The Devil You Know

Twilight gazed at the carpet of text laid out before her and rubbed her temples with a hoof. She wasn’t sure just how much time had passed since Celestia had enlisted her for this task, but it felt like hours. The light of day was shifting towards evening.

Once they had left the veranda, the Sun Princess had led her into what seemed to be her private archive. It had a domed ceiling that was lined with small windows at its base, filling the room with light. A large well-organised desk dominated the room while pristine books lined a great number of shelves. Twilight had never seen so many ultra rare, first-edition books in one place. She may have even squeed a little out loud.

Celestia had summoned four books from the shelves—all the original copies of Starswirl the Bearded’s works. Despite the situation, Twilight couldn’t help feeling a bit giddy. These were books penned by the greatest mage of the age! What scholar wouldn’t be thrilled at the opportunity?

“I want you to familiarise yourself with these volumes,” Celestia had told her. “Somepony will collect you when it is time. I suggest you do not try to flee your duty, my little pony. Philomena has a particular distaste for cowards.”

Twilight had never seen a real phoenix in the flesh, but she had read enough about them to know not to mess with them. The bird sat on its perch, its plumage a bloody red tinged with orange towards its wings. Its hooked beak looked more than capable of rending flesh and bone, as did the long talons. While it seemed disinterested in Twilight’s work, she was not willing to test Celestia’s warning.

So she had gotten to work. This was something she had plenty of experience in, and it helped distract her from her predicament. As she read, she sank deeper into a familiar peaceful calm.

The books were fascinating reading, covering some of the most advanced arcane diagrams she had ever seen. Everything he and Celestia had done to trap the Nightmare had been meticulously recorded. Here also were parts of the incantations and rituals needed to reverse it. They were dark ceremonies indeed, calling upon powers that had only been alluded to in the forbidden section of the archives.

Her eyes drifted to the knife she had recovered from Starswirl’s orb. This was a piece of the puzzle for certain, and she did not like the implications of it.

Yet there were gaps here and there that frustrated her. The floor was scattered with her attempts to find solutions which were constantly thwarted. She had a feeling the answers were only going to be found at the tomb itself.

The tomb of the Nightmare. The very idea of travelling there was terrifying. She had barely explored beyond her archive, let alone gone beyond Canterlot’s walls. Now, she was going into Umbra controlled territory, into the Everfree no less. She had calculated the odds of her surviving the night several times; the results were not promising. This was not even counting the fact they were going to be summoning a vengeful demi-goddess who had nearly brought Equestria into eternal night. Her odds deceased even more with each passing thought.

Death with a probability of dismemberment. Everything was going swell.

So much time had passed that she was sure the feathered sentinel watching her had fallen asleep. Philomena’s head had lowered to her breast, and her eyes were closed.

Twilight rose to her hooves and stretched her legs. The instant she did, the bird’s eyes flicked open, those burning red orbs locking onto her.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she assured in a trembling voice. “I just need a break.”

Philomena eyed her for a moment before settling back to sleep again.

Hmmm, add possible incineration to the list, Twilight mused morbidly.

Her eyes drifted across the room, settling upon a painting that had been covered over, hidden away in an alcove. It was the only sign of decoration in the otherwise spartan room. She had noticed it a while back, and her curiosity had only grown over time. Trotting over, she stared up at it with trepidation. Judging from the thick coat of dust, it had not been moved in a long time.

A quick peek wouldn’t harm anypony, would it? Gingerly, she lifted the sheet off, keeping an eye on Philomena as she did so.

She was taken aback by what she found underneath. Standing in a proud pose that one might expect from a general surveying a battlefield, was another alicorn mare. Despite being told that Celestia did indeed have a sister, Twilight was not prepared to actually see her.

She was beautiful, much like her sister, but her features were more strongly defined. Those cyan eyes had such a fearsome stare, Twilight had to look away out of instinct. Her coat was a very dark blue, the half-crescent moon on her flank outlined by a black splotch, like ink had been spilt on her rather shapely, toned flanks. Her mane was a starscape which seemed to contain the very night sky within it. She was truly a goddess, like her sister.

Twilight looked down to see an engraving on the painting’s frame, it read simply: Luna.

“What are you doing?” A sharp voice snapped Twilight from her musing. She looked over to see Celestia looming over her, eyes narrowed into a murderous glare.

“Oh, forgive me, Your Highness!” Twilight cried, dropping to her knees. “I was taking a break and noticed this painting, and it was nagging at me and distracting me from my studies, so I thought I’d take a peek, so I could get back to work and…” she took a breath in, “I’m sorry.”

Celestia glared at her for a moment before her expression softened. “I suppose I cannot blame you for being curious.” She looked over to Philomena, “I expected better of you, young lady.”

Philomena mewed softly, fluffing her wings.

“This is…” Twilight began.

“Yes,” Celestia replied, “I have not looked upon her in a long time. It…” she hesitated, “stirs painful memories.”

Gently, she placed the sheet back onto the frame.

“If she returns, what will you do?” Twilight asked, her voice a solemn whisper.

“In truth, I do not know. There is much bad blood between us,” she said, her ears flattening. “I wish things could return to how they were, before she changed.”

Celestia let out a sigh. “It is a foolish dream. But it is one I have clung to all these years.” She blinked, shaking her head. “It’s funny, I have not spoken of her so much in a long time. Perhaps it is because I may soon meet her face to face, once again.”

“Will she help us?”

Celestia chuckled mirthlessly. “If there is a certainty in this world, it is that my sister always despised the Umbra. She will fight them, of that I am sure.”

“And after?”

Celestia stayed silent for a moment, gazing into the white sheet. When she finally spoke, her voice was cold and stern. “If she will not see reason, I will return her to the earth.”

“But...”

Celestia turned and trotted away. “It is time. All our preparations have been made. What progress have you had?”

“Oh! I understand the fundamentals of his work, but pieces are missing,” Twilight said, trotting to catch up with her.

“Yes, the final pieces lie within the tomb itself,” Celestia said, looking over her notes with satisfaction. “Excellent work. Come, your escort is prepared.”

Celestia gathered the books and knife in the golden glow of her magic and trotted towards the door.

“We’re taking those with us?” Twilight gasped. Those were first editions; they were priceless!

“I suspect you will need them before the night is through,” she said. “Come, your team awaits. Oh and Philomena,” she called to the sheepish phoenix, “No mice tonight for you.”

The phoenix let out a mournful squawk and gave Twilight a murderous glare.

“I’m sorry!” she said. “I’ll make it up to you if we meet again.”

If I’m still alive.