Ticking.
Ticking is the universal sound of the passage of time. Most ponies are too concerned with themselves or their lives to notice these moment by moment reminders that time marches on unless they happen to be at a doctor’s office, or when the teacher is about to call time on their test.
Clockwork was not most ponies. Anytime her ears picked up one of the eighty-six thousand and four hundred ticks that marked every second of every day, she fixated on them. To her, ticking was a constant work companion, a lullaby, and, since her move to Ponyville, a reminder to make every moment count.
Even if that reminder was just another excuse to stuff another muffin or cupcake in her mouth.
It came as no surprise to Clockwork that being inside a clock tower was just about the most relaxing experience she had ever known. Cogs turned dutifully, working with one another as the epitome of teamwork. The large pendulum fixed in the escapement swayed left to right, doing its part in regulating the cosmic ballet. A low rumble resonated throughout the entire structure, a byproduct of the giant timepiece’s eternal task.
Almost perfect. Just one thing left to test.
Clockwork hopped onto the lift and started pulling on its chains. Higher and higher she went until the lift made it to the chiming mechanism.
Time to see if she can still speak.
Her hoof reached over to the striking mechanism and pulled back on the hammer.
“Hey, Clockwork. What are you doing?”
Looking down at the floor, Clockwork saw a now very familiar, and welcoming sight.
“Hi, Twilight!” she shouted, her mechanical voice echoing in the large building. “I was just about to give her a test ring. Wanna stick around?”
A grin spread across Twilight’s muzzle. “Sure! Just gimme a moment!”
Twilight galloped over to a nearby chair and took a seat. “Okay! Ready when you are!”
Clockwork released the catch. The hammer jerked forward and struck the giant bell.
Bong… bong…. bong…
A wrinkle formed across Clockwork’s brow. The slow, ponderous chimes echoed in the tower, each strike causing her shoulders to droop more and more.
“Wow. I suddenly have an overwhelming urge to throw a funeral.”
Pulling the chains to the lift, Clockwork lowered herself back to the ground floor. With a short hop, she jumped off and pointed up to the bell. “What do you think? I think it screams, ‘bring your plague victims out!’ but that’s just me.”
Twilight left her chair and walked over to Clockwork. “Actually, that’s one of the reasons I’m here. I discovered why this tower and the one before it were built.”
“Alright, dish,” Clockwork said, wiping sweat out of her eyes.
Reaching into her saddlebags, Twilight produced a book. A very, very old book if the wear on the cover was any indication. “It says here that this tower was built by order of Celestia in memoriam of the loss of one of Equestria’s great rulers.”
“Surely you don’t mean-”
Twilight nodded. “I do. Princess Luna.”
Tapping a hoof to her chin, Clockwork grunted. “That makes no sense. Why here? Why not in Canterlot?”
Flipping to another page, Twilight showed Clockwork a picture. This one of an old castle.
“Because they didn’t rule in Canterlot at the time. They stayed in the castle of the two sisters… in the Everfree forest.”
“And when the tower started collapsing, she decided to just build this one in its place,” Clockwork reasoned.
Flipping the book closed, Twilight smiled. “That’s the short of it.”
“That answers that. So, what was the other reason you came?”
Reaching into her saddlebags, Twilight pulled out two wrapped sandwiches. “I brought lunch.”
Clockwork’s eyes lit up. “I could kiss you for that! Thanks!”
A blush worked it’s way onto Twilight’s cheeks. “I knew you wouldn’t stop to eat lunch by yourself. I figured eating lunch with me would be a better incentive.”
Clockwork walked over to the lift and hopped on. “C’mon. Let’s eat up there.”
With a nod, Twilight jumped on as well. “Take us up then.”
Sitting on a cross beam high in the tower, Clockwork and Twilight ate their lunch together mostly devoid of conversation apart from the occasional signing. Afterwards, Clockwork sat on her flank, letting her legs dangle off the cross beam freely in the air.
“Doesn’t that scare you?”
Clockwork turned to her companion who chose instead to sit on her haunches. “No? Why would it?”
A crease formed on Twilight’s brow. “It just looks like you could slide off really easily.”
