she said finally. Octavia shrugged. “Well, that's as good a reason as any.” she replied. “Meet me here tomorrow morning. I have a small show over in Manehattan, and I like to be early.” Before Inkie could reply, Octavia has disappeared into the shadows. Chapter TwoCHAPTER TWO Inkie was left alone on the dark streets, illuminated only faintly by flickering and failing lamp posts. It was oddly quiet, and she suddenly wanted to get out of there. She subconsciously began heading home, then she realized that if she went home, she wouldn't ever be allowed to leave again. She'd never work up the courage, and she’d be trapped on that sad little rock farm forever. Where will I stay? she wondered. She couldn't stay wherever Pinkie was; she didn't know where the bakery was, and anyway, Pinkie had just moved in. It wouldn't be fair to expect the Cakes to have to feed and house her also, if only for the night. After wandering the streets, Inkie found an alleyway that was dark and shadowed. It was the best place that she was going to find, and seeing how it was warm outside anyway, Inkie curled up into a ball and fell asleep. The sky was just fading into gray when Inkie awoke. Her coat was wet with dew, and it made her feel very sleepy and stupid. Pale stars still spangled the sky, and the pastel silver of a moon was just visible. Inkie's stomach growled, and she remembered that she hadn't eaten any of her dinner the night before, and she wondered how long she would have to go before she got any food. She briefly wondered how she would get any money to actually buy food if Octavia wasn't going to pay her, but she was too groggy to focus on it for very long. She sat up and smoothed out her mane, wishing she had a hairbrush, and cautiously made her way out of the alley. No pony was up this early, and for this the gray earth pony was thankful. Inkie stretched once more and trotted off to the place she had met Octavia the night before. The street lights were just turning off when she saw the gray mare, who was looking up at the gray sky and wearing an annoyed look on her face. My, she really does like to get up early, Inkie thought uncomfortably. “There you are.” Octavia said as she crossed her front hooves. “I've been waiting for an hour.” “Don't you ever sleep?” Inkie asked. “Not much.” Octavia admitted. “At least not at night. I have insomnia.” “Oh.” Inkie replied lamely, shuffling her hooves. Octavia flipped her mane. “Well, anyway.” she began as she picked up her cello case. “I say we do some shopping for food and other necessities- yes, I do have some money, I'm not that poor- and we can start for Manehattan. It's quite a bit busier there, and I hope to make some more money.” Without saying another word, Octavia whipped around and started walking away. Inkie had to almost run to keep up with the mare’s long strides. She would've asked where they were going if she hadn't been so out of breath, but when she looked up, her eyes widened in amazement at what she saw. It was something she had never seen before; an outdoor marketplace. Already some early ponies were setting up stands that had all kinds of things; fruits, vegetables, fresh bread, baked goods, beads, cloth, hoof-sewn saddle bags- anything anypony could ever want. Octavia put down her cello case and opened it. She took out a small bag and tossed it to Inkie. “You're in charge of the money now.” Octavia said, closing the case again. “Buy us some food and anything else we may need. It'll be a couple days to Manehattan, so make sure to prepare for that. I'll be waiting over there.” The gray mare waved in the general direction of a bench. “I expect you back in an hour.” “O-okay.” Inkie stammered. Octavia nodded and walked off. Inkie looked at the contents in the bag. It was filled with bits, and she though it would be just enough for them to get by, as long as they made some money in Manehattan as Octavia had promised. She started with purchasing food, mostly bread so they could make grass sandwiches on the way, then on to fruits and vegetables. She decided on buying herself some cheap saddle bags; she thought them necessary if she was going to have to carry all the supplies. After an hour of nervous haggling, the cool gray mare walked back to Octavia. “Hmm... what?” Octavia asked sleepily, apparently waking up from a nap. “Oh. Inkie. Good, you got everything.” The warm gray mare stood up and stretched. “Are you ready?” she asked. “Um....” Inkie said uncertainly. She should probably send her family a letter or something to let them know where she was. They would be terribly worried- No! she thought. Let them wait. Next time they saw her, she’d be working for the most famous and renowned pony in all of Equestria. “Yeah, I’m ready.” Inkie said, nodding her head jerkily in determination. The road was long and dusty and boring. Fortunately, Inkie was good at dealing with boredom. Octavia, however, was not. “I’m sick of this dusty old road.” Octavia snapped about two hours into the trip. “Usually I’m quite patient, but not in the face of all this nothing!” “You just have to look at stuff inside of your head.” Inkie yawned. “Nonsense.” Octavia said with a shake of her mane. “I say we just try to move faster. Pick up your pace, Inkie. If we go two times faster, we’ll arrive twice as fast.” At that, the warm gray mare started a brisk trot that Inkie almost had to run to keep up with. The cool gray mare cursed Octavia’s long legs and huffed along beside her. An hour passed, and finally Inkie said “Can we please just stop? I’m hungry and tired.” Octavia stopped abruptly and turned to her with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “You sound like