Trixie & The Haberdasher's Dungeon

by SneakyKGB

Old Habits, New Problems

Chapter Nine: Old Habits, New Problems

Proofread by my good, human, friend, Goldbrain. If anything's broken knock down *his* door about it.

The seamster fell through open space, resigned to his imminent demise. It hadn't occurred to him that there was no more fire, or that his body was actually quite cold. There was only darkness, and a sudden stop as he hit the floor with an audible whump. Motes of dust took to the air around him, but he was only dimly aware that he could actually see them, which meant the room wasn't as pitch-black as first suspected. Just as Topstitch lifted his head to get a better view a noisy azure creature fell from above, supplanting his spine with her hooves as she drove her full weight into him like a demented pony-shaped javelin.

The stallion reared his head back, whinnying in pain, only to headbutt the mare who had landed on his back and bring about a migraine in the process. Whether unconscious or just stunned, Trixie slumped off of him to the side and the two ponies separated, both groaning in pain. Topstitch immediately felt something sharp poking him in the sides, and didn't want to think about what they might have landed in.

Trixie wobbled to her feet like a drunkard, her eyes spinning in their sockets. A quick shake of the head and a dusting of her hat and she was prepared to face whatever eldritch horrors the afterlife had in store. The unicorn was already preparing a light spell when she noticed what Topstitch had discovered before her, there was already light around them. If anything, that just confirmed her suspicions.

“If this is the afterlife, Trixie would like to file a complaint,” she stated, sitting down and immediately receiving a sharp poke to the rear.

“I don't think we're dead,” grumbled Topstitch, viewing their surroundings from his new place on the floor.

They were still surrounded by the hewn stone that made up the rest of the dungeon. Immediately within his field of view was a set of rusty iron bars, warped and bent. A small number of fractured gray bones littered the floor nearby, solving the mystery of what had been stabbing them. Beyond the bars he could see a corridor lined with cells like their own and lit up by hundreds of twinkling gems embedded in the rock of the walls and ceiling.

It sounded just like the haberdasher to create a deadly trap only to drop them into another section of the dungeon. As Trixie looked at her friend, and basked in the realization that they were neither dead nor dying, her eyes watered inexplicably. She was beginning to believe that she'd picked up some sort of allergy to alternate reality. All this sniffling and tearing up definitely wasn't her natural healthy state. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours she had thought she was going to die.

The showmare swallowed her emotions and scoffed, her voice echoed off the walls, “This dump is a palace compared to some of the venues Trixie has graced.”

Topstitch snorted. He forced himself into an upright position. “You enjoy it though, despite the bad times.” It was hard to tell whether he was asking her or telling her.

“Now isn't really the time to discuss Trixie's career. We should try to find out where we are.”

The seamster looked at her as though she'd just grown wings. A Trixie who didn't want to talk about her astounding life? Now that was disconcerting. “You're the expert, what do you make of it?”

Trixie tipped her hat back and looked around. “It's some stupid secret room the hatter made up. Probably to flesh out his story,” she didn't sound impressed. “As far as prisons go, Trixie suspects this one has seen better days.”

That much was obvious. The door of their cell was practically non-existent, lolling open on demolished hinges. The dust in the air was so heavy that it looked like a silver mist against the pale white light given off by the walls. Every other cell was equally ruined and, thankfully, equally empty as their own. Long chains sat coiled in the corners, attached to manacles that had long since stopped performing their duties.

Topstitch was still looking at her. The unicorn frowned, “I don't know what you expect, it's not like I'm a detective. Knowing Socks' pandering style of level design, there's probably only one way out of here, and it probably leads directly to the others.” It was difficult to keep the disappointment out of her voice, in spite of the dire experience they'd just been through.

“There's the legendary sense of direction,” Topstitch quipped. Trixie stuck out her tongue and took the lead.

Their shadows cast themselves upon the walls like gloomy dancers as the two ponies exited their prison. The stone beneath their hooves was as cold as walking through a river just before it froze over, and the air was just as bad. Judging by the bones in each of the dozen cells they hadn't been home to any herbivores, unless the prison had seen a lot of business in its heyday. It sparked a memory of what Trixie had realized after fighting the wolves, and had been about to tell Topstitch.

Before she could say anything of her concerns the seamster interrupted her thoughts. “What do you make of these stones?” he asked, tapping one of the rocks in the wall.

She didn't even need to look to know what he meant, but she did anyways to pry her eyes off of the cells. Trixie stopped and stared at the stretch of wall in silence, her nose very nearly brushing the shiny stone embedded in its face. At a guess they were the same rocks she'd found earlier in the cave, albeit with a pretty serious enchantment to have kept them lit up for such a long time.

“Glowy,” she blurted.

The stallion gave her a frank look. “You're a wealth of insight.”

