Twilight 'Sleuth' Sparkle: The Bittersweet Soiree

Fancypants' mouth hung agape as several surrounding ponies rushed over to comfort him. The unfortunate news seemed to have thrown off his balance, as he began to stagger about in search of a sofa or chair in which to rest. The first of the few to aid him, however, was Upper Crust. Her mascara was running and her blue eye shadow smudged as she sobbed into the shoulder of a still very shocked Fancypants. Twilight took a note of this - Upper Crust and Fleur de Lis, best friends? Or perhaps, deadly enemies hidden behind fake smiles. Rarity trotted past Twilight with a solemn frown and took a seat beside the blue-maned stallion, perching on the edge of the red velvet cushions.

A few of the palace guards had been dispatched from their supervision to secure the crime scene. Twilight remained undeterred. The lavender unicorn approached two guards clad in gleaming golden armor.

"Ahem." she said, pretending to clear her throat loudly. "I would like to see the crime scene please. I would like you to get Fancypants, Upper Crust and perhaps a few other possible suspects rounded up for questioning. I shall carry it out in a vacant suite as to allow the party to carry on." The stallions smirked, exchanging glances. They must've decided to humor her, however, for one responded.

"And why, pray tell, should we listen to you of all ponies?" the guard to the left replied airily, peering down at the mare. Twilight simply chuckled.

"Do you not know who I am?" Twilight said, biting her lip to stem the flow of laughter. She commended the soldiers for carrying out their sole duty, but these stallions were even more dense than they appeared. Celestia herself had trusted Twilight with a murder case before; it had been December, nearing Hearth's Warming Eve, when a Pegasus was found strangled by a string of Christmas lights in her own living room.  It had taken her some time and frustration, but Twilight Sparkle had eventually cracked the case like an egg in a mixing bowl. The worried expressions on the unicorns made it clear - they hadn't the foggiest who she was or why she had the authority to simply waltz into a crime scene.

"Twilight Sparkle, sleuth and student to Princess Celestia." Twilight grinned, extending a hoof as if to shake. The guards immediately bowed their heads, kneeling slightly in apology.

"Miss Sparkle! Terribly sorry. We hadn't recognized you. Please, do come in." the guard to the right babbled, anxiously brushing a shaggy lock of orange mane beneath his helmet. They both stepped to the side, opening a gap to allow her past, before they sealed it up once more.

"Quite alright!" she called as she trotted down the hallway. A Persian-type carpet covered the floor, decorated with orange and green squares. The door at the very end of the hall was the only one that hung ajar. Suite 39. The light from the crystal chandelier above flooded the room in light. The first thing  Twilight came across when she poked her head into the suite was blood. It splattered the beige walls and collected in a tiny pool on the hard-wood floor. The darker reddish-brown tint signalled that it was dry. Unfortunately, without the proper technology, this fact was useless in determining when the murder took place, for it could depend on several different variables such  as the humidity and the composition of the blood itself.

Twilight's heart fluttered with  a fleeting sense of joy at the thought of variables - such wonderful things! The glee melted away as the sight of her body came into view. Fleur de Lis' light pink mane was now caked with blood, and lay in sticky red strands. The unicorn mare shuddered at the vile sight. This murder had clearly been carried out viciously, and  with no remorse for what they were doing. This was a murderer with a grudge. There were several gashes dotting her upper back, just caressing the nape of her neck. Twilight approached hesitantly, careful not to disturb the body... or step in the blood. She knelt down beside Fleur, pressing her face down near the floor to peer into her open eyes. Even in death, her eyes were entrancing. Even if they were slightly clouded over.

"Miss Twilight," a guard standing outside the door grunted. "Your notebook." A fountain pen, notebook and a bottle of black ink consumed in a yellow glow drifted down to rest beside her. "How are you-"

"Thank you." Twilight cut him off, intentionally dismissing his attempt at conversation. There was no time for idle chit-chat, for there was a crime to be solved. She took the pen in her own aura, dipping it in the ink and immediately began jotting down notes.

- eyes open after death

• blood caking furthest wall and the majority of the suite's floor

• several stab wounds on upper back and neck

• violent death, signs of struggle - most likely grudge

Twilight paused, peering up from the paper. A spark erupted from her horn, and the foreleg of the dead mare was engulfed in a purple hue. "Just as I thought." Twilight nodded, jotting down another sentence. The body was stiff and resisted her prodding profusely - another sign that death had long since dug into this unfortunate unicorn.

- rigor mortis set in at least three or four hours before 7:13pm

Rigor mortis was a term derived from Latin, 'rigor' meaning 'stiffness' and 'mortis' meaning 'of death'. Twilight's brow furrowed as she contemplated this. "Ah-hah!" she exclaimed, a triumphant grin gracing her purple muzzle. "This must mean that the murderer would have had access to the castle before the party had started!" The purple hue vanished, allowing the notebook to fall to the wooden floor. "Guards!"

Within mere moments, a guard stood in the doorframe, obediently awaiting his next command.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I'd like you to gather anypony that might've had access to the castle before the party started, including Mr. Fancypants. I am sure he will understand. I need you to assure that nopony leaves this castle until a murderer is found. Is that perfectly clear?" Twilight instructed, pacing back and forth in the spacious suite.

"Yes, miss Twilight. Right away."

"Thank you." Twilight sighed, somewhat in relief. This clue was an important one, and it had come rather easily to her. Perhaps she was getting the hang of this already. Mustn't get ahead of yourself now, Twilight. There is still a killer at large. Twilight peered down at the corpse of a once-beautiful mare. The alluring scent of lavender perfume now overwhelmed by the stench of her decay. Twilight pitied her, for it was a shame that she had died so young, even though Fleur had been much older than she. There was still an entire life ahead of her, memories to be made and dreams to be fulfilled. But, at the hooves of a ruthless murderer, that life was stolen.

And now, the unicorn lay in this room, nothing but a hollow shell of the mare she once was. Indeed, Fleur de Lis was no more than a wilted flower. A faded memory. A victim. "I will avenge you, Fleur." Twilight whispered, as if she were addressing a perfectly-alive, living, breathing pony.

"I will find whoever did this to you."