Down.
Down.
Down.
The metal box of a room continued its unceasing descent for what seemed to be ages. It was not the building itself that was traveling downward. Trixie could not even see the window any longer, but she knew it was still up there, exactly where they had left it. No, it was the floor that sunk lower and lower beneath the ground of Ponyville Penitentiary. Ever so slightly did the walls shimmer as they grew increasingly thin, stretching ever further into the earth, like a coiled length of metallic rope.
“Are you doing this as well, Doctor?” she asked hesitantly. She was in awe to be sure, but it was an uncertain awe. The place may have been of a magic wholly new to her, a fantastic and wondrous magic, but it was also deceptive and menacing. Trixie was an illusionist. She should know.
“No,” the stallion replied stoically. “Not me. This is a pre-programmed command. All I did was hit the right trigger.” That was a little closer to the stalwartly enthusiastic teacher Trixie knew, but it still wasn't much. Sometimes the Doctor was so impressed, his joy of discovery broke through even the darkest clouds, but Trixie could tell the storm was not through yet. He was worried. Curious, but worried. And that made her worried.
Still, Trixie had been booed by enough audiences to know that when you saw an opportunity to get the crowd on your side, you took it.
“This whole thing is very interesting though, isn't it? Trixie can't imagine how much Equestria's technology has advanced to come up with something like this. The whole prison even.”
“That's just it!” Bingo. “It shouldn't! This shouldn't be here. The prison is one thing. With all of the native resources this planet has, combined with the industrial revolution that must have come along with the war, Equestrian society can reach massive heights.” He was starting to become agitated now, just in his tone, but in his face, in his pace. Everything he did, from his mouth to his eyes, to his hooves as he stomped around the place became a blur of motion. “I always knew Equestria had massive potential. I mean, you've mastered tools and architecture without even any fingers. That alone is impressive, but all this is something else.” His movements slowed and his eyes looked far away. Just for a moment. “It's not only incredibly advanced, it's foreign. Extremely foreign. Not just the materials either. Psychic alloy simply should not be available on your planet, but I'm not talking about that. Every single idea in place here is bizarre to this land. It's perverse. No pony could have made this place.”
That was not quite what Trixie had expected nor hoped to hear. Getting a little bit of a rise out of her companion was one thing, but now he was starting to scare her.
“So, what do you think is down there then?”
Trixie must have spoken the magic words, because the chasm of metal chose that moment to stop its downward drip. Everything gave a mild shake and the ground felt like a tremor beneath them; a sign that the metal floor had touched ground.
“I think we're about to find out.”
“Really?”
“What? Cliches are comforting. They're familiar.” Trixie just glared at him, her mouth taking on a slight pout. “Oh, fine. Come along, then,” he continued grouchily, “unless you're too busy being a major buzzkill.”
“'Buzzkill?'” That one just sounded weird.
“I know, I know. I'm just going to stop using new words. New planets: Yes. New species: Yes. Vocabulary: Fine where it is.”
“It might be for the best,” Trixie agreed empathetically.
“I used to be better at this. I know I was.”
“Of course, Doctor. Trixie knows you were. Trixie still thinks you're cool, okay? For now though, how about just getting us a door?”
“What?” He asked in genuine confusion. Breaking the pony's revery was no easy task, but only when it came to the strangest things. She wondered how much of that mind was actually working and how much was just at play. “Oh, right. Door, yeah. Let me just . . . 'buzzkill,' what was I . . . .” His eyes closed and his shoulders slumped in defeat, forcing his head to hang low without them to bear the load. Let there be door.
Doctor Hooves was in no great hurry to go anywhere, now legitimately morose about his inability to make slang sound cool as a pony. Who hasn't been there, right? Meanwhile though, Trixie was more than eager to hurry through the new opening and out of the mysterious moving metal monolith. However, as soon as she was out in the deep underground below the surface, she strongly considered going back inside.
“Doctor!” she called emphatically. “Trixie thinks she found the real castle!”
Indeed she had. Though, in fairness, it was hard to miss. Doctor Hooves, his shame forgotten now that his interest was piqued once more, made his way out the opening to join Trixie in gazing with pure fascination at the true Warden's Castle.
Everything around them was pitch black. They could feel the hard rock around and beneath them as they stepped, but there were no light sources to speak of in the, well, however deep down they were. No light, save for that of the castle; not a construct of metal like the false castle above, but an enormous monument, crafted of pure glittering gemstone.
Judging by the vast expanse that made up the area in and around the castle, the place had to have been a mine at some point. There had been literally hundreds, if not thousands, of gem mines all across Equestria over the centuries. Everypony knew that gems were prided not only for their beauty, but for their incredible qualities as magic conductors. At some point in the past, the area underneath where Ponyville Pen now stood must have been mined for every gem it had, only for each of them to be molded into the glorious underground palace that stood before them. And what a palace it was.
This was what Trixie expected when she heard “castle.” Large sloping arches, massive spiraling towers, high pointed ceilings, and tall sturdy walls, as far as the eye could see. While it was not quite the singular construct that the metal tower was, the castle was also not quite constructed brick by brick either. Some areas appeared to be carved from what must have been absolutely enormous gem deposits, each with their own bright color, while others looked more like the gems had been melted somehow and fused together, giving the coloring a muddy tie-dyed effect. At a distance, it all seemed to glow with a hazy purple hue; the color of amethyst. A structure of this size, made of pure gemstone and fueled by magic, could easily power an area the size of Ponyville Penitentiary. By the way it was glowing, casting its illumination ever brighter as they grew nearer, Trixie and the Doctor guessed that it was definitely getting that magic from somewhere. Inside seemed a safe bet. That just left one question.
