Day 15, 18:00

Pinkie walked down the stairs as slowly as she could physically manage without being obvious that she was trying to delay the inevitable. The other four stood around Vinyl’s body, which was now covered with a sheet of something, waiting for her. Redheart looked fidgety, shifting her weight from one side to the next, nervously glancing around at the others. Soarin stood with his shoulders slumped, looking deflated, staring down at the ground. Pale, but still.

Fleur looked as calm and cool as ever, thoughtfully posed with one of her hooves resting against her temple and her eyes shut, giving a serene impression. Trixie looked as cold as ever, glaring at Pinkie as she descended the stairs, but otherwise showing no emotion whatsoever. Pinkie finally reached the foot of the stairs and walked over to the others, completing the circle around Vinyl’s obscured body.

“I… I thought I should cover her up,” Soarin explained, breaking the silence, “seemed rude to leave her exposed once we were done investigating.”

Pinkie nodded, hoping the simple gesture would convey her appreciation as she didn’t feel like talking.

“Well, aren’t you all a lively bunch,” the Mastermind stated. Nopony reacted to the voice; its reappearance came as a surprise to none of them. “Oh come now; let’s not spoil this by being bitter towards one another. It’s like I said, one way or another, this all ends today.”

“One way or another…” Trixie repeated in a murmur, staring intently at the main staircase.

“So considering this could very well be our final hours together,” the Mastermind continued, “why don’t we remember the good times instead of giving each other the evil eyes.”

“Good times?!” Redheart repeated in disbelief.

“Yes, like the time Coco found Doughnut Joe’s stained shirt in the laundry room,” the Mastermind said, causing Pinkie’s ears to perk up. “Or the time everypony thought Soarin had murdered Trenderhoof. Of course we can’t forget the time Blueblood nearly had you all duped under my guidance, or when Cloudchaser organised a double murder out of the desire to protect her sister. Good times.”

“Those were all… oddly specific,” Fleur pointed out suspiciously.

Oddly specific indeed…

“Oh, just four random occasions that sprung to mind,” the Mastermind replied innocently. “Regardless, I think it’s time we jumped straight to the main event, wouldn’t you agree?”

Pinkie didn’t have time to disagree before the Mastermind’s voice was cut off by the usual rumbling and explosions of dust as the stairs began collapsing. Pinkie could feel her heart thumping in time with the trembling of the entrance hall, the anticipation of the final trial palpable. Once the stairs finished shifting, the room fell into complete silence once more.

“Are you all waiting for an invite?” the Mastermind asked calmly.

Pinkie looked over her shoulder at the others; the quick glance was all she needed to know they were expecting her to lead the way. Taking the first steps towards the courtroom, she could hear the others marching close behind.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever expressed it properly,” the Mastermind began casually as they descended the stairs together. “But this manor is a truly marvellous structure. Spanning the ages, almost as old as Canterlot itself. The first time I came here, I knew it would serve my purpose perfectly, and after these two weeks together, I can safely state that it has achieved that.”

“Your purpose,” Fleur repeated, “you never did tell us what that was supposed be.”

“All in due time,” the Mastermind assured them as they reached the foot of the stairs.

Pinkie stopped in her tracks, staring at the wall hiding the secret room. It would be so easy to defy the Mastermind, forget this game and go straight for the room.

“Come now Pinkie,” the Mastermind said, snapping her out of her thoughts, “you know I wouldn’t let you get away with that.”

Pinkie grimaced, before continuing towards the open door to the courtroom. The Mastermind had stayed true to their word that they would be punished if they tried to force their way through doors, Vinyl proved that. Pinkie had no doubt that if she attempted to get through that door now, she wouldn’t live very long.

Entering the courtroom, Pinkie took in the familiar surroundings. The circular railing with the sixteen alcoves, the screens directly behind each bench, displaying their faces as well as the faces of those who had fallen.

Twilight Sparkle… Doughnut Joe… Trenderhoof… Lightning Dust… Coco Pommel… Prince Blueblood… Braeburn… Gizmo… Cloudchaser… Vinyl Scratch.

Finally Pinkie’s eyes fell on the screen directly opposite her, showing the chaotic mass of grey pixels, representing the Mastermind. Pinkie had no doubt that screen had originally been intended for Blossomforth, before she…

Where is Blossomforth exactly? She was definitely here, that recording and those feathers prove it. But where has she been all this time? Where is she now?

“Let’s all take our positions shall we,” the Mastermind proposed, making it sound like they had a choice. “I’d like to clarify the rules before we begin.”

“We know the rules,” Trixie retorted, taking up her own position as the others did likewise. “We use the dial to vote who we believe the culprit is, if the majority is correct, we win.”

“Those certainly were the rules up until now,” the Mastermind corrected her, causing all five ponies to look up at the Mastermind’s screen in confusion. “However this time, there’s a twist. In order to successfully convict the killer… all five of you must vote against them.”

“What?!” Soarin exclaimed. “But why in Equestria would the killer vote for themselves?!”

“Actually,” Pinkie began, thinking back to Cloudchaser and Lightning Dust. “It has happened twice already.”

“Exactly, so don’t despair,” the Mastermind encouraged, in a sickly sweet voice. “Just have faith the killers conscience will catch up with them.”

Pinkie looked down at her hooves as the runes below her began to glow, there was no turning back now. She looked around the gathered ponies once more, sizing them up. Redheart still looked nervous, Soarin still looked downtrodden, Fleur still looked calm, and Trixie still looked cold and emotionless.

“Now that we’re all ready,” the Mastermind announced, “I call this final trial to order.”

Trial 5: Vinyl Scratch

“Such a shame about Miss Scratch really,” the Mastermind said in mock sincerity, “she was actually beginning to grow on me.”

“Alright everypony,” Fleur began, ignoring the Mastermind. “Let’s start from the beginning, why the victim was at the scene of the crime.”

“Well isn’t that obvious?” Redheart asked, “her and Trixie have been working there for a while now, Vinyl especially so. I don’t think it’s that much of a surprise that she was at the entrance hall.”

