A Hearth's Warming Carol

by Jay David

Rating: teen
Tags: Sweetie Belle, Sad, Other, Nightmare Moon, Pinkie Pie, Crossover, Pipsqueak, Tragedy, Random, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 19490

An elderly stallion is visited by three spirits

It is the winter holidays once more, and almost everypony is enjoying it. But for one lone stallion, things are less cheerful. However, on the eve of that special day, he is visited by the spirit of his old business partner, who warns him that his selfish and greedy life will condemn him in ways he cannot possibly imagine.

So, on this one night, the old stallion is led on a journey by three visiting spirits, each of whom will show him his past, present and future, in the hopes that he will change his ways for the better, before it is too late.

Cover art by Siansaar.

Published 2014-12-01 17:10:11 UTC
Last updated 2014-12-13 06:57:31 UTC

A Bitter Evening

Seven winters had come and gone since that day, and life carried in as it always did, with ponies living and going about their days as if nothing had ever happened. And so it was that another Hearth's Warming Eve approached within the great metropolis of Manehattan. Night had crept over the sky long ago, and snow had begun it's yearly fall, blanketing much of the city in a thick white coat. Throughout this place, mares, stallions and foals all busied themselves with preparations for the coming holiday, and the whole place was abuzz with excitement and joy. That is, save for one place. For on the outskirts of the city was a small and relatively run-down business office, which had the distinct look of having seldom been updated with new licks of paint or anything that would give it an appealing appearance. Atop the front door were inscribed the words "S & S Moneylenders", although those words too had faded with the passing of years.

Within this shabby-looking place was more-or-less a single room, divided by low wooden walls, sectioning off three separate areas. The first was the "welcome" area, where customers would presumably enter. The second was a very small office, no bigger than a prison cell, inside which was a middle-aged earth pony stallion, sitting at his desk and working. And finally there was a larger, though no better furnished office, owned by none other than Mr Scrounger, to whom the passing of these last seven years had not been kind. His face bore of look of near-constant disdain and his eyes focused only on the many rolls of parchment before him, all of which held many confusing-looking numbers. All in all, this was not a happy place, especially at this time of year.

What made it all the worse was the cold. With only a few lit candles here and there, there was barely enough heat to even be noticed, and a visitor might be forgiven for thinking this place was just as cold as the snowy scene outside. The younger stallion, frantically rubbing his hooves together near his own small candle, was particularly bothered by his, though one glance up at his employer made it clear to him that voicing such concerns would have most likely been dismissed. So, he merely concerned himself with his own papers, though the nipping at his hooves hardly made it a pleasant experience. However, the dour and solemn tone of this scene was starkly interrupted by the sudden sound of the front door opening. Entering the tiny building was a younger earth pony stallion, with a red scarf wrapped around his neck and a massive smile upon his face. Looking around, it wasn't long before he caught sight of Scrounger.

"Ah! Happy Hearth's Warming Eve, Uncle!"

The elderly stallion glanced up from his work to acknowledge his nephew's presence, though it was a very brief, as he soon carried on looking down at his numbers.

"Happy? Bah, humbug!"

The younger stallion looked somewhat taken aback by that declaration, but soon shrugged it off as he approached his relative. Scrounger meanwhile merely spoke in a tone of annoyance as he heard his nephew's approaching hoofsteps.

"What cause do you have to be happy? You're poor enough."

The younger stallion chuckled at that.

"Then what right do you have to be so dismal? You're rich enough."

Scrounger gave a dark look to his nephew before carrying on with his work. Letting out a sigh, the latter spoke up.

"Oh, don't be like that, Uncle. It's a good time of year. You should enjoy it."

Scrounger kept looking at his parchment as he answered back.

"So you keep telling me. Every year, I should point out. It becomes tiresome quite quickly, Prancer."

The nephew, Prancer, merely scoffed at that.

"Uncle, Hearth's Warming even is one of the most enjoyable times of the year! Just look out into the street and see how happy ponies are with the holiday a mere night's sleep away!"

It was here that Scrounger looked up, his expression no less disdainful than it had been since Prancer arrived.

"I do see them! That's all I ever see at this season, nephew. I would like nothing more than to stop seeing it!"

The old stallion's expression became, if possible, even more aggressive as he lifted himself out of his chair.

"If I could work my will, every fool who went about with "Happy Hearth's Warming Eve" upon their lips would be boiled in their own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through their hearts!"

As one might expect from a declaration like that, both Prancer and the other stallion, who had been quietly working this whole time, looked upon him with looks of shock, utterly aghast that anypony would say such a thing about a day like this upcoming holiday. Scrounger, seeing this look on both their faces, relaxed his aggression somewhat, though his face did not lose it's sour look as he caught sight of the other stallion.

"If you have something to say, Bob, then please, say it!"

The stallion, Bob, quickly got back to his wok, trying desperately to avoid his employer’s gaze. However, it was here that Prancer finally paid attention to the cowering stallion.

"Bob, is it?"

The stallion looked up nervously from his parchment before answering back.

"Um...yes, Sir?"

Prancer smiled at him before offering a hoof.

"A pleasure to meet you."

Bob looked upon the hoof with a look that made it clear that he was unused to being shown any such courtesy in this place, though given his employer that was not difficult to understand. Nevertheless, he reached out and shook it as offered, giving a warm smile in return.

"Thank you, Sir. Nice to meet you too."

Prancer tilted his head upon hearing that.

"That is not a Manehattan accent, is it?"

Bob shook his head.

"No, Sir. I'm from Ponyville."

Prancer looked quite taken aback by that.

"Ponyville?! My, that is quite a commute!"

He turned back towards his Uncle as the latter spoke up.

"The stallion cannot help where the work is, nephew. And speaking of work, I'd prefer it if you let him get back to his. I don't pay him to idly chat with my relatives."

Getting the message, Bob, quickly got back to his work, much to the annoyance of Prancer, who looked upon his uncle before letting out a sigh. It was clear to anypony that this old stallion wasn't going to cheer up, at least not by simply asking him to, as Prancer had done. Wracking his brain, the younger stallion tried to think of something to try and get his uncle to come out of his shell on this matter, and it was not long before the spark of an idea emerged in his mind, allowing him to smile once more.

"I say! Uncle! Why don't you come around for dinner with my wife and me this year?"

Scrounger looked up, looking both annoyed and surprised at the offer.

"Why in Equestria did you ever get married?"

Prancer looked upon him as if that was the most ridiculous thing anypony could ask. But, he knew he wasn't going to get out of this without some kind of answer, and so he did what he always did in situations such as this. He spoke from the heart.

"Why? Because I fell in love!"

At first, Scrounger looked upon his nephew with a look that made it obvious that he thought it was a fairly pathetic reason. But, as the moments passed by, that expression changed. Prancer wouldn't have thought it possible given what he knew of his Uncle, but that was unmistakeably a look of sadness upon his face. Perhaps even regret, though of what, Prancer could not say. Scrounger said nothing, merely getting back into his chair slowly. He could no longer look upon his nephew, at least not at the moment, and so carried on with his work. Prancer looked upon him, knowing that, perhaps, now was not the right time to speak to him. As such, he merely nodded at him one final time before making his way outside, acknowledging a goodbye wave from Bob with a smile as he did so.

Scrounger would have loved nothing more than for that to be the end of things, but it was only a few minutes after the departure of his relative that the door opened once again. Looking up, Scrounger saw that it was not his nephew come again, but a pair of mares. One was a mint-green unicorn and the other a cream-coloured earth pony. Both of them were dressed for winter and were shaking off what little snow they had accumulated outside before looking around. Once they saw Scrounger, they quickly guessed that he was in charge and began to approach him. It was the earth pony who spoke first.

"Good afternoon, Sir. Would you be Mr Scrounger or Mr Scrimper?"

Scrounger narrowed his eyes somewhat upon hearing that.

"Mr Scrimper is dead. Has been for seven years now."

Both mares realised that they'd just created a rather awkward situation, and so looked at each other nervously. Clearing her throat a little, the mare from before spoke up again.

"Ah, then you have my apologies, Mr Scrounger. My name is Bonbon, and this is my friend, Lyra. We are residents of Ponyville, here in Manehattan on a mission of charity."

Upon hearing that, Scrounger looked rather taken aback by that, as if it were unthinkable that anypony would approach him about such a matter. But he said nothing, instead listening to what the mares had to say.