She shrugged, “Trixie is an entertainer, not a geologist.”

“It reminds me of moonlight.”

That was what Trixie was afraid of.

“Could you do something similar for your costume?”

Taken aback by his suggestion, Trixie looked herself over. The archmage regalia was already plenty decorative, and she wasn't about to spend her time chipping rocks out of a wall just to provide an extra accent. Before she could say anything she heard her companion put out an exasperated puff of air.

“Your real costume,” Topstitch deadpanned.

“Oh!”

It would definitely draw the eye, and she'd heard that gemstones were quite popular in the fashion world. Not that Trixie kept up with that sort of thing. Somehow she doubted she would have any luck getting it back to the real world though.

The more near-death situations she found herself in, the more she was having trouble accepting that this wasn't the real world. Each time she tried to distract herself by pretending it was still just a game it worked a little bit less. Even if Socks was right and they would all be okay, she still didn't want to die and have to test out his theory. Trixie had no qualms with gambling, but not when there was a serious chance of losing.

Just how far did this world go anyways? Trixie had made up an extensive backstory for her character, Countess Lulamoon, so she had to have relatives, allies, and even enemies floating around somewhere. If she turned tail and ran east would she eventually find a coast? Beyond it would be the island, and the mansion upon it where her fictional counterpart had grown up. If she went there, would they know her and accept her as if she had been there all her life? It almost sounded like a good deal when one put it that way. Trixie could be a respected elite, with vast political sway, and the freedom to do anything that she pleased.

“Trixie...”

The voice seemed somehow far away, though the only pony it could have come from was just beside her. Trixie's eyes hurt, but she couldn't bring herself to close them. Why was Topstitch being so quiet?

“...worrying me...”

Trixie's eyes were glazed and vacant. She showed no signs of hearing him at all as she ogled the crystal before her. It wasn't like she was interested in it anymore, it was like she was looking straight past it, and beyond the physical realm itself. Whatever it was Topstitch didn't like it, and he shook her violently as the look persisted.

The mare blinked rapidly, finally tearing her gaze from the wall. Trixie shook her head to clear a buzzing from her mind and looked at Topstitch in affront, “Do you mind? Trixie isn't a bobble-head pony.”

“You've been zoned out for well over a minute, did you even hear me?”

“Trixie has perfect hearing, you haven't said a thing.”

Oh, of course, I must have been imagining it, Topstitch thought, agitation mounting. There was more than enough magic and danger in the real Equestria. To imagine what horrors had been created in the false version of it was somewhat daunting.

“We should make our way out of here,” Topstitch said. “I have a feeling those rocks would have the wrong effect on your audience anyways.”

The seamster had begun to walk away, when he realized the mare was again glued to the wall. She even looked like she was going to drool a little. What Topstitch would have given for a camera in that instant. Instead he turned about and gave a strong shove to Trixie's flank with his hind leg.

Trixie shook her head just as before and scowled at Topstitch as she stopped herself from teetering over. “What is wrong with you? The Great and Powerful Trixie doesn't like to be shoved around like she's in a mosh pit at some backwater music festival.”

Before she could look back at the wall Topstitch steered her away by the neck. What had once been the doorway now looked more like a drawbridge. The bulky hunk of wood lay on the ground, its hinges stuck up in the air with large bolts protruding from them. The surface was scored with dents and gashed as if it had been the target of an overzealous swordspony. They hurried over what remained and left the prison behind in favor of a dark winding stairwell leading upward.

As with anything, Trixie was slow to believe that she'd been reduced to a zombie by the glowing stones. Topstitch began to wonder why he'd even bothered to convince her of it. Even if she did realize what had happened the chances of her admitting she'd fallen prey to it were pretty slim. Seeing as it didn't really matter he decided it was best to let her have her way. Between the two of them she was the only one who could manage a light spell, and she wouldn't do it if she was throwing a fit.

They ascended the stairs without any trouble and eventually came to another busted down door. It appeared that whoever was there last hadn't had much heed for composure. Nonetheless, it led them into a circular room that was in a state of disarray. It was dominated on one side by a sturdy desk of darkly colored wood. Empty shelves hung around the room, their contents were now strewn on the ground as a heap of broken glass and half-items that neither Trixie nor Topstitch could make sense of. Small bookshelves also wound all the way around the base of the walls, but their tomes were likewise emptied onto the floor and their pages scattered.

“I get the hint that whoever worked here hasn't been around for some time,” Topstitch muttered, “but at this point I feel like Socks is just bashing us over the head with it.”