a foal.” she whinnied. “I am NOT a foal!” Inkie almost yelled. She hated it when ponies called her that; it wasn’t her fault that she was little small. Even Blinkie, who was younger than her, would call her a foal, just because her cutie mark had come later. And what a cutie mark it is! Inkie though dismally. At least it got her a job. Octavia rolled her eyes. “Of course not.” she said sarcastically. “But we can eat anyhow. I am rather famished.” So Inkie took some of the bread out of her saddlebags and made grass sandwiches; Octavia claimed she couldn’t cook worth two bits. “It’s not cooking.” Inkie replied as she picked some of the greenest grass under a tree. “Yes, it is. And who’s your boss?” Octavia replied, leaning against the tree. So Inkie made the sandwiches. The day wore by slowly while on the road, and even Inkie got bored around six o’clock. She was glad that she had bought blankets, because Octavia said they would have to sleep on the ground. Inkie, as she was wrapped up in her blanket, looked up at the stars. They were very bright; she realized that she had never really had a chance to just look at them before. She was usually either too busy with the rocks or too tired to do anything but sleep. Not to mention it was usually too cloudy at her house at night anyway. “Hey... Octavia?” Inkie asked. “Hmm?” “We’re really going to get to the Gala, right?” She heard Octavia turn onto her side a few feet away. “With your help, I think so.” Inkie sighed. “Good.” Chapter ThreeCHAPTER THREE Inkie groaned as she woke up, and wondered if there was possibly some way to keep dew from forming on herself as she slept. Her blanket was soaked, so she crawled out of it grumpily and laid it on the ground to dry. “Ah, you’re up.” Octavia said from behind her. “I’ve been waiting forever.” Inkie rolled her eyes. “Oh. I’m sorry.” Octavia continued. “Whatever. I’ve had lots of time to think while you’ve been snoring away.” “Thinking about what?” Octavia paused. Inkie turned around to face her. “Well?” The warm gray pony shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” Inkie shrugged. “Okay. Should I make some breakfast?” Octavia nodded. “Yeah, do that.” Inkie turned back to the other pony. “You’re not very nice, are you?” Octavia shrugged. “Hey, I’m your boss. It’s my job to be tough on you the first couple of weeks. I need to see if you’re good material.” “...Of course.” Inkie made some more sandwiches and handed one to Octavia, who chewed it thoughtfully. “Ya’ know.” she said after swallowing a bite. “We might actually be able to make it in the world.” “I though we established this last night.” Inkie said, staring down at the sandwich in her hooves. “Yes, but now I’ve officially established it.” Octavia said firmly. “Okay.” “We’ll make a ton of money at Manehattan.” “Right.” “And yes, I’ll pay you.” “Good.” “And then we’ll go to Cloudsdale- I’ll need some unicorn to put a spell on us so we can walk on clouds- and then... and then the Gala!” “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” Inkie asked incredulously. “Of course not.” Octavia said, brushing her hooves together to clear them of crumbs. “If you aim high, then even if you fall a little short, you’re still up there.” Inkie played with a piece of grass. “I always went with ‘Set low standards, then if you hit higher you’re better off than you were.’” Octavia laughed for the first time. “Well, I guess that works, at least.” Inkie grinned. “Yeah, all I ever though I would end up doing is working at a rock farm, and look at me now!” Octavia froze. “Did you say... rock farm?” Inkie nodded. “Yeah, I lived there with my sisters. Why?” Octavia shook her head and gave a fake smile. “Oh, no reason. I just... didn’t know there was such thing as a rock farm.” “Where did you think rocks came from?” Inkie asked in surprise. Octavia shrugged. “I just thought they- you know- were.” “Oh.” Inkie said, this making a startling amount of sense. She had never actually seen rocks growing- in fact, they never seemed to change shape or size. Oh well, maybe they just grew very slowly. Octavia stretched. “Well, shall we be going?” she asked, gazing down at the long road. Inkie nodded, stuffed the last piece of her sandwich in her mouth, stuffed her blanket into her saddlebags, and stood. “How much longer until Manehattan?” the cool gray mare asked Octavia. The cellist shrugged. “Oh, we’ll probably get there tonight.” she answered. “I think we’ll have enough money for a cheap room in a hotel, then maybe we can perform in a few places... we’ll need business cards....” “Business cards?” Inkie exclaimed with a jolt. “We’re dirt poor, will just maybe have enough money for a single hotel room in the worst part of the city, are living off grass sandwiches, and you’re concerned about business cards?!” “Well, we need some way to promote ourselves.” Octavia replied indignantly as they plodded down the road. “I hardly think business cards is the way to go about ‘promoting ourselves’.” Inkie said with a roll of her eyes. “Whatever.” Octavia mumbled. “Later, I’ll have those business cards.” They walked on for about a mile in silence before the warm gray mare spoke up. “What about your family, Inkie?” Octavia asked. Inkie froze for a heartbeat and her eyes grew wide at the question. She should have known Octavia would ask someday; that she was caught off guard was, to her, a little bit surprising; but, wanting to please her boss, she cleared her throat and lurched back into step. “Well, um, they’re just... normal people. My dad’s strict and works a lot, my mom’s strict and is mad at my dad for being a workaholic, and my sister pesters me to no end.” Octavia gave a