"After the Changeling invasion of Canterlot, many children were left without their parents. My friend and I, as well as dozens of others, been doing all we can to try and raise enough to help them out. So we've been approaching several business owners, such as yourself, to help us in this."

Scrounger looked away from them briefly before speaking in a low tone.

"Do these colts and fillies not already have somewhere to take care of them?"

Bonbon nodded at that.

"Oh yes, there are several orphanages. But many of the biggest and best of them were also dealt a serious blow by the invasion, and have yet to be repaired."

The mares looked upon Scrounger, who was still looking away, before glancing at each other with no small degree of nervousness. There was just something about this stallion that made them feel ill at ease, though they could not really put into words what that was. Still, after composing herself, Bonbon spoke once more.

"So...how much might we put you down for?"

It was here that Scrounger finally looked at them again, though his expression was far from happy.

"Nothing."

Although taken aback by that, Bonbon nevertheless did not wish to jump to conclusions.

"Oh, you wish to remain anonymous?"

Scrounger's expression became even more angered.

"I wish to be left alone! I will not fund lowly children who have yet to benefit me or anypony else. You say there are orphanages? Then send them there."

Bonbon stood there, shocked at what she'd just heard, as evidenced by her hushed tone as she replied to that.

"Sir...those orphanages are in a terrible state! Not fit for anypony to live there. The children...some of them would rather die than be sent to condemned buildings such as that."

Scrounger's voice was a furious one as he gave his final word on the matter.

"If they'd rather die then they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population!"

Both mares stood aghast at the words they'd just heard from this stallion, staring in silence as he got back down in his seat and began to occupy himself yet again with his substantial paperwork. Lyra, rightly so, became enraged over what this guy had just said to them, and looked as if she was about to just attack him right there. Fortunately for all concerned, Bonbon held out a hoof and stopped her. Giving her friend a look, it was clear to Lyra that starting a fight wasn't going to help anypony, much to the latter's annoyance. Instead, Bonbon merely nodded at Mr Scrounger, not wishing to give him the benefit of a spoken farewell, and led her friend out of the building. Bob, who frankly had also been dismayed at his employer's words, nevertheless remained silent, though a quick glance made it clear to Scrounger that he was uncomfortable with what had just occurred.

So, the minutes rolled on by, and the two continued with their respective work. Eventually, it reached a point where the hourly chiming on the nearby clock began to sound, and Scrounger checked his own pocket-watch before narrowing his eyes at his employee.

"I assume you'll want tomorrow off, Mr Apples?"

Bob looked up from his work, a little surprised at that.

"Well...if it's not too much trouble, Sir."

Scrounger scoffed at that before getting up, prompting Bob to do the same before the former carried on speaking.

"Nopony else is working tomorrow, so I suppose I can't expect you to be here. Waste of time if you ask me. A whole twenty-four hours and nopony working."

Bob, knowing his employers views on the matter quite well at this point, chose instead to not voice his contrary thoughts. Instead, he simply took solace in the fact that Mr Scrounger was offering him what could well be considered a Hearth's Warming gift, though he'd never say so to his face. Watching, he saw Scrounger pick up a nearby set of keys and opened the front door, leading to Bob following him outside before the former closed it. After a brief moment of locking up, Scrounger looked upon his lone employee before speaking in a somewhat menacing tone.

"Just make sure to be here all the earlier the next day, understood?"

The younger stallion did not answer, but nodded enthusiastically, making it clear that he got the point. Scrounger grumbled a bit at that and began to walk away to his home, unaware that his employee was secretly smiling to himself at another day done. Scrounger, after walking just a few steps away from his building, muttered to himself.

"What a day. I could use a peaceful night's sleep after all this."

A Ghostely Visit

The air had grown ever colder as Scrounger made his way down the darkened and empty streets. The place he lived was not much further from where he worked, but at his age every step was difficult. The snow had grown thick by this point and the sound of him walking upon it was loud, though he was largely ignoring such things at this point. All he wanted was to get home and get some rest. Eventually, he reached his abode, a modestly-sized apartment block on the outskirts of the city. Looking up, Scrounger could see that there were no lights in any of the windows. Everypony must be asleep by now, he thought to himself, and so he focused instead on reaching the front door. As he approached it, he gazed upon the familiar brass knocker that decorated it. An ugly piece of metal, but functional all the same.

As Scrounger reached up to turn the knob of the door, he could have sworn that he heard something behind him. Spinning as fast as his old legs would allow, Scrounger looked behind him, only to see that there was nopony there. His eyes darted from left to right, trying to see if there was some potential intruder hiding under the cover of darkness. But even with his failing eyesight, Scrounger could see that there was nopony. Letting out a sigh, the old stallion began to turn back towards the door. But once he did, he froze when he actually caught sight of it. The knocker was still there, but it had changed, morphed it's shape into what Scrounger recognised immediately as the face of a pony. Old and withered, the face was that of a stallion, whose gaze pierced Scrounger.

The stallion felt no small amount of worry as he looked upon it, though his confusion and nervousness was made all the worse as the once-still face before him suddenly moved, opening it's mouth and letting out a blood-curdling scream. Scrounger backed away immediately, dropping to his four knees and even going so far as to almost bury his face in the snow. His eyes clenched shut, Scrounger listened as the screaming continued for several long moments. But, after a long while, the terrible sound finally stopped, and the stallion opened his eyes to see what had happened. To his surprise, the face had vanished, leaving behind only the usual knocker instead. Slowly, he got back to his hooves and nervously approached the door, trying to make sure that this wasn't some trick of his eyes. When he was sure that the door was back to normal, his expression became one of disdain as he let out a groan.

"Humbug."

Reaching for his keys, Scrounger opened the door and entered. Much like his office, this place was dark and cold, which was expected given that everypony was probably fast asleep at this point. Letting out a sigh, Scrounger looked around the entrance hall, perhaps hoping that somepony was about, trying to trick him with that doorknob stunt. But when he saw nopony there, his face twisted into one of slight concern as he began to make his way upstairs. His old bones didn't help with his walking up the several floors, but he eventually reached the doors of his apartment. Opening it, he was sure to use the many locks that adorned his door. If there was somepony about, he didn't want them getting in. With that settled, he began to get undressed, placing his suit and hat with the closet of his room before donning his traditional sleeping attire, a simple night cap.

However, he was not one to go to bed without some sort of evening meal, and so he got himself a small plate of hay and daisies from the fridge, before sitting himself down on the large armchair that stood in front of the small fireplace there. Being the kind of stallion he was, the fire was never that big, lest he have to pay for too much wood. In fact, it was barely enough to light and heat the area around his chair, much less the rest of the apartment. Still, Scrounger wasn't concerned by this, and so he began to eat his meal quietly. This went on for several minutes, until the stallion was interrupted by a familiar sound. Looking up, he saw that it was the bell hanging above his front door. It was there to signal him if anyone came to greet him, but the ringing had been brief, and hardly the prolonged sound he was used to.

But that soon changed when, mere moments after the first ring, a second came. But this one was longer, and far louder. Louder than the bell should have been. Scrounger looked on with nervousness and worry as that tiny bell let out an endless volley of ringing that disturbed him greatly. But, as soon as he raised his hooves to cover his ears and drown out the sound, it stopped. He looked up at the bell, and saw it stand still. Much like the doorknob from earlier, Scrounger tried reasoning with himself, telling himself that this was all some sort of trick his mind was playing on him. But that train of thought was once more derailed as a new sound began to make itself known to him. It was the unmistakeable sound of the door of the apartment block opening with a loud creak before closing. Even all the way on this floor, Scrounger knew it well.

He remained in his seat as his ears struggled to try and listen in on what was going on downstairs. He did not have to wait long for that though, as the sound of hoofsteps rising up the stairs could now be heard. But something else was mixed in with it. Something metallic perhaps? Whatever it was, it was scraping along the stairs, and from the fact that the noise was growing louder and louder, Scrounger knew it was coming closer to his level. With every passing moment, the hoofsteps grew closer, and as they did, so too did Scrounger’s nervousness. Something deep within him told him he should run. To gallop as far away from this place as possible. But he couldn't, almost as if he was frozen in his chair. He could not take his eyes away from the door of his apartment, waiting to see what happened next.

