"Pardon?" the pony in a rock asked in a coy voice.
"Please, tell me how to do magic" Clockchime repeated, laying emphasis on the word please.
"Oh, so now you trust me?"
"What?"
"I don't think I want to share my secrets with somepony who believes that I, of all ponies, would ever dream of hurting anypony else."
"I could drop you in a well, you know," Clockchime flatly replied.
"...like I was saying, I'd love to share my secrets with such a nice, caring pony."
"I thought so." Clockchime sat down in front of the bench and dug around until she produced a short pencil and a sheaf of paper. Pencil in mouth, she began to draw. She sketched quickly, looking down every once and a while to study the wings. Finally she spat the pencil onto the bench and checked her work: a complete diagram of the wings lay in front of her.
"I'm impressed that you were able to remember all of that," the rock said, a touch of genuine awe in its voice.
"Well, I'm not called the best mechanic this side of Equestria for nothing," she replied indignantly, folding up the specs. "Wait, how did you see what I was doing?"
"How am I talking to you?" the rock answered.
"Good point."
"Now then, to make a horn is a bit less difficult. However, it can end up being much harder to use, just as certain unicorns have a proficiency, or lack thereof, with magic."
"Okay, so what will I need?"
The stone began listing items as it had before. Clockchime scrambled around the shop, digging up bits and pieces until everything was gathered on the workbench.
"Next, a cylindrical sapphire approximately 10 centimeters long and 4 centimeters in diameter"
Clockchime dove into the jewel pile, tossing aside several oblong sapphires before realizing that she didn't have one of the size needed.
"Horse feathers," she cursed, weaving her way back to the bench. "Hey rocky, I don't have that kind of sapphire at the moment."
"The sapphire is the base of the horn and is completely necessary for its construction. Ah, and don't call me rocky!"
"Relax, I know where I can get one, but it's too late today. I'll have to get it tomorrow." Clockchime glanced back to where the wings lay, considering a quick flight before the sun set, but thought better of flying in the dark. Covering them with a sheet of burlap, she yawned and started toward the stairs.
"Don't break anything, you!" she shouted to the rock.
"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied with a drawn-out chuckle.
Clockchime yawned again and followed the stairs up to her rooms, then to the kitchen for dinner. The rock waited for a few hours, until it was sure she had gone to sleep. Satisfied, it lit up with a radiant light and began levitating pieces of clockwork to itself, assembling his new toy.
Clockchime woke to Vinyl Scratch's latest near-deafening track on her alarm clock. She waited for a while, letting the sound wash over her, making sure she was fully conscious before turning it off. She trudged into the bathroom and out again in record time, looking almost exactly as she had when she entered, and after a quick breakfast of porridge she went down into the workshop.
The supplies for the charm were still laid out on the bench as she had left them. Clockchime walked to it and looked it over. She glanced at the annoying pebble and turned back to the shop. She scooped up her smock and goggles, pulling the smock over her mane she made her way to the center of the room. There was a rattling sound as the roof slid open, letting in more light and showing Skyshade's silhouette as she flitted gently to the ground.
"Morning, Skyshade."
"Good morning, Clockchime. Want to go out for a flight?"
"Maybe after I finish today's work."
Skyshade looked a little put out, but quickly recovered. "Okay, later then," she said confidently, trotting off towards the front room. Clockchime looked after her, shrugged and finished buckling into her apron. She turned her head to where the wings lay.
"Later," she muttered, imagining again the amazing feeling of being in the air, deaf to the world. She shook her head clear and tried to focus on the tasks ahead.
The front door swung open behind her as Skyshade returned, mail in hoof.
"So what is it today?" Clockchime questioned, turning and springing over a pile and into the front room. Skyshade answered by flinging a single letter through the air, which landed neatly at her hooves. Clockchime leaned down and read the order before picking it up gingerly with her teeth.
"Only Derpy's place today," Skyshade explained, placing her own hoof full of letters into her saddle bag.
Clockchime nodded, wondering what Derpy had managed to demolish today.
She deposited her own parchment into a pocket on her smock just as the door opened again, allowing Emberglade inside. He glanced at the pair before slipping past them and into his nest at the desk, where he started levitating books and quills.