small chuckle under her breath. “So, is your sister younger than you, or what?” Inkie nodded. “Yeah, she’s younger... I mean, we’re triplets- Blinkie, Pinkie, and I- but she was born last.” Octavia raised her eyebrows. “Oh, so you have two sisters?” Inkie pricked her ears; why was Octavia so interested in her sisters? She shook the question away and answered the question. “Yeah, Pinkie just went off to live with the Cakes’- I guess you don’t know who they are.” Octavia shook her head. “No, I don’t- oh, wait, do they run that cute little bakery down in the center of Ponyville?” Inkie nodded, surprised that Octavia would know of such a place. “And what, Inkie, was your sister’s talent, that she went to work at a bakery?” Inkie rolled her eyes. More sister talk. “Well, her talent was parties, but seeing how sweet food is so often served at said gatherings, the talent of cooking was thrown in.” “Excellent. And your other sister?” “Blinkie? Her talent is singing.” Octavia stopped short. “Singing, eh? You should’ve told me that earlier, then maybe I could’ve hired her, too.” Inkie sped up, instantly glad that her boss hadn’t asked her about her family earlier. She did not- did NOT- want to have Blinkie following her around everywhere. Oh, great Celestia, if that nuisance were here- “You’re getting left behind, Octi.” Inkie called back to the warm gray mare. The cellist huffed and quickly caught up. “Why are you so interested in my sisters, anyway?” Inkie asked, unknowingly letting her voice drifting into accusation. Octavia rolled her eyes. “Keep your mane on. It was just a question.” “A lot of questions.” Octavia flashed Inkie a disapproving look that made the younger mare want to melt- a look so full of bored contempt, that so clearly spoke ‘I’m too good to partake in this petty arguement’- that Inkie didn’t press the subject. “Lunch.” Octavia said a few hours later, knocking her hoof against the ground for emphasis. Inkie, recovered from the other mare’s ‘death stare’ and wondering why she had actually fallen under it’s spell, just nodded and made the sandwiched, deciding that they might as well eat the fruit before I went bad in the hot summer weather. She was just taking the apple out of her saddlebag when she looked up and happened to see a small cloud of dust coming up from far along the road. It grew bigger and bigger, until Inkie realized it was some sort of cart being pulled quickly along the road. The cool gray mare looked at her boss to see if anything was to be done and saw Octavia’s eyes shining. A second later, the gray mare was bouncing up and down, yelling out to the cart to stop. Looking at her boss now, Inkie just stood with a dumbfounded expression on her face. Yeah, she would never be able to take the death stare seriously again. Slowly but surely, the cart stopped; it was being pulled by four muscular stallions, all with an equally grateful look on their faces; Inkie calculated in her mind they had been running since, maybe, nine in the morning; well, no they had been walking since six, and she was only slightly winded, so maybe more like nine-thirty- The mare was pulled out of her thoughts when she noticed Octavia standing with her front hooves on the edge of the seat of whoever it was inside the cart. Inkie slapped her face with her front hoof. “Hello, good sir, you seem like the sophisticated type. You like classical music, yes? Maybe you’d like some music with your lunch? I see your stallions are quite tired. Why don’t you give them a breather, mm? It’s a beautiful day. Why don’t you come out here on the grass and eat your lunch to some nice music. Won’t that be lovely? Yes, that’s the spirit.” A few seconds later, a grumpy looking stallion emerged from the cart. His light brown mane contrasted nicely with his pale blue coat, and, altogether, he looked rather well-to-do. The stallion sighed and took a basket out of the cart with him; probably his lunch. “Well, let’s have it.” he said almost grumpily as he plopped himself down on the ground. Octavia nodded and quickly unfastened her cello case; in a minute or so, she had set it upright and was aligning the bow to the strings. Inkie’s heart stirred as the slow, melodic note trickled off the cello. The warm gray cellist began a quick, cheery melody, which for some reason reminded Inkie of birds and peaches. The cool gray mare sat back on her haunches to listen. The song went on for about an hour as the stallion ate. Inkie guessed that Octavia must have made it up on the spot, seeing how it was so long. But finally he was done and had packed up. The warm gray cellist stood, waiting, until the stallion gave her ten bits. “I certainly hope that’s sufficient.” he said as he stepped into his cart. “Good luck in whatever it is you’re doing.” The ponies pulling the carriage snorted and pulled off in a puff of dust. Octavia shook her mane and tossed the bits to a surprised Inkie. She tumbled backwards, tripped on some trees roots, and caught the bits in her hooves. “Ow.” she mumbled, rubbing her back. “You okay?” Octavia asked as she held out a hoof to help Inkie up. “Yeah.” Inkie grumbled in reply as she took the mare’s hoof. Octavia dropped the cool gray’s hoof, and Inkie plopped back down. “I guess you won’t be needing any help then. Good. Pack up, Inkie. We’re almost at Manehattan.” The younger mare sat up and narrowed her eyes in an unamused fashion. “Yeah. Okay.” she said, trying to make her voice so obviously miffed that Octavis would notice. Octavia looked up. “What? You told me you were fine.” “That doesn’t mean-,” Inkie slapped her face with her hoof. “Whatever.” she finished. “Let’s- just get a move on.” “That’s the spirit.” the cellist said with a smile as she hoisted her cello case unto her back. Inkie just shook her head and the corner of her mouth twitched up in an exasperated smile as she followed the mare down the road.
