• Published 3rd May 2013
  • 12,926 Views, 946 Comments

The Dusk Guard Saga: Rise - Viking ZX



Steel Song is a lot of things. Earth pony. Uncle. Professional bodyguard. Retired. So when he receives a mysterious package from Princess Luna, he's understandably apprehensive. Things are never as they seem in Equestria...

  • ...
23
 946
 12,926

Assembly - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Clockwork sighed in relief as the cabin door slid shut behind him, separating him somewhat from the raucous noise of the passenger compartment. “Celestia’s sun ...” he muttered to himself, shaking his head and massaging his throbbing temple. Four fillies, three colts, one pet dog that hadn’t stopped barking since the trip started, and the two parents were sleeping through it all.

Clockwork was a porter for the Equestrian Railway Service, a job he had aspired to ever since he had been a young colt and seen one of the first steam engines demonstrated at a Summer Sun Celebration. He’d been fascinated by the way the mechanical contraption had moved slowly around the heavy wooden tracks, belching clouds of superheated steam as it circled. The way the pistons had moved, pushing the machine forward with every hiss of superheated vapor—he’d been fascinated by it, and from the moment the first locomotive had been announced a few years later, he’d known that he would work on one.

Of course, he hadn’t ever expected to put up with this lot. He turned away from the particularly loud car he’d been stationed in for the last three hours and pulled the door to the next car open. Thank the heavens for mandatory breaks, or he would’ve gone out of his mind hours earlier. While the pegasus family had been kind enough to book the whole car, the only ponies in the group that he could see having been at all affected by what appeared to be a vacation to Baltimare were the parents. The moment they’d dropped off to sleep, the seven siblings had proceeded to make enough noise that Clockwork suspected that Luna herself would have heard it from the moon, had she still been there.

“Rough night?” another porter quietly asked as he saw Clockwork approaching.

Clockwork nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got a family of pegasi in my car tonight. The parents may be tired from the trip, but the kids sure aren’t.”

Sunstrider grimaced and gave a quiet whistle. “Tough luck. I wish I could say I was with you on that one but ...” The soft yellow unicorn waved one hoof at the quiet car behind him. “Everypony here’s been out since the sun went down and I turned down the cabin lights.”

“I’ll manage,” Clockwork said, still rubbing his head with one hoof. “I’m going to take my break early and get a breath of fresh air out back.”

“Alright,” Sunstrider said, a soft blue glow surrounding a newspaper sitting nearby. “Say ‘hi’ to Rachet for me.” Clockwork nodded, moving past the young unicorn and down the aisle, stepping lightly on the car’s plush carpet. Here and there the occasional bench was lit overhead by a soft light, some because their occupants had failed to shut off the small light before falling asleep, but in a few cases because the occupant in question was still awake. Clockwork nodded to one earth pony mare who smiled at him as he passed, a book open in her hooves.

When he reached the rear door he slid it open with a single hoof, trying to keep the noise he made to a minimum. There was some ambient bleed-through as he passed into the connecting vestibule between cars, the sound of the train tracks clicking away underneath the cars, the faint rattling of the connecting tunnel between the two cars, but nothing—he hoped—that would wake any but the lightest sleepers. The door slid shut with a soft click behind him and he was left alone in the tunnel.

He missed the older models of train cars, the ones where a pony had to step outside in-between each car, nothing but a railing separating a pony from the scenery flying by beside the train. Of course, it had come with drawbacks. If it was raining he would have had to put on a poncho to travel from car to car in order to keep his conductor's uniform from getting wet. Ponies with longer manes had been forced to constantly restyle between passings, and the gust of wind that roared through a car if someone opened the front door, particularly on a curve...

The tunnels are nice, he admitted to himself as he popped his pocketwatch out of his vest with one hoof and carefully nosed the hair-trigger switch, flipping the thin metal lid open. Still, he thought as he looked at the time—1:35 AM on the dot. Getting a breath of fresh air on my break used to be a lot easier. He snapped the watch shut with a sharp click.

Clockwork slid the next door open with much less care. The last three cars were cargo cars; there was no one to wake up or disturb here. He made his way down the narrow aisle that had been left between the cargo, occasionally moving left or right as the path did, making room for some container that hadn’t quite fit like the rest. The rows of wooden crates stretched nearly to the ceiling, piled three high in some places and blocking out most of the light from above, giving everything a slight shadow. Bags of mail from the Equestrian postal service sat piled near the rear end of the carriage, letters from Baltimare to all ends of Equestria.

Clockwork rolled aside a bag of mail that had fallen out of place, blocking the rear door, and made his way through the vestibule into the second of the cargo cars. This one was much more open, since the majority of the items in this car were specialty items rather than the more generalized contents of the last car. Most of them were still boxed of course, but several items were simply wrapped in parcel paper with address written across them. A couple of boxes had been stacked in one corner next to a few wooden crates, but the car was relatively clear and he made his way across it in a straight line.

