//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2 - Party of Six 
// Story: Sisters in All but Blood 
// by scifipony 
//------------------------------//

The west castle courtyard, surrounded by white-brick gold-topped towers and cottages, had the skimpiest of all the castle ramparts.  Protected by the precipice that was the tall mountain that Canterlot itself was built-upon, only a decorative picket fence lay between the grounds and a half-mile drop to the Ponyville Plain.  A few pegasi guard patrolled the skies and kept the dirigible yachts and pleasure zephyrs outside the royal radius.  Moon Dancer could throw her party on the green sea of grass amongst pony-shaped topiary trees because she was the daughter of a duchess with lands aside Horseshoe bay.  Moon Dancer had become Princess Celestia's ward when when the princess' good friend had passed

The girls got ahead of me, beyond the trees.  I could hear Minuette say, “Hey Moon Dancer!  Look at this spread, huh?”

“Thank you so much for coming!”

I couldn’t get the connection between the wicked night mare and the cannibal winter-harbinger out of my mind.

“—miss one of our best friend’s parties, now would—”

“Is Twilight coming…oh, I see…”

Her tone struck me like a brick.  I bucked the clouds gathering in my mind and trotted into view.   The table had Lemon Hearts written all over it, from the chartreuse and yellow streamers, to the pink cloth, to the balloons and confetti stars.  Moon Dancer's strawberry cakes looked home-baked and frosted—lopsided and lumpy, and more impressive by the work that implied.  Some of the hay fries looked a bit burnt, but I could smell the rich molasses and lemons in the fizzy punch drink.   Moon Dancer had likely studied the recipes like she would have studied state changes in organic chemistry.  The kale, field greens, tomatoes, and carrots were arranged artfully like a provincial market stall.

The dejected red-maned buttercup-colored mare went from looking down and walking away, to effervescent. “Twilight!” she cried, dashing around the table.  She remembered herself when she got close, though.  “Hi.”

I said, “Hi.”

“I am glad you could come.”

“Me, too.”  

And we stood there looking at each other, Moon Dancer probably thinking as I did that there ought to be a party small talk 101 text somewhere.  Funny how much we were alike: We liked studying and problem solving.  We were both runts, both smaller than petite Minuette.  We both had two purple stripes in our mane and tail.  When she refused to wear her glasses, which was most of the time, ponies remarked we had similar “bone structure.”  We were practically sisters in all but blood, except that she came from wealth that could pay for schooling and I came from wealth of love and not much more, here thanks only to a full-boat scholarship.  Our similarities were probably the reason Celestia asked, cajoled, and finally all but ordered me to befriend her ward.  

Lunettes made a good study buddy.  (My nickname for her also means glasses.  Whether you agree or not, puns are a type of wit.)

“You two!” Lemon Hearts said, breaking the awkward silence.  Magenta magic reached out to crystal punch cups, plates, and napkins.  All at once, a dozen or more items of food and drink collected and poured themselves, and swished out unerringly to each party-goer.  If there was one magic Hearts was good at, it was levitating things regardless of number or weight.  Best anyone could guess, her cutie mark hearts had to do with strength and multi-tasking.

Both of us caught a punch.  I got hay fries and Lunette some strawberry cake, with fragrant double-frosting. 

Hearts strode up with five different things orbiting over her back.  “And so,” she continued, “Would you be-lieve that Twilight has a lot of studying to catch up on, thanks to our favorite princess?”

“Our only princess,” Lunettes amended, magic briefly appearing above her nose, where her glasses ought be.  She was myopic, not that she ran into things, much.

“Just look at this,” Hearts said, grabbing the new book.  Within minutes, the six of us lay on the lawn, hooves gathered under us, eating like little piglets and taking turns leafing through the book and commenting about the circumstances of its delivery.

“And it’s even more mysterious,” Harps—that was my nickname for Lyra Heartstrings—said as she cantered into the party.  Spike, heavily loaded with books and scrolls, bumped along on her back.  “The little guy has talented little hands.  You should be proud of him.”