Chapter OneCHAPTER ONE Pinkamena was crying. Well, not crying, really. More just sniffling and giving watery smiles as her family gave her hugs goodbye. To tell the truth, though, Inkie envied her. She, along with her parents and other sister, Blinkie, watched as Pinkie started down the long road alone. The road to Ponyville. The road to a real life. Long after the rest of her family had dispersed with teary eyes to work or recreate, Inkie, a cold, bluish-gray earth pony with a darker mane and violet eyes, continued to gaze out over the dirt road. It was only a few months since Pinkie had earned her cutie mark, but the days had brightened up considerably since then. More time for play. Parties. Interesting food that Pinkie had invented. Their mother had noticed that Pinkie seemed to have a talent for cooking, and therefor had signed her up for apprenticeship to the Cake family. She would live there from now on. Inkie looked sadly at her own cutie mark. She had been the last one in her family to get it, and it was pathetic, at least in her mind. Numbers and letters. Of all the talents in the world, she had to have math and writing. Well, the world can always use another college professor, she thought bitterly, and wandered outside. It was sunny, the sky smeared with stale, sickly clouds. Crows cawed angrily at each other as they fought over the half-dead trees between the gray fields. She sighed longingly and wished she was the one going to live in town, not the one to stay here minding the rocks and listening to the birds. She walked, uncaring, through the fields and to the shady woods; she still had an hour before dinner. The gray pony climbed over slippery, mossy rocks as a few gnats swam in dizzy circles around her head. She breathed in the moist air as she progressed into the darkness dappled with sunlight. She travelled until she got to a small, bubbling brook, so alive, so different from the rock farm in all it’s deadness. The bluish pony crawled onto a rock and sat there, hunched up, as she gazed dejectedly at her rippling reflection in the water. It looked like she felt. Cold. Broken into different rippling sections spread over the water. I don't want to be here anymore, she though loathingly. I should leave. Get a real life. Never even been into town. Inkie knocked a piece of moss into the brook and watched it sail away, bob sadly up and down, and sink. And why shouldn't I go into town? The idea flew into her head in a mad rush, like a chicken with a fox after it. She was almost a mare now; she had every right to take a simple trip into town, and she was sure she could take of herself. She had her cutie mark, and it was about time that she put it to use in the world. Inkie stood up and looked into her reflection. Maybe she would go into town; not now, of course, but later. Tomorrow. She would get up, get all her work done early, and leave for the day. Pleased with her idea, Inky stood up and began her treck back through the woods. She was just in time for dinner, which was some sort of... soup, it looked like. Or maybe overboiled pasta. Inkie couldn't tell, and didn't really want any, but she sat down next to her sister, Blinkie, a dull blue earth pony with a silvery mane and gold eyes. “Looks delicious, eh, Inkie?” Blinkie whispered to her with a smirk. “What, did you make this?” Inkie mumbled back, poking at the unappetizing meal with a fork. She was really going to miss Pinkamena. “Don't just poke at it,” her mother reprimanded sternly. “I worked hard on this,” Blinkie almost spit out her food with a squack-like laugh, and their mother whipped around to face her. “Blinkamena! We do NOT laugh with food in our mouths!” Blinkie gave a small smile and swallowed. Yeah, Inkie couldn't wait to leave. Dinner was... exciting, to say the least. Blinkie almost choked on her food three times, their mother got angry halfway through because their father couldn't even try to come in on time, and Inkie accidentally jabbed her sister with a fork. Eventually, Inkie just got up and left the table. She didn't pay any attention to her mother yelling at her to 'get back here, young lady'. Nor did she pay any attention to Blinky shouting 'oooh, you're gonna get it!'. She didn't listen to anyone; she didn’t need to. She realized then that she had made up her mind a long time ago what she was going to do with her life. Heck, forget about waiting for tomorrow. It was a beautiful summer night out. As she strode purposefully down the road, a small smirk spread over her face. In all it’s lights and freedom, town would be beautiful. Inkie continued to walk down the road, feeling less and less like this was a good idea. It wasn’t like she minded the dark; she had worked long hours into the night before; and anyway, the dark was comforting to her. She liked it, the calm and quiet without the monotonous hammering of metal on rock to listen to, no complaining of her sister, no cawing of crows. Just the wind in the trees, the chirping of crickets. It was just that- well, what would happen when she got home? Maybe if she went back now, she could get away without too much embarrassment. There was no one on the road, and Inkie didn't know wether to be scared somepony else would pass her, or that she would be all alone on the long walk to town; she shook her head and bit her lip to keep the static in her mind from engulfing her. Focus, Inkie. We're just going to town. You're not scared of other ponies, are