“Clink Clank, Clink Clank.”
It was an odd noise.
“Clink Clank, Clink Clank.”
A mechanical noise.
Off in the hills, unheard by any in the small town nearby, a pony was tinkering with tiny gears and pieces of metal. He was a small pony, but not too small; he was just young, a colt with time left to grow. His coat was dark and blue, and his mane a deep brick-red. He was alone, save for the machine he worked on, and he gave it his utmost attention. He mumbled every so often, and his quiet, unintelligible muttering joined the sounds of clinking metal parts.
“Clink Clank, Clink-”
No Clank? No sound at all.
“No, no, no.” The pony working on the device peered into its inner workings, seeking out the source of the problem. He picked up one copper-colored piece after another until he found what he was looking for. He held up a shiny little piece, nearly symmetrical save for one tiny notch at one end. “Thought you could get away with being put in backward, did ya?” Nopony but he would be able to tell it from the myriad of other parts he was working with, but they didn’t have to. He worked on this machine alone, and he was fine with that. He put the tiny metal piece back where it belonged. Then he started on the rest.
Like a puzzle being built from an image that only this young pony knew, gears and parts were put back in place. Slowly, the pile of parts sitting at the pony’s side shrank, and the device he was working on began to look whole.
With one last click, the last piece snapped into place. The young pony examined his work, running his eyes over every surface and visible bit of machinery. After double and triple checking the device, he gave it a good shake, making sure no parts would come loose. A smile formed on his face when all the tiny parts stayed in place.
He ran his hooves over the semi-circular device. The coppery metal was polished to a shine, and he took great care to keep it that way. It was a thick, heavy device, but he kept it with him wherever he went. Canvas straps jutted out from the sides of the device, waiting to fit around anypony willing to secure the device to their back.
The young pony opened a door on top of the copper disk, revealing the tiny gears and complex machinery within. In the middle of the intricate clockwork, at the very heart of the device, was one long ruby-colored cylinder. It was hollow, forming a tube that ran from the base of the disk to the top. The young pony checked every gear one more time. Then he made sure the ruby tubing was intact and connected properly.
He used a hoof to give the biggest gear a quick turn. He pumped his other hoof in the air when the smaller gears turned in a perfectly synchronized display. The machine passed all of the colt’s tests, now there was only one thing left to do; turn it on.
He closed the door slowly, snapping it into place with a loud click. Then he gently extended a series of golden metal pieces that were tucked into a slot at the center of the device. Fully extended, the pieces looked like feathers. They were attached to a short metal armature that could be rotated outward. This formed a perfect wing that could mimic all motions of a natural one. Some would see it as an ungainly monstrosity; it was heavy, had to be strapped on, and lacked a wing for the left side; but to the colt who held it, it was a piece of art.
He said a silent prayer as he prepared to turn it on. He wanted it to work. He needed it to work. The idea of finishing the device wasn’t an obsession. No, it had surpassed that stage long ago. Fixing this machine was his life. He spent all of his time, his energy, on this device. Everything he had to give, it took. But it would be worth it. He knew it would. This device would fix everything.
One last gulp, one final moment of nervous indecision was all the colt allowed himself before activating the device.
Slowly, the machine began to hum. It started off as a low droning sound but climbed in pitch as the ruby cylinder inside the device began to glow. He set the device down on the grass in front of him as the gears within started to turn. The colt could only stare as the machine grew louder. There was a loud click as something inside the machine engaged. Then, the golden wing extending from the device started to move. It was flapping! Just like a real wing!
He had done it! He had been waiting for this moment forever. At this moment, all of his hopes and dreams lay within his grasp. That wing, that beautiful golden wing was working at full capacity. “Yes!” He jumped up and down, cheering for the mechanical limb. “Yes!”
“SNAP!!”
The colt’s eyes went wide. Something wasn’t right. The gears, once quiet and smooth, were now grinding and buzzing. Every few cycles, there was a loud pop, almost like the snapping of a twig. He lunged forward, braving the swinging metal of the false wing in an effort to deactivate the device before it damaged itself any further. As he struggled to get the door open, the sounds coming from the device shifted. Buzzing turned to scratching and his precious metal wing began to slow down. The door flung open, spewing several gears at the horrified colt. He stared as the wing stopped entirely, and the ruby’s glow flickered and died.
He didn’t move for several moments after that. He didn’t even notice that one of the gears had hit him in the face, scratching his forehead. “You…” His words trailed off; there were none he could say that would fix this. It had been two weeks since his last failure, two long, agonizing weeks. He had gone over the plans, made changes, and scrounged up the needed material, but it still didn’t work. He stood up and stomped around. He felt useless. Every time he found a way to fix the device, it broke again. Why couldn’t the thing just work?!
“Gah!” In his frustration, he gave the machine a swift kick, sending several loose pieces flying off into the grass. “No!” The colt dove after them. Tears welled in his eyes as he frantically scrambled to collect the small parts. “Why can’t I fix you?” He sat in the grass, cradling the pieces he recovered like a mother would cradle her young. “I- I just want to-” He looked at the bent and broken metal in his hooves. The delicate gears that once held his hopes were now twisted beyond any hope of salvage. They were unusable, utterly destroyed.
He stood up, letting the broken gears fall to the ground. He took a few deep breaths as he blinked away his tears. Another failure. Another waste of time. He took a few minutes to scour the area for parts, finding a pitifully small number that was still usable. He placed the undamaged parts in a small pouch before putting the pouch and perpetually broken device into his saddlebags.
He walked away. He didn’t know where he was heading, he just knew that he didn’t want to stay there.
After a short walk, he came across a stream. He set his saddlebags on a patch of open grass and walked over to the stream.
“I had it,” he thought as he plunged his head into the cool water, “I know I had it!” He lifted his head from the stream with a gasp. “I double checked everything.” He walked over and laid down near his saddlebags. He rested his head in his hooves.
“Every little piece was where it belonged, just like dad left it. So why won’t it work?”
The colt rolled over onto his back and looked up at the sky. “I need to find a town.” He didn’t want to, but he had no choice. As much as he preferred to be alone, he needed parts. His stomach let out a growl. He also needed food.
But he was just a colt. If he were to start wandering around town, ponies would start asking questions. In the cities, it was easy to avoid attention because nopony cared; but here, he was far away from any city. He only knew of one town in this area, a small farming community. It was nearby too, easily less than a day’s travel.
“It’ll be the sort of place where ponies care about each other.” A young colt wandering around would draw the wrong type of attention. He didn’t want to be dodging questions about why he wasn’t in school or where his parents were. He rolled over onto his side. Those questions left him on edge. He was always afraid that someday, somepony would see through the lies and set the police after him. To avoid this, he hid. He was good at it too. He could hide anywhere. If he had to hide in an alley or a dumpster, he would. He could even hide in plain sight if he needed to, after all, nopony paid attention to colt standing with a bunch of others in a school lunch-line. But in a small town, everypony knows everypony else. He would stick out like a sore hoof no matter what he did.
His stomach let out another growl. He would have to find food soon, but he couldn’t rush. First, he had to get a good look at the place, make sure it would be safe. That meant he had to wait until nightfall. His stomach let out another growl. He pulled his saddlebag towards him, clutching it to his chest and curling himself around it. He would just have to put up with the hunger.