Trixie had to agree, but it had the desired effect. The showmare was itching to know what had become of whoever had used the room, as well as anxious to be gone from the ruins left behind. The search for an exit lay her eyes instead upon an embellished portrait placed high on the wall opposite the desk. The unicorn captured had a pure white coat, but it looked sickly more than majestic. The cloak he wore was the color of the ocean just before nightfall, and its cut was similar to that of Trixie's while his cutie mark, and alchemical circle, was stitched in gold on the back. Upon his gray mane was a tall black hat that looked more like the head of a chess piece, with three tall spires and no brim.

“What a charming feature,” Topstitch commented, pointing out a small alcove across from them. What should have been a door was instead a solid wall of wood, reduced to a mess of splinters and broken wood through which they could see into the next room.

Instead of forging ahead Trixie went towards the desk and tried the drawers. Most of them were locked, others simply stuck. She was beginning to regret not having purchased a lock-picking kit before the game began. In hindsight the money she'd had leftover still had to exist somewhere, if not in a bottomless coin purse on her person. Not that it did much good in the present.

“What are you looking for?” asked Topstitch, coming to join her by the desk.

“Scrolls, gems, hidden pouches of gold, treasure stuff,” she listed nonchalantly. Then she added in a mutter, “clues.”

There was a loud snap as Trixie tugged on a drawer, like a splint breaking in half. It came open abruptly, nearly causing the mare to fall over. As the contents settled the two ponies looked down not on concealed riches, but a plethora of dusty pages. Trixie wasted no time in levitating five at once and skimming them. Once finished with those she grabbed five more, and so on. Mining operations, notes on the lunar quarts, and page after page of experiment notes.

Topstitch carefully read through those Trixie discarded. When he reached up to straighten his reading glasses he met an empty nose instead. He grumbled and made the best of it. There were numerous reports detailing the glowing stones, the enchantments that had been used on them, and most importantly the effects they'd had on ponies. The first and foremost was a loss of physical perception, followed by long-term symptoms like memory loss.

“So they brainwash ponies, and then there's all this animal stuff,” Topstitch changed to another page. Drawings of a number of different species were labeled, some scratched out. All of them were predators, jungle cats, bears, and wolves.

At the bottom of a majority of the pages was a signature and the official seal of Archmage Vibrant Gloom. Upon further inspection his name was etched into the frame of the painting in the office as well. A little more digging and they found writings of a more personal nature, cursing Nightmare Moon herself and speaking of the writer's designs for all of Equestria. It didn't take long to put together that he'd had a considerable fallout with the Nightmare Court that he once sat on.

“Sounds like an enterprising mad scientist,” Topstitch muttered, “but it doesn't look like he's around any longer. At a guess he never got his revenge.”

They'd both dawned on the same conclusion, the one Trixie had drawn after fighting the wolves. Neither one of them was willing to give voice to it, however. Gloom had been using a combination of magic and science to erase ponies' memories and replace them with predatory instincts. Then he'd gone a step further and changed their bodies to match their newly altered minds. In short, Gloom had been creating an army of monster-ponies. Something had gone wrong, the lycanequus escaped, and that was why ponies were going missing in town. After years of hiding in the mountain the wolf-ponies had finally found their way back to civilization.

“Well... Trixie figured it out first,” she stated.

“I tried to design a line of clothing inspired by wolves once,” said Topstitch.

Trixie thought what that might look like. The results made her cringe. “Who lets you come up with your own ideas?”

“Canterlot is sorely lacking in a bad-idea police force. It would've been good actually, if Socks hadn't tried to convince me to make it barbarian couture.”

Images of ponies with jutting brows in puffy wolf-inspired clothing filled Trixie's mind. They paraded about, waving large clubs in their crooked or broken teeth. It didn't seem like the kind of style any sane Canterlot pony would buy into.

Eager to move the subject away from wolves, Trixie summoned up the least corny question she could manage and used it to fill the silence, “How's business?”

Topstitch paused in the process of putting away the papers to consider her question by drilling his eyes into the ceiling. “It's slow,” he finally replied. “I live in the seat of fashion, but I haven't got any regular clients as of right now. There's still always this charity event or that ball to dress up for, though, so I usually find clients there.”

“Huh,” was all Trixie could say. Her expertise in the lives of the Canterlot socialites was minimal. She'd never been to one of those parties in her life. “Those sound... boring.”

The stallion shrugged, “Socks chooses his parties carefully, I tag along. The orchestra is always enjoyable, and I can't say I've attended an art exhibition that I didn't like.”

Trixie filled her cheeks with air as though it would somehow build up and release as something else to say. How did ponies maintain friendships so easily, let alone more than one. It sounded exhausting. They'd grown up in the same world, chasing similar goals, but those goals had led them to very different lives. Trixie had never really considered the disconnect until it was staring her in the face.

“Trixie isn't beneath ruining a rival's career if you need it,” she assured him.

“That shouldn't be necessary,” he chuckled. “I'm happy here, even if I'm not famous or rich.”