The hoofsteps eventually stopped once they reached Scrounger’s door. Whoever or whatever was approaching, it was just ion the other side of that thin layer of wood now. The old stallion took a gulp and counted the moments as absolutely nothing happened. Then, he squinted his eyes as he saw something he'd never seen before. Some kind of sickly green glow, emerging through the door. Some kind of unicorn magic perhaps? Or something worse? All he knew was that, with the passing of seconds, that glow gave way to what was unmistakeably the head of a pony. Then a hoof. Then another, until finally, the complete form of an earth pony stallion now stood before him. But it was strange. All around the mysterious stallion were chains, connected to something that still lay on the other side of the door. But as the apparition moved forward, albeit slowly, those chains pulled their weights forward, revealing themselves to be safes and money boxes.

But all that concerned Scrounger now was the fact that this, for lack of a better word, ghost, was approaching him, and gazing upon him in a menacing manner. The old stallion backed up into his chair as much as he could, but it took a long time, almost until the visitor was a few feet away from him, that he finally managed to get out any words.

"Wha...what do you want?"

The spectre stopped moving after hearing this, though his gaze remained locked onto Scrounger.

"You," he answered.

Scrounger could feel the beads of sweat rolling down his face now, but nevertheless managed to get more words out.

"Who are you?"

The ghost shook his head before answering.

"Ask not who I am...but who I was."

Scrounger, understandably, was confused by that statement, but not wanting to oppose this spirit, he tried doing as asked.

"Well...who were you then?"

The spirit narrowed his eyes before speaking.

"In life...I was your partner...Scrimper."

Until now, Scrounger had been shivering furiously. But after hearing that, he stopped. Narrowing his eyes yet again, he began to examine this ghost more closely. Sure enough, upon his head, was the same bandage that had been tied to his partner's head in that open casket all those years ago. He even sounds like him, Scrounger thought to himself. But the old stallion was not one to accept the existence of spirits like this so easily, even with a display as striking as this, and his expression began to reflect the scepticism he felt, even if it was mixed in with no small amount of fear as well. The ghost of Scrimper looked upon that face and knew immediately what thoughts were going on in there.

"You do not believe in me?"

Scrounger took a few moments, but soon composed himself before sitting up straight with a more serious look on his face.

"I don't."

Scrimper looked, for all intents and purposes, disappointed by that declaration.

"Why do you doubt your senses?"

Scrounger shook his head a little.

"Because any number of things can affect them. A disorder of the stomach perhaps. You could be...er...a bit of undigested hay. A blot of mustard. A crumb of cheese."

The stallion narrowed his eyes before pointing his hoof in an accusing manner towards Scrimper.

"Yes...there's more of gravy than of grave about you!"

Gaining a look of great anger, Scrimper practically leaped forward, opening up his mouth and letting out that same terrifying howl that Scrounger had heard from the doorknob not so long ago. It was only now, as he was cowering from the apparition of his old partner, that he realised that it was HIS face on the knob. His doubts were dropping with every passing moment, not helped by the sheer terror he felt at watching the howling spectre before him, whose chains rattled so loudly that Scrounger was sure he'd wake up ponies in entirely different cities.

"I'm sorry! I...I didn't mean to offend you, ghost!"

There was a moment or two, but the screaming eventually died down, and Scrimper looked down at the chains in his hooves with a mixture of sadness and regret. It was a look that did not escape Scrounger's notice, and so he spoke up, albeit in a very nervous manner.

"Why are you covered in chains, Scrimper?"

The ghost looked up at his old partner, his expression now a steely one.

"I wear the chain I forged in life. A chain forged by all the greed and selfishness I showed to others. Link by link, I made this prison for myself. A prison...that is mine for all eternity."

He looked away from Scrounger and at the small fire beside him, his expression growing ever more despondent.

"I was a fool, old friend. I thought I was leading a good life. A prosperous life. But in death...I see that I lived only for myself. No others ever caught my notice, or my care. And in living such a life...I damned myself."

Scrounger looked at him, his face showing a degree of puzzlement.

"But...but you were always so good at our business and..."

He did not have time to finish, as Scrimper turned on him with fury in his eyes.

"BUSINESS?!"

To Scrounger's horror, that outburst had loosened the binding's on Scrimper's head, allowing his jaw to drop downwards, as if there had never been anything to hold it up. The old stallion recoiled at this grotesque and morbid image before him. But it was Scrimper who showed the most distress, as he reached up with his hooves as much as his chains would allow. There was a few moments of silence from him as he tightened his bindings yet again, giving himself a more normal appearance yet again. He took a few deep breaths to recover from that before looking up at his partner again.

"Business? Ponykind was my business. And in that, I failed miserably."

Narrowing his eyes, Scrimper began to step forward towards Scrounger.

"But...can you imagine the length and weight of your chain, Scrounger? It was as long and heavy as mine seven years ago...and you have laboured on it ever since."

Scrounger felt a great chill creep down his spine as he heard those words. Turning, he looked around, perhaps expecting to see such a chain there behind him. But there was nothing. If such a thing existed, then if Scrimper was to be believed, he would endure even worse that what he has, which was saying something. Looking upon the passed-on stallion, Scrounger took a moment to gather himself before speaking.

"Scrimper...enough of this. Speak comfort to me, I beg of you."

The spirit's expression became one of sadness once more as he heard that question.

"I am sorry...but I have none to give."

A look of horror crossed Scrounger’s face with that answer, but he had no time to respond to it as Scrimper spoke aloud once more.

"My time is almost done here. I came to warn you, that you yet have a chance of escaping my fate. A chance that I have obtained for you."

After everything that had happened, Scrounger felt a small degree of relief upon hearing that.

"You were always a good friend to me, Scrimper. Whatever help you've given me...thank you."

Scrimper nodded at that before continuing.

"You will be haunted by three spirits."

The sense of relief left Scrounger after hearing that, at which point he looked upon his old partner with what could only be described as annoyance.

"Begging your pardon, Scrimper...but I think you and I have very different ideas on what the word "help" is supposed to mean."

The spirit ignored those words as he began to move away from Scrounger's chair and towards the nearby window.

"Expect the first spirit tomorrow, when the bell tolls one."

Scrounger could barely get any words out at this point.

"But...couldn't I just see them all at once and be done with it?"

Once more, Scrimper ignored him.

"Expect the second one the same night at the next hour. And the third..."

A pause in his words led Scrounger to really pay attention to him, wherein he saw that there was a brief look of fear upon Scrimper's face, though why, he could not say. After this lengthy pause, Scrimper finally finished.

"...the third shall arrive when your business with the second is finished."

It was here that he finally turned to look upon his old partner and friend, who was hanging on every word at this point. As he offered a small but comforting smile, Scrimper spoke his final words.

"You will not see me again."

With that, the ghost turned and began to pass through the window, much like he had done with the door. Scrounger kept his gaze upon him as best he could, watching as the eerie green glow grew further and further away, until eventually, he could be seen no longer. As if to symbolise his old partner's disappearance, the tiny fire beside Scrounger's chair finally died out, leaving the old stallion completely alone.

And for the first time in many years, he truly felt the cold of his room.

The Past is Another Country

Scrounger couldn't sleep, which was understandable, given what he'd just experienced. The sceptic in him kept on telling him that it was impossible. Spirits do not exist. That was not Scrimper and you will not be visited by more apparitions. That was what he kept on telling himself, over and over in his mind. But even so, it is hard to deny what happens in front of one's own eyes, and so Scrounger found himself waiting for the stated time. He was lying in his bed, one eye on the nearby clock, watching as the minute hand slowly made it's way towards the predicted hour. If Scrimper was to be believed, the first of these visiting spirits would be arriving soon. And so he waited with baited breath as the clock rolled ever onwards. One minute. Then two. Then three. And then finally, the hour struck midnight. Scrounger could hear through the walls of his building that the great clock far away began to ring also. One O'clock was here.

But as he looked around, he saw nothing. No ghosts or spirits to speak to him. And for a moment, he felt a degree of relief. Perhaps it was all a hallucination after all? That feeling was fleeting however, as all of a sudden, a near-blinding flash of light began at the foot of his bed. Sitting upright in an instant, Scrounger shielded his eyes from the bright light. After a few moments however, it died down, and the old stallion was given the opportunity to get a better look at what was causing it. To his surprise, what now stood before him was not a grim ghost as Scrimper had been, but rather what appeared to be a flesh and blood unicorn filly. Her fur was a bright white and her mane a combination of pink and purple. Her horn was aglow, the same colour as candle-flame. And her large green eyes kept watching him, waiting for him to make the first move.

Eventually, he did so, as he fumbled his words slightly before finally addressing this new visitor.

"Are...are you the spirit whose coming was foretold to me?"

The filly nodded.