Leaning back on the beam, Clockwork kicked her legs like a little filly. “It’s totally fine. You worry too much.”
“I suppose I do.”
A momentary silence fell between the two ponies, one which was filled by the ambient noise of the clock. Clockwork scooted closer to Twilight and leaned against her side.
“Hey, Clockwork?”
“Hmm?”
“Why do so many ponies call you Clocky?”
Clockwork shrugged. “I dunno. I guess it’s easier to say than Clockwork. Ponies just call you Twilight or Twi, don’t they?”
“Not you. You call me Sparkles. Why Sparkles?”
Reaching around Twilight with a hoof, Clockwork leaned over, resting her head in Twilight’s side. “Because everypony calls you Twilight. I wanted to call you something different. Something that shows you’re special to me. Besides, I can’t exactly call you what I wanted to.”
“And what exactly did you want to call me?” Twilight asked, tilting her head.
“Sparklebutt! Cause you’ve got sparkly stars on your butt!”
Twilight gasped. She turned to the pony using her as a pillow and gave her a smirk. “Sparklebutt? Really? That’s so wrong! How would you like it if I made a name like that about you? Let’s see. Clockwork, Clockwork... “
The pony in question giggled. “Good luck! There’s no word in Equestria that you can use to mess up my name. It’s rock solid.”
“Tch. You’re right. I still can’t believe you wanted to call me Sparklebutt.”
Clockwork smirked at her adversary. “Well… you do have a great butt.”
Shifting awkwardly, Twilight sighed. “No more staring at my butt.”
“What a waste. If I had a butt like yours, I’d stand backwards in a picture frame.”
Burying her muzzle in her hooves, Twilight groaned. “No more talking about my butt, okay?”
“Prude.”
Raising her head, Twilight turned to her companion. Her eyes traveled down Clockwork’s head and to her neck. “Hey, what’s this? I’ve never noticed it until now.”
“What’s what?” Clockwork asked, futilely trying to look at her own neck.
“This bump on your neck,” Twilight said, pushing at a slight bulge. Following her partner’s hoof, Clockwork felt the spot Twilight was talking about.
“Oh, that? Nothing really.” Clockwork explained. “Just some sort of birthmark or mole or something. I’ve had it ever since I could remember.”
“Oh.”
Once again, both ponies fell silent for a time, letting the clock dutifully fill the time with its mechanical whirring and clanking. Clockwork was the first to break the silence.
“Do you think Celestia would be mad if I made some changes to this tower?” Clockwork asked.
“I don’t know. She did have the tower built for a very specific reason,” Twilight pointed out.
“I just… I don’t think it should be so depressing. Not now. Not after being reunited with her sister. I mean, It should be happy, a celebration!”
“I agree, but I just don’t know if Princess Celestia would agree.”
Clockwork rose to her hooves and stepped on the lift.
“Wait, where are you going?” Twilight asked.
Loosening the chain, the lift slowly descended carrying the earth pony with it. “I’m going to go have a chat. Later, Sparkles. Thanks for lunch!”
The mayor, sequestered in her office, leaned back in her executive office chair, still digesting her visitor’s request. Leaning forward, she placed her hooves on the oak desk in front of her and smiled a hesitant smile. “You want to… what now?”
Clockwork leaned forward in her chair. “I want to change the bell. It sounds like a funeral chime. I think it would be better if it sounded… happier.”
Clearing her throat, the mayor leaned back in her chair. “I thought that’s what you said. Listen Clockwork, I appreciate that you got the tower clock fixed two weeks ahead of the vigil, but you must understand. Princess Celestia chose that bell. To simply change it without consulting her would be… well… presumptive.”
“So, tell her I changed it. I doubt she would do anything to me. Besides, now that Luna is back, shouldn’t we be celebrating?”
Mayor Mare looked apprehensive, her eyes avoiding Clockwork’s. “Even if you were to take the blame for the change, there’s the little problem of funding. Not to mention the time it would take to install it.”
“It wouldn’t be a problem,” Clockwork said, leaning on the edge of her seat. “I can make the chime settings now, and once the bells are completed, it would be nothing to just hang the darn things.”
