the town of gold and light is perched upon the precipice the town of gold and light is apprehensive and still the town of gold and light is a mask that is decaying the town of gold and light is flying too close to the sun. the town of gold and light is ticking, ticking, ticking. * * * “A little to the left, Aspen,” Mr. Pemberly chided, tapping her third knuckle with a deft swipe, knocking her hand into position. The bird on her workbench chirped again, its ruby eyes glinting in the lamplight as it watched the pair working on its inner working gears. Aspen’s workdesk, normally kept organized and tidy, was in disarray. Various screwdrivers and tiny wrenches were scattered across the old, oak surface. Books lay open in front of her, and the wax from the lamp was leaking, forming solid white masses on the table. The bird bent its delicate head, picking up a spare nail. It sparked slightly, chirping again at her. It was early evening, with the lights fading outside the old, warped windows. Curtains, heavy with dust, had been thrown open by Aspen to welcome guests during the business hours. It would only be a matter of time before Mr. Pemberly would demand that they were closed once again. “Blasted thing,” Mr. Pemberly muttered, pulling away from Aspen’s side as the bird chirped again, tilting its head curiously. “I have half the mind to tape its beak shut.”
Aspen watched the gears carefully, her fingers gingerly maneuvering their way around as she listened to Mr. Pemberly's guidance. She picked up the screw driver with a hesitance, moving in front of the magnifying glass to secure it before pausing. "Here?"
He glanced over, peering over his glasses with pursed lips. His cane made a sharp tapping noise against the polished stone floor as he returned to her side, looking down at the gear with dark grey eyes. The bird tapped the tip of Aspen's pointer finger gently, looking up at her expectantly. "That should do just fine, yes. How tight are you planning on screwing it in?" He sat heavily in his chair, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
She glanced back at him curiously before looking back with a thoughtful gaze as she inspected in relativity to the other gears. "Not too tight, but not loose. Should be about in the middle."
He nodded slowly and reached out a finger, lifting the wing of the automaton. The bird tried to bite him indignantly, and Mr. Pemberly frowned, reaching out with his free hand to flick the bird's head. "Birds, you will find, need more fluidity than most machines," he said, raising and lowering the wing. The gears around the socket shifted, ticking in relation to it. "Their wings are these huge levers inside tiny bodies, so they need room to shift around. Tighten it too much, and the bird will contort in midair and fall, shattering into hundreds of pieces. Too loose, and the wing will fly out of place. It needs to be looser than gears you put in human machines, but still tight enough to produce stability."
She nodded, her brows furrowing slightly. She pulled her hand away after tightening it just enough. "How many more fixes after this?"
He exhaled slightly, glancing at the window with impatient eyes. The old man's eyes were dark and intense, contrasting with his white hair and spectacles. An air of great intelligence hung around him, and after a moment, he looked back at her. "Are you growing tired, Aspen? I would have thought that you would have wanted to continue the work, but if it's too much for you..."
She raised her eyebrows at him, eyeing him with a hint of amusement. She huffed at his quips, shaking her head. "I'm not tired. I'm just trying to figure out what else we have to do."
He raised an eyebrow, and his eyes glinted as he considered her. After a moment, he gestured to the bird. The bird chirped, happy at being recognized. "Close the birdbrain up," he said, ignoring the bird's suddenly drooping head. "See if it can fly now."
She nodded, pulling away from the gears and doing as he asked, making sure the latch was closed tight before gently brushing the birds back and stepping away.
The bird cocked its head curiously before spreading its wings, flapping for a moment before taking to the air. Its song, a lilting, warm tune burst from its throat, and Aspen would be able to see the gears turning under the wings, forming beautiful, shifting feathers. The bird circled them for a moment before the tune slowly died, and it landed on Aspen's head, gently pulling on strands on her dark hair.
She chuckled lowly, taking the bird and setting it back on the desk carefully. She folded her arms before turning back to her teacher. "Looked good to me."
He nodded slightly, standing up and leaning heavily against his cane. "Go ahead and put it back in the birdcage, then. Ms. Alcolett will be by tomorrow to pick it up." A bell tolled somewhere else inside the shop and Mr. Pemberly's eyes narrowed momentarily, but he turned to look at Aspen. "Clean up, and then head home for the night. I'll see you tomorrow," he said, heading towards the back of the shop.
Aspen listened to the bell rolling curiously, watching him with observant eyes. It took her a moment before turning to the bird to let it step onto her finger and she let it go back into the cage, locking it after it closed. "Have a good night, Mr. Pemberly," she called, picking up her things and putting it into her leather bag before pulling it onto her shoulder. She headed for the door, stepping out into the evening.
The streets were made of cobblestone, glittering with gems and gold. The buildings around her were small and full of large windows. She would pass a cafe, and the smell of baking bread drifted out of the warm shop. Far above her, eyrec automatons flew through the dark sky, their wings clicking as they soared through the air. The glass ceiling had shifted to reflect the moon, inlaid with gold and stone and fading to darkness around the world's horizon. Beneath her feet, the constant ticking of machines hummed under the ground.
She pulled her bag closer, sighing in comfort as she passed the cafe. She could stop by for some bread tomorrow morning if she left early. Her thoughts drifted through her mind as she continued, following the familiar path back to her home.
Her house was towards the edge of the world, relatively simple compared to the other buildings. The lanterns lit up as she entered, and Dali woke, his bright yellow eyes blinking to life. "Good evening, Aspen!" Dali said cheerfully, walking over to her and offering his arm to take her bag. "How was work?"
She gave him her bag, pulling her coat off and hanging it up with a yawn. "It was alright. Thank you for asking."
He hung up the bag on the coat hook. "Are you hungry?" Dali asked. "I can prepare soup for you if you'd like."
