Privileged

Most clockmakers relied upon their magic to work the finer gears and mechanisms of the clock. They used their innate telekinetic abilities to construct the delicate devices.

This clockmaker, however, was an earth pony. He didn't have the advantages or social standing given to others at birth. Nopony could deny, however, that he made the finest clockwork in the whole district, perhaps the finest in all of Canterlot. The nobility would fight, cheat, and bribe to advance their placement on the ever-growing list of hoofmade commissions that Cold Hoof kept in his desk at home.

His fame came with many questions and a lot of attention. He had overheard many of the rumors the city held about him:

How he makes designs like these with only his hooves, I will never understand

Maybe he’s actually a unicorn who uses enchantments to hide his horn andgarner extra fame. I mean, we all know earth ponies aren’t capable of delicate labor, right?

I heard that he has mages secretlyworking for him.

Including a few of the wilder rumors as well:

I heard that he has mages tiedup in his basement, forced to work for him!

Is it true that he is actually an adolescent griffon in a pony costume?

Cold Hoof found the rumors amusing at times. The truth was that he was simply a good clockmaker, with a few precision tools that he had developed himself specifically for earth pony use. Unlike others, Cold Hoof had to work day and night to earn the skills and reputation that he now possessed. He liked to believe that the adversity he had faced played a key component in the design and production of his clocks, making them different from anything you would find elsewhere.

Today was a special day for Cold Hoof, or rather, a special day for his adoptive daughter, May Lily. Today was her seventh birthday, and Cold Hoof couldn't wait to get home to her and celebrate it. She was kept secret, of course; earth ponies weren't allowed to have unicorn children in their custody. Penalties for the crime of child abduction and earth pony parenthood of a unicorn or pegasus child could range from death by guillotine to death by firing squad, neither of which was particularly high on Cold Hoof’s list of priorities.

Cold Hoof shook his head to rid himself of the grim thoughts. He had to look lively. there was only one more scheduled appointment for the day, and Lord Hackett didn't appreciate slouching. Humming a tune softly, he took to busying himself with another design while waiting for Lord Hackett.

Just as he was engrossed in fitting a cog into place, he heard the tinkle of the shop’s bell. When Cold Hoof looked up, he saw the easily recognizable shape of a large white unicorn, a cutie mark depicting a golden scale depicted upon his flank.

Cold Hoof had dealt with Lord Hackett often and held a great deal of respect for his patron as a result. Despite being a prominent figure within the peacekeepers, Hackett often came off as open minded and mild in judgment, the very opposite of his colleagues. Adding further to Lord Hackett’s importance for Cold Hoof was the fact that he was one of the only non-earth ponies that Cold Hoof had met, who had never done verbal or physical harm to him.

Though he rarely spoke of his job, Cold Hoof got the distinct feeling that Hackett was the only reason that High Overseer Ruby Shard hadn't replaced every punishment in The Book of Law with execution or banishment. Hackett was, in a sense, the perfect balance for Ruby Shard’s ruthless dedication to justice.

“It’s good to see you, Lord Hackett,” Cold Hoof said with a smile. “I have your design out back, would you like to pick it up today, or do you come with a different affair in mind?”

“Just the watch, please,” Hackett said, bearing a neutral expression.

“It will only be a moment, feel free to browse my stock.” Cold Hoof laid his tools aside, and turned to enter the workshop where he created his custom works.

The room was darkened with curtains and held a great number of precision tools and unfinished projects. Cold Hoof quickly picked out the fine ivory pocket watch that was Lord Hackett’s commission. It had taken well over a week’s worth of work, but the result was well worth it; the watch itself had been engraved with the symbol of the peacemakers, a royal alicorn, wings spread wide and with rays spreading from its horn. The engraving, hoof-painted with black paint, served to remind anypony that might look upon it of the Lord’s standing within the community.

When Cold Hoof returned from the workshop, he found Hackett staring at a grandfather clock with a very sad, almost strained expression on his face.

“I've got your watch sir,” Cold Hoof said tentatively.

“What? Oh yes, of course!” he exclaimed, shaken from his reverie. “I am afraid I haven’t been in my right state of mind lately; let me have a look at it.”

“Is this a personal matter bothering you sir?” Cold Hoof asked, while handing him the watch.

Lord Hackett didn't answer at first but took instead to looking at the item in question. After looking it over a few times and finding no apparent things to remark upon, he gave a heavy sigh.

“Business matter, I am forbidden to indulge any information about it,” he stated, a frown crossing his face. “Least of all to somepony such as yourself, I am sure you understand.”

Cold Hoof did understand. Canterlot was in pieces; Frequent earth pony uprisings all over the country had led to the application of martial law. Canterlot and Cloudsdale were the last “true” unicorn and pegasus settlements. They held the Equestrian Guard and Equestrian Air Force, respectively. If not for the respect that Cold Hoof carried with the nobility, he might have already been outcast from the city; the city peacekeepers had made this point very clear ever since about three years prior when the first uprisings had begun.