The showmare gave a quick nod and turned her thoughts back to matters at hoof. There was plenty of time to figure out how to be a better pen pal when they were back in the real world. With all of Gloom's paperwork safely stored away, and no riches to be found, the ponies reconvened at the exit to the room and carefully made their way through the gap in the wood. It was soon revealed not to be a wall, but a bookcase.

The next room was a library, and the door behind them had once been a concealed passageway. More shelves flanked them on either side, and all of them were covered by a lattice of spiderwebs that were all specked with tiny black arachnids. If the spiders had made it in here as well it was likely that there were more tunnels in the walls, and that was how the wolf-ponies had escaped into the rest of the mountain.

Curiously, the books were sorted by color before title. The result was a solid wall of alternating blocks of color from every end of the spectrum. Several volumes on their left were bright yellow, and near them was another set that were all electric blue. Miraculously it looked like the books had been untouched by the escaping prisoners, and the shelves were ordered as neatly as if they'd just been stocked. The only exception was the books that had come from the shelf they'd just entered through.

“If you were a giant cave-library, where would you keep the scrolls for dangerous spells?” Trixie asked, eyes boggled by their surroundings. Libraries were a gold-mine for lesser-known treasures in adventure games. One pony's reading material was Trixie's 'Chains of Agony' scroll.

“Probably under 'D', in the non-fiction section.”

“Are scrolls sorted by title?”

“Have you ever even been to a library?”

Trixie tapped her chin in thought. “I flipped one upside down once,” she offered, her hoof aloft in a weighing gesture.

“Well, it's the same difference then,” Topstitch replied flatly.

From where they'd entered they could see a balcony and a second floor beyond. That seemed like a good place to get their bearings, and so they set out in search of a staircase. What they found was that the library was a labyrinth of discordantly arranged units that zigzagged back and forth across the cave. It was far from the most efficient way to find a book, but at least there was rarely more than one way to go. By following the left-side wall they eventually made their way to an opening.

There at the base of a wide staircase was a glass display, inside it were three books, each one more immaculate than the one before it. Trixie's nose was squished against it in a matter of seconds, eying the etched ivory trappings of an old tome and the glint of topaz and amethyst embedded in the brown cover of another, as well as the intimidating dragon's maw embossed upon the third. Now there was something that looked valuable.

“You know, none of the loot you find is worth anything,” Topstitch reminded her as her breath fogged the glass. “You may as well be finding paperclips for all the good it'll do once we get out of here.”

“Humor Trixie,” the showmare replied.

Before Topstitch could say anything else he watched as she brought down a hoof and smashed the glass case. She gave a low 'ouch' and the seamster stalked forwards with a dry expression as he watched the azure unicorn suck the blood from her wound. A moment later she'd already recovered and was flipping through one of the gaudy books with all the nonchalance of somepony reading a carriage catalog.

“You could at least pretend you're not trying to call every monster within earshot,” Topstitch sighed as he peeked at the book over Trixie's shoulder.

“Trixie could learn valuable spells from these dusty wastes of precious gemstones.”

“When you learn a spell of caution, let me know.” At least the case hadn't been trapped. Topstitch took that as a good omen.

The showmare turned to him and unabashedly shoved one of the three books beneath his vestments. After jamming the other down his tunic she resigned herself to carrying the third herself. With their loot secured they made their way up the staircase to the second floor. Much to their pleasure they quickly found a door at the end of the landing, only to realize directly after that it was locked. As Topstitch was trying to get a look at the bottom floor for any alternative exits he noticed his light-source moving away.

“Trixie,” he growled. “Important stuff. Trying to get out.”

When she did not respond he turned about and dragged her away from the shelf of scrolls she was perusing, carelessly throwing each of them to the floor moments after finding them. Topstitch clamped his teeth down on her cape and dragged her back to the balcony so that he could see below them in to the mess of bookcases.

“There,” he said, pointing to the opposite end from the staircase. There was another door there, or at least an alcove that looked like one.

“Good, now you go check for traps while Trixie looks for scrolls.” The azure mare gave a short gesture with her hoof to scoot him on his way.

Beyond the use of words to express his impatience the seamster resigned himself to dragging her all the way through the maze again. There was no end to her complaint as he led the way back down the stairs and through the winding corridors, past all the tomes, and doing his best to keep them on the right track. It took far longer than it should have, but they were soon standing before the alcove, and inside of it was... another bookshelf.

“Congratulations,” said Trixie, “You've found books! Can Trixie go now?”

Topstitch moved closer to examine the shelf, the stallion even gave it a hearty push, hoping it would shift or reveal a hidden exit. Meanwhile, Trixie had lost interest and meandered away, skimming the titles of nearby books and only keeping half the mind to look out for any clues. It was obviously some kind of puzzle, that or they just had to find a key. If they were looking for something anyways then she might as well get some other goods out of the experience too.

