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// It Ignited 
// Story: The Last Mark 
// by Idyll 
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I had teleported Cozy her dinner: my best attempt at her pasta recipe; she said it tasted like horse apples. My daughter used to love my cooking; was she lying before or now? 

I went to bed early to avoid thinking about it, but my knockout spell wore out at 3 AM. It would be unhealthy to cast it on myself again, but the sad emptiness was overwhelming. Never could I have imagined that my daughter would turn out this way, and what was I supposed to do? She’ll get over it, right? Only time will tell. Whether it takes days or months, I promise you, Cozy, you’ll get better.

Until then, I can’t send her back to school. Maybe I should homeschool her instead. I’m teacher material; that could work. Her bow informed me of how brainwashed her teachers were. They basically worship Celestia, to the point where her portrait hangs between the announcement speakers.

It was quiet, and not because of my spells. I’ve never slept by myself since the day I first held Cozy.

…

I should talk to her. It’ll be a bad start to the day if she wakes up in that closet. She needs to know that I still care about her and have faith that we’ll get through this together.

I rolled out of my covers and stood on the floor. My hooves touched a puddle. Now that my senses were back online, I smelled something—chemical—in the air and coming from the liquid around my hooves. My horn’s torch revealed that the leak wasn’t exclusive to one spot. Our clothes and papers were soaked. The sides of my bed, and only the sides, were dripping. 

We had to get out of here. I used a spell to unlock Cozy’s door, but that wasn’t necessary. On the other side of the keyhole, two of her feathers stuck out.

There wasn’t a letter on my desk or a drawing to say goodbye. My daughter wasn’t in the closet. Once dread struck my stomach, I barely processed the blast. 

The air ignited. Puddles of gasoline flambeed. I stood shocked under my shield, but my bubble included a section of the floor; flames rose up to my knees and ruined my tail before I could cast a counter. A wisp of my extinguishing spell suffused into the space inside my bubble.

Something must’ve caused the gas to ignite. I open the door out of the bedroom, also to check whether her rook was still in its jar. A canister fell, previously propped against the door, and rolled to my hoof in an arc, the one I ordered before my world ended.

It was only half empty. The canister exploded.

My daughter wants me dead.