The third cargo car was almost completely empty, a rare sight on the Equestrian Rail line, and one that furrowed Clockwork's brow in worry as he made his way through it. One … two … three-four … five crates, he thought, counting each of the wooden boxes as he passed. He felt his brow crease further as he contemplated the implications of the lack of cargo. He’d heard about the thefts of course, everypony that worked for the company likely had by now. There had been a company-wide memo about it again that morning, on the importance of reassuring customers while the situation was dealt with in order to keep loss of business to a minimum. He frowned as he closed the last cargo door behind him. Hopefully it was simply a light night and not a sign that customers were losing faith.

“Hey there, Clockwork,” Rachet said, looking up at him as he entered the train's small caboose. “Early break tonight?”

“Yeah,” Clockwork said with a nod. “Got a bunch of unruly kids up in car nine, I figured I’d get some fresh air. Maybe the little runts will be asleep when I get back.”

The sky-blue earth pony laughed. “How’s Sunstrider doing tonight?”

“About the same as every night,” Clockwork said as he made for the back door. “Reading some paper he’s borrowed from a sleeping passenger. He says ‘hi’ by the way.” He slid the rear door of the caboose open, relishing the sudden chill of wind as it played across his aching head.

“Hi, huh?” Rachet said, his tone gruff. “Well you can tell him he still owes me thirty bits from that poker game last week.”

Clockwork laughed as he stepped out onto the caboose's back deck, shutting the door behind him. Around him dark shapes swept past, illuminated only by the silver glow of a half moon in the sky above as the train powered through the Colthill Mountain Forest. He draped his front hooves over the rear rail, relishing the feel of the night air rushing through his mane and watching as track ties receded off into the distance. He took a deep, slow breath, ears twitching as the scent of the forest pines mixed with the mud-scented steam of the train engine to form a strange bouquet that was as organic as it was machine.

He stood there for a while, his mind nearly empty, relaxing in the view and the chilly—but not cold—wind. Well, not cold to him at least. He’d been a porter for almost thirty years now, and he wasn’t about to be bothered by a nighttime breeze. While most other ponies would have turned back inside after a minute or two, shivering and clutching cloaks tightly to their bodies, Clockwork had spent three decades living with the cutting wind. By now, he considered himself made of sterner stuff.

A new scent came into the air, a faint acrid smell not unlike the forest around them that wrinkled his nose. Woodsmoke. Rachet must have decided to light the small stove in the rear cabin. With a sigh, Clockwork dropped from the rail and pulled his pocket watch out. He’d only been outside for eight minutes, although it had gone by much quicker. Still, he had a job to do, even if it was simple, and if he stayed out any longer he would run the risk of carrying the scent of woodsmoke back in with him on his uniform. He slid the rear door open, moving back into the caboose.

He gave Rachet a nod as he passed, but the pony was dutifully engaged in some aspect of the caboose's small woodstove, and merely returned the nod with a quick glance. Clockwork slid the caboose door shut with a click as he left and began to make his way through the cargo cars once more. As he walked through the rearmost car, something seemed to twitch in the back of his mind, a sort of sixth sense that made him pause. He looked around the car for a moment, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He certainly couldn’t hear any warning clicks or squeals or any of the other warning signs that he would have associated with a problem. He shrugged. Maybe he was just apprehensive about returning to a very noisy car after such silence. He took one last look at the car with its four boxes and moved into the connecting tunnel.

He frowned as he slid to door open to the middle cargo carriage, revealing a darkened interior barely lit by flickering moonlight filtering in through the cargo car’s few narrow side windows. For some reason, somepony had turned the freight car’s lights out.

“Hmph.” Clockwork reached out with one hoof and fumbled for the lightswitch on the wall. There was an audible click over the clatter of the tracks as he flipped the switch left, and then another click as he flipped it back and then left again. He flipped it several more times, sending a rapid-fire staccato of noise through the car. “Wonderful,” he muttered to himself as he clicked the switch for a final time. Now the magilights had gone out. He closed the car door behind him and began to carefully pick his way across the room, stepping lightly as to not accidentally trip over anything important. He hadn’t even been aware that magilights could burn out.

The lack of light made crossing through the cargo car difficult. The packages weren’t exactly stacked, nor were they any standard shape. Worse still, moonlight was flickering through the windows as the train passed through the forest, filtered by the passing trees into even more difficult shadows that seemed to jump and move over the cargo. Or was that the cargo moving? Clockwork let out a nervous chuckle. That would be ridiculous, cargo didn’t move. He took another step forward, carefully lifting his hoof over a long paper wrapped parcel that was laying across his path.