“But I was pretty sure Vinyl was headed to the games room,” Soarin pointed out, “she asked me if I wanted to go with her right after breakfast. Well, after she told us that she ran into Pinkie…”

“I still have no idea why Vinyl would say that,” Pinkie insisted, “I was asleep this entire morning; at no point did I speak to her.”

“Maybe we misheard her,” Redheart proposed.

“Regardless, we’ll come back to that,” Fleur said brushing it aside.

“And as Trixie already stated,” Trixie began, “she was in the library all morning looking up a spell that might help us.”

“And did you get anywhere with that?” Pinkie asked, bracing herself on the bench in front of herself.

“Trixie already told you she didn’t!” Trixie snapped back.

“Then perhaps you’d like to explain why you sent this message to Vinyl at ten,” Pinkie suggested, holding up Vinyl’s hoof computer.

Trixie just blinked, nonplussed by Pinkie’s accusation.

“What message?” she asked, sounding genuine.

Pinkie opened at the messages section, quickly bringing up the one sent from Vinyl.

“Message sent to this computer at ten in the morning,” Pinkie announced out loud, “from Trixie, saying ‘I think I’ve done it, meet me at the entrance hall right now’.”

Pinkie then looked up at Trixie triumphantly, but her expression quickly faded upon seeing Trixie's blank expression.

“I didn’t send that message,” Trixie stated matter-of-factly, holding up her own hoof computer, showing the only messages she had sent or received that day being one from Soarin asking if she knew where Fleur was.

She could have deleted it… can we do that?

Pinkie looked down at her own hoof computer and began searching about for a delete message function. To her dismay, no such function could be found.

And she does seem genuinely surprised by that message; I guess it wasn’t from her. But then who did send it? And how did they make it say it was from Trixie?

“Are you quite done jumping the gun?” Trixie asked, sounding annoyed.

Pinkie’s ears pricked up.

“What did you say?” she demanded.

“Are you done jumping the gun?” Trixie repeated, sounding exasperated now. “It’s a pretty common phrase Pinkie.”

“I’ve never heard it before,” Pinkie countered, “but then I’d never even heard of a gun until a few hours ago. But yesterday you told me you didn’t recognise those gold cylinders I found.”

“That’s right, I didn’t,” Trixie confirmed, “but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Because those cylinders were bullets, used for guns,” Pinkie explained, “so how would you know a phrase using the word gun, but not know what bullets look like?”

“I heard the phrase when I was in Manehattan,” Trixie explained, “yeah, I’ve heard of guns and bullets, but if you showed me them I wouldn’t know what they were without being told. So is that what those cylinders were? Bullets for a gun?”

“Yes,” Pinkie confirmed, “and they were also what the killer used to murder Vinyl with.”

“Wait,” Soarin said, “the killer shoved one of those gold things in Vinyl’s eye?”

“No,” Pinkie said, bringing out the gun and bullets, including the one they removed from Vinyl. “The killer used this gun to fire the bullet into Vinyl’s head.”

“That’s the murder weapon?!” Trixie exclaimed. “Where did you find it?”

“The murderer stashed it in the bedside table in the master bedroom,” Pinkie explained. “Fleur explained what it was to me, and after finding one of the bullets in Vinyl’s skull, we put two and two together.”

“But didn’t you have all six of the bullets?” Soarin asked.

“I did,” Pinkie agreed, dreading this moment. “But once we found this one inside Vinyl, I checked and found they had all been taken from my bags, as well as the master key.”

“You lost the master key?!” Trixie shouted, furious.

“I didn’t lose it!” Pinkie spat back, “somepony stole it!”

“When?” Trixie demanded. Pinkie hesitated.

“I don’t know when exactly,” she explained, knowing full well it sounded feeble. “I definitely had them on me before dinner yesterday, but they could have been taken at any point after that.”

“So what’s to say the bullets never went missing and you fired the gun?” Trixie accused.

“Well actually, I did some reading on guns,” Pinkie began, “and it turns out these models were built with griffons in mind, so they can only be used with claws. However ponies can use them if they use magic.”

“Meaning only Trixie or Fleur could have fired it?” Soarin asked.

“No,” Fleur cut in, “I’ve seen earth ponies and pegasi fire guns before using specially made gauntlets.”

Pinkie internally cursed, she had momentarily forgotten about that bit.

“Maybe we should back track,” Redheart suggested.

“I agree,” Fleur concurred, “none of this explains why Vinyl was at the entrance hall to begin with.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t she have been suspicious when Trixie didn’t show up after she received that message?” Soarin pointed out.

“Maybe, but who even did send that message?” Fleur asked.

“Who could?” Redheart added. “Maybe if somepony stole Trixie’s computer, but even then it wouldn’t send messages from her name right?”

“No,” Trixie answered thoughtfully. “Obviously somepony was able to alter their computer tag to send messages from other names.”

“But the only pony who was ever capable of doing something like that was Vinyl,” Pinkie pointed out.

“Well whoever did it,” Trixie continued, “they must have used the message to lure Vinyl there and shot her once she arrived.”

“I think Vinyl was shot from the front,” Pinkie pointed out, remembering how she lay in proportion to the rest of the room. “Which meant the killer must have faced her as they pulled the trigger.”

“But then why didn’t Vinyl run?” Soarin asked, “Or use magic to stop the bullet?”

“Maybe she wasn’t expecting it,” Fleur pointed out, “she may have not known the gun was a weapon.”

“So after Vinyl was dead,” Trixie continued, “the killer went and stashed the gun in the master bedroom.”

“But why didn’t they lock the door?” Redheart asked, “They would have had the master key, and we know it works on the door to the master bedroom. So why didn’t they lock it after themselves so we couldn’t find the murder weapon?”

“Maybe they were confident,” Fleur suggested, “or panicked. Either way it doesn’t tell us who placed the gun there in the first place.”

“Actually,” Pinkie jumped in, “there was something else in the drawer with the gun, or more accurately, something wasn’t there. The other day we found a diamond ring in that same drawer, when I found the gun, the ring was missing from the box.”