“Aww—” he said.

I cut Spike off, before he could encourage her further, asking him, “—so you found something?”

“Hard not to, Twilight, with your detailed notes and cross-references.  Say, could I have some— yow!”  He ducked as a punch cup and cake rocketed to a halt inches from his hands.  “Uh, thanks.”

“No problem,” Hearts said.  (Lemon Heart.)

“Look at this.  Elements of Harmony.”  He opened a book to a page that talked about magical gems linked with a prophesy, and a cross-reference to, “Lunar Tales and Crazes, which I had out because of your folklore project.  Read this.”  He picked a strawberry off his plate, licked his claws, and opened another book, then continued out loud, “The Mare in the Moon, myth from olden pony times. A powerful pony who wanted to rule Equestria, defeated by the Elements of Harmony and imprisoned in the moon. Legend has it that on the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape, and she will bring about nighttime—”

“Eternal!” I cried.

Harps said, “Ooo,” and visibly shuddered.  “Too much coincidence!”

Lunettes and I looked each other in the eye.  The same instant, we said, “Nightmare Moon.”

Minuette said, “Jinx!”  We all groaned reflexively.

“The mare in the moon—” I said.

“—is nightmare moon,” Lunettes completed.  “And the 1000th year anniversary is tomorrow.  I don’t believe in coincidence.”

I was up and pacing in a circle around them, their heads and eyes following my worried promenade.  “Am I right here?  Am I seeing something or am I deluding myself?  Why would Celestia want my predecessor to have this book on this specific day?  Ughh!  I’m missing something!”

“You aren’t,” Lunettes said.  The others concurred.

I stopped.  We never agreed on anything.  I huffed.  “Spike, take a letter.”  Within a few minutes, our group missive was ready, delayed only by spelling out "precipice" and "imperative."  I was getting him a spelling book when this was over.  He spit out a curl of green flame.  The glowing cinders turned to gray smoke that spiraled up and out toward the main castle keep.

It wasn’t five minutes later when a large shadow passed over us.  To a one, we jumped away from its path in instinctual fear of a soaring predator.  Perhaps if we spent more time with pegasi, we’d get over that.  Huge white wings braked with a familiar thunder as Princess Celestia alighted on the green within our circle.  I curtsied on one knee as she folded her wings.  She wore her full regalia of a jeweled crown and breastplate, and sharp fleur-de-lis golden horseshoes that would be dangerous in a fight.  

“Twilight Sparkle…, Lady Moon Dancer.”

When I looked up, my friends had shrunk back and still held a stiff bow.  That I had summoned the princess, instead of the other way around, spoke tons to the tension and awe they displayed.   I wasn't special; it was the situation, surely.  I met her magenta eyes as her parti-color mane swirled in an ethereal wind.  She seemed oddly pleased.  “Your majesty.” 

“Are these your friends?”

I didn’t have a good definition for the word, but said, “Yeah.”  As the princess scanned plates of half-eaten sugary and fried foods, scrolls, and stacked open books, I added, “From school.”

“My dearest, most faithful student. You know that I value your diligence…and that I trust you completely…”

I felt my cheeks heat as they undoubtedly turned bright red.

The princess nudged the copy of Myth and Sciences with a hoof.  “But you simply must stop reading these dusty old books!”

Minuette exploded in laughter and fell hooves up.  

While the others looked in horror, the princess walked over and looked down at the cackling blue pony who had tears streaming out of her eyes.  She said, “I gather, you concur?”

“I—I couldn’t have said it better, your majesty.”

Celestia turned to me and mouthed, “I like this one.”