"I am."

Scrounger looked at her with an expression of clear confusion, as he began to make his way out of bed, still wearing his cap.

"But you're just a child!"

The filly narrowed her eyes at that, looking more than a little annoyed.

"Hey! I'm more than nineteen-hundred years old, Mister! I'm the Ghost of Hearth's Warming Past!"

Not wanting to offend this spirit, Scrounger cleared his throat a little before speaking again, albeit in a more gentle tone this time.

"Why did you come here?"

The young filly smiled a little at that before pointing.

"Well, I was told you were in trouble and that I should help."

Scrounger narrowed his eyes.

"Help? I assure you, spirit, that if I were given a night's unbroken rest, I would have no trouble."

The filly scoffed at that before turning away from him.

"Well, I've got stuff to do, so let's get on with it already!"

Scrounger let out a sigh. He knew at this point that arguing with creatures from beyond was probably a wasted effort on his part, so he instead began to walk towards her, ready to go wherever she had planned for him. However, his attention was drawn to his window, as he saw the young unicorn use her magic to open it up. A look of worry passed his face as he looked down at her.

"Spirit...I don't know if you're aware...but mortals like myself have a habit of falling when we go out of windows."

The spirit looked at him and giggled a little.

"Silly! Touch my hoof and you'll fly!"

Needless to say, Scrounger was more than a little wary of that, but nevertheless did as he was told, reaching out and grabbing hold of the filly's offered hoof. When he did this however, he was taken aback as he felt a great tug as the child leapt up and out of the window, with him in tow. Immediately, Scrounger closed his eyes tightly, waiting to feel the impact of the ground below. But when it didn't come, he slowly opened them, only to be greeted by an impossible sight. As the spirit had promised, he was indeed flying, far above the city he called home. He looked down, seeing the great distance between him and the ground, as well as the many tall buildings beneath him. It was, to be sure, an incredible experience to say the least, and while Scrounger was the most serious of stallions under normal circumstances, even he couldn't help but feel somewhat excited by this experience.

As the flight continued however, his attention was drawn to what lay in front of him. It couldn't be, he told himself, but there was no question the light of dawn in the distance. However, he began to notice something strange alongside it. It was another impossible sight, but there, arriving with the dawn, was countryside. Trees and fields and tiny cottages abound, rather than the busy streets and cold skyscrapers of Manehattan. He'd have asked what was going on, but a new sensation began to grip him. A feeling of familiarity. He knew this place. In fact, he was sure he knew this place very well. He did not have time to dwell on it however, as the spirit, and him alongside her, began to make their descent towards the ground. In mere moments, the two had landed, their hooves pressing deep into the blanket of snow that covered the landscape. A few minutes passed, and Scrounger kept his gaze upon the tiny collection of homes before him, until a look of realisation crossed his face.

"I...I know this place. I was born here. I never thought to see it again."

He opened his mouth to speak further, but was interrupted by the loud sound of ringing bells. Spinning around, he looked upon what was unmistakeably a school, albeit a very old and traditional-looking one. That same sense of familiarity came to him as he began to take a few steps towards it.

"My old school. I remember it well, spirit. The lessons. The teachers. I chose my future in this place."

The small spirit walked beside him and looked up into his eyes, stretching out a hoof before speaking.

"Those colts and fillies over there. Do you know them?"

Scrounger turned to see where she was pointing to, and a look of shock came to him. There were indeed a collection of young colts and fillies, just outside the school grounds. They were playing happily with themselves, throwing snowballs and such. Scrounger felt a great deal of nostalgia over this. He knew their names, every one of them, from his many years at this school. To see them again, just as they were when he first parted ways with him, was quite an experience to say the least. But this feeling was short-lived as a certain memory came to mind, and his expression became more serious. Turning from the young ponies, he looked up at the school once more before walking towards it.

"There is one from this school who is not playing alongside them, spirit."

Scrounger and the spirit walked together towards the school, entering it with ease before making their way along the hallways. Scrounger, even after all these past years had come and gone, knew this place like the back of his hoof, and so it wasn't long before he found what he was looking for. A classroom, filled with all the blackboards and chalks and stacks of books you'd expect such a room to have. But that didn't concern Scrounger right now, as his eyes focused instead on the room's sole occupant. It was a colt, small for his age, with his nose pressed up against the window, looking out at the playing youngsters below, with a look of sadness upon his face. Scrounger's own expression softened considerably when he looked upon the child, taking a few steps towards him before he heard the voice of the spirit once more.

"That colt...he's you, isn't he?"

The old stallion nodded solemnly at that before speaking up.

"Yes. I...I was often alone. I always kept myself busy with more schoolwork, even during the holidays."

The small spirit looked up at him with some confusion.

"You didn't go home to your family like the other students?"

Scrounger's expression became more stern after hearing that.

"No. My...my father and I...didn't get along."

The young filly opened her mouth to say something about that, but thought better of it. Instead, she simply began her work, waving her hoof across the scene before her, which, to Scrounger's surprise, began to change what was happening. The room grew older in appearance, as did the colt. The years were passing in this one place, and Scrounger was watching his childhood play out before him. What was difficult to ignore however, was the fact that the young colt remained here, alone, with every passing year. Scrounger's face became a look of regret as he considered this fact, though he constantly steeled himself anew whenever the thought arose. Eventually, the spirit stopped her work, and the two reached a point in time when Scrounger was then a grown stallion, about to leave the school. Much like his future self, the younger version had a somewhat stoic look, albeit far less aggressive than it would one day become. That look changed though when a voice could then be heard.

"Scrounger!"

The younger Scrounger turned, as did the older one, and both of them looked on with a smile as a young filly came into the room, galloping forward and embracing the younger in a big hug.

"Oh brother! It's been so long!"

The young Scrounger knelt down to further embrace his sister, before speaking in a soft tone.

"It's good to see you too, Tulip. Your visit is as good a Hearth's Warming gift as I could hope to gain."

The excited filly stepped back from her brother with a big smile on her face.

"That's not all! Father says you can come home this year! He's so much nicer than he used to be. We can be together for Hearth's Warming Eve! Isn't that wonderful?"

The young Scrounger gained a look of disbelief upon his face, before it slowly became one of happiness, as he lowered his head and affectionately nuzzled his little sister.

"I would like that, Tulip. I really would."

The future version of Scrounger looked upon this union, specifically at the filly, with great nostalgia in his heart. It was brief, but he felt more comfort in this sight than he had done in years. He didn't even bother turning to look as the Ghost of Hearth's Warming Past stood beside him.

"She was special, wasn't she?"

Scrounger nodded at that.

"Yes...she was."

The filly looked up at him after that, hearing the melancholy in his voice.

"But...she's no longer with you...is she?"

The stallion shook his head.

"No. She...she died in childbirth. My nephew, Prancer, is all I have left of her now."

The filly nodded.

"Do you get along with him?"

Scrounger’s eyes narrowed.

"No. Every time I look at him, I see the only member of my family I ever loved, and am reminded every time that she was taken from me. I have pushed him away many times because of this."

A look of regret passed his face once more.

"Though...perhaps that was a great error on my part."

The spirit nodded at that before deciding to herself that perhaps now was the best time to continue their journey through this stallion's past. With another wave of her hoof, the scene changed once more, and this time the entire location was morphing before Scrounger's eyes. Suddenly, they were outside, in the cold, looking upon what looked like a factory of some sort. The sun had long since set and there was yet more snow falling. But Scrounger was not concerned with all that, as a look of utter shock now covered his face.

"I know this place! I was an apprentice here! My first employer, Jolly, was the kindest stallion you could ever hope to work for."

As if on cue, the front doors of the factory burst open, revealing a rather portly-looking unicorn stallion stepping outside. Although he had a wide smile upon his face, the thing anypony would notice first is that fact that he had a clearly-fake toupee on his head. Scrounger's face lit up when he saw him.

"And there's the stallion himself! Ha! I almost forgot how ridiculous that carpet on his head was. We used to call him "Fuzzy Wig" behind his back. Ah, good times!"

The former employer looked around at several of the mares and stallion walking about the area outside his factory before inviting them inside. Realising what this meant, Scrounger smiled a little before following them, making his way within the old building. And sure enough, there were massive celebrations abound within. Streamers, balloons, every party treat one could imagine. And there were ponies of all walks of life gathered here to dance together. Scrounger remembered it well, though he never thought himself one for dances himself. Looking around, he remembered all those familiar faces, how he once worked alongside them. How happy his employer always was. A look of sadness crossed him once again as it began to dawn on him just how different a person he became from the stallion he once worked for.