"See ya later, Clockchime," Skyshade called as she took a few steps and took off through the ceiling portal. Clockchime watched her leave and turned to Ember, side stepping the desk and coming to a halt a few feet behind him. "Ummm... Ember, I need 50 bits, please."
He looked up from the tome he had his nose in. "Why, pray tell?"
"I need a jewel from the boutique, for one of the machines."
"You don't have one here?"
"Not the kind I need."
He contemplated it for a second, weighing the options in his head. "Fine," he relented, lighting his horn and levitating the large, hammered metal box that sat under the desk. he concentrated for a second and a stream of whirs and clicks emanated from the box. The top panel levered open with a final click, revealing the shop's finances. Ember brought out a stack of bits, counted them carefully and gingerly deposited them in Clockchime's waiting coin purse.
"Thanks, Ember!"
"Just bring back the change," he replied with a sigh.
"See you later!"
"Don't blow yourself up, alright?"
"You know I'd never do that twice in a month," Clockchime said, suddenly quite serious. She double-checked her belt to make sure she had what she needed, and strode out the door.
All traces of the rain had been purged from the land by Celestia's warm sun, and a light breeze was making the morning quite comfortable. Clockchime gazed at the beauty of the scene for a few seconds before heading down the well-trodden path to the post office.
The doors of the post office were opened wide, and smoke was billowing from the opening. Clockchime paused a second, examining the smoke. It didn't look too dangerous, but she decided to be safe and donned a cloth mask to cover her nose and mouth before she entered.
Mr. Script came trotting from somewhere in the back, parting the haze as he went.
"Oh thank Celestia! Clockchime, you're here. Derpy wanted to try and bake her own muffins, and well..." he let out exasperatedly.
"Don't tell me you let her?"
"She wanted to try so badly... I couldn't just say no."
Clockchime let a sad smile slip across her lips, sighing at the old stallion's sentiment.
"Come on, we should take care of it before the building burns down."
He nodded and led her through the mail room to where the pair lived, smoke thickening as they went farther into the building. The "door" to the kitchen was a wall of solid black.
"So where's Derpy?" Clockchime asked, slipping her goggles down over her eyes.
"I had her go out with today's deliveries."
"Good." Clockchime headed straight into the smoke-encased room. Even with such low visibility, she knew where the stove was, having installed it not a month before. After smashing her shoulder into the table in the center of the room, she managed to find the oven in question. Despite the haze pouring out from the over, she could see the dim glow of the heating element through its open door. Silently cursing to herself, she brought her attention to the top of the stove. She flicked open a panel next to one of its two burners to reveal a glowing mana battery. Clockchime swore a little less silently before shoving aside the mask. Now gagging on the ever-invasive smog, she bent her head toward the mana battery's handle before latching on for all she was worth and swiftly yanking it free.
The magic glow in the battery faded as she carried it back to where Mr. Script waited, but not before stubbing her hoof on the table.
"Mother of a Manticore!" Clockchime screamed, almost dropping the battery. She held the hoof up for a moment, waiting for the intense pain to slowly fade as it always did. She continued on, making her way into the hall, which had already begun to clear. Mr. Script was waiting a little farther down, coughing into his shoulder. When he saw her approaching, he nodded behind himself, toward clean air. She nodded back and they continued into the lobby.
Clockchime deposited her bundle onto a table and flopped onto one of the sofas situated around the room.
"Was there any damage?" Mr. Script asked timidly.
"I couldn't tell with all the smoke, we'll just have to wait until it clears" she replied, making herself comfortable. "Do you mind if I take a nap while I wait?" she asked, regretting having stayed up so late the previous night.
"Oh, of course. I have some work to get to in the back, so you go right ahead."
"Thanks." Clockchime closed her eyes, letting loose her grip on consciousness as blissful sleep took hold.
~ ~ ~
Clockchime was curled up with a book, holed up in her room as she was most days, since her parents' deaths. She'd left their home in Fillydelphia and had to move into her grandfather's machine shop. She didn't care, of course. what did it matter? She was alone now. The only comfort she found was in the books; she could be anywhere, anyone, at the simple flip of the page. A sound broke her concentration, bringing her back to reality. Squealing gears and clanking metal sounded from the shop downstairs. With a sigh, she marked her page, got to her hooves and went for the door. She briskly trod down the stairs and entered the workshop.