“So the killer took a ring,” Soarin repeated, “why?”

“No idea,” Pinkie admitted, “but I did find the ring. It had been hidden inside a book in the library.”

“Which book?” Fleur asked, Pinkie looked over at her, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Advanced Chess Playing,” Pinkie stated, Fleur’s eyes went wide with realisation. “That’s right, the book you were reading yesterday, at the desk you were reading at.”

“I didn’t take that ring,” Fleur insisted, “more to the point, how do you hide a ring in a book?”

“There was a hole cut out of the pages,” Pinkie explained.

“Well would it help if I recited every word I read?” Fleur asked, sounding fully prepared to do so.

“That won’t be necessary,” Trixie interrupted, “It wouldn’t prove anything as you could easily have cut the hole in the pages after reading them.”

“Well there is somepony else who might have taken the ring,” Pinkie pointed out, looking over at Redheart. “Redheart, you were the one who found the ring originally and took an interest in it.”

“Only because it reminded me of what was outside this place,” Redheart argued, “I had no reason to take it.”

“Maybe not,” Pinkie began, “however, when I was helping you examine Vinyl’s body, I found something interesting in the medical bag.” Redheart’s eyebrow raised in confusion. “Some fragments of purple glass, from Vinyl’s glasses which had had one lens broken.”

“Well I don’t know how that got in there,” Redheart insisted, “maybe one of my tools accidentally picked it up.”

“Well I decided to go look around the alchemy lab,” Pinkie continued, ignoring Redheart’s protest. “And I searched the drawers where you got all your equipment from. I didn’t find anything at first, but while I was searching the morphine drawer, I came across this…”

Pinkie pulled out the piece of the painting, unfolding it for everypony to see.

“Is that the missing piece of Orchid’s painting?” Fleur asked, Pinkie nodded. “I noticed it had been desecrated during the investigation, and you found that in the lab?”

“Yes,” Pinkie confirmed, “stuffed under the drawer for morphine, of which only one bottle was taken, and is currently possessed by Redheart.”

“I didn’t touch that painting!” Redheart exclaimed.

“Actually, I think she’s telling the truth,” Soarin interrupted. “I was in the room with that painting this morning before we were called to the crime scene, and it hadn’t been torn then. Whoever removed that piece must have done it after we all saw the body, and I’m sure Redheart must have had that morphine in her bag before she arrived on scene.”

“Thank you,” Redheart said relieved.

“Fair point,” Pinkie admitted, “however, I decided to pay a visit to Orchid’s crypt upon seeing this. Where I found this inside his empty sarcophagus.”

Pinkie pulled out the pink hair, holding it out for everypony to see.

“I don’t get it, what am I looking at?” Soarin asked nonplussed.

“It’s a pink hair,” Pinkie explained, “and it matches the shade of both Redheart and Fleur.”

“Yes, it does now,” Fleur argued, “but the colour could have easily faded, meaning it was originally closer to your shade of pink.”

“True,” Pinkie admitted, “but it’s too straight to be mine.”

“I don’t think a single hair is what I would consider to be solid evidence,” Trixie pointed out.

“Actually Trixie, that reminds me,” Pinkie jumped in, “yesterday you said you were at the crypt.”

“Yes, so?” Trixie asked, uninterested.

“Well the first time you and I went there,” Pinkie continued, “I opened the crypt door using a pressure pad, which you never knew about.” Indeed Trixie’s eyes widened at this revelation. “You thought it was your magic that opened it. So then how did you get inside the crypt yesterday if you didn’t know how to open it?”

“Trixie…” Trixie began; blushing at finding out it wasn’t her magical prowess that opened the tomb. “Trixie found the crypt open when she arrived.”

“It was already open?” Pinkie repeated, surprised.

“Yes, Trixie just assumed we had forgotten to close it after our last visit,” she responded.

“Alright then,” Pinkie began again, abandoning that train of thought. “Well after I left the crypt, I went back to the gym to take another look at the skeleton. However when I got there, the trunk had been moved and the skeleton was taken.”

“Yes, I discovered that too just before we were called to the trial,” Trixie explained.

“Really, only then?” Pinkie asked, pulling the torn piece of Trixie’s cape from her bag. “Because I found this caught in the trunk. Look familiar?”

“That’s from my cape!” Trixie shouted, outraged. “Who dares defile my majestic attire?!”

“You mean to say you weren’t wearing the cape when you stole the skeleton?” Pinkie pushed.

“No,” Trixie said plainly, “Trixie hasn’t worn that cape since the first day, and even if I had been wearing it, I would never have allowed it to get torn.”

Wow, she sounds almost like Rarity when she talks about her cape.

“So where is the skeleton now?” Fleur asked, concerned.

“I don’t know,” Trixie admitted, “Trixie didn’t have time to look for it before we were called back to the entrance hall.”

“Actually I did find it,” Pinkie announced. “It’s hidden in the dining room ceiling, in that hole left by the chandelier.”

“How on earth did it get up there?” Redheart asked, amazed.

“I had thought somepony went through Cloudchaser’s room, like Gizmo had,” Pinkie explained, “but after taking the door off the hinges like we did for the sixteenth room, I figured out that would have been impossible. That means it could only have been put up there using magic or wings.”

“It wasn’t me,” Soarin said quickly.

“Actually Soarin,” Pinkie interrupted, “you were in the gym yesterday weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Soarin admitted, “but I didn’t touch that box or the bones in it.”

“This makes no sense!” Fleur gave off, sounding uncharacteristically angry. “There must be a dozen pieces of evidence that implicate one or two of us while assuring the innocence of the others.”

She’s right, we’re going around in circles… doing exactly what the Mastermind wants us too…

“Do you give up?” the Mastermind asked suddenly, “It looked to me like you’re struggling.”

“We’re not giving up!” Pinkie shouted at the screen opposite her.

“Really? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve hit dead end after dead end,” the Mastermind continued, “Almost like you’ve learnt nothing…”

You haven’t learnt anything…

Pinkie froze, as the voices began blurring together.

