Violet Eyes

by ShadestepWarrior

Chapter One

CHAPTER 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.

Comments

[Relevant Heavy Metal]

Concerto - Cacophony

[Krass McWriter]

This is awesome.

[WanderingPhysicist]

Very interesting. I look forward to seeing where it goes.

[aquilerafroot]

Interesting! Faved and liked.