Prologue: Seeing Grey

I couldn't see what was going on. I didn't know the severity and urgency of the situation among he hysteria of existing, somewhat, somewhere, as a piece of life, and a part of the world. I couldn't see what was going on while my soul was locked inside the disconnected shell of a physical entity that would not cooperate, and become under my command.

I couldn't hear their screams reverberating across the wall, landing among eardrums that were mine, but never quite making it through. The sounds sat in my ear canal, unmovable, unwavering. Simply sitting there, mocking me, for they were so close, but I wasn't allowed to hear them.

I couldn't smell the heat in the air that melted into my cold, lifeless shoulders, warming my body, but not the soul inside it, as I was frozen with utter fear of the unknown. For the first rays of light never reflected off my eye lights, the first breath of air filling my lungs and soul with their first taste what what life was, and would always be. I never received the feeling. Instead I lied consumed in darkness, in a box of utter emptiness. Just waiting. Waiting to experience, waiting to live, waiting to love. Waiting for it all, with the cruel cameo of life standing on a pedestal, dangling the beauties and dangers it would bring me in front of my soul, red with the color of envy. Blue with the color of sadness. Gold with the color of ambition and longing, and green with the sickening feeling of never knowing the flavors that life brings, that ponies savor in the rays of the light that I hadn't lived to know. I was a rainbow of emotions and aspirations situated in the smallest of souls, but life never made room for me to squeeze through the cracks, and simply be. It locked me in a cage of nothingness, that emoted only a dull grey that nullified all that I had to offer.

But I could feel it.

Their frigid breath crawling up my spine and into the black confinement my soul waited in. Their metal horseshoes scarring my soul more so than my body, as they seemed to bang along the glass walls of my cage, as if I were an exhibit. Their fears and mine met in the middle, intertwining, and somehow me and another individual just knew we were both there, clawing to each other. I could feel her firm grasp on the other end, as if she were trying to pull me out of this prison, and show me the bright horizon outside the unnerving plutonian sky that pierced its charcoal rays into my transluscent chest. When I could feel all other movement fall silent, I knew she was still holding on. Never giving up on me. How badly I wanted to reach out to her, to embrace her with the strength that rested, untapped, inside my heart. But I never lived to see the day. I wasn't yet alive at all.

Lost in myself, I was blinded by all of the darkness to witness the first ray of life reverberate upon my eyelids. I did not witness to sounds flood my eardrums with the thickness of honey, the words translating into sudden thoughts and visions. I did not witness the hand leave mine, receding backwards, leaving visibility. In my mind, the hand was still there, holding on, and I refused to let go. To except loosing the one thing I had ever received. My first taste of love, gone in mere seconds.

But then it hit me like concrete.

I was alive.

I was breathing.

I was but nothing more.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Lumina Charter slept apprehensively, comprehending what was to come, what she had left behind, and, most significantly, where she was now. With an untouched universe of foreign figures and landscapes inviting her to explore, the new frontier captivated her, the prominent image of the sun raining its rays down, providing a sensation thought of as unimaginable. The rays transformed into hooves that appeared to pull her towards the attractive items of nature outside the hospital window.

Outside this room, however, this newfound relief that had overcome her was a ridiculous conception, and the fear, if not already predictable, had certainly not subdued. Because the pony the physicians had just operated on sat unintimidated in a light fixed room, somehow alive when just previously she wasn't living. Among the whispers of rumorous chatter and the sense of urgency in each screech of a wheel, a revolutionary conversation would unfold in the middle of the hospital ward, muffled by the sounds of silence painted upon every lip.

But there was one mare whom was unable to have her emotions confined by the iron fist of misfortune, as it was her who was punched with the most force. Metal spikes attached to the fist and indented her heart, causing her composure to leak onto the floor. Her tears were like leeches; when she tried to get rid of them, they only struck back, stronger and purer than before. She waited with anxiety clogging her throat, unable to breathe as a victim of such unfortunate circumstance. Expecting the worst, her mourns echoed the solemn hopes of each member in the hospital. Her eyes, though, still glimmered the slightest possibility of happiness, a world where all the disaster would disappear, and leave her without the trauma of knowing that life wasn't fair.