What have I learnt? Despite how unrelated things may seem, there can be hidden connections, I just have to look for them. I can’t assume somepony is guilty until I have all the facts. There’s often more to something than meets the eye, more factors at play that you wouldn’t see if you didn’t look at the big picture. A pony’s background and situation can tell you a lot about them, and to really understand what a pony is capable of you first have to understand the pony.

You have the knowledge… you just need to apply it…

Pinkie looked around at the other four ponies who were looking at her expectantly, even now after she had stood and accused them all they still hoped she would pull some magic solution out of her mane.

Lesson number two… don’t assume ponies are guilty before having all the facts. That’s all I’ve done today, every step I take, everything I find, I’m not thinking how it fits into the grand scheme of things, all I’m thinking of is who I can justifiably point my hoof at.

“I’m sorry everypony,” Pinkie whispered, the others all stared in confusion at her. “This whole time I’ve been so torn up over Vinyl and Twilight and everypony else that I’ve jumped at every opportunity to accuse one of you. But I forgot that in all the cases before this, we succeeded because we worked together. So for that I’m sorry.”

“Pinkie, you never had anything to be sorry for,” Fleur assured her, “we’ve all been through a lot, we all have a breaking point.”

“Yeah, even if you’ve reached yours, we’re not turning our backs on you,” Soarin assured her.

“How could we?” Redheart stated, “if it wasn’t for you, none of us would have made it this far.”

They all looked to Trixie, as if expecting her to jump in. Upon noticing all eyes were on her, Trixie reluctantly spoke up.

“Trixie respects your dedication to justice,” Trixie said flatly, a faint hint of sincerity present. “Even if you unjustly accuse Trixie, she knows you only have the best intentions.”

“Thanks everypony,” Pinkie said appreciatively, a massive weight lifting from her shoulders.

“Yes how lovely,” the Mastermind interrupted, “shame it doesn’t actually help you in any way.”

“Actually…” Pinkie began, looking up at the screen opposite her, a winning smile on her face.

Lesson number three… more to something than meets the eye. Well too bad for you, Mastermind, we just laid out the big picture for all to see.

“I knew something was wrong all day,” Pinkie began. “The bone conveniently fallen to the dining room floor, the piece of the painting miraculously being in the one place I thought to search, the ring in the one book that mysteriously caught my eye.”

“You’re point being?” the Mastermind asked, sounding bored.

“All day I’ve been finding evidence suggesting one of my friends was guilty,” Pinkie continued, “most of which was far too convenient to be a mere coincidence. So I put it to you, that you, the Mastermind have been intentionally sabotaging our investigation by planting false evidence everywhere.”

“You think I would play dirty?” the Mastermind said, sounding appalled. “Why ever would I do such a thing?”

“Because it’s you isn’t it?” Pinkie replied, “And not just pulling the strings like you did with Blueblood, you actively carried out the murder.”

“Why would I kill Vinyl Scratch?” the Mastermind asked dully, “What would I possibly gain from that?”

“Silence,” Pinkie answered, “Vinyl got through the stairs, didn’t she? Today I found dust on them. Every trial when the stairs descend, they shoot fresh dust up, and every time, the dust is always cleared the next day. If there was fresh dust on the stairs, that means they moved, so Vinyl could have gone down there and found your secret room. I don’t know what’s in there, but no doubt after Vinyl had seen it, you couldn’t let her live. So you killed her directly and proceeded to plant false evidence in order to distract us from the truth.”

“Very clever!” the Mastermind exclaimed, sounding impressed. “And all because you found a little dust on a step, you continue to impress me Pinkie Pie.”

“So you admit it?” Fleur asked in disbelief. “You killed Vinyl.”

“Yes, I admit it,” the Mastermind confirmed, “Miss Scratch stumbled upon my little secrets, making her a liability. It was her own fault really.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t lure her there with the message from Trixie?” Pinkie asked sceptically, “even though you could have sent it from any of the hoof computers you took from the deceased.”

“Caught out again!” the Mastermind exclaimed, almost joyfully, “Yes, I believed Vinyl was getting too close for comfort, so I decided to let her see what lay beyond the stairs on my own terms… and you all saw how that ended for her.”

“So we know who killed Vinyl,” Redheart said, “that means we win right?”

“I guess you do,” the Mastermind stated, sounding disappointed, “Just go ahead and turn you dials to… oh wait! You can’t because you need to know who I am, or have you forgotten since the third trial?”

So that’s the real mystery here, Vinyl’s murder was just a red herring…

“Come now,” Trixie announced, “it’s obvious that the Mastermind is Orchid the Omnipotent. Missing from his grave, capable of outstanding feats of magic, it has to be him!”

“Actually I think it might Blossomforth,” Redheart proposed, “think about it, we know she was here, but none of us have seen head or tail of her.”

“Come on guys, this has Discord written all over it,” Soarin insisted, “I know you said he never killed ponies, but he did say himself that not killing lead to overpopulation, maybe he rethought his stance on it.”

“I think it’s far more likely that one of us is the Mastermind,” Fleur suggested, “It would allow them to work closely alongside us, directing us as they desired.”

No… I don’t believe it’s any of them.

Pinkie rested her forehooves on the bench in front of her, hanging her head as she allowed her mind to wonder.

Lesson number one… things are connected, despite seeming insignificant.

Pinkie thought back over the last two weeks, everything she’s seen flashing before her mind’s eye.

Feathers… Missing ponies… surgical tools…

Could it be…

Purple paint… shampoo bottles… a faded pink hair…

No…

Broken bones… an expensive trunk… letters…

It can’t be…

A secluded manor owned by the crown…

Impossible!

Pinkie looked up slowly, ignoring the still debating ponies around her, looking up to the silent screen opposite her. After a few second the others began catching on to her own silence, falling quiet as well, looking at her with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

“Well?” the Mastermind asked expectantly.

