Shock & Awe
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The Exile

Shock & Awe

Clockwyrkke was born to a average family, in a pioneer colony within the Southern Continent of Equestria. Dad was a contractor while Mum spent her hours in the local Land Office as a senior secretary. The ponies who came to the colony were a mixed bunch from all over the lands. But the majority consisted of those who came from Manehattan, ponies who had left the metropolis in search of a better, less competitive life. Hence, the town's constant bustling and business-like atmosphere. Ponies were cold and uncaring and everything was about profit. In his youth, he understood little about the concept other than that you needed money to acquire what you wanted - or needed. Ponies either made a living with their own sweat, blood, and tears or resorted to more dubious means. As he grew, his once bubbly, care-free self began to vanish with each passing year the more he began noticing the suffering of those who were impoverished around him. When he was in his teens, he began developing a dark, cynical, brooding character and a caustic temperament. He would lash out against the injustice and unfairness and condemn how depraved capitalism had become in the region.

It was because of the sacrifices his parents had made for him throughout his foalhood. Dad worked from the break of dawn till midnight, doing additional shifts when he could while Mum's health slowly deteriorated from lack of sleep and excessive worrying. Both of them gave him everything they possibly could provide, so he would have a chance at a better future. Clockwyrkke realised this, and cursed society with each waking breath. Most of the town's inhabitants avoided him, many believing him to be mentally unstable. "Lunatic", "madpony", "deranged fool", these were just some of the names the townsponies called him behind his back - and sometimes in his face. He only grew up with a very few friends which he had particularly taken a liking to but eventually they all left for greener pastures. As a result, he developed a mild sense of paranoia, never quite trusting anypony wholly. Almost two decades later, he still has a tendency of keeping secrets - even from his wife. As time passed, Mum and Dad saved enough of their collective wealth to send young Clocks to Her Highness' Royal Academy of Engineering and Tinkering in Canterlot. He had a penchant for technology since young, so it seemed like a good choice to them to send him there. He had applied for admittance earlier, but due to financial problems he had to wait another year. He spent his free time working at one of the few canteens in town, gaining experience in dealing with most mindsets as well besides developing a sliver tongue useful for avoiding conflicts with angry or drunk patrons. The young stallion was more than overjoyed when he received word from his parents about him furthering his education; to him it was a chance to finally repay the immense debt he felt he owed his parents for all that they have done and given for him.

As the months became weeks and then days, the pale onyx pony who could not tame his wild, black mane counted down on his calendar, marking each passing day diligently. When the day of departure finally came, he could hardly contain his enthusiasm. He ran ahead of his parents to the train station and when they themselves arrived, saw him pacing on the platform impatiently. Mum laughed and Dad could not help but smile. Here was their young colt, all grown-up and going on to college, eager to face the world. Little did they know, this was the last they would ever see of him.

"Clocks?" Mum called to him in a soft, caring voice.

"Yes, Mum?"

"I want you to know how proud and happy we are for you." She then hugged him lovingly, tears of joy and sadness streaming down her turquoise face. Dad looked on, seemingly emotionless. It was not like him to display sorrow openly, so he didn't.

"Remember son, who you are and where you came from. And always be alert, Canterlot can be a dangerous place to the unsuspecting." Always the practical one, Dad was. Giving good advice and such seemed to be another job for him.

"Understood." Clockwyrkke replied and nodded to his parents.

A train whistle was heard as the engine drew into the covered station. Smoke billowed at them from the slightly dilapidated machine. Even before it drew to a complete stop, the cabin doors were slid open. There was quite a fair amount of shoving and pushing as two groups - one from the train and the other from the station converged. Clocks and his parents stood aside, neither wanting to be involved in the apparent meat-mash. Only once things had quieten down, did the young stallion bade his parents one final, fond farewell and boarded the train via its second car. Inside, he quickly surveyed the interior and was fortunate enough to locate an empty seat. He made his way to it, careful not to bump into anypony along the way. The only trouble he had was sliding his suitcase, which was fairly stuffed, under the seat. Mum often over-packed; extra clothing, a first-aid kit, some snacks, a small family portrait, and numerous more knick-knacks. His other bag, a small musette bag containing his personal tools, he kept slung across shoulder. Once he was settled, he waved at his folks through the window. Dad waved back, but Mum was too busy crying into a neckerchief held in her hooves. Immediately, Clockwyrkke felt a pang of sadness - one which he really hated. His parents, the ponies who had raised and sheltered him for the 19 years of his life, were there, while he was here. For the first time in his life, he was truly alone. He sat back, troubled about the future as the conductor blew her whistle and the engine once more burst into life. As the train steadily drew away and began accelerating, only two ponies remained on the platform as they rest departed, watching, praying for their son.