I just sputtered.  “B—but, but, we’re on the p—precipice of disaster—”

Loudly, the princess said, “As I was saying, there is more to a young pony’s life than studying, though doing so at a party does seem innovative, however I have a more important task for you, Twilight Sparkle.”  She looked over her shoulder to a dainty white messenger bag emblazoned with her solar cutie mark and levitated out a scroll in her cornflower-colored magic.  She unrolled it in front of me, and it displayed a wax seal, official royal purple ribbons, and her florid signature.   “I need you to go to Ponyville and oversee the arrangements for the Summer Sun Celebration.”

I read it and said, “You’re appointing me as your crown representative?”

Lunettes commented, “Twilight Sparkle is the most organized pony I’ve met.”

“Indeed, Lady,” the princess said.

“I’m nineteen.”

“And it is about time my protege do something besides study.”  She smiled at everypony in turn, then added, “And take your friends.  They will prove an asset.  I’ve arranged accommodations at the Golden Oaks Library for you, but you may use my name to pay for anything else you need within reason.  There’s transportation waiting in the main courtyard as soon as you can pack.”  She flared her wings.

“Wait!” I cried, stopping the princess from leaping into the air.  “I understand my duty, but you read my letter.  The mythical Mare in the Moon is Nightmare Moon, and I’ve got solid evidence she’s about to return to Equestria, tomorrow.”

The princess shuddered.  Though she rarely raised her voice in anger, I had managed to incur her wraith once or twice.  What happened that moment absolutely could not be construed as anger, though it would have been her royal right.  Her mouth moved, and though it might have been the heat of the afternoon, a shimmer blurred her lips as she chewed on words that didn’t come out.  She took a visible deep breath and said, “I.  Cannot.  Talk about it.”  She flapped her wings and hovered, looking away from us all, adding, “You are my only crown representative.  Go to Ponyville.”

She teleported away with a bang.

Harps said, “That was very odd.  Her lips blurred.”

Twinkie said, "That's because she's cursed."  (That was Twinkleshine, by the way.)

Everypony but Harps said, "What?"

Harps started bouncing up down.  "Crystals!  The pony protagonist touched a cursed artifact and became possessed by the wrath of a demon who started a conspiracy to enslave the world!"

"There's no such thing as a curse."

"It was a best seller!"

Twinkie said, "I'm taking Meta-ology and Spell Optimization.  Modern nomenclature uses the word 'curse' to refer to a class of spells that rely on contagion and usually consist of parasitic self-reinforcing syntax.  They often trigger on behavior and are cast in anger, usually as punishment. "

The blurring was undoubtedly magic and it looked involuntary. "You think she's under a cur—spell?"

Everpony said, "Uh-huh" and Harps added, "And only the best villain could affect an Alicorn."

I nodded. "Which brings us back to the the books Celestia just dismissed, and the bothersome timing of it all."

Lunettes pushed up her non-existent glasses and said, "You've missed the most important clue."

I blinked at her.

"The crown representative speaks for the crown, gives the princess' orders by Her commission with Her full authority.  Look at that scroll. You act in her stead.  The only other alicorn in Equestria is not a princess.  As the only C. R., in her absence—in a succession crisis—you'd become the crown regent.  A princess in all but blood."

I had to blink away threatening tears.  How could she!  "I'm not qualified!"

"Don't worry. The peerage would fight it."

"Why would Princess Celestia do that?"

"She's cursed?" Twinkie hazarded.

Harps added, "And she knows it.  Oh, my."  She practically vibrated.  Even so, I could tells Harps worked hard to not sound enthused. 

The full implication hit me.  A chill traveled along my spine and prickled my scalp.  My fur must have risen because everybody looked at me as I said, "The Princess has known about it for at least ten years and has been unable to communicate about it."

Harps said, "Oh, oh, oh! And it is a double conspiracy!  She's been secretly training us to be able to save her and all Equestria!"

Minuette corrected Harps.  "Mostly you, Twilight."

In a monotone, Lunettes added, "If this proves wrong, it's going to be embarrassing."

Twinkie smiled. "We'll just blame Lyra."

"Fall pony, yet again. So what's the master plan?"