“Yes, but the funding-”
“Take it out of what you were going to pay me,” Clockwork interrupted.
Drawing in a deep breath, the mayor sighed. “You seem very hung up on this. Very well. All I ask is that the chimes be ready when the vigil comes.”
Clockwork jumped from her chair. “Yes! Thank you so much! I’ll get started right away!”
Ring-a-ling!
The familiar ringing of a different bell announced Clockwork’s entrance into Sugarcube Corner. It was mid-day, and it showed by the few ponies lounging in the bakery’s lobby.
Perfect. I don’t need a huge crowd while I try and extract info from the pink one.
Trotting up to the counter, Clockwork saw the very tip of Pinkie’s mane bobbing wildly. Peering over the counter, she saw the pink mare frantically scrubbing at the floor with a mop.
“Hey, Pinkie Pie. What’re you up to?”
Pinkie tossed her mop away and leaned against the counter. “Howdy doodles, Clockwork. Just getting the floor all sparkly and clean! Flour makes a big mess you know. What can I get you? Strawberry crepe? Banana sundae? Wednesday taffy?”
“Oh, no no no, I’m not hungry. I came for a different reason.”
“Really? Well you just say whatcha need and auntie Pinkie Pie will get you all settled up!” Pinkie exclaimed. In a brief moment, she disappeared from behind the counter and reappeared, leaning against Clockwork’s side.
“I, uhhhh, don’t think we’re related. Anyway, I know you’re the party pony around here, so I wanted to know, what exactly happens during the Many Moons Vigil?”
At those words, Pinkie Pie visibly sank, her mane drooping a bit. “Oh. That boring thing.”
“Is it that bad?” Clockwork asked, cocking an eyebrow at the pink pony.
“It’s worse than bad. It’s boring! Every five years, starting at sunset, everypony dresses up in black robes and sits quietly outside the clock tower until midnight. Nopony talks, nopony sings, you just sit there. You don’t even get to eat anything! Madness! What kind of holiday doesn’t allow eating!” Pinkie shouted, grabbing Clockwork by the shoulders.
“I’m… going to take that as a rhetorical question. Listen, I have an idea, but I’ll need your help. This year, I want to make the Many Moons Vigil… different.”
“Different how?” Pinkie a suspiciously.
“Food, costumes, talking… you know, fun!”
Pinkie’s eyes brightened into a sparkling blue. “Whoopee! That doesn’t sound fun, that sounds funneriffic! What do you need me to do?”
Pulling Pinkie to the window, Clockwork’s hooves pointed to the sky. “I want food based on the sun and the moon. Enough to feed the whole town. Can you handle that?”
Giving a stalwart salute, Pinkie’s body went rigid. “Yes, ma’am! Sun and moon food! You got it! Anything else?”
“Hmmmm, one more thing,” Clockwork said, rubbing her chin. “Who takes care of the robes?”
Pinkie giggled and trotted back behind the counter. “Rarity, of course! Rarity makes the best mopey robes of all.”
“Oh, right… fashion designer. I suppose I should’ve known that. Bye, Pinkie!” Clockwork shouted as she ran for the door.
“Raaaarityyyyyyy.”
Clockwork’s voice echoed throughout Carousel Boutique’s expansive showroom.
“Back this way, dear.”
Navigating the maze of clothing racks, Clockwork made her way to the back where Rarity sat upon a stool, scribbling away at what Clockwork assumed were new designs. “Hey, Rarity. I’ve got a favor to ask.”
An excited squeal exited Rarity’s mouth. “You want to try wearing a chapeau?”
“Uhhhh, not exactly. Pinkie said you were in charge of making the robes for the Many Moons Vigil.”
“Uggghhh.” Rarity slumped on her stool. Leaning forward, she rested a hoof upon her cheek. “Those funeral rags are sooo dreadful. I don’t look forward to sewing them this year.”
Sidling up to Rarity, Clockwork smiled. “What if I said you didn’t have to?”
Instantly, Rarity perked up. “Oh? Color moi intrigued.”