Topstitch sputtered in malcontent as he turned to leave, but not before something caught his eye. Amidst a section of bright red books he saw one that didn't match, a plum colored spine right in the middle of the set. As best he could remember it was the only book he'd seen out of place in the whole library. He was about to call Trixie again, when he realized there was no point. She'd just commend him on finding more books again. Instead he slipped the tome off the shelf and read the cover, Woodsy Wells' Animal Compendium.

Backtracking to the bookshelf in the alcove, he found an empty slot amongst several other purple books. Without any other keen ideas he slipped the book he'd found into the space. A booming metal click sounded throughout the library. The cave was temporarily bathed in pale blue light as a heavy grinding noise began. Topstitch turned just in time to see the bookshelf behind him sliding across the floor to cover up the corridor Trixie had just went down.

As Trixie stared at a solid wall of wood and literature, on all four sides, she seriously contemplated another fire spell rampage. How dense could a bookcase really be? I bet I could blast straight through it, one spell, she thought precariously. Turning the library into an oven seemed a small price from inside a cage.

“Don't set anything on fire, I've got this under control!”

The showmare went limp and wallowed in her boredom.

So that was the trick. He had to find the books that were out of place and put them back. It was astoundingly juvenile. Not a test of cunning so much as a lot of exercise. Not to be dissuaded, Topstitch browsed the nearby shelves for anything else, but it looked like everything matched up. Then, scanning a shelf of vivid pink titles he noticed one labeled Vol. II mixed up with Vol. IV. Topstitch quickly swapped their placed and waited for something to change.

This time the grinding was further off, though it still echoed through the entire room. Topstitch set off towards it, eyes peeled for more books, and found that practically the entire library had changed. What had once been a T-intersection had become one long hallway, and the exit to the stairway was completely blocked off. An area that hadn't been open before stood out, and within the small corner he found a mustard yellow book laying on the side of the shelf. He immediately recognized the color from when they'd first entered and crossed the labyrinth again to put it away.

“Trixie,” he called out, “if you see any books out of place, put them back where they go. It should unlock the way out.”

As he said it Trixie was in the process of flipping one such book open and shut out of boredom. It had just been laying there on the floor, completely inconspicuous. The showmare sighed laboriously and looked up and around for any empty spaces in her technicolor prison. When she spotted a gap amongst the matching orange novels she slipped her find in the space.

Another click. More grinding. The barrier to Trixie's left suddenly became a path, and she felt some hope. The unicorn followed the bookshelves, looking for an opening, but instead found herself trapped... again. Only her cage was slightly bigger now. She would have to have a word with Socks about creating puzzles that multiple players could interact with.

Beyond the confines of her bookshelf hell Topstitch could be heard dashing to and fro. The sound of his hooves was almost never-ending and with each small pause came the distinguished click and the shifting of more shelves. A few times Trixie was able to move, eventually making it back to the part of the room they'd come in from, but she was still cut off from Topstitch or the exit. On her way down another new opening she spotted a cherry red book slipped in between two white ones. Remembering seeing the red books some ways back she groaned and took it in her teeth, trudging back to the space and returning another tome to its rightful spot.

More grinding, glowing. Topstitch shouted in alarm from somewhere far off, “Wait, wait! You did something wrong, I'm trapped now.”

Trixie snorted derisively. It echoed loudly enough for Topstitch to hear. “You must be joking,” the showmare shouted back, “Trixie would never be dumb enough to trap her allies in a bookshelf maze.”

Fair enough, he probably should have made sure she was with him before starting the venture. A moment later he heard the mare huff and there was another, slightly different, click as the shelf that was pinning him in retracted itself. From there the path to the stairs was opened up again, though that side of the room was incredibly dark with Trixie trapped at the other corner of the library now. The seamster did his best to comb for another book in the darkness.

Once he'd found the tome he needed sitting on one of the steps Topstitch wasted no time in returning to the shelves and activating the next shift. The shelf beside him slid away and another cut off his path to the stairs, where the shelf had been he saw a long empty corridor, and at the end of it Trixie. The mare perched atop her red book like some strange gargoyle, rapping her head upon the shelf nearest her. Upon seeing him she snapped a lazy salute and put her book away for the second time at his prodding. Immediately a path opened between them, forming another three-way intersect.

“If libraries are anything like this, then Trixie is glad she's never been to one,” the mare huffed.

Topstitch had to agree. “It's a genius organizing scheme. Nothing can ever be out of place if the door locks until you put it all back.”

According to Topstitch there were two more purple books missing from the shelf that had started the puzzle. If they could find all three, then hypothetically a new exit would open, or it would unlock the door upstairs. It was a lot of hoofwork, but they gradually made progress. Trixie made sure to stay closer to Topstitch now that she'd finally gotten out of her hole. While she found the exercise boring the seamster was actually getting into it. It wasn't heroic or exciting, but it was busywork, and it was normal. Or at least closer to normal.