Bearing this in mind, it was no surprise to Cold Hoof that the captain chose to keep state affairs from him. It did sting a little though. As an earth pony he was completely forbidden access to information from the outside world, and was forced to carry an identification document with him at all times. He had family outside the walls of the city, and a personal interest in the struggle as well, being denied information always left him with a bad taste in his mouth.

Cold Hoof felt for the cause of racial equality, but he also knew that there was no way the nobility would give up its seat in power. The easiest way for him to survive was to stay right where he was; racial equality or not, life as a clockmaker suited him.

“Of course. I understand sir. would you like an explanation of the watch’s operations?” Cold Hoof replied with a

Once Lord Hackett left, Coldhoof closed down the shop, rushing through procedures as fast as he could. When he was satisfied with how it looked, he donned a thick wool jacket, locked the door and headed towards his home district.

It was raining in Canterlot, not enough to soak through his coat, but Cold Hoof felt a distinct chill when he stepped out from under the shop’s awning. He shivered a little; overhead, contingents of pegasus guards were gliding through the sky, apparently unfazed by the chilly weather.

Cold Hoof always felt out of his element on the streets. He didn't like the attention he received from the other races. In fact, one of the main reasons he even wore a coat was that the thick material covered the areas where pegasi would normally have their wings folded, making the ponies he passed assume he was a pegasus. The coat was his cover, his mask; leaving his home without it made him feel… naked. Perhaps it was weird to lay such trust in a coat. The few times that he had left home without it, whether intentionally or not though, had never ended well.

It was a sad thing indeed to see a unicorn guard, one whose face had been stretched in smile from pleasant conversation, recoil and gasp, when he noticed that under the coat was absolutely nothing. This scene, and many more like it were etched in Cold Hoofs mind as constant reminders of the dangers that followed when he forgot his coat.

It was with relief that Cold Hoof reached his apartment, hurrying through the door to escape the scrutinizing eyes of the city streets as well as the rain. He sighed, hanging his head. He let the sound of droplets, dripping from his mane to the floor, distract him for a moment.

“Dad! I missed you so much!” He turned his head towards the voice, only to be tackled by a high speed fuzzy object by the name of May Lily and pinned to the door as it nuzzled into his chest.

“You smell like rain,” she said with a giggle.

Cold Hoof felt the frown he had subconsciously adopted while walking through the streets give way for a grin as he picked her up and gave her a squeeze.

“Has Mrs. Branch been treating you alright?” he asked as he set her down and took off his jacket.

“Oh yes,” she replied enthusiastically, “we ate cake, and made drawings, and read stories, and sang birthday songs, but you weren't here for the birthday songs.” She frowned a little at this last statement.

“I know Lily, and I’m terribly sorry about that, but I had to work today. I think I have a way of making it up to you though.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her head tilting slightly.

“It’s a surprise, we can talk about it in a second; right now, I need to go pay Mrs. Branch.”

Cold Hoof walked into the living room, seeing Olive Branch, an elderly, olive colored earth pony mare sitting in his reading chair next to a small fireplace. Apparently, she had overheard their entire conversation.

She had just set a children’s book aside on the table next to the chair when she spoke in a raspy voice: “I sure hope this something you have planned is good, Cold Hoof, she’s been talking about how much she wished you were here all day.”

Cold Hoof felt a twinge of guilt. he hated leaving Lily alone, even if she were in capable hands.

“Thanks for watching her, Olive; I really don’t know what I would do without you.” Cold Hoof smiled gratefully. “I hope she hasn't been too much of a bother”

Olive Branch chuckled with amusement. “This little angel? Never.”

Cold Hoof could remember a time not too long ago when she was eating wallpaper and stealing food from the elderly lady. It was an unfortunate habit she had from living in malnutrition for too long. Coldhoof held his tongue about those incidents however.

“Was it fifteen bits we agreed upon?” Cold Hoof reached for his wallet, retrieving the sum in question.

“Yes, and don’t worry, dear, I’ll show myself out.” The elderly lady took the money from his hoof and walked towards the door.

Before she could get very far though, Cold Hoof stopped her, holding out his hoof. “This… really means a lot to me, Olive, I hope you know that.” He smiled a little, all too conscious of the signs of stress evident in his face: the bags under his eyes, his matted mane and unkept coat. “You know, with all the work I've had to do lately… Well, if it wasn't for you May Lily would have no one, and the stars know, she doesn't have a whole—.”

Olive Branch silenced him by knocking him lightly in the back of the head. “You just make sure that surprise is something special Cold, I’m sure you’ll both be fine.” She gave him a pat on the shoulder and left for the door.

May Lily, who had been silent so far, gave a snort of indignation. “Of course we’ll be fine! Right, dad?”

Cold Hoof looked contemplatively at the door, some water still dripping from his mane, though a little less than before.

“Of course, Lil’.” He looked down at her and smiled. “We’ll be safe.”