“Trixie hates to sound like a broken record, Doctor, but how do we get in?”
While it was true that this castle did not look to be so obtusely designed as the one they had left behind, it did appear to play the part of “impenetrable fortress” rather well. Those high walls were still a thing and if there was any sort of drawbridge or entryway, then it was not one readily apparent.
“Is this another one that you can just 'psychic' open?” she asked, somehow managing to make air quotes with hooves.
“Are you mad?” he returned with a tone of complete sincerity. “There's no such thing as a 'psychic gemstone.'” He exchanged air quotes for a fake superstitious voice. Like when a pony tells a ghost story or talks about Ponytology with a straight face. It wasn't hoof quotes, but it had a similar effect. “Don't be stupid.”
“Fine! Jerk.” She muttered the insult. It really wasn't clear to her if he was being sincere or just giving as good as he got, though it was probably both, but Trixie still didn't like being rebuked. “How do we get in, then, Mr. Bright Ideas?”
“Oh, I actually sort of like that. 'Bright Ideas.' I could make that work as a pony name, f'I ever went native. 'Hooves's' just a bit too on the nose, don't you think?”
By the look on Trixie's face, it was probably safe to assume she did not have an opinion.
“Alright then, alright. Making me think about bringing 'buzzkill' back. Besides,” his speech broke off and he took a step back, putting Trixie between himself and the crystal castle, “there's nothing I can do. You're the one with the horn.”
Trixie glanced up. Nice hat. Just a bit under that, though. There it is. Yeah, that was a horn.
“You mean,” upon realizing what she was about to say, Trixie actually started to get a little excited, “you need my magic to get inside?” She nearly squealed. Magic was making a comeback of late.
“Oh, you just would get all excited about that wouldn't you?” he chided her gently, a sly grin creeping up the sides of his mouth. “That castle is a massive, for lack of a better term, magic conductor. It doesn't react to psychic energy. Only a unicorn, or a creature of equal ability, is going to be able to interact with it safely. And you, oh Great and Powerful one, are our creature of equal ability.”
“Hah hah,” Trixie shot back sarcastically. Not even the Doctor's jibe could dampen her spirits though. She was going to try getting them inside with a teleportation spell. Spacial manipulation spells were usually a little simpler than time manipulation, if only because they were better studied and their laws more clearly defined, but they were still far from easy. In the past, she might have approached the pressure of such a task with trepidation. That was before she had been forced to go so long without her magic. That was before she found out what she could do. Showtime.
She closed her eyes, seeking solace from the distractions of the world. Concentration was key, especially since she did not know exactly where she would be teleporting them to. However, it was not as though she was popping into a restaurant in Trottingham so she wouldn't miss her reservation and there was nothing to latch on to and she ended up outside in a dumpster and had to go back home and shower anyway. Not that such a thing could happen to the Great and Powerful Trixie. The point was, she was aiming for a place with a massive magic signature. Sure, she couldn't see where she was going with her eyes, but she could feel the flow of the magic, sense its ebb as it pulled away from her, drawing her in. All she had to do was find a focal point for the spell, a spike amid the magic energy and . . . there!
For a split second, the pale lavender glow of Trixie's horn glowed so bright, it drowned out the glow of the castle. Doctor Hooves was blinded. When the eyes of both the stallion and mare opened next, they found themselves surrounded by faintly glowing gemstones. They were inside.
“Brilliant! Absolutely stunning. Knew you could do it. Never a doubt,” Doctor Hooves whooped cheerfully. He was all smiles as he clapped Trixie on the back. It was a rougher clap than she liked, but a unicorn could hardly deny the admiration of her fans.
“Why should there have been? When you are granted a performance from the Great and Powerful Trixie, you are granted the best.” Holy cow, that worked! Who's bad? Uh huh, it's Trixie!
“You even got us in without knowing where we were going! I am impressed. I mean, I am impressed. Look at you, all blue and spacey-wacey, like. You're like a little TARDIS with a hat!” He turned away, as if yelling to the world at large. “Who needs a screwdriver! I've got a Trixie!”
“Well,” she began, trying, unsuccessfully, to hide the blush crimsoning her cheeks, “it was a rather difficult bit of magic. By concentrating on the most powerful source of magic in the whole castle as a focal point, Trixie was able to feel her way inside.”
“Most powerful source of magic? Imagine how that makes me feel. You are too kind, my dear.”
Both ponies froze. The voice feminine, but powerful. It had a softness to it, but an unavoidable authority to it. Regal. That was the word for it: Regal. Regal and sinister. Regal and sinister and coming from right behind them.
Slowly, they turned, almost squinting as they did so. A pony's instinct to shut her eyes when turning to face a monster, to keep the thing in the corner of her gaze just enough out of focus that it would not notice her, was hard to ignore. But the sight was inevitable. The creature loomed before them, dark as midnight, terrifying in its majesty. Instantly, they knew what it knew: It was bigger, it was stronger, it was faster, and they were at its mercy. Even in the glow of the gems, the dark of it was like staring into a void. And then there was the smile. The worst of it was the smile.
To everypony's great surprise, none more so than Trixie herself, the blue unicorn was the first to speak.
“You . . . you're the warden?”
“Child, please,” that smile, both terrible and beautiful, was all the answer she needed, “call me Luna.”