Eventually the last book slipped into place and all the shelves seemed to move as one. From the alcove the two ponies watched the library finally rearrange itself into neat little rows with a path all the way down the middle. A noisy clunk came from the second floor, the unmistakably sound of a deadbolt disengaging, while at the same time the bookcase behind them slid out of sight. In its place was no door, but a massive ironbound treasure chest with thick polished bands of metal reinforcing it and ornamental carvings in its face.

“That's a trap,” Topstitch said bluntly.

Trixie gave him a look of disgust. “You didn't even check it.”

Topstitch looked her dead in the eye. “That... is a trap. There are two things in this room that I know to be absolutely certain. Firstly, that is a trap. Secondly- you activated it.”

Before he could even finish his sentence Trixie's hooves were on the lid of the chest. She tossed it backwards and reveled in the golden glow that spilled warmth from its insides. Topstitch tugged at his face with one hoof, looking more and more haggard by the second as Trixie pulled from the chest a sparkling tiara made of some deep black material. At the same time he was aware of an outrageous loudness occurring behind him. The books were stripping themselves off the shelves in a frenzy, every single one, and coagulating in a pile at the base of the stairwell.

The showmare, meanwhile, examined her find. The metal of the band was swirling with small silver spirals, and the four gray gems embedded in the face looked as though they had dark black cores. While Trixie was no expert on rare metals or gems, she did know a thing or two about rare items, and what she'd just stumbled upon was known as a Void Diadem. An artifact that slightly increased magic power, and sometimes had other effects. Without messing about she placed the tiara on her head, over her own hat.

In an instant Topstitch's peaceful, idyllic, simple task had quickly turned into a terrifying trap. While Trixie played dress-up the books, powered by magic, had coalesced into a bipedal shape with massive club-like arms and a constantly writhing multicolor surface. It had no mouth to speak with but two of the cherry red books held the place for eyes, and it was staring directly at the two ponies who had just wasted their time shelving all the books that made up its body.

“I got you this,” said Trixie, extending her hoof to Topstitch and completely ignoring the construct before them.

Topstitch stared down at the silver band being offered to him and silently willed her to explain. “What's that for?” he finally asked.

“It's a hoof-ring! Trixie doesn't know what it does, so you should test it.”

The seamster turned his attention back to the monster at hoof. Trixie quickly slipped the hoof-ring onto her own foreleg and stared down the golem she'd created with her recklessness. As far as poor decisions go, she felt that she'd come out ahead of this one.

It hadn't occurred to either of them that the battle had already begun without Socks there to announce it. The book golem's massive arm came down at them, both ponies dove to the side to avoid it and the shower of literature that came from the impact point. It made another sweeping gesture with the opposite arm, its reach was so long that Trixie could only slide beneath its swing and scamper towards the opposite side of the room before it could attack again.

While it was busy with Trixie the golem wasn't watching Topstitch circle around its back side. The seamster clutched his knife in his teeth, but he wasn't sure what good it could do. The monster's hide was constantly moving and there were plenty of gaps to drive a knife through, but nothing that looked vital enough to injure the construct. On blind faith he drove the blade into one of the golem's calves and wrenched it around as much as he could. Instead of showing any signs of pain the golem just lifted its giant foot and moved it over Topstitch's head.

Not needing to be warned twice, the stallion fled, quickly sheathing his knife and meeting up with Trixie again as the golem's foot pounded down where he had been standing. While she held the light Trixie couldn't use any of her magic, and it looked like that was the only thing that was going to affect the golem. Both of them knew that it would only put them in a worse spot if he tried to use his own.

The golem turned on them again, only this time it didn't try to hit them directly. Instead it extended its arm and from it shot forth a spray of encyclopedias. Trixie tried to make herself as small as possible, unable to move out of the way in time, and took a thick hardcover to the side of the head. The impact left her brain reeling and her light temporarily died. Unfortunately the golem had perfect night vision, and it had no problem smacking Topstitch against one of the columns holding up the second floor.

It was evident that they needed to regroup. Once Topstitch recovered he caught Trixie's eye and dashed behind one of the bookshelves. The showmare followed his lead and met him there, listening to the sounds of the golem on the other side as it slowly worked its way towards them.

“Ideas?” Topstitch huffed, pressing a hoof to his side.

Trixie looked around the room and, failing to notice any industrial strength paper shredders, she shook her head. In the same moment the golem came around the corner and spotted them. The ponies hurried to get out of the way as it brought down an arm that filled the entire space and became a small wave of novellas cascading after the fleeing ponies. They met again behind the next bookshelf and, in a moment of enlightenment, they braced their hooves against it and kicked together.