you? Well, yes, she was. She was never the 'social butterfly' like Pinkie; neither was she the 'funny girl' like Blinkie. She was the sulker, the one who liked being alone and not talking to anyone. Why she couldn't meet anypony's eyes, why she couldn't voluntarily speak to anypony outside her family, she didn't know. She just couldn't. She noticed the lights of the town up ahead, and for a moment she panicked and considered running home. Then she checked herself, told herself she couldn't go home now, and lifted her head high. She would look respectable in town if it killed her. She was at the edge of town almost before she knew it. The windows were lit up, and there was a cafe or so scattered around that were still open and oozed a delicious smell of fresh-baked food; Inkie would have bought a late-night snack if she had money. She made a mental note to bring some money next time, and remembered; there might not even be a next time. She couldn't think of that, though; she had to continue. As she went deeper and deeper into the town, the ponies outside grew in number; they seemed to be going in all one direction. Her curiosity getting the best of her, Inkie followed. There were a few lamps hung up on polls next to the street, casting a soft yellow glow on everypony's coat. Everypony was watching something breathlessly, silent and still. Inkie made her way through the crowd to see what they were all looking at. They were gathered in a circle about ten feet across, leaving the pony in the middle with some room. She was standing upright with her eyes closed and was playing some sort of instrument. Then she opened one eyes halfway, and she could have been a mirror image of Inkie herself. She was a warm gray with a long, darker mane that fell over her shoulder and ended in a slight twist. Her tail was in the same style, and she had purple eyes that were somewhat narrow, and, Inkie thought, quite sophisticated and beautiful looking. The instrument she played looked like a violin except it was much bigger and the round end rested on the ground, with the long part held in the pony's hoof. The music she played was beautiful, with long, low notes that carried themselves through the crowds. Inkie had never heard anything so beautiful, so she was content just to stand and listen. It seemed only moments until the mare had seemingly finished. The song ended with a long, fluid note, then she stood motionless. It was amazing how she could make one wither under her violet gaze. One by one, then in groups, everypony disspersed. Except for Inkie. The mare, apparently not seeing Inkie, bent over and started putting her instrument away in a long, black case. Inkie was, for the first time, thankful for her dusky gray coat that hid her among the shadows. Inkie wanted to hear the mare play more of that music. Wanted to watch her perform. She was amazing. For a moment, Inkie wondered why such a talented mare was performing in a small town in the middle of the night, but she pushed the though away; she should be thankful. But what did it matter? She would probably never get to see her play her music again. But... wait a second.... She wanted to leave her home and find a job elsewhere, right? And, more than anything, she wanted to hear this pony's music. What if she could do both? Maybe this pony needed some help with... whatever it was she did. Could she be a secretary or something? Well, it wouldn't hurt to ask. Except for the actual asking part, that is. She gulped at the prospect of walking up to this sophisticated mare and asking if she could work for her; most likely the answer would be no, anyhow. The mare was just about done packing up and was clipping the case shut. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, Inkie pulled herself out of the shadows and walked up to the mare. “Can I help you?” the pony asked, looking up. “I was- um- wondering if... I could work for you.” Inkie tripped over the words. The mare stood up with the bag. “I'm sorry, but I don't really have money to pay somepony to work for me. If you didn't noticed, I'm playing on the street.” Inkie was shocked momentarily that such a talented mare was poor, but sucked it up quickly, and her mind raced for something to say. “I don't want to be paid.” she said quickly. I just want to her you play your music.” The mare raised one eyebrow. “You really think I'm good?” she asked. Inkie wanted to scream that yes, she was extremely good, but kept herself together. “Yes. And... I want to help you become well-known. I want everyone to hear your music.” The mare seemed thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “You'll promise to help me get my goal?” she asked. “What's your goal?” Inkie asked. “I want to get to the Gala.” the mare said with a wistful breath. “To play on the stage at the greatest party in Equestria... that has always been my dream.” “I promise.” Inkie said, and she meant it. “Alright.” the pony said, snapping the case shut and holding out a hoof. “I'm Octavia.” Inkie took it. “I'm Inkie.” “So, Inkie.” Octavia said. “What can you do?” Inkie could feel herself blushing. “Well... I, uh... I can write and do math in my head quickly.” she said awkwardly. “Great.” Octavia said, picking up the bag. “You'll take care of the profits, spending, advertising and whatnot.” The mare paused. “Don't you have a home or anything?” Oh. Right. That. “Um....” Inkie tried to think of an explanation, but couldn't think of anything. “I ran away.” she said finally. Octavia shrugged. “Well, that's as good a reason as any.” she replied. “Meet me here tomorrow morning. I have a small show over in Manehattan, and I like to be early.” Before Inkie could reply, Octavia has disappeared into the shadows.