But that all changed as he looked upon yet another familiar face. It was himself, again from the past. Older and wearing a sensible-looking suit, he was smiling with all the rest of them in this place, albeit not joining them on the dance floor. Scrounger chuckled to himself as he saw his younger face, remembering how there was once a time when he actually enjoyed this kind of celebration, to the point where he would actually look forward to the holidays. However, as he watched his younger self begin to make his way towards the buffet table, he saw him stopped when he accidentally bumped into another pony. It took only a few moments for the young stallion to compose himself, but when he saw who he'd collided with, his jaw hung open with sheer shock.

The older Scrounger also reacted in a similar fashion, as both felt the same thing. That the mare who stood before them was the most beautiful pony they had ever laid eyes on. She was a pegasus, very slender and possessed of a chestnut-coloured mane. Her eyes were a sparkling green and her face bore a number of adorable freckles. As the mare too tried to compose herself after the collision, she saw the gaping mouth of the young stallion before her, leading to her giggling somewhat. The young Scrounger, cleared his throat nervously before smiling a little, offering his hoof to her.

"Oh, I er...I'm terribly sorry but..."

But he was prevented from finishing by the mare, who placed a hoof upon his lips before speaking.

"Would you...care to join me on the dance floor?"

The stallion looked around nervously at the other dancers before turning back to her. He knew this was an opportunity he'd regret for the rest of his life if he didn't take it. So, smiling back to her, he took her hoof in his and began to lead her onto the floor. As the two walked together, the older stallion let out a sigh, all while the small spirit beside him looked up at him with sadness.

"This wasn't the last Hearth's Warming Eve you'd spend together...was it?"

He knew exactly what she meant by that, though it brought him no joy to actually speak an answer to her. Instead, he simply gave a grim nod, knowing full well what was coming. And come it did, for the tiny filly waved her hoof yet again, changing the scene before them. Now, Scrounger found himself in the most familiar place of all, his counting house. Every inch of it was exactly the same as when he left it mere hours ago. But he knew that this was not today he was seeing, but many years ago, for the stallion sat behind his desk was himself. No longer carrying the coltish good looks he once had, his face had aged considerably, as evidenced by the grey hairs that had cropped up in his mane. But it was who sat opposite him that caught Scrounger's eyes this time. It was that same mare, also older than when he last saw her, looking upon the stallion with sadness and regret.

"When we last spoke...you said thing would change. Tell me, Scrounger...have they?"

The stallion, who had lost much of the happiness his younger self once possessed, looked upon the mare in a stern fashion.

"Tender Heart, things aren’t easy. The business isn't picking up like it should be. Once profits are up, maybe then we can talk about marriage."

Tender looked down with no small amount of remorse in her eyes.

"That's what you said last year...and the year before that."

The younger Scrounger narrowed his eyes at that.

"Do you think life is easy? If one ceases to work for better, then they go lower. My work is important to me. Securing my future is important to me."

Tender looked up at him.

"What about OUR future? Is there no thought for that? What...what happened to you, Scrounger? When did work and bits become so important that you made them a higher priority than...than others?"

Scrounger got up from his seat and turned to the window, his eyes bearing a look of anger.

"There will be no more talk of this, Tender!"

Scrounger didn't turn to look, but heard her get up and make her way towards the door, opening it. When she spoke next, he heard the great sadness in her voice.

"No...there won't be."

It took only a moment for Scrounger to realise the message behind those words, as he turned immediately to see her leave, closing the door hard behind her. He moved forward to stop her, but knew deep down that there would be little point. She was gone now, and he knew that. There was only one thing he had now, and that was carrying on with what he'd been doing before. Work. So, letting out one final sigh, he sat down on his desk and began looking at his precious numbers, all while his future self looked on, feeling more and more hatred for himself and his actions with every passing moment. He practically choked on every breath as he witnessed the scene before him, turning to the spirit with tears growing in his eyes.

"Spirit...why do you show me these things? Why do you torture me with my mistakes?"

The young spirit looked at him angrily.

"These things have already happened. Don't blame me for how they turned out."

The stallion turned away angrily at her.

"Just...leave me."

He shut his eyes tightly, wanting all of this to go away. He hated it. All of it. The mistakes that led him to be so lonely. The fact that he failed to live up to the example of those who taught and apprenticed him. The loss of those most important to him. He hated all of it. He felt nothing now but pain, and wanted nothing more than to just go back. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and realised that this is exactly what he had been given. No longer was he in his counting house of old, but his own room.

The spirit had gone, and he was alone. Just as he always was.

Today is a Gift

The old stallion looked about his bedchamber, knowing full well that the second of the spirits was due to appear. Though sceptical at first, there was no longer any doubt in Scrounger's mind that these apparitions were real, and so to was their quest to aid him, however much he might protest their entering his home. Through the darkness and the silence of the night, Scrounger could hear the ticking of his nearby clock, and he counted every second. Eventually, the bells tolled two, as did the great clock of the city far away from his apartment block. The hour was here, though the spirit, at least for now, was not. That all changed though as, once Scrounger sighed a little, a bright light could be seen. But this was not here in his room, as the first Ghost had been, but rather from the adjacent main chamber of his apartment.

Slowly, Scrounger got out of bed again and began to make his way towards the source of the slight, albeit very nervously. He peeked around the frame of the door, and his eyes widened as he saw what lay beyond it. In stark contrast to how his apartment usually looked, it was now looking more festive than even the most ardent of Hearth's Warming celebrations. Tinsel and balloons and streamers of every colour of the rainbow were here, in addition to many lights and candles, giving a warm and festive atmosphere to the place. But most of all, Scrounger's eyes beheld both a magnificent feast and piles upon piles of Hearth's Warming presents, all strewn about the room. It was a sight, that much was certain, and even Scrounger's old and hardened heart couldn't help but lift somewhat at witnessing it.

However, this frame of mind was suddenly interrupted by the sudden arrival of what even a bitter stallion like Scrounger could recognise as laughter. It was high-pitched and most definitely female, and it caused him to turn his head towards the corner of the room. There, sitting atop a pile of presents, was a bright pink earth pony mare. Her mane was a darker shade of pink and extremely bouncy in appearance. She wore a dark green robe with a reef of flowers around her mane. And in one hoof she held a golden horn, atop which was a bright flame. She was laughing happily as she looked at Scrounger tentatively enter the room, leading to the stallion taking a few nervous steps forward. As he approached her, the mare spoke up.

"Hiya!"

Needless to say, this was not the kind of greeting that Scrounger was expecting to hear from some spirit. But he nevertheless tried to return the greeting.

"Um...hello? I assume you are the second of the spirits sent to help me?"

The mare nodded.

"You betcha! I'm the Ghost of Hearth's Warming Present! Bet you've never seen the likes of me before, have you?"

Scrounger shook his head, certain that he'd remember seeing a mare of this kind in the past if such an encounter had ever happened. The pink mare regarded this in a brief moment of silence before smiling widely again.

"How about my older sisters? I've had over eighteen hundred of them ya know?"

Scrounger raised an eyebrow at that.

"Eighteen hundred sisters?"

The Ghost tapped her chin with her hoof before shrugging her shoulders.

"Well...technically I only had three, but eighteen hundred sounds like so much more fun! Imagine all the Birthdays I'd get to plan!"

Scrounger, understandably, was rather taken aback by how relaxed and jovial this spirit was being, given the serious nature of the visit, and what it was supposed to achieve. Even so, he dared not call her out on her behaviour, and instead decided to get right to the point of the matter.

"Spirit, if it's all the same to you, I would rather we get on with our business."

The pink mare looked a little disappointed by that, but nevertheless nodded in agreement. With one motion, she hopped off the pile of presents and landed safely on three of her hooves, with the fourth still holding onto the horn. Scrounger looked at her as she turned her head towards the item in her hoof and inhaled deeply, shortly before letting out a massive gust of breath at the flame on top of it. Scrounger backed away slightly as this caused the flame to burst forth, spreading all over and engulfing both the room and everything in it, including himself. He cowered at this, but soon realised that the flame had no heat, and did not hurt in the slightest. Slowly, he looked up and, to his surprise, found that the room around him was changing, almost as if it were disintegrating in fact.