The bookcase was heavy, but under their combined strength it teetered and collapsed on the aisle they had just escaped. At first it hit the golem and seemed as though it might simply shrug it off and crush the ponies themselves with it instead. However, a second later the bookcase sank and they watched half of the golem's torso go flying into the air while the other half was smashed and pooled out around its body in a large pile. Before they could even mistake it for a victory though the books began to return to the whole of the golem's form.

“Stairs,” Topstitch snapped. “Stairs!” he repeated, panicking as he galloped past the recuperating monster and headed for the exit.

They didn't get more than a yard or two past the golem's hulking figure before it shot another spray of books at them. Caught from behind, the two ponies were swallowed in a world of blunt trauma and paper-cuts as they were battered off course. In addition the golem had flooded the staircase, creating a treacherous mountain of tomes to climb in order to access it.

Whilst looking forlornly to the second floor and their escape Topstitch noticed something that might give them some help. High above there were a number of wrought iron chandeliers dangling from the ceiling. Each one looked long-dormant, but they still held candles half-dripping with wax in their jewel-encrusted arms. The stallion pointed these out to the unicorn beside him and she got the hint instantly.

The entire room went dark for an instant before Trixie fired a sharp bolt of fire at the ceiling. The glow illuminated the room only enough to make the golem's advance all the more intimidating, but as the flame hit the roof it broke apart and separated into many dancing flames that sought out the candles on each of the chandeliers. Within a matter of moments the entire library was well lit, and Trixie was free to summon up a shield to fend off the next wave of volumes headed their way. The shield spell wasn't one of her class's specialties, so she could only hold it for a moment, but it was long enough for she and Topstitch to get out of the way.

The stallion returned to the staircase and began digging out their escape while Trixie stared down the world's grumpiest librarian and charged up another spell. The golem went to launch another book attack, but its arm was met halfway by a much bigger fireball. In that instant Trixie learned just how noisy books could be as hundreds of books filled the golem's face and each and every one's pages rapidly flipped from beginning to end, the collective noise of thousands of pages coming together in a hellacious roar.

When the smoke cleared Trixie was disappointed to see not a tower of flaming book-monster, but an intact golem shaking embers from the pages of its skin and continuing its onslaught. What books she had vaporized now lay in a pile at its feet, singed and damaged, but it walked on unhindered towards her.

“Kinetic force,” Topstitch grunted from behind the retreating showmare. “If you can break it apart you can slow it down enough for us to get out.”

“Trixie doesn't even know any push spells, I only takes spells that sound cool!”

“Just shoot it!” the seamster shouted.

By the time Trixie looked back at the golem there was a dictionary headed straight for her face. The showmare twisted away and it glanced her hip with enough force to knock her back into the deluge of books. By the time she managed to poke her head out of the pile Trixie was thoroughly done with the exercise. She fired another ball of flame at the ceiling, this time aiming for the chains that held up the chandeliers. As it struck one was dislodged and it came tumbling down, burying itself in the golem's head and momentarily crushing its form. The candles lit books ablaze as they fell out of their holders and the golem was far too busy ejecting its compromised body parts to notice Trixie aiding Topstitch by the stairs.

“Touch this, grab that! Sometimes I wonder if you do it on purpose,” Topstitch nitpicked.

“Hush! Trixie got you a gift, don't be petty.”

Together they cleared the way and tore up the stairs. The golem bellowed at them from below, but what could it do? It wasn't fast enough to get them up there, and it couldn't shoot books at them past the railing. They were home free- the entire landing lurched sideways. Trixie scrambled to get her footing as she slid a fraction of an inch towards the railing, far enough to see the golem had smashed out one of the columns holding them up. As a second one broke in its rampage the entire landing tilted sideways and the empty bookshelves on the far side of it began to lean towards the two ponies in their shadow.

“Trixie, open the door!” Topstitch barked. The stallion was already going full-pelt for the iron-bound portal, and she didn't need to be told twice.

As the bookshelves threatened to smash her Trixie moved with all the speed she could muster. Below, the golem materialized no longer as one being but as a massive swarm of airborne tomes, and they all came after Trixie and Topstitch like a cloud of giant wasps. One by one the shelves collapsed, each one coming closer to snagging Trixie's tail as she caught up to Topstitch and wrenched the door open with telekinesis, giving them a full view of a grand stone hall with an inviting red carpet just beyond.