The floor had been freshly swept, and the materials were neatly stacked along the walls so that each gem, gear, and sprocket had its place. In the center of it all a large box lay, its insides strewn out in front of it, the noise emanating from its innards. Her grandfather, Cog, appeared from behind it, wrench in mouth, a flummoxed look on his aged brow.
"Confound this blasted machine," he cursed around the tool, before looking up to the stairs and meeting gazes with his granddaughter. "Oh, sorry Chime. Did I disturb you?"
She nodded.
"Well, don't worry. I'm stopping for a while. I need to go get some parts for this darned machine," he said, giving it a swift kick with his hind hoof. "Can you manage on your own for a bit?"
Another nod.
He sighed. "Of course you can."
Trotting toward the door, he gave a final look back before heading out on his way.
Clockchime stared at the noisy box for a while, eventually deciding it to be a threat to her peace. No hero in her books would stand by and let a terrible beast run roughshod over them, and neither would she. Picking up the wrench Cog had discarded moments ago, she edged her way toward the open side of the beast. The gears and cogs formed swirls and patterns; she followed them in their delicate dance, looking for the spot where the swirls broke. There, near the edge of the box, a sprocket was in the wrong slot, knocking the whole assembly out of alignment . She swung the wrench like a sword, knocking it loose, before swiftly pushing it into place with her hoof. The swirls joined and became whole again.
"Haha!" Clockchime exclaimed with triumph, for she had tamed the mighty beast.
Looking around, she found the switch that would give it life, and gave it a flip. The defeated monster let out a sedated hum, the gears spun and blew cool air back at her. It was working, but she still saw a slight kink in the swirl, a few of the gears that had been ground down from strain. They would need to be fixed as well. Clockchime brandished her weapon and set to work.
Cog briskly trotted back toward home, starting to worry about little Chime. She was sad and lonely more often than not nowadays, and he didn't want to leave her alone any more then he had to. He hurried along, finally turning toward his shop and making his way in. Just as he did so, he heard fevered hoof steps coming toward him.
"Grandpa, grandpa! I fixed it!"
He stared dumbstruck at her. She was smiling wide... Smiling!
"Oh, did you now? Lets see it then," he responded, still amazed. She lead him by the hoof through the front shop and to the workshop.
He set his bag down and trotted over to the machine to examine it closely.
It certainly looked right, all the pieces aligned in the proper order. He looked back at Chime, who was still smiling and staring at him expectantly. Turning back to the machine, he looked around for the switch. Finding it, and flipping it, he watched as the machine gave off a calm hum for a second, before making a loud bang as several gears came loose from their moorings. Cog quickly turned it off and turned back to chime.
It... Broke. I failed, were the only thoughts to run through Chime's head. The hero had been beaten by the monster. She hung her head low and felt the sadness take her again, washing away any ideas of triumph.
"Hehehe...hahahahah."
She looked up, Is he...chuckling? But I failed, she thought, gazing at her grandfather.
"Pretty good, for a first shot," he said meeting hers eyes, which had begun to tear up. "You forgot to fit a countersink in the gears. Without it they'd just pop off."
Clockchime wiped her eyes and looked back at it, realizing her mistake.
He came over to her and took her in a warm embrace. She immediately grew stiff from his sudden contact.
"To merely be able to make it work for a second is an extraordinary feat. I couldn't do it. But you did," he comforted her, rubbing her back with a hoof as she gradually relaxed.
"You just need to give it another go, and eventually you'll get it."
She thought for a moment. Yes, he was right. She would never give up, never let the monsters beat her. She would fight with all she had, and defeat them. She stopped crying and looked back at him, nodding to tell him she was feeling better. He let her go and she steadied herself. As she did, Cog got a look of surprise on his face and began chuckling again.
"What?" She pleaded for an answer.
"Look," he replied simply and pointed toward her flank. Clockchime turned her head swiftly and was greeted by the sight of something amazing: her cutie mark.
A golden key with a gear-shaped handle was now emblazoned where it had once been blank. She sharply gasped, and let out a cheer.
"Grandpa?"
"Yes?"
"Will you show me what I did wrong?"