Chapter TwoCHAPTER TWO Inkie was left alone on the dark streets, illuminated only faintly by flickering and failing lamp posts. It was oddly quiet, and she suddenly wanted to get out of there. She subconsciously began heading home, then she realized that if she went home, she wouldn't ever be allowed to leave again. She'd never work up the courage, and she’d be trapped on that sad little rock farm forever. Where will I stay? she wondered. She couldn't stay wherever Pinkie was; she didn't know where the bakery was, and anyway, Pinkie had just moved in. It wouldn't be fair to expect the Cakes to have to feed and house her also, if only for the night. After wandering the streets, Inkie found an alleyway that was dark and shadowed. It was the best place that she was going to find, and seeing how it was warm outside anyway, Inkie curled up into a ball and fell asleep. The sky was just fading into gray when Inkie awoke. Her coat was wet with dew, and it made her feel very sleepy and stupid. Pale stars still spangled the sky, and the pastel silver of a moon was just visible. Inkie's stomach growled, and she remembered that she hadn't eaten any of her dinner the night before, and she wondered how long she would have to go before she got any food. She briefly wondered how she would get any money to actually buy food if Octavia wasn't going to pay her, but she was too groggy to focus on it for very long. She sat up and smoothed out her mane, wishing she had a hairbrush, and cautiously made her way out of the alley. No pony was up this early, and for this the gray earth pony was thankful. Inkie stretched once more and trotted off to the place she had met Octavia the night before. The street lights were just turning off when she saw the gray mare, who was looking up at the gray sky and wearing an annoyed look on her face. My, she really does like to get up early, Inkie thought uncomfortably. “There you are.” Octavia said as she crossed her front hooves. “I've been waiting for an hour.” “Don't you ever sleep?” Inkie asked. “Not much.” Octavia admitted. “At least not at night. I have insomnia.” “Oh.” Inkie replied lamely, shuffling her hooves. Octavia flipped her mane. “Well, anyway.” she began as she picked up her cello case. “I say we do some shopping for food and other necessities- yes, I do have some money, I'm not that poor- and we can start for Manehattan. It's quite a bit busier there, and I hope to make some more money.” Without saying another word, Octavia whipped around and started walking away. Inkie had to almost run to keep up with the mare’s long strides. She would've asked where they were going if she hadn't been so out of breath, but when she looked up, her eyes widened in amazement at what she saw. It was something she had never seen before; an outdoor marketplace. Already some early ponies were setting up stands that had all kinds of things; fruits, vegetables, fresh bread, baked goods, beads, cloth, hoof-sewn saddle bags- anything anypony could ever want. Octavia put down her cello case and opened it. She took out a small bag and tossed it to Inkie. “You're in charge of the money now.” Octavia said, closing the case again. “Buy us some food and anything else we may need. It'll be a couple days to Manehattan, so make sure to prepare for that. I'll be waiting over there.” The gray mare waved in the general direction of a bench. “I expect you back in an hour.” “O-okay.” Inkie stammered. Octavia nodded and walked off. Inkie looked at the contents in the bag. It was filled with bits, and she though it would be just enough for them to get by, as long as they made some money in Manehattan as Octavia had promised. She started with purchasing food, mostly bread so they could make grass sandwiches on the way, then on to fruits and vegetables. She decided on buying herself some cheap saddle bags; she thought them necessary if she was going to have to carry all the supplies. After an hour of nervous haggling, the cool gray mare walked back to Octavia. “Hmm... what?” Octavia asked sleepily, apparently waking up from a nap. “Oh. Inkie. Good, you got everything.” The warm gray mare stood up and stretched. “Are you ready?” she asked. “Um....” Inkie said uncertainly. She should probably send her family a letter or something to let them know where she was. They would be terribly worried- No! she thought. Let them wait. Next time they saw her, she’d be working for the most famous and renowned pony in all of Equestria. “Yeah, I’m ready.” Inkie said, nodding her head jerkily in determination. The road was long and dusty and boring. Fortunately, Inkie was good at dealing with boredom. Octavia, however, was not. “I’m sick of this dusty old road.” Octavia snapped about two hours into the trip. “Usually I’m quite patient, but not in the face of all this nothing!” “You just have to look at stuff inside of your head.” Inkie yawned. “Nonsense.” Octavia said with a shake of her mane. “I say we just try to move faster. Pick up your pace, Inkie. If we go two times faster, we’ll arrive twice as fast.” At that, the warm gray mare started a brisk trot that Inkie almost had to run to keep up with. The cool gray mare cursed Octavia’s long legs and huffed along beside her. An hour passed, and finally Inkie said “Can we please just stop? I’m hungry and tired.” Octavia stopped abruptly and turned to her with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “You sound like a foal.” she whinnied. “I am NOT a foal!” Inkie almost yelled. She hated it when ponies called her that; it wasn’t her fault that she was little small. Even Blinkie, who was younger than her, would call her