“There’s only one pony who could have done all this…” Pinkie began, her voice weak. “One of the sixteen…”

“So you believe I am Blossomforth?” the Mastermind stated.

“No… not Blossomforth,” Pinkie replied, her voice shaking now.

“Ah, so you agree with Fleur that I am someone in this room?”

Pinkie shook her head slowly, swallowing hard. “We both know you aren’t.”

“Well, I fail to see who else I could possibly be,” the Mastermind said, feigning ignorance. “Everypony else is dead.”

“No… not everypony,” Pinkie said, almost in a whisper, “Not you… not really…

“Twilight Sparkle.”

The room fell into a deathly silence, the other four ponies staring in disbelief at Pinkie. But Pinkie never took her eyes off the screen in front of her.

“And what…” the Mastermind began calmly, “Would give you an idea like that?”

“For starters” Pinkie began, her voice gaining a little strength as she entered back into swing of the trial. “You said as we came down here that this manor suited your purposes, that you realised that the first time you visited it. In the letter Twilight received from 'Luna', it said the Arcane Manor was owned by the crown. Twilight as a princess would have access to it, and whoever set all this up would need a long time to prepare.

“Secondly, the letters themselves,” Pinkie continued, “They were all written in the same style, a style known as the pre-Discord Era style of writing. This style became obsolete over a thousand years ago because of the way it was written caused it to fade quicker over time. Who in this day and age would write in that style? Somepony whose teacher was over a thousand years old perhaps.

“Next, there’s the shield stopping us from leaving the grounds as well as all the magic and enchantments we’ve encountered. Twilight’s magic is purple, but as we already clarified, the most powerful unicorns can alter their colour, perhaps even use multiple colours. Twilight was the element of magic, and an alicorn, I don’t doubt she could be capable of doing this. Also her brother was a master when it came to magical shields; hence Twilight could have learnt from the best how to erect that one outside.

“Next is our first day, according to the recording we saw, we were the first to arrive. So if Twilight had just pretended to fall unconscious, she would have been able to dispose of me in the dining room and take care of the others as they arrived. As well this, the first two times the Mastermind spoke to us, we all talked at some point or another, all of us except Twilight. She was the only one of the original fifteen not to open her mouth during your initial speeches.

“Finally,” Pinkie concluded, “How Twilight faked her death. That one’s easy, Blossomforth had her coat dyed purple in the master bathroom, and had the horn from Orchid’s skeleton surgically attached to her in the morgue. Blueblood mentioned how Orchid’s horn was female sized, combine this with Blossomforth already being Twilight’s shape and size as well as having her mane cut, she made the perfect patsy.

“And let’s not forget the trunk Orchid’s skeleton was kept in. At the time I thought it looked like something belonging to a pony from Canterlot, and I was sure I’d seen it before. That’s because that trunk belongs to Twilight, I saw her with it when she first moved to Ponyville from Canterlot. Not to mention Twilight was able to use magic to hide the skeleton in the dining room ceiling and use the gun on Vinyl, and the pink hair could have come from the streak in her mane.”

Pinkie exhaled when she finally finished, she felt weak.

“That’s all I have,” she said after a minute of stunned silence, “I believe that you, Twilight Sparkle, are the Mastermind!”

The silence stretched on… and on. Pinkie was beginning to fear she was entirely wrong, until at last the Mastermind spoke.

“Well done…”

The screen opposite Pinkie flickered off as a bright purple light exploded down onto the alcove beneath it. Pinkie was forced to shield her eyes from the light along with the others, until it was dispelled by a pair of wings snapping open, brushing the light aside as if it were smoke.

Pinkie removed her hoof from in front of her eyes, and looked over at the mare opposite her. Twilight looked… perfect, regally posed, her wings framing her, the corners of her mouth curled up into a smile, her eyes…

Pinkie had to glance down, looking into her friend’s eyes made her feel dizzy, like she was diving into deep, dark pools.

“Congratulations Pinkie,” Twilight announced, “You did it.”

No, no, no, it can’t be!

Pinkie shook, true she had deduced this, but in her heart she had refused to believe it, refused to believe that her friend, Twilight Sparkle was responsible for the deaths of ten ponies.

“It’s okay Pinkie,” Twilight said softly, “you won, you don’t have to look so sad.”

“Why?” Pinkie whispered, her voice trembling.

“Pardon?” Twilight said, her ear perking up.

“Why?” Pinkie repeated, louder this time, but the shake in her voice made her impossible to decipher.

“You’re really going to have to speak up,” Twilight said kindly.

“WHY?!”

Pinkie looked around in surprise; it wasn’t her that had shouted. Trixie stood, her hooves planted on the bench in front of her, but threatening to give out at any second due to violent shakes wracking her body. Her face was twisted in an expression of agony and fury, her eyes streaming with tears.

“It can’t be you, it just can’t!” Trixie screamed, “I idolised you! I worshiped you! Everything I did was for you… to avenge you! It can’t be you... It… it just…”

Trixie’s words failed her, as she collapsed to the ground, sobbing her heart out. Pinkie felt her own heart break for her.

This whole time I thought you just didn’t care… that you felt nothing. But you were just trying to be strong… for her.

Looking back up Pinkie was shocked to see Twilight wasn’t even looking at Trixie, instead focusing her gaze on herself.

“Why did you do this?” Pinkie asked again, stronger this time.

“You mean you still haven’t figured it out?” Twilight asked half surprised. “It’s you Pinkie Pie!”

Pinkie froze as Twilight’s statement hit her.

“Don’t you see?” Twilight asked, “This whole thing was a test… for you.”

“A test?!” Pinkie repeated in disbelief and no short amount of horror. “You had ponies kill each other to test me?!”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’d say you scored top marks,” Twilight said, as if that justified it all.

Pinkie Pie felt like she was about to have an aneurysm, thankfully she was saved from this by Fleur snapping out of her paralysis and stepping into the conversation.

“Forgive me princess, but I’m afraid I don’t quite understand,” she said, her voice quavering.