The books caught up. Trixie nearly lost her hat in the onslaught, then an eye as the corner of one skimmed her face. The showmare abandoned any semblance of style as she felt the floor prepare for its last support to buckle. Topstitch vaulted through the doorway ahead of her, oblivious to the small brown book nibbling at his ears as he wheeled around to see Trixie's perilous dash. Though she was already tired, still tired from climbing the stairs that had landed them in this mess, Trixie put her last reserves into the home stretch. Nearly at the door she slipped on a small book, but instead of tripping her up it added its velocity to her own and acted like a roller-skate. Wailing for help, Trixie flew to the doorway and cleared the exit just as a bookshelf fell upon the open door from the other side and slammed it shut with all the passion of a moody teenager.

From the safety of the other side the two ponies collapsed and allowed their heart rates to slow from a ridiculous, 'I'm about to explode' pace to simply 'why do you hate me so much?' levels of speed. Behind them they could hear both the book golem's roars and the sound of an entire landing crumbling under its entire weight and that of many bookcases. Besides that, though, they were acutely aware that someone was watching them. A slight glance to the left was all it took, and the two out-of-breath dungeon crawlers laid eyes on four familiar gawking faces.

The other members of their party looked tranquil as could be. Each of them sat in a circle, and their cheeks bulged with crackers they had forgotten to swallow in their surprise. Luna made a show of forcing her share down her throat in one godly gulp as she rose to meet them. Trixie had never suspected that she might be glad to see the Princess of the Night, at least until she remembered standing up to that same mare in Socks' foyer... legendary.

“See?! They're fine,” the haberdasher exclaimed, cantering over to the two ponies. He bent down and smacked the book off of Topstitch's ear before attempting to help them up. Once Topstitch was more-or-less upright Socks threw back his hood, revealing a large dark circle around his left eye. “She hit me, 'Stitch! Our beloved princess, patron saint of the moon and stars, she punched me in the shiner!”

Trixie leaned closer, with all the presence of pony about to jab her sibling's bruised knee. Socks scooted further away, just in case.

“She hit you?” Topstitch mimicked, still assessing the damage to his body.

“Let Us explain!” Luna pleaded, shoving Socks aside as if he was only a small dog in her path. For all that she towered over them there was a definite look of remorse in her expression. “When thou fell We thought you lost, We mistook the haberdasher's cackles for those of malice instead of enthusiasm. Thus We attacked him in a fit of passion, for which We are truly sorry.”

“Oh yeah,” assured Donut Joe. The stallion choked slightly as he scarfed down his food in a hurry to join them. “Y'shoulda seen it, hay, half of Canterlot'd pay to see that. When we though you got roasted she pinned him to the wall and socked him right in the goggles. I'm surprised he can even see out of it.”

Socks was visibly irked at the stallion's apparent enjoyment of his rough treatment.

Joe was unapologetic, “What'd you guys find down there?”

“Books,” Trixie grumbled. “Shelves and shelves of stupid... books.”

Socks leaned in and tapped the tiara balanced atop Trixie's hat with a satisfied smirk. “I see you couldn't resist, as per the plan.”

“What about you,” Trixie asked, swatting away the haberdasher, “did you find the boss?”

Luna nodded. She gestured to her right with a troubled frown, “The boss chamber lies just ahead. We looked inside to see what we could from the doors, but no living thing dwells within.”

“So, zombies, right?”

The princess was not amused by Trixie's halfhearted jest, though Donut Joe thought it worthy of a hoofbump. Luna went on, “Whatever awaits us is in hiding. Once we cross its threshold we may very likely be trapped inside.”

While none of them felt particularly attached to the cave, the idea that they wouldn't be able to retreat was scarcely inviting. Joe looked worried least of all, if nothing else because he'd already had time to come to terms with the news, but his calm did far more to help the others' nerves than Socks' did. When they decided there was nothing left to say on the subject they reconvened by the fire the others had started just off the side of the carpet.

As they settled in and told the others of their detour Topstitch was careful to skirt any details about the wolf-ponies. It wasn't worth burdening the princess's mind any further, and he carefully derailed Trixie when she was about to spill the beans. It was hard to stop her from gloating about having figured out the mystery, but eventually she caught the hint and fell into a disgruntled silence as he wrapped up the story with their fight with the golem.

Still, there was one other member of their party who didn't need to know anything. Socks was well aware of everything that had transpired, and he let them know it through his sneaky glances and quick smiles whenever Topstitch omitted something. It was strange to see the haberdasher so prideful of the grim backstory he'd created, but then that's all it was to Socks. Among them he was, ironically, still the most seated in the real world, perhaps dangerously so.

Comments

[Firebirdbtops]

You missed a golden opportunity to hit Trixie in the face with a book from the Twilight series. Her complaints would have been amazing.

[SneakyKGB]

2522561

GAH! You're so right. I was thinking about what witty book titles I could use too, but the obvious truth eluded me.

[SneakyKGB]

2528427

Eegads, that's a sterling compliment.

[MrAskAPirate]

“Have you ever even been to a library?”

Trixie tapped her chin in thought. “I flipped one upside down once,”