The journey was uneventful. He spent most of his spare time "perfecting" one of his more successful creations, a telescope he had built himself. He lacked finer tools to do so, thus spending quite some time realigning misaligned lens. To make matters worse, he had forgotten a few of his apparatus back home, which he had left on his workbench. When it was meal time, he would sit at a lonely corner in the canteen car, ordering, eating, and paying in haste. He didn't like the type of company he had aboard.

I pity their lack of intellect. He often remarked to himself in his head on more than one occasion.

After what seemed like an eternity of boredom and frustration, the train had arrived in the Highlands. Clockwyrkke stood up on his seat, unable to contain his eagerness and manifesting curiosity. He had only ever seen Canterlot from the post cards that other ponies received from their relatives staying there. Canterlot, the very name itself inspired awe and wonder in his being. As they passed Rail Gate, Clocks took out his luggage and propped it in front of him, more than ready to disembark.

"Heh, never set hoof in da' capital yet, sonny?"

Clockwyrkke took a glance at where the voice came from. An elderly, brown-green stallion was seated across him. A pony he did not bother acquainting himself with throughout their time sharing the same car. However, choosing to be polite, he nodded in reply.

"Well, now. Then yah shoulda know, it ain't all that glamour and sparkle as they make o' it in da' films. Keep that in mind." The fellow tapped his right hoof against his head to emphasise his words.

Before Clockwyrkke could say anything else, the train came to a sudden, screeching halt. The jolt sent everypony inside tumbling forwards. A few foals could be heard crying while somepony was screaming for help. The conductor, her face ashen, came in from the car up front and crisply instructed everypony to calmly take their luggage and file out. When questioned, she would not reply why the train had abruptly stopped. Ponies began exiting the train and were told to walk to the station by another of the crew, which was roughly 300 metres away. When Clocks passed the dormant engine, he took the opportunity to have a quick scan at it. From the outside everything looked fine, but when he crept into the driver's compartment, he received such a shock.

Propped up against one side of the interior was one of the crew ponies. He was a burly fellow, who wore simple slacks and a soot-coated cap. Most of his mane was shaven and his tail resembled more of a brush. He was holding a hoof to his chest, which was soaked with blood, probably his own. Blood was splattered in the cabin, covering the instruments. Another pony, was lying on the compartment floor. There was only shredded flesh at where his face should be, like a very sharp garden rake had been used to claw his face. Catching sight of the scared, peeping pony, the wounded engineer snarled at him.

"Hey, get walking to the station! I-It's... Not safe out here..." The stallion grimaced as he spoke, just as a particularly large gush of blood spilled from his chest.

Seeing such a gruesome injuries for the first time in his life - besides being an object of direct aggression, Clockwyrkke merely obeyed and galloped off to keep up with the other passengers who were a distance away by then. Nopony seemed to have noticed his absence, much to his hidden elation as he tried very hard to hide the fear in his eyes and the rising sense of panic he felt. Everything else passed in a blur, shock still having his system in its grasp. By the time he had managed to regain his senses, he was standing before the main entrance of the esteemed academy.

The building's architecture was much the same as the rest of Canterlot. With high steeples that flew colourful pennants and magnificent stained glass windows; it was like a palace to a pony who had only ever seen bungalows up close. The only difference being the unmistakeable dome of an observatory and the many towering chimneys that pointed to the sky, gentle smoke wafting from most if not all of them. A launching platform was sandwiched between two towers and a few ponies could be seen flying in the sky above. Clockwyrkke took the chance to test his telescope, hoping that he had somehow managed to correct the alignment. To his dismay, he was unable to view the flyers clearly and resorted to locating the nearest workshop as soon as possible. The whole campus was located within the Middle Tier of Canterlot, meaning that only the fairly influential - or wealthy ponies could be there. He wasn't able to recall how he had got here in the first place, perhaps he walked all the way or hired a cab? His mind was unable to playback the day's events after the witnessing the injured engineer and his dead colleague. He shook his head to clear it of morbid thoughts.

Focus, you must have focus. The words of his father echoed in his mind, steeling his resolve greatly.

He mouthed a silent token of gratitude to his parents for their labour while a pony dressed in a stylised warden's uniform examined his papers to verify if he was indeed new student. There were other guards as well, wearing golden armour and bearing the heraldric motive of Princess Celestia, the Sun Empress as she was known back in his town - a blazing sun in the centre of their chest plates. Extra tight security coupled with the earlier events did not sit well with him. With a grunt of acknowledgement from the warden, a nearby subordinate pulled a lever within the gate house, opening the gothic-style gates and allowing Clockwyrkke his first tentative steps and unobstructed view of the grounds. Little did he know, this was also his first step on the road to his exile.