In time the doctor encountered the woman, the illusion of knowledge showing all over his coat, evidently existing under his attempt to behave neutral. With caution, but certain direction, he sliced the silence of the entire building in half. "Mrs. Charter," he began, addressing her with a fair sense of tone, " I'm pleased to tell you that Lumina is alive, fully and undebatably. It's miraculous, but we managed to find a way to preserve her life for a lengthy period of time though our advanced magical technology."

A smile crept onto the mare's face, illuminating brighter than a firefly in the midst of all the darkness. A linear progression of thank yous escaped her mouth, strengthening and revealing more sincerity with each recitation. The sun shined the little brighter, the white of the walls a little whiter, and everything felt at ease for the first time in so long.

"But there's a problem."

And at those four words, blackness swallowed all that was light, and Mrs. Charter's eyes were devoured by darkness, her pupils shrinking, and caving into the back of her skull. She did not want to hear neither see what would come next, but it was inevitable. The words reached into the very walls of her bone and demanded her pupil's attention.

"Nothing like this has ever happened before, if you are searching for an explanation to our unprofessionalism," he admitted with humility, " so I apologize for our behavior, as well as for the disarming news I am about to explain. And believe me, it will take some explanation. There's no definition for this situation."

Mrs. Charter took a well deserved moment to swallow her tears and her fears, before reflecting a response back to the authoritative pony before her. " Wh.... what's wrong?" she questioned, in complete denial of hearing an answer.

"Every pony in Equestria's survival depends on the color around them. In their fur, in their mane, and in their cutie mark. All of it is a representation of the magic that gives them the capabilities of a pony race, and allows them to exist altogether. However, for some reason, what has happened is that Lumina's soul, which contains the color and magic that makes a pony, is at a disconnect with her physical self, and the color is not taking the form of her body. As a result, she cannot physically live. She cannot gain a cutie mark, nor grow the genetic attributes of a race, because her body does not contain any signs of the magic required to do so. It is all locked away. "

She was having a hard time swallowing her final fear with a bitter taste of questions turning sour in her stomach. "Then how has she lived?" escaped her mouth like a reflex, the question everyone had been itching to ask.

"Come see for yourself," what all that was said, escorting her to the Southern Ward.

In the Southernmost room of the entire hospital, the adults stared at the young pony, mesmerized by the miracle of life before them. What they eyed was the cold, grayness of her first fur coat, and the opaque, glossy stare of two beady orbs glaring back, compelled by the new addition to the room. Seemingly lifeless, but with emotions that seemed so full of life. An immediate connection formulated upon the expression of Mrs. Charter. She had a damp face, saturated with tears of combating happiness and sadness. But upon seeing her foal, the beauty in her simplicity, and the color in her colorless eyes, it was clear that happiness had won the battle, regardless of the circumstance.

Upon the neck of Lumina, there lounged a weightless gold chain adorned with diamonds, and in the middle, a gemstone rested unlike any other. Colors danced in swarming circles, and jetted in uncontrollable patterns across the surface of the crystal. All eyes, even the objects in the room, seemed to be transfixed on the glittery interior, that bursted out into a million sapphire specks inside the minimalistic space, possessing so much activity.

Next to her, the doctor began to speak. "This necklace," he proclaimed, "Is no ordinary item of jewelry. The gemstone it centers around began the day with a transparent, shadeless glow. Her soul has filled in this empty space with the colors that waited inside it. In the presence of the necklace, Lumina's soul makes a compromise with her body. Though she'll never gain access to her cutie mark, colors, or destined race, she is at least given the gift of life- something she started the day without. She is not disabled- perhaps at a disadvantage in life, though. Many opportunities have been robbed of her. But everypony has a purpose in life. She'll find hers, I'm sure."

Or it will find her.

Author's Note:

First thing I've written in a while, but an idea that I hope to continue. Hope you like the Prologue!

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