//------------------------------// // Chapter Forty-Seven - Fixated Vision // Story: A Daughter and her Dragon // by Level Dasher //------------------------------// “So, Cotton, as you can see—” An orange-coated nurse walked Cotton through the repurposed ballroom, courtesy of Discord. “—everypony here is healing up quite nicely. All thanks to you.” Each pony on a bed was breathing normally, smiles across their faces, despite their various bandages and splinted limbs. Cotton managed to lift the corners of her muzzle as she looked around at all the eased soldiers. “It wasn’t all me; Uncle Discord applied the healing spells.” “Yes, but he needed your cookies to deliver them. If he had tried healing each pony here one at a time, we would have been taking more soldiers than we could count every minute. Your cookies allowed him to apply the enchantments once and then go back for more, which allowed us to keep the process going faster by distributing them ourselves. Most of the soldiers that were here have already returned to their barracks for rest.” Letting out a sigh, Cotton responded, “I’m just glad I could help.” “Oh, did you ever, ‘cuz.”   Cotton’s ears perked up as she heard a familiar voice, then she spotted a scarlet-gray stallion laying down two beds ahead of her. “Novamac!” She galloped to his bedside, and found him lying on his right side, a large bandage wrapped around his lower back. “Are you okay? What happened?” “Not much. Just a graze on m’left side,” he replied, tilting his head upward with a wince. “Miss Nightingale there’s just bein’ a mite cautious.” “‘Graze’ my hoof,” Nightingale barked. “That was a two-inch deep gash! You needed stitches!” Cotton scrunched up her muzzle. “Yeesh. Yeah, Nightshade would probably be on Nightingale’s side here. Hey, how is—” “I’m fine.” A noctis suddenly dropped from the ceiling and landed behind the head of Novamac’s bed. “And I am. Thank you, Nurse Nightingale.” She smiled and nodded to the nurse, who returned the gesture. “My husband can be a little thick.” “Nightshade!” Cotton grinned and ran around the bed to give the mare a hug, then she leaned back and looked at her closely. “Wow, not even a scratch.” Nightshade smiled again as she shook her head. “Nope. Got lucky. Real lucky.” She pouted. “Only downside is I didn’t get to have one of your cookies.” “What? Why not?” Cotton asked, turning to Nightingale. The nurse blushed. “Sorry, Cotton, we saved them for the soldiers that were badly injured, like the Sergeant here…” Novamac grinned. “S’only reason I ain’t screamin’ about now.” “…and the rest went to the soldiers with lesser injuries. Like Nightshade said, though, there isn’t a scratch on her.” “Oh. Okay, yeah, I guess that’s fair,” Cotton said. Turning to Nightshade with a smile, she said, “Don’t worry, I’ll make more.” With a light chuckle, Nightshade responded, “Thanks, I’d love one. Or two.” She shrugged. “Or five.” “Here here!” said Novamac, causing Cotton to giggle. “To Cotton an’ her magic cookies!” he called out with another wince. “To Cotton!” the rest of the soldiers chorused, the shout reverberating around the room. Cotton’s cheeks reddened, then she looked at the noctis again. “Hey, Nightshade, how’s Anathem?” She looked around the room for a moment before she continued, “I don’t see him in here; did he go back to the barracks, too?” Nightshade stared across the room, then let out a deep breath as she closed her eyes. Her ears drooped only slightly before she shook her head. Novamac frowned as he started lifting his left hoof toward her. “M’sorry, Hon. I know you two w—” “Put your hoof down, you’ll rip out the stitches,” Nightshade snapped, forcing his foreleg back down. Then she sighed. “Sorry, Nova.” With a sad smile, he responded, “S’alright, Hon. You’re allowed.” Cotton gasped as her hoof lifted to her muzzle. “Oh no…Nightshade, I’m so sorry.” Nightshade held her features like a brittle, marble mask; she nodded slowly. “One of the others said they saw it. Lucky strike. He was an easy target after they sliced half of his wing in mid-air.” Cotton’s other hoof shot up as she cringed at the thought. “Oh my g—” “So Cotton!” Nightshade loudly cleared her throat. “How is your father doing? I heard he took a pretty big hit.” Knowing to leave well enough alone, Cotton nodded slowly and let out a breath. “He’s…alright, from what I saw. Dr. Cross forced me out before he started doing anything with the harpoon, though. Auntie Tia, too, but Aunt Luna’s in there keeping an eye on him while he’s sleeping.” Ж “Rarity! Rarity!” Spike called, his