“Ah Fleur, I’m glad you made it this far,” Twilight said, as if only noticing the others in the room. “You’re quite close to Celestia, I’m sure she would have been disappointed in me if you hadn’t made it out of here.”

“Does… Does Princess Celestia know about this?” Fleur asked, sounding terrified.

“Oh heavens no,” Twilight assured her, “I doubt she would see eye to eye with me regarding this.”

“So what was the point?!” Pinkie demanded. “How does any of this test me?!”

“Oh Pinkie,” Twilight said blissfully, turning her attention back to Pinkie, “I’ve waited for this day for so long, to finally be able to express myself. I knew there was something different about you the first time I saw you, you… intrigued me. The more I got to know you, the more my curiosity grew. I’ve been able to understand things, but you… you’re an enigma; you can do things nopony can. But beneath the silly exterior I’ve seen flashes of pure genius in you; I always knew you were destined for great things.

“When I ascended to the rank of princess, I became even more convinced that you and I were brought together for a purpose, that side by side we could do monumental things. However it wasn’t until recently that I began to seriously consider the possibility of taking you under my wing, of helping you the way Celestia once helped me, guiding you along the path to become my equal. But I needed to be sure; I needed to know you were everything I expected of you. So for the last several months I have been meticulously planning the ultimate trial, to test your true intelligence in the most trying circumstances.

“And you did better than I could ever have hoped,” Twilight continued, sounding euphoric. “Every trial the came your way, you overcame it. Every murder solved, every mystery unravelled, time after time you displayed unparalleled levels of deduction and intellect. And now, here today, you solved the final puzzle I could throw at you, the identity of the Mastermind. I am… so proud of you Pinkie.”

Pinkie just stared at Twilight, her mind screaming in protest at what she was being told.

All those ponies dead… all the pain and suffering everypony’s been through… all because Twilight wanted to see if I was smart enough to figure it out!

“I understand this is a lot to take in Pinkie,” Twilight said sympathetically, “but don’t think about the ponies that didn’t make it, they will forever be remembered for the role they played in your rise. Instead think about what this means for the future, you and I will be together, best friends to the end of time. No matter what’s happened, I’m still your friend, I still care about you. After all, I was always helping you in whatever small ways I could without giving myself away, whether it be through showing you the controls to the air conditioning, or convincing Vinyl she already spoke to you this morning in order to give you a lie in.”

Pinkie still didn’t respond, she felt hollow; she felt like her very existence had brought misery to those around her. But that couldn’t be, her special talent was making ponies smile, making them happy, that’s what she lived for. Now she was being told that because of her, ten ponies were dead. Pinkie wanted to curl up and cry, but she couldn’t even bring herself to do that.

“How did this happen?” Soarin asked, his voice devoid of emotion. “This stuff just doesn’t happen in Equestria.”

“It is a lot to take on board,” Twilight admitted, “and it certainly hasn’t been easy for me to carry all this out. Blossomforth alone was a pain to deal with. I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect her to put up the fight she did when I came to collect her. Which reminds me…”

Twilight’s horn flashed and Pinkie saw from the corner of her eye the screen which once displayed Twilight’s face, change to show Blossomforth’s face, greyscale with a red X through it. The screen behind Twilight now displayed her own face in full colour.

“But hang on,” Redheart interrupted desperately, “this doesn’t make sense. How did you know Doughnut Joe would try to kill you first? If your plan hinged on you getting out of the way early, it left a lot to chance.”

“If you’re good at anticipating the pony mind,” Twilight began with a confident smirk, “it leaves nothing to chance.”

The room was utterly silent apart from Trixie’s continuing sobs. Giving a weary glance around, Pinkie saw the other three were hardly any better, displaying mixed looks betrayal and disillusionment.

“Now, I guess this just leaves one more thing,” Twilight announced, drawing Pinkie’s attention to the dials which were now glowing. “Of course, I will stay true to my word. If you all convict and kill me, you are free to go… bearing in mind that duress is not a defence for murder, and you will all be arrested and punished for the four ponies you had executed.

“Or, you can forfeit the game here and now. All the evidence of what occurred in this place will be destroyed and you will be allowed to live your lives, free from guilt and scorn. You won’t be free of course; I can’t risk you telling ponies of my involvement in this. No, you will be kept away from the world, secluded until Pinkie is ready to take her place at my side over Equestria.”

Pinkie looked around at the others; they all looked like shells of their former selves.

“It’s for the best,” Twilight continued in a motherly tone, “you’ll never be able to live normal lives again anyway. You’d never be able to return to your friends and families, when they hear about the things you’ve done, they’ll reject you, loathe you. I’m offering you the opportunity to live free of that, to let your loved ones remember you the way you were before you came here, isn’t that better for you? For them?”

Maybe she’s right… how can I face Flitter and tell her I sentenced her sister to death? How can I face anypony after this?

Pinkie slumped to her knees, but she felt her consciousness fall much farther, slipping into the dark depths of despair. All around her she saw the ponies she failed to save, fade away into the inky blackness, until she was all alone… but she wasn’t alone, Twilight was there. Her friend, Twilight Sparkle was still there for her. Pinkie wanted nothing more than to throw herself upon Twilight, to accept her offer, to be her friend forever and let all this go.

Pinkie wanted to do that, but somewhere in the back of her mind, a small voice was struggling to make itself heard.

So here you are again… ready to give up… ready to let down those you promised to save…

What am I supposed to do? Even if I could oppose Twilight, the others won’t… you were right, the Mastermind wins.

Where’s that excitable, fun loving Pinkie Pie I know? The one who lived to make other ponies smile.

Gone.

I don’t believe that. You made a promise that you wouldn’t change… I believe you’ll keep that promise.

Pinkie looked up, a sudden warmth growing in her chest as the voice spoke.

Tell me how…

Pinkie slowly rose to her hooves as Twilight watched her expectantly, waiting for a response. But Pinkie was also waiting for a response. Time seemed to stretch to an eternity as she waited for the voice; she began to fear it had left her again, and that she was to face this alone, until…

Give them hope.