Again the little sense in the back of his head began making itself known, a soft itch that became a rolling shiver that slid down his spine like an icy wind. He paused, rear leg lifted partway over the package. Something was nagging at the edge of his mind. What was it? He set his hoof down slowly on the floor and took another look around the car. The sliding moonlight, blinking on and off like a strobe with each passing tree, made it hard for his eyes to adjust to the dark shadows of the cargo car, but he couldn’t quite see anything out of place. There was the pile of boxes he’d seen earlier. Another blink as the moonlight cut out. There was an odd pile of parcels, some long narrow package laying across it. Another blink. There was—hang on. Clockwork felt his pulse rise as he looked back at the pile of packages he’d just seen. The moon blinked again, and he took another good look at the pile in the flickery moonlight. The long narrow item he’d seen was gone.

Clockwork could feel his heart beating in his chest, a deep thumping sound that echoed in his ears. Come to think of it, he hadn’t had to step over any package before when he’d passed through this car had he? Why now had he just stepped over one? He turned back, looking down at the innocently wrapped paper bundle. The itch inside of his head had spread now, moving down into his gut with an unfamiliar clenching feeling that seemed to be speaking to him. You didn’t step over any package on the way here? the feeling was saying. But you’re stepping over one now. Somepony moved this package. Somepony moved it.

Clockwork tried to swallow, but his throat was dry and rough, like he’d swallowed a mouthful of dust. He let out a nervous cough and took a few careful steps forward. Who had moved the package?

“Is-is someone there?” he called out. His voice sounded far creakier then he remembered it. “Anyone?” Moonlight continued to slip through the car, shadows moving quickly as the faint beams sparked into being and then died, cut off by the trains movement. It almost looked like the cargo was moving with them, rolling, sliding towards him—

Clockwork bit down on the train of thought, silencing it. He was a fully grown stallion, he wasn’t about to let himself be terrified by a few nighttime shadows. He began to take slow, measured steps toward the front of the cargo car, carefully picking his way through the luggage. Had it always been this haphazardly spread across the room? Of course it had! He mentally berated himself as he passed the halfway point of the car. He was simply on edge because of the rough night he’d had. Or maybe it was Sunstrider pulling some prank on him. Yes, that was certainly it, he thought to himself as he stepped over another package that he couldn’t recall stepping over before. The door to the connecting tunnel was closer now. Sunstrider was playing some foalish prank on him. He’d disconnected the magilights, moved the cargo. It wouldn’t have taken that long for the young unicorn to do with his magic—

There was a soft thunk behind him, like the sound a hoof would have made when lightly setting itself on a wooden floor. Clockwork felt his body freeze against his will as the itch in the back of his head grew to a raging scream. He swallowed, again aware of the dryness of his throat. It was just somepony playing a prank, that was all. He wouldn’t run away like a terrified schoolpony. He began to turn, carefully placing one hoof beside the other and mentally cursing the small shakes he noticed in each hoof. He took a final deep breath, and swung his head all the way around to look at the car behind him.

It was just as it looked when he had passed it moments ago, although truth be told it felt like he had been in the car for hours rather than the scarce minute it must have been. The pulsing moonlight continued to slide over the assorted cargo, revealing nothing out of the ordinary. But the roar in the back of his head wouldn’t stop now, a rushing crescendo of fear that was twisting his gut into shapes he’d never dreamed. He took another look around the dimly lit car, determined to silence his fears once and for all. Nothing was out of place, everything was-something moved.

Clockwork let loose a strangled cry as one of the pieces of what he had thought was cargo lifted and almost-scuttled back into the shadows. What it was he couldn’t say, all he could do now was turn and bolt for the door, tripping over his own hooves as that strange noise he’d heard moments earlier, the sound of hooves striking against a wooden floor, began to fill the car. The sound was everywhere, echoing all around him, a dull rattle that reminded him of a sound he hadn’t heard in decades, the dull clicking of bones a skeleton had made when a teacher had shown his class what they had looked like on the inside.

On the inside. His insides were churning as he broke for the door, tripping and stumbling over cargo. He was ten feet from the door, then five feet. He leapt for it, putting every ounce of his terrified body into the leap, only to jerk to a sudden, painful halt as something closed around his tail, holding him fast in the air. His body crashed to the ground, too terrified to scream as he turned to see what held him back. The train car passed into a thick patch of trees as he turned, and the moonlight vanished, everything fading away into darkness. Everything except for the single, massive glowing eye that was staring right at him, it’s cold blue radiance sending chills through the very core of his being.

He’d been wrong, he realized as his mouth opened. He hadn’t been too terrified to scream after all.

Author's Note:

Thanks again to the pre-readers. Without them, I never could have caught some of the things I needed to.