Within moments, the power of the Spirit had changed their location. No longer were she and Scrounger in his apartment, but in what was unmistakeably the main street of Manehattan. More than that though, the time must have changed along with the location, as the sun had long since risen and was lighting up the whole city, made all the brighter by the whiteness of the snow everywhere. Scrounger looked around and saw mares, stallions and foals all walking about and speaking happily to one another, a clear sign of a happy holiday. To his surprise, the Ghost approached him and firmly slapped a hoof onto his shoulder, all while smiling widely at him.

"Look around you! Everywhere you see, ponies are being happy, enjoying this special day. And why wouldn't they? This is a day to be happy. To be kind and caring towards others. You see it in the face of every colt and filly. In the smell of the air. It's...it's..."

The mare's face lit up as if an idea had popped into her head, leading to an even bigger grin on her face, which for some reason made Scrounger very nervous. Before he could say anything, the mare leapt away from him and onto a nearby box, where she inhaled deeply before, to Scrounger's surprise and chagrin, she started to sing.

"It's in the singing of a street-corner choir! It's going home and getting warm by the fire! It's true wherever you find love, it feels li-UMPH!"

Before she could finish that line, Scrounger had moved as fast as he could to clamp a hoof down over her mouth, all while glaring angrily at her.

"NO!!! We are not doing that!"

The spirit wrestled away from his grasp and looked at him with a frown.

"Well fine, Mr mean-mean-meanypants! We'll just stick to this the old fashioned way then."

Scrounger nodded at that, already having had his fill of this mare's bubbly personality. So he silently watched as she once again blew into the flame on her horn, which then surrounded him yet again, transforming the scene around him. When the flames subsided, he found himself in a modest but comfortable living room, which had many holiday party-goers, earth ponies, unicorns and pegasi alike. But what drew Scrounger's eye most of all was the one leading the group. With a big smile on his face, it was none other than Prancer, Scrounger's Nephew. The old stallion looked upon the younger as the latter raised a glass to those who had come to his home on this holiday, all of whom were laughing at something, though what, Scrounger could not say. From what the stallion could guess he'd just stumbled into the middle of a conversation, which Prancer was in the middle of continuing.

"...and that was how we left things."

The other guests looked at each other with some incredulity until an older stallion spoke up.

"Hearth's Warming Eve a humbug? He actually said that?"

Scrounger’s' ears pricked up at that, recognising immediately that they must have been talking about him. Immediately a feeling of discomfort gripped him as he began to turn and walk away from this, not wanting to see any more. But he was stopped from doing so by his pink mare escort, who glared at him before pointing a hoof back at the party-goers, prompting him to face them once again, albeit with an unhappy look on his face. So he carried on listening as Prancer addressed the other stallion.

"I'm afraid so. He's never been one for this day, or any other to be perfectly honest."

A nearby earth pony mare, which Scrounger guessed to be Prancer's wife, spoke up after hearing that.

"Such an unpleasant stallion. I don't understand how you can keep going back to him, Prancer. He just turns you away, every time."

Scrounger's nephew nodded at that before speaking to her.

"I understand, my dear. And truly, I wish he would open up to me more. Bu if he doesn't...well...that's his choice."

Another pang of guilt took Scrounger as he considered that. He recalled what he'd said to the Ghost of Hearth's Warming Past. How he'd always pushed his nephew away because of the lost sister he'd reminded him of. It was something he regretted, though he did not wish to openly admit that to that spirit beside him. But still, here was the fruits of his actions in keeping him away. Prancer's friends joking about him behind his back. Had this been any other day, he'd have shrugged off such words. But tonight, after everything else he'd seen and heard, they struck deep. Still, he was here for a reason, and so kept on listening as Prancer carried on speaking.

"Still, he's family all the same, even if he doesn't show it. And while he would not wish to join us, he's nevertheless given us a few laughs. So, here's to Scrounger!"

He lifted a glass once more, as did all of his guests, all of whom let out a mumble of "hear hear" in agreement to Prancer's words. Scrounger watched carefully as his nephew and his friends all began enjoying each other's company soon afterwards, though this was interrupted yet again by the sudden appearance of yet another bout of flames from the Ghost’s horn. Surrounded by the magical fire, it was not long before Scrounger looked upon his new surroundings. It was another home he did not recognise, though this one was far smaller and less clean than Prancer's abode. The windows were somewhat grimy and the whole place felt cramped. Scroungers' attention was drawn to a nearby fireplace, atop which was a bubbling pot of some sort, which led to an earth pony mare rushing in from the next room to see to it.

"Oh blast it!" she said in an annoyed tone.

Scrounger raised an eyebrow before turning to the spirit, who was humming to herself before being interrupted by the old stallion.

"Spirit...is this place of some importance?"

A look of confusion passed the spirit's face before it soon morphed into one of understanding.

"Oh yeah! I forgot, you've never been here before, have you? Well, this is the home of your clerk, Bob!"

Surprise came to Scrounger's face as he regarded that, before he turned and began looking around. This was where Bob lived? Granted he'd never taken the time to learn much about his clerk's personal life, but he'd always assumed that he lived somewhere better than this at least. Still, his attention was then drawn to the front door, where sure enough, Bob himself soon entered, shaking his fur of any snow before closing the door behind him. After a moment or two, he smiled as he looked upon the mare by the fireplace.

"Ah! Good evening, love! I trust you're well?"

The mare turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

"I suppose, though it'd be nice if I had a few extra hooves helping me out with dinner every once in a while."

Bob looked somewhat nervous at that before offering a smile to his wife.

"Well...it was Pip. He didn't want to leave the park too soon."

It was here that Bob stood aside, revealing both to his wife and to Scrounger that he was not alone. There was a tiny colt just behind him, white in his fur and bearing a brown spot on one eye. Scrounger assumed that this must be Pip, Bob's son that he occasionally heard about. The mare, seeing the young and adorable-looking colt beside her husband, looked at the latter in an annoyed fashion.

"Bobbing F Apples, are you trying to get me to be less angry at you by having our son be more adorable than usual?"

The stallion shrugged his shoulders, making it clear that this was exactly what he'd been planning. The mare let out a sigh before starting to chuckle, as too did both Bob and Pip. The three all huddled together in a warm and hearth-melting way, something even Scrounger wasn't totally immune to at this point. However, the moment was spoiled somewhat as the young colt began to let out quite a painful-sounding cough. Scrounger stepped forward, looking somewhat concerned, though not anywhere near as much as the colt's mother, who dropped to her knees and watched Pip closely.

"Oh honey! I'm sorry, we got you too excited there, didn't we?"

The colt continued to cough a great deal before forcing a smile for his mother's sake.

"It's okay, Mama. I'll be fine."

Another cough came, though this one was thankfully much briefer than the first. Both parents looked at each other with concerned expressions, before the Mother softly urged her son to get himself ready for dinner, which he dutifully did. Both parents looked on as he slowly made his way past the form of Scrounger and up the stairs. With the child gone, Scrounger watched as his parents began to speak to each other, albeit in hushed tones.

"So…how was he today?" the mare asked.

Bob looked at the ground a little.

"I want to say he's getting stronger. But..."

He didn't finish those words, but then, he didn't have to. Scrounger knew well the hidden meaning behind them, as indeed did anypony with sense. More guilt passed through his heart as he regarded what was going on around him. The dishevelled house Bob and his family lived in. The poor health of his son. The meagre wage Scrounger gave the stallion was barely able to pay even for this, and still Bob went on with a smile on his face every day he came to work. It was a thought that practically sent a knife through Scrounger, reflected in the painful expression his face then twisted into. The sound of hoofsteps coming down the stairs caused all there to turn, as Pip was now making his way back to his parents, with a big smile upon his face, just like his Father always wore. One with his Mother and Father, Pip looked up at them expectantly.

"Will there be a cake this year, Papa?"

Bob smiled and patted his son's head upon hearing that.

"Of course, little guy. Wouldn't be Hearth's Warming Eve without a cake now would it?"

The little colt practically jumped at that before his Mother chimed in.

"Indeed. It'll be the three of us today. Like it should be. And Faust bless this day for that."

Pip looked up at his mother and smiled.

"Faust bless us, everypony!"

There was a hushed chuckle by both parents as they heard those words, before they moved in and nuzzled each other affectionately. But all the while, Scrounger could not take his eyes off little Pip, his expression going softer with every passing moment. Though he had not spoken to her since he arrived here, he felt the need to address his spirit companion.

"Ghost of Hearth's Warming Present. Please...tell me that colt will live."