a foal, just because her cutie mark had come later. And what a cutie mark it is! Inkie though dismally. At least it got her a job. Octavia rolled her eyes. “Of course not.” she said sarcastically. “But we can eat anyhow. I am rather famished.” So Inkie took some of the bread out of her saddlebags and made grass sandwiches; Octavia claimed she couldn’t cook worth two bits. “It’s not cooking.” Inkie replied as she picked some of the greenest grass under a tree. “Yes, it is. And who’s your boss?” Octavia replied, leaning against the tree. So Inkie made the sandwiches. The day wore by slowly while on the road, and even Inkie got bored around six o’clock. She was glad that she had bought blankets, because Octavia said they would have to sleep on the ground. Inkie, as she was wrapped up in her blanket, looked up at the stars. They were very bright; she realized that she had never really had a chance to just look at them before. She was usually either too busy with the rocks or too tired to do anything but sleep. Not to mention it was usually too cloudy at her house at night anyway. “Hey... Octavia?” Inkie asked. “Hmm?” “We’re really going to get to the Gala, right?” She heard Octavia turn onto her side a few feet away. “With your help, I think so.” Inkie sighed. “Good.”
Chapter ThreeCHAPTER THREE Inkie groaned as she woke up, and wondered if there was possibly some way to keep dew from forming on herself as she slept. Her blanket was soaked, so she crawled out of it grumpily and laid it on the ground to dry. “Ah, you’re up.” Octavia said from behind her. “I’ve been waiting forever.” Inkie rolled her eyes. “Oh. I’m sorry.” Octavia continued. “Whatever. I’ve had lots of time to think while you’ve been snoring away.” “Thinking about what?” Octavia paused. Inkie turned around to face her. “Well?” The warm gray pony shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” Inkie shrugged. “Okay. Should I make some breakfast?” Octavia nodded. “Yeah, do that.” Inkie turned back to the other pony. “You’re not very nice, are you?” Octavia shrugged. “Hey, I’m your boss. It’s my job to be tough on you the first couple of weeks. I need to see if you’re good material.” “...Of course.” Inkie made some more sandwiches and handed one to Octavia, who chewed it thoughtfully. “Ya’ know.” she said after swallowing a bite. “We might actually be able to make it in the world.” “I though we established this last night.” Inkie said, staring down at the sandwich in her hooves. “Yes, but now I’ve officially established it.” Octavia said firmly. “Okay.” “We’ll make a ton of money at Manehattan.” “Right.” “And yes, I’ll pay you.” “Good.” “And then we’ll go to Cloudsdale- I’ll need some unicorn to put a spell on us so we can walk on clouds- and then... and then the Gala!” “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” Inkie asked incredulously. “Of course not.” Octavia said, brushing her hooves together to clear them of crumbs. “If you aim high, then even if you fall a little short, you’re still up there.” Inkie played with a piece of grass. “I always went with ‘Set low standards, then if you hit higher you’re better off than you were.’” Octavia laughed for the first time. “Well, I guess that works, at least.” Inkie grinned. “Yeah, all I ever though I would end up doing is working at a rock farm, and look at me now!” Octavia froze. “Did you say... rock farm?” Inkie nodded. “Yeah, I lived there with my sisters. Why?” Octavia shook her head and gave a fake smile. “Oh, no reason. I just... didn’t know there was such thing as a rock farm.” “Where did you think rocks came from?” Inkie asked in surprise. Octavia shrugged. “I just thought they- you know- were.” “Oh.” Inkie said, this making a startling amount of sense. She had never actually seen rocks growing- in fact, they never seemed to change shape or size. Oh well, maybe they just grew very slowly. Octavia stretched. “Well, shall we be going?” she asked, gazing down at the long road. Inkie nodded, stuffed the last piece of her sandwich in her mouth, stuffed her blanket into her saddlebags, and stood. “How much longer until Manehattan?” the cool gray mare asked Octavia. The cellist shrugged. “Oh, we’ll probably get there tonight.” she answered. “I think we’ll have enough money for a cheap room in a hotel, then maybe we can perform in a few places... we’ll need business cards....” “Business cards?” Inkie exclaimed with a jolt. “We’re dirt poor, will just maybe have enough money for a single hotel room in the worst part of the city, are living off grass sandwiches, and you’re concerned about business cards?!” “Well, we need some way to promote ourselves.” Octavia replied indignantly as they plodded down the road. “I hardly think business cards is the way to go about ‘promoting ourselves’.” Inkie said with a roll of her eyes. “Whatever.” Octavia mumbled. “Later, I’ll have those business cards.” They walked on for about a mile in silence before the warm gray mare spoke up. “What about your family, Inkie?” Octavia asked. Inkie froze for a heartbeat and her eyes grew wide at the question. She should have known Octavia would ask someday; that she was caught off guard was, to her, a little bit surprising; but, wanting to please her boss, she cleared her throat and lurched back into step. “Well, um, they’re just... normal people. My dad’s strict and works a lot, my mom’s strict and is mad at my dad for being a workaholic, and my sister pesters me to no end.” Octavia gave a small chuckle under her breath. “So, is your sister younger than you, or what?” Inkie nodded. “Yeah, she’s younger... I mean, we’re triplets- Blinkie, Pinkie, and I- but she was born last.” Octavia raised her