Pinkie nodded, new determination burning inside of her as she looked Twilight squarely in the eye.

“Sorry, but I’m not forfeiting!” Pinkie announced, causing Twilight’s eyes to widen in surprise.

Lesson number four… know the pony.

Pinkie looked over at Soarin who was still standing with his shoulders slumped.

“Soarin,” Pinkie declared loudly, gaining his attention. “Remember the Wonderbolts' creed, the protection of all Equestria’s citizens. You told us you joined the Wonderbolt’s because you believed in that oath you took. You told me about how a friend once stayed loyal to you, well now it’s your turn to be the loyal one. Stay true to what you swore and protect Equestria’s citizens from her!”

The effect was instantaneous; it was as if the doubt had been washed away from his mind, replaced by newfound strength and determination.

“You’re right Pinkie,” Soarin replied, his voicing brimming with confidence, standing tall. “I have to do what’s right, even if I know I’ll be punished for it.”

With that he reached forward and turned his dial, Twilight’s face appearing on the screen behind him.

“Now hang on a second…” Twilight began, sounding a little confused by the direction things were heading in.

“Redheart,” Pinkie interrupted, drawing the nurse’s attention. “You told me you became a nurse to help ponies, well how do you expect to do that if you spend the rest of your life locked away? If you really feel responsible for what we’ve done, I can’t make you believe otherwise, but you can seek redemption in helping others. Besides, you made a promise to Cloudchaser; Flitter’s going to need somepony there for her now.”

Again the dark atmosphere around her was dispelled, and Redheart stood with newfound optimism.

“Of course Pinkie,” Redheart said sounding relieved. “I can’t hide from what I’ve done, but I might be able to make amends.”

Redheart too reached out and turned her dial, Twilight’s face also appearing behind her.

“This isn’t how I anticipated…” Twilight began to say again, sounding slightly panicked now.

“Fleur,” Pinkie cut across, getting Fleur’s gaze. “You’ve gone through a lot in your life; you’ve experienced more loss than anypony I know. But despite everything thrown at you, you had ponies watching over you, giving you their love and sometimes even their lives to see you through the hardships. You’ve come so far; don’t let all those sacrifices be in vain. Leave this place, go back to the land that welcomed you when you needed a home, and I promise they won’t turn their backs on you.”

The despair shattered around Fleur like glass, leaving hope in its place.

“Pinkie…” she began looking touched, before just smiling and letting her eyes close. “You’re right… as always.”

She too reached out and turned her dial, Twilight’s face manifesting behind her.

“Alright, now this is just getting…” Twilight attempted again, beginning to sound a little frustrated this time.

“Trixie,” Pinkie said cutting Twilight off once again. Trixie didn’t look up, she had long since ceased her crying, but she still lay crumpled on the floor, her head hanging low. Pinkie continued cautiously. “Trixie, I understand how you feel… to have someone you care about, more than words can express, turn on you. You do so much for them, and inside you still want to believe the pony you still loved is somewhere in there. But Trixie, you and I both have to accept that that pony is not the Twilight Sparkle we cared about, that pony’s gone. But we still have a duty to them, to preserve their memory, and… help set them free.”

Trixie didn’t respond, she didn’t even move, and Pinkie was beginning to dread that she wouldn’t rise to the occasion. However, Pinkie noticed a faint hue around Trixie’s horn, so weak it could have been imagined, but then Trixie’s dial began to turn, slowly but surely. After a few agonisingly drawn out moment, Trixie’s horn extinguished, and the screen behind her flashed into life, displaying Twilight’s face.

Pinkie turned to Twilight, who was looking back at her in disbelief.

“Why Pinkie?” she asked, sounding like Pinkie had just driven a knife into her back. “All I wanted was for us to be friends forever.”

“I wish I could believe that,” Pinkie replied sadly, “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, or what made you this way, but I do know… that I owe it to the Twilight I remember, to put a stop to you.”

Pinkie reached out with her forehoof.

“I’m so sorry Twilight,” she whispered, before turning the dial.

The screens all blanked, the oh so familiar ‘GUILTY’ screen appearing behind Twilight, beginning it’s slow rotation around the room, quickly picking up speed until it was nothing more than a blur.

“This…” Twilight began, her whole body shaking, looking like she was about to split apart. “This… Isn’t… Happening!”

The screen began slowing down, reaching an agonisingly slow pace. It clicked over Trixie’s head, it clicked over Trenderhoof’s screen, it clicked over Blueblood’s screen, and it came to a stop over Twilight’s screen. Immediately the usual fanfare began blaring out, but Pinkie didn’t hear it. All sound began fading out, the entire room washing away until she stood in an infinite plane of white, all alone but for the alicorn standing several metres from her.

Twilight stood in the endless abyss, her hooves apart, her wings limp, her head hanging down, what little of her face Pinkie could have seen, obscured by her mane.

“I thought,” Twilight began, her voice echoing around the endless void. “You were the one. I thought you were my equal, the one pony to stand by my side against the ever changing world…”

Twilight looked up at Pinkie, revealing her face… which was smiling, her eyes shiny with tears.

“I was wrong…” she said, her voice sounding intimately familiar, “You were so much more.”

Pinkie didn’t even have time to open her mouth before the world snapped back into focus around her, the courtroom rematerializing, just in time for her to feel the trembling running throughout the entire building.

The first thing that caught Pinkie’s eye was the dial in front of her. It was as if the glow that had previously been enveloping it had come to life, pulling itself free of the dial and rippling through the air towards Twilight. All the other dials did likewise, as did the runes on the floor. Soon there were dozens of multihued streams speeding towards Twilight. As soon as the first connected, it was like a punch to the stomach for Twilight, whose whole body jolted and the magic forced its way inside her.