He did not turn to face her, but he heard her voice as she spoke. Though to his surprise, it was not in the upbeat and bubbly way he'd come to expect her, but a deeper and more serious tone.

"I work in the present, not the future. But I do know this. If these events remain unaltered...the child will die."

Scrounger was aghast upon hearing that, and so he spun around to look upon the spirit, hoping beyond hope that this was merely some jest on her part. But when he looked upon her, his eyes widened with shock. It was the same mare, but gone was the happy and joyful look on her face. It was replaced instead by one of uttermost seriousness. In addition, her mane had lost it's bounciness and had become straight, falling down and practically dragging along the floor now. Even her colouring was darker than it had been. As she looked at Scrounger, her eyes narrowed somewhat as she regarded the words she'd spoken to him.

"But what of it? If he's going to die then he'd better do it, and decrease the surplus population...right, Scrounger?"

Horror gripped the old stallion as he began to back away from the angry-looking mare, ashamed and terrified at hearing his old and bitter words thrown back at him like this. But when he turned, he saw that the scene had changed yet again. The tiny house was gone, as indeed was Bob and his family. Instead, he looked out upon a bleak and desolate field, the cold wind blowing fiercely, and the sky overhead covered with grey and depressing clouds. He looked back at the Ghost, and found himself surprised once more as he saw that her face had become withered, and her mane gaining more and more grey. As he regarded her, he spoke.

"Do...do you grow old, spirit?"

The mare chuckled, albeit in a dry manner.

"Unlike the others, my time in this world is very brief. It ends...upon the stroke of twelve."

The old stallion looked somewhat confused at that, but soon found his attention drawn to a building that was not there moments ago. A single clock tower, whose face was showing that the midnight hour was fast approaching. In mere moments, the first bell had begun to ring, echoing across the vast and empty landscape. Scrounger turned to look upon the mare, and it was here that something else began to catch his notice. Something was moving about within her robe, though he was made quite uncomfortable by looking at it.

"Spirit...is there something else you need to show me?"

The mare said nothing, but nodded gravely, before dropping her horn to the ground, causing it to land with a massive "thud", even upon the soft grass below. After this, the mare reached around and began lifting up her robe, causing Scrounger to recoil backwards as he saw what dwelled within. It was a pair of foals, one male pegasus and one female unicorn, bearing a brown and orange mane respectively. They were both filthy and looking very unhappy, clinging to the spirit's back legs in fear and desperation. Scrounger looked upon them, not quite understanding what he saw seeing, and so looked up at the still-ageing mare, all while the bells kept on ringing.

"Are those children yours, Spirit?"

The pink mare shook her head before replying.

"They are the children of ponykind. The colt is ignorance, and the filly is want. Beware them both, but especially the colt. For it is through following him that pony's such as yourself...seal their fate."

Scrounger found it hard to breathe at this point, as the sheer weight of what was going on around him began to really sink in. The bells of the nearby tower kept on ringing, and with each passing bell-toll, Scrounger found, to his utter shock, that the spirit, as well as the foals, began to fade away. Another bell, and then another, and another. The spirit was almost gone now, but before she left completely, she gave Scrounger one final, piercing look. A look that the old stallion knew he'd remember for the rest of his life, for good or ill. Eleven bells now, and then finally twelve. As promised, the spirit and the foals were gone now. Scrounger was left alone once more, though this time, he had not been returned to his bed chamber. Instead, he remained in this desolate field, with no guide and nothing to aid him.

Nothing, that is, except the knowledge that only one final spirit remained.

A Grim Future

Scrounger was completely alone, looking out amongst the vast and open field he'd been left in. The air was like ice, and while he would have wanted nothing more than to find shelter from this bitterness, there was none to be had. The minutes passed as he waited here, knowing that the last of the spirits would be arriving at any moment, though he could not see it. As he kept on walking along the dry and dead grass beneath his hooves, he began to notice the changing weather. While the whole place had been grey and depressing, now there was a thick mist pouring in from every direction, almost as if it was purposely closing in on him specifically. Though, given everything else he'd been through tonight, that wouldn't have surprised him.

In mere moments, he was surrounded, nothing but impenetrable white as far as his old eyes could see. He fumbled around a bit, trying to get his bearings, but it wasn't long before the arrival of a new sound stopped him dead in his tracks. It was hoofsteps, that much was certain. But this was not the sound of hoofsteps upon the soft grass below, but almost as if it was colliding with stone, or concrete. It was a heavy sound, and one that sent shivers down Scrounger’s spine, even more so than the cold air around him. He couldn't make out exactly where the sound was coming from, so he darted his head left and right trying to see who was approaching. Eventually, his ears managed to let him know that, whoever it was, they were right behind him. He didn't want to, but he felt compelled to turn around and look.

And when he did, he felt his heart skip a beat. It was another mare, but this was no simple earth pony like the last. This was an alicorn. Her fur was as black as night, and her mane an ethereal blue, flowing without the presence of wind. Her eyes were light green and piercing, almost like the eyes of a dragon. And she was adorned in azure-coloured armour, clad over her chest, head and hooves. But it was her size that truly intimidated him. He knew alicorns were large, but he'd never been this close to one. She towered over him like a giant, looking down on him as a parent might look down upon a child. Scrounger felt smaller than he'd ever done in his life. What caught his notice most thought was her silence. She didn't say a word. No introduction or anything. But since he'd already had spirits of the past and future, there was no doubt in his mind who this mare was, as shown by his next words.

"Are...are you the Ghost of Hearth's Warming Yet-to-Come?"

The mare remained silent, only giving him his answer by way of a simple, yet foreboding nod of her head. Scrounger gulped as he took a nervous step towards her.

"Spirit. I fear you more...than any spectre I have met this night. But even so...I am prepared to walk with you, as I have the other spirits."

Like before, silence was all this mare would give the old stallion, keeping her gaze on him sternly. After a few deep breaths, Scrounger worked up the nerve to speak to her yet again.

"If I may, spirit. The night is waning fast. Please...begin your lesson."

There were no words, as always, but it was here that the dark alicorn finally moved from her stationary position. She raised a hoof and pointed to the side, towards the thick wall of fog beside them. Scrounger looked at it, and then to her, before nodding. Having received his consent, the mare lowered her hoof before walking in the direction she'd pointed, with Scrounger in tow. The stallion followed her, only to be taken aback as he saw the fog begin to part, as if it obeyed her will. After a few minutes of following her, he began to hear something up ahead. To his surprise, it was the sound of somepony talking, though he could not see whose it was. More time passed and the fog soon cleared from his view entirely, and when it did, he found himself shocked to discover that this was no longer a lonely field he stood in.

With tall skyscrapers all around, he was unmistakeably back in Manehattan, though it was still winter from the feel of the air. The sun was high in the sky and there were many ponies about, though as before, none of them could see him. One building in particular caught his interest, as it was a place he frequented on many days, The Bank of Manehattan. As a pony of finance, he'd spent much time here on matters of investment, though it confused him as to why the spirit would bring him to a place like this. His attention was then drawn to the sound of talking once more. Looking ahead, he saw that there, just outside the front doors of the bank, were a trio of stallions. Scrounger knew their faces from his many visits here, as all were notable names in the business world. There was Filthy Rich, a business-owner from Ponyville with dealings here in the city. Fancy Pants, a noble from Canterlot. And finally, there was perhaps the least reputable of them, Prince Blueblood. Although a member of the royal family, the Prince had never endeared himself to anypony, Scrounger or otherwise. But there was no denying that he often rubbed elbows with business types.

As Scrounger approached, he heard the three of them talking, starting with Fancy.

"So, when did he die, exactly?"

That caused Scrounger’s ears to prick up considerably, as he leaned in closer for a better listen when Filthy spoke up.

"Er...sometime last night, I think. Honestly, I'm as surprised as you. I thought he'd never go, the stubborn old stallion."

Blueblood chuckled at that.

"Well, I don't really care how or why he died. I just want to know what he's done with his money."

Fancy shot him a dark look at the Prince's remark.

"I'm sure you would. Regardless, I have no idea what he's done with it. All I know is that his is likely to be a cheap funeral. Though I can't imagine a single pony who'd go to it."

Blueblood raised an eyebrow at that before speaking up again.

"Well...I wouldn't mind going..."

The Prince took a moment to enjoy the look of surprise on the other two stallions' faces before finishing that sentence.

"...if lunch is provided of course."