“This year, I want you to make outfits based on Princess Luna, and Princess Celestia,”
“Outfits based on the princesses?” Rarity clicked her tongue. “I don’t think I’d have enough time to do that, not to mention the cost of such an endeavo—”
“Outfit isn’t the right word. Think… costume. Maybe even just robes with a simple sun or moon design. Whatever you make, think festival, not funeral.”
Raising her eyebrows, Rarity fixed Clockwork with a glare. “What exactly brought this on?”
“I… I don’t know. I just feel… happy. I think other ponies should be happy. Now that Princess Luna is back, I think the bell tower shouldn’t be a reminder of some old tragedy, it should be… you know… happy.”
“Good enough for me!” Swiping away the paper on her desk, Rarity began scribbling ferociously. “Something that shimmers, something that shines. Something that withstands the test of tiiime—”
Clockwork plugged Rarity’s mouth with her hoof. “No songs until I leave. You can have these done in time for the festival, right?”
Rarity nodded, still silenced by Clockwork’s hoof.
“Excellent. See you later, Rarity.”
~One week later~
“Annnnd that’s all she wrote.”
Stepping back onto her lift, Clockwork inspected the new bell mounts. Numbering four in total, she made them to the exact specifications that the bell maker in Canterlot told her to. The bell maker told her they would be smaller, and have a higher pitched chime to accentuate the enormous bell that already hung in the clock tower. She learned that getting rid of the bell would be more expensive than simply changing the position of the striker which would make the tone lighter, happier, so that’s what she did.
Now all I need are the bells themselves.
A rusty screech from below caught the earth pony’s attention. Peering over the side of the lift, her eyes widened as a purple alicorn wandered inside the clocktower. “Twilight! So good to see you! Please tell me you had a huge mysterious package delivered to you without any warning.”
Twilight nodded. “That about sums it up. I take it you ordered this mysterious package?”
Clockwork lowered the lift until it hit the ground floor. “Yes I did.”
“And why didn’t you just have them delivered to your house?”
Clockwork chuckled. “Are you kidding? It would never have fit in my door. You live in a castle. You know… giant double doors and everything? I knew it’d be fine there until I was ready for it.”
“Right. About the whole not fitting thing.” Twilight turned and pointed through the door at a wagon piled high with equipment and two large D shaped panes of stained glass. “It’s not going to fit through this door either. You have a backup plan?”
Walking over to the corner, Clockwork picked up a large sledgehammer and dragged it to the doorway.
“Uhhhh Clockwork? You okay?”
Hefting the sledgehammer on her shoulder, a faint smile played at the edges of her mask.
“Never better.”
In one devastating swing, Clockwork smashed through the top of the doorway, breaking out an impressive chunk of stone.
“Are you crazy?” Twilight shouted.
“Nope. Just doing some renovating,” Clockwork said, toss the sledgehammer to the side. “Now it’ll fit, and later I’ll put a larger door in. Any other problems you can think of?”
“None that I want you to handle with a sledgehammer,” Twilight said, her mouth hanging open at the gaping hole above the doorway. “You know, I could have probably just teleported them inside.”
“Where’s the fun in that? Let’s pull those in. I’ve only got a day until ponies start lining up for the festival, and I don’t plan on trying to install these bells at the last minute.”
“About that, I know you told the mayor about the bells, but what about the stained glass?
“I used the extra money for the glass,” Clockwork explained. “I had a spotlight at home, so there’s no cost there. Everything’s covered.
Twilight gestured to the wagon. “Okay, fine. You want to do the bells first, or the glass?”
“I’m going to take the bells,” Clockwork said. She picked up a large folded cloth and passed it to Twilight. “You are gonna hang this over the front of the clock face.” Once I’m done with the bells, we will tackle the glass.”
“That’s your way of saying you need my magic, isn’t it?” Twilight asked with a smirk.
Clockwork leaned in and nuzzled Twilight just beneath her neck. “Unless you know some way I can lift close to a thousand pounds of glass without magic, yes. That or you can make me an alicorn.”
“If I did, you’d have to be a princess!” Twilight shouted as she walked out the door with the cloth in her magic aura.
“No, thank you!”