wings carrying him as fast as they could. He could see the massive flames inching closer and closer to his wife’s boutique, and he couldn’t tell if he would make it in time. Just then, the tree he was flying over burst into flames and shot an ember into his side. “AHHH! Dammit! I can’t get slowed down now!” As he looked forward once again and continued his flight, he saw the flames cross the threshold from the neighbors’ home to Rarity’s shop. “No no no no no RARITYYYY!” He could see Rarity standing in front of a large hole in the wall of the neighbors’ home on the upper floor. Just as the flames were about to engulf her, he somehow pushed forth a burst of energy, reaching out his claws before he cupped them around his wife, and the fires passed over his scales like a wave breaking over the shore. He quickly retracted his claws from the building and turned from the flames, looking for someplace to put her down. When he found no place that wasn’t aflame or risked becoming so, he beat his wings in the direction the fire had come from, hoping to beat it back. The flames rapidly retreated. He continued down the line of buildings, flapping the fire back from whence it came before it dissipated into thin air, leaving the city much calmer in the evening air. Satisfied that everything appeared to have eased, he dropped to the ground near a group of trees before laying his claws down and uncupping them, revealing a sweating, panting Rarity. “Oh… Spikey… Wikey… you…” “Rarity… Save your breath,” Spike told her, letting out a deep breath of his own as he carefully laid her down so she could lie on the grass. He then lay down on the ground beside her at eye level. Rarity did as he told her, using her breathing to calm her racing mind. After a short eternity, she shakily stood up and walked toward Spike’s muzzle, then let herself fall against his cheek as she closed her eyes and smiled. “Thank you, my darling. I didn’t know if you’d make it.” Spike basked in the warmth of her touch, also closing his eyes. “Honestly, neither did I.” “We didst not doubt thy capabilities, Sir Spike.” Spike looked up to see the Princess of the Night descending upon him and his wife. “Luna! What brings you out here?” “…We witnessed thee beating back the flames. We are most impressed, and wished to grant thee congratulations for saving thy wife and all of Canterlot.” Spike chuckled. “Well, thank you, Luna, but…” He winced as he looked down at his side. “Ah…” “What’s the matter, darling?” Rarity asked him. Letting out a brief growl, he answered, “I got burned on the way to get you. I don’t understand, I’m supposed to be fireproof.” “…We are certain the pain shall pass,” Luna said. “Hopefully,” Spike responded. “Luna, would you mind… uh…” He shifted his eyes between looking at her and Rarity. Luna nodded. “Ah yes, thou dost wish to spend this time with thy wife without prying eyes. The both of thee are clearly tired. We shall… let ye rest.” Rarity smiled. “Thank you, Princess Luna.” “Thou art most welcome, Lady Rarity,” Luna responded, before flying back towards the castle. Spike and Rarity both lay back against each other, closing their eyes as they just reveled in the other’s presence. They did not notice what had just risen in the sky. Princess Luna’s namesake, bearing the silhouette of the Mare in the Moon. Ж Cotton lay on her bedspread, her mind awash with thoughts, both positive and negative. She was elated her aunts came back only slightly used. But what about her father? Was he really going to be okay? It felt incredible to help the Royal Guard in a way only she could, even if she couldn’t save everyone. But what about him, the one she never expected to see on the battlefield? She turned over and looked at her bedside table. An empty inkwell sat there with a brown feather sticking out. How could he do this? Why would he do it? He even said he didn’t want to be a soldier in his letters. And now… She stared at the feather for a few minutes, then frowned as a tear fell to her sheets. Getting off the bed, Cotton walked to her closet and opened the doors. She reached down to the floor and withdrew a box, holding numerous opened envelopes. She put the box on her bed, then took the empty inkwell and feather and tossed them into the box. Picking it up again, she went back to her closet, moved her dresses aside, then returned the box to the floor and pushed it all the way to the back wall. After putting her dresses back in their proper places, she closed the doors and hopped back on her bed. Then she turned over and closed her eyes.