Twilight began convulsing and twitching violently as more and more of the magic entered her. Her eyes rolled back in her skull and blood began running from her orifices. Pinkie knew what was happening; it was the very thing Redheart had diagnosed on their first day when Twilight tried to teleport, magic overload. It appeared all the spells Twilight had cast on the manor were turning back on her. And that meant…

Pinkie turned around just in time to flatten herself to the ground and brace herself against the magical wave that came pummelling through the archway. Pinkie held onto the banister in front of her for dear life, hoping the others were surviving against the churning ocean of mystic energy. Pinkie could feel it clinging to her, threatening to drag her away, to rip her to shreds. It was becoming near impossible to breath as the magic that once formed the shield and illusions around the house came pouring into this tiny enclosed space.

“PINKIE!” a voice shouted. Pinkie glanced around trying to place where it had come from, it had sounded so tiny amidst the all the screeching. Pinkie wondered if the magic was more comparable to a flood or a hurricane.

Eventually, Pinkie began to feel the pressure abate slightly, as the storm ran out of fuel. A few minutes later she was able to open her eyes to see the final wisps of magic flow overhead. Standing up, slowly as her limbs felt weak beneath her, Pinkie turned around. Despite the immense physical presence of the magic, the room looked pristine, no different from how it did before the execution begun.

What really drew Pinkie’s eyes however, was the body lying in a crumpled heap on the opposite end of the room. Rushing forward, barely aware the runes keeping her locked in position were now gone, Pinkie dashed over to where Twilight’s body lay, falling to her knees beside it.

Twilight’s body was horrible, her horn frayed and scorched, her eyes now scarlet orbs, the blood running down her face like waterfalls. Her entire body was cracked and torn, causing her to resemble a dried riverbed.

Pinkie didn’t look up when she heard hoofsteps approaching, but she knew it was Fleur when she spoke.

“Pinkie…” she began, her voice weak, “we should go.”

Pinkie nodded, she didn’t want to leave Twilight. Despite everything that had happened, she was still her friend, and she deserved more than this. But Pinkie knew she had to fulfil the promise she’d made to Lightning Dust, to herself, and see the others to safety.

Standing up slowly, Pinkie turned to look at the others. Neither Soarin or Redheart looked happy at winning the game, Pinkie knew they just wanted to leave. Fleur was the same, but she was waiting on Pinkie. Finally there was Trixie, who impossibly still hadn’t moved after she passed her vote, despite the force of the magic flooding into the room all around her.

“Go ahead,” Pinkie said to Fleur, gesturing to Trixie.

Fleur understood what Pinkie intended, and with a nod began walking out of the room, indicating for Soarin and Redheart to follow her. Once they were alone, Pinkie walked over to Trixie and crouched down next to her. She didn’t say anything, just waited for Trixie to speak in her own time.

“I envied her,” she finally said, her voice hoarse, “at first. She was everything I ever aspired to be, talented, successful, popular. I thought I hated her because of it, but even when she proved herself to be the bigger mare and forgave me for everything I did, I knew… she was the pony I aspired to be. We stayed in contact, I told her of my journeys, of my attempts to become stronger, to become wiser. She became my first true friend. Every day after I left, I wanted to return, to beg her to teach me, to nurture me. When she was coronetted, she didn’t see me but I was there, at the front of the crowd cheering like a lunatic. I would have given anything to be a fraction of what she was. But… clearly I wasn’t good enough for her.”

“Trixie,” Pinkie said calmly, “You couldn’t be more wrong.” Trixie looked up at Pinkie in confusion. “I know all about the letters you sent Twilight, she showed every one of them to us, to show us how much you’d come since we last saw you. The way she read them… I knew she was proud of you.”

Tears threatened to spill out of Trixie’s eyes, but she clenched them shut, determined not to let them fall.

“Thank you Pinkie…” Trixie said quietly, “you’re a good friend.”

They both stood up slowly, Pinkie having to help Trixie a little who was also finding herself a little wobbly on her hooves.

“Are you ready to go?” Pinkie asked.

“One minute,” Trixie said, walking past Pinkie to Twilight’s body.

Pinkie watched as Trixie leaned down over Twilight, whispering something she couldn’t hear. After a minute or two, Trixie finally returned to Pinkie, giving a small nod to indicate she was ready to leave. Together the pair walked out of the courtroom, ascending the staircase to where the other three waited at the still wide open doors in the entrance hall. As the pair joined them, they wordlessly stepped out the door and began making their way to the iron gates where this had all begun.

As they walked, they looked to the west, where the sun was half obscured by the horizon, the last light of the day radiating across the sky.

“Sunset…” Soarin said, sounding relieved. “I could watch it for ever.”

“It won’t last forever,” Pinkie commented.

The twilight couldn’t last forever…

As Pinkie watched the setting sun, her mind swam back to the final words Twilight said to her, in the voice she knew to belong to real Twilight, the one that had been speaking to her in her mind.

You were always there, deep down. The real you was helping me all along.

Pinkie smiled sadly, turning her gaze away as the sun set and the twilight came to an end.

Author's Notes:

The title of this chapter is a tribute to one of my all time favourite stories, let alone fanfictions.
First mention should of course go to Thesoulian, for correctly commenting quite a while back the identity of the Mastermind, I'm not even sure he was being serious at the time but too bad, he will accept this honour of being the first to correctly guess it whether he likes it or not.
Next, Shade7 for correctly figuring out Blossomforth was actually the first victim and by extension who the Mastermind was, such a shame I 'accidentally' deleted his comment.
And the last horse to cross the finish line is ClickClackTheBrony who came down on the correct culprit.
And now for the hardcore detectives...
Firstly we have Doppler Effect who did figure out the Twilight/Blossomforth connection... but then his theory went right off a cliff when he brought in Chrysalis and a mind controlled Pinkie Pie who killed Vinyl. So despite his theory being very hit and miss, I had to give him some credit for having figured out quite a few correct details, as well as devising his own very creative and highly plausible solution which I almost regret not thinking of myself.
And last but not least, we have Maple Leaf, who pretty much ticked every box and was the closest to being 100% right, even offering an interesting personal interpretation into Twilight's possible motives and psyche, if there was a first place prize, it would go to Maple Leaf, very well done.
An epilogue will be released shortly to clarify some things, as well as allow me to thank my readers.