He gave her a smile and replied, "Of course I will."
~ ~ ~
The dream faded as Clockchime returned to the present.
"Oh good, I was just about to wake you. The smoke has cleared."
"How long was I out?" she asked groggily.
"Oh, a couple hours."
She got to her hooves, and stretched her back in the manner of a cat. The smoke had indeed dispersed and the air was clean again. Clockchime turned toward the now clear hallway and made her way to the kitchen. After cursing at the table, she turned to examine the oven. Besides the large mass of charred muffin, there didn't seem to be any problems with the machinery. She backed away from it and made to leave, but not before bashing her hooves into a table leg.
Back in the lobby, she strode out just as Derpy flew into the door, carrying an empty mailbag.
"Clocky!" she exclaimed as she caught sight of Clockchime
"Hello, Derpy. I was just fixing your oven."
"Really? That's great! I can try and make muffins again!" Mr. Script suddenly looked afraid.
"Oh, and Derpy, why did you use so much batter?" Clockchime asked.
"Well, I was thinking, what's better than one muffin? Two muffins, and what's better than that?"
"Four?"
"No, silly, that doesn't make sense. The answer was a giant muffin!"
Clockchime sighed. "We'll next time use only as much as your supposed to, we wouldn't want to waste muffins"
Derpy got a serious look on her face. "Oh no, never waste muffins!" she exclaimed.
Clockchime laughed and trotted over to Mr. Script. "It just needs to be cleaned," she reported.
"How much do I owe?"
"Ehhhh, five bits."
He went off to his office and returned with the glittering coins. "Here you are." He gave a stack of coins to her. She counted them out and stuffed them in a pocket. Remembering what else she had to do today, she thanked him and made her way to the door. As she was about to leave, Derpy called to her.
"Hey Clocky!"
"Yes?"
"Cloud Chaser was looking for you"
"Why?"
"She wanted to see your wings. A lot of ponies do."
"Ummm, well, I'll go see her later," she responded before closing the door behind her. Ponies are asking about them? That can't be good, she thought to herself while walking toward the northern side of town. She continued debating why ponies would be talking about the wings, beside the obvious reason of a non-flying pony, flying.
She was about a block from the boutique when her thoughts were interrupted by an odd whispering from a dark alley.
"Always an alley," she muttered to herself, sneaking closer to listen in.
"When are we's is going to gets to the whiny pony?" one voice rasped.
"I told you, stupid, we's is gonna nab her now during day." That one was probably the leader.
"Can we's do it soon? I wants the pretty gem stones." This other voice was deeper then the others.
"Ya, let's attack now!" the first shouted.
"Fine, let's go."
The trio came into light close to where Clockchime was crouching. Diamond dogs, of course, she thought as she readied herself to confront them.
Just before they entered the street she revealed herself, jumping out in front of them.
"What exactly do you three think you're doing?" she asked them, quickly summing them up. The first voice was a stupid but tough-looking dog. The deep-voiced one was rather large, even for a dog, and the leader was an average dog with slobbering chops.
The big one started, "We's is going to kid nap—"
"Sheeeeeeesh," the leader stopped him.
"We's is going to go meet with the white sparkly pony," he finished.
"Sure you are," Clockchime replied. "Well, I'm a friend of the white sparkly pony and I don't think she wants your company."
The leader thought for a moment. "Then we take smart talking orange pony as well. Always need more work ponies. Get her!"
He stepped back and his cronies lunged forward. Clockchime sidestepped their first attack and turned behind them, bucking out with her hind hooves and sending them sprawling. She charged the leader, but he was quicker then she'd expected. He backhanded her across the face, dazing her for a moment, just long enough for the big dog to regain his footing. He charged her and she went low, kicking for the stomach. Her hit landed, but it earned her a solid hit on her back that knocked the wind from her lungs and drove her to her knees. The dogs were just about to descend upon her when they all suddenly stopped and began clutching their heads.
"The noise! Retreat! Retreat!" the leader yelled.
What noise? Clockchime got back to her hooves and looked around. The dogs were fleeing back down the alley. She watched them run, before turning toward the outlet. There she could see the black silhouette of a pony clutching a whistle in her mouth.
"That's right! Run, you ruffians!" she hollered after them.