eyebrows. “Oh, so you have two sisters?” Inkie pricked her ears; why was Octavia so interested in her sisters? She shook the question away and answered the question. “Yeah, Pinkie just went off to live with the Cakes’- I guess you don’t know who they are.” Octavia shook her head. “No, I don’t- oh, wait, do they run that cute little bakery down in the center of Ponyville?” Inkie nodded, surprised that Octavia would know of such a place. “And what, Inkie, was your sister’s talent, that she went to work at a bakery?” Inkie rolled her eyes. More sister talk. “Well, her talent was parties, but seeing how sweet food is so often served at said gatherings, the talent of cooking was thrown in.” “Excellent. And your other sister?” “Blinkie? Her talent is singing.” Octavia stopped short. “Singing, eh? You should’ve told me that earlier, then maybe I could’ve hired her, too.” Inkie sped up, instantly glad that her boss hadn’t asked her about her family earlier. She did not- did NOT- want to have Blinkie following her around everywhere. Oh, great Celestia, if that nuisance were here- “You’re getting left behind, Octi.” Inkie called back to the warm gray mare. The cellist huffed and quickly caught up. “Why are you so interested in my sisters, anyway?” Inkie asked, unknowingly letting her voice drifting into accusation. Octavia rolled her eyes. “Keep your mane on. It was just a question.” “A lot of questions.” Octavia flashed Inkie a disapproving look that made the younger mare want to melt- a look so full of bored contempt, that so clearly spoke ‘I’m too good to partake in this petty arguement’- that Inkie didn’t press the subject. “Lunch.” Octavia said a few hours later, knocking her hoof against the ground for emphasis. Inkie, recovered from the other mare’s ‘death stare’ and wondering why she had actually fallen under it’s spell, just nodded and made the sandwiched, deciding that they might as well eat the fruit before I went bad in the hot summer weather. She was just taking the apple out of her saddlebag when she looked up and happened to see a small cloud of dust coming up from far along the road. It grew bigger and bigger, until Inkie realized it was some sort of cart being pulled quickly along the road. The cool gray mare looked at her boss to see if anything was to be done and saw Octavia’s eyes shining. A second later, the gray mare was bouncing up and down, yelling out to the cart to stop. Looking at her boss now, Inkie just stood with a dumbfounded expression on her face. Yeah, she would never be able to take the death stare seriously again. Slowly but surely, the cart stopped; it was being pulled by four muscular stallions, all with an equally grateful look on their faces; Inkie calculated in her mind they had been running since, maybe, nine in the morning; well, no they had been walking since six, and she was only slightly winded, so maybe more like nine-thirty- The mare was pulled out of her thoughts when she noticed Octavia standing with her front hooves on the edge of the seat of whoever it was inside the cart. Inkie slapped her face with her front hoof. “Hello, good sir, you seem like the sophisticated type. You like classical music, yes? Maybe you’d like some music with your lunch? I see your stallions are quite tired. Why don’t you give them a breather, mm? It’s a beautiful day. Why don’t you come out here on the grass and eat your lunch to some nice music. Won’t that be lovely? Yes, that’s the spirit.” A few seconds later, a grumpy looking stallion emerged from the cart. His light brown mane contrasted nicely with his pale blue coat, and, altogether, he looked rather well-to-do. The stallion sighed and took a basket out of the cart with him; probably his lunch. “Well, let’s have it.” he said almost grumpily as he plopped himself down on the ground. Octavia nodded and quickly unfastened her cello case; in a minute or so, she had set it upright and was aligning the bow to the strings. Inkie’s heart stirred as the slow, melodic note trickled off the cello. The warm gray cellist began a quick, cheery melody, which for some reason reminded Inkie of birds and peaches. The cool gray mare sat back on her haunches to listen. The song went on for about an hour as the stallion ate. Inkie guessed that Octavia must have made it up on the spot, seeing how it was so long. But finally he was done and had packed up. The warm gray cellist stood, waiting, until the stallion gave her ten bits. “I certainly hope that’s sufficient.” he said as he stepped into his cart. “Good luck in whatever it is you’re doing.” The ponies pulling the carriage snorted and pulled off in a puff of dust. Octavia shook her mane and tossed the bits to a surprised Inkie. She tumbled backwards, tripped on some trees roots, and caught the bits in her hooves. “Ow.” she mumbled, rubbing her back. “You okay?” Octavia asked as she held out a hoof to help Inkie up. “Yeah.” Inkie grumbled in reply as she took the mare’s hoof. Octavia dropped the cool gray’s hoof, and Inkie plopped back down. “I guess you won’t be needing any help then. Good. Pack up, Inkie. We’re almost at Manehattan.” The younger mare sat up and narrowed her eyes in an unamused fashion. “Yeah. Okay.” she said, trying to make her voice so obviously miffed that Octavis would notice. Octavia looked up. “What? You told me you were fine.” “That doesn’t mean-,” Inkie slapped her face with her hoof. “Whatever.” she finished. “Let’s- just get a move on.” “That’s the spirit.” the cellist said with a smile as she hoisted her cello case unto her back. Inkie just shook her head and the corner of her mouth twitched up in an exasperated smile as she followed the mare down the road.