In spite of their earlier animosity towards each other, the other two stallions couldn't help but share a laugh at that rather dark joke. Scrounger watched the three as they parted ways from each other, feeling some sense of dread deep down inside him over what he'd just heard, though he could not understand why. Turning, he looked upon the spirit, who had been standing there and watching him stoically the whole time.

"I know some of those stallions, spirit. Tell me...what poor soul do they speak of?"

The only response the spirit gave was to raise her hoof again, pointing away from the bank and towards what Scrounger saw to be a dirty back-alley on the other side of the street. He gave the spirit a look of confusion briefly, but knew at this point that it was foolish to question to actions of these beings. So, rather hesitantly, he walked over to the alleyway, and as he did so, another pony began to catch his eye. It was another earth pony, a mare, with light brown fur and a somewhat greying mane, looking around with some nervousness as she carried a large saddle-bag on her back. As she too began to make her way into the alleyway, Scrounger pointed towards her, speaking to the spirit who was walking beside him.

"I...I know her! That’s Dusty, the cleaning mare who works at my apartment block. But...what's she doing here?"

Curiosity began to grip Scrounger as he quickened his pace, following the mare down the alleyway. He tailed her for many minutes, until finally she stopped at a disused side-door. Looking around, Dusty tried to see if anypony was near to see her, still unaware of Scrounger observing her every movement. She gripped onto the knob of the door and turned, entering the building, with Scrounger soon behind her. Squinting his eyes somewhat, Scrounger saw that this was a fairly disused and run-down place, with chipped paintwork and broken furniture about. But what caught his interest most was that Dusty was not alone here. There, on the other side of the room, was a face Scrounger knew well from several headlines in local newspapers. Dr Caballeron, a noted thief of priceless artefacts from a number of exotic, far-away places. Scrounger couldn't imagine why Dusty would be meeting with a criminal like this, but all soon became clear as the Doctor began to speak.

"Ah, my dear Dusty. Back from collecting your...donations, I presume?"

The stallion's voice was like a snake, and Scrounger didn’t like it one bit. But he kept his gaze on Dusty as she nodded and began to speak.

"I am. I've brought everything I could. Nopony around to stop me after all."

The mare dropped her saddle bags before starting to rummage around them. Scrounger craned his neck, trying to get a good look of what she was getting out. It wasn't long before he saw what it was. It was a fine suit of some sort, dark in it's colour. But there was something familiar about it that Scrounger couldn't place. Regardless, it wasn't long before the Doctor took the suit from Dusty and began to examine it.

"Hmmm...yes, good quality. Should fetch a decent price. Where'd you find it?"

Dusty chuckled a bit before answering him.

"Well, if you must know...he was put in it to be buried in."

Both Scrounger and Caballeron looked more than a little taken aback by what the mare had just said, though Scrounger was far more horrified. As he looked at the suit in Caballeron's hooves, he watched as the latter began to chuckle.

"Ha! A bold move, my dear. I like the way you think. But don't think I'll be upping the price just for your daring."

Dusty scoffed at that before getting back to her bag, after which she pulled out what was unmistakeably a set of blankets for a bed. Yet again, Scrounger found himself feeling something familiar about these items, though it frustrated him that he couldn't put his hoof on why. As Dusty handed the blankets to her fence, she chuckled a little more.

"I suppose it's sad to think of it. He drove everypony away when he lived. And now that he's gone, it turns out that the only good he ever did was in benefitting people like us who rob him when he's cold."

Both Dusty and Caballeron shared a dark laugh over that remark, though Scrounger remained horrified by this entire exchange. He found that he couldn't bear to be a witness to this any long, and so he spun around and ran out as fast as he could from that old building. Once outside in the sun, he took a moment to collect himself and take a few deep breaths, after which he turned his head to see the steely gaze of his companion spirit. Taking a gulp, he approached her meekly and began to speak up to her.

"Spirit...I understand what it is that you're trying to tell me. This lonesome stallion, the one those vultures had their way with after his death...that fate might well be mine one day if I don't change. That is what you're lesson is, right spirit?"

The dark alicorn said nothing, as always, but before Scrounger could ask anything further, he was caught off-guard by the fact that the light around him was beginning to fade rapidly. It was as if the sun had all but vanished. Buildings, streets, ponies. All of them faded from view for him, until the only thing he could see was the tall mare before him. He opened his mouth to say something, but was soon stopped as the spirit raised a hoof once more. She was pointing to something behind him, though he felt himself yet again terrified to see what it was. Nevertheless, he turned, and when he did, he backed away in horror. There was a single lit spot before him, in which was a simple large wooden table. Atop the table was a large white tarp, though something was clearly beneath it. Scrounger was no fool. He knew what lay beneath that sheet. It was the same shape and size of a pony. What the spirit was showing him was one who had passed on, though he could not understand why.

"Wha...what is this?!"

As if to try and answer him, the spirit began to walk slowly around the table, so that she was now standing on the other side of it. Scrounger watched her as she pointed a hoof to the unmoving form beneath the white sheet. Burt Scrounger shook his head.

"I...I can't spirit."

The spirit narrowed her eyes at that, before placing a hoof on the edge of the sheet where the lifeless pony's head was. A slow movement of her hoof and the sheet began to pull away, revealing only the top of the head, and some familiar-looking grey mane. Scrounger shook his head, far more frantically than before, before turning away from this unpleasant display and shutting his eyes tightly.

"Spirit, I...I can't do what you ask of me! Just...please! Show me something warm about this future! Something loving and tender...or this place will haunt me forever!"

He heard no response from the spirit behind him, but instead, a new sound came to his attention. It was the sound of a fire. And as he opened his eyes, he saw that this was exactly that. A small fireplace, and one he knew he'd seen before. Glancing around, he found that his suspicions were confirmed. This was none other than the home of Bobbing Apples, his clerk. A small smile came to his face as he considered this. Finally, he thought to himself, a place where he knew that there is some love and affection, even in this grim future the spirit had shown him. He looked around, trying to see one of the ponies who lived here. It was not long before he caught sight of Bob's wife, sitting quietly by the fireplace. He began to approach her, but stopped immediately as he saw the look on her face.

It was a look of utter devastation. Her cheeks were still soaking from what must have been a long time of crying, as also evidenced by the fact that her eyes were quite puffy. She sniffed every once in a while, though never took her gaze off the fire. Scrounger was confused, not knowing what could have caused her such distress, but he soon had other things to think about, as the door of their home opened, revealing Bob himself, slowly entering. Scrounger saw that his too was an expression of sadness, as he looked upon his wife, and she at her, before he slowly closed the door behind him. The distraught mare got up from her seat to approach her husband, speaking softly as she wiped away what remained of her tears.

"Honey. How...how was it?"

Bob tried to smile, but Scrounger knew it was a forced one.

"It looks great, dear. The trees are in full bloom now and...and I think he'd love it there."

A moment of confusion came to Scrounger as he tried thinking of what was going on. But the silence that covered this place suddenly made him very aware of something. There were only two ponies here, not three. The old stallion darted his head left and right, trying to see the young and energetic colt he'd seen before. But he was nowhere to be found. And then, it all fell into place for him. The tears, the hushed tones, all of it. Horror came to his face, causing him to take a step backwards as he spoke.

"No...not Pip! Oh spirits, please...don't let it be true!"

His worst fears were soon confirmed as he looked upon the two parents, who were both looking at each other with tears forming in their eyes. It was not long before they finally broke down, embracing each other and weeping uncontrollably, even collapsing to their knees as they held each other. Scrounger couldn't bear to watch this tragedy unfold before him, and so he backed away more and more. But when he did, he found himself colliding with something. Spinning around, he saw that he'd backed into a door. At first, he thought nothing of it. But his collision had caused the door to slowly creep open, and as it did, his eyes widened as he saw what lay beyond. It was a small bedroom. And on top of the bed was yet another white sheet. But this time, it was not an adult that was beneath. No, this form was smaller, though no less dead. And as Scrounger looked upon it, as much as he wanted to deny it, he knew what young colt lay beneath.

He found himself almost gasping for breath at everything that was happening around him. He wanted to run, or to shut his eyes and pray that it all went away. But he could no longer deny this grim future. As he looked upon this tragedy around him, he knew deep down what he had to do. He'd been avoiding something very important since the moment he first came upon this future world, but now, he could no longer escape it. Turning, he looked upon the face of the spirit, who had been quietly waiting for him, before speaking softly to her.

"Spirit. I find I can no longer avoid this. So tell me. Who...who was the stallion who died?"

The spirit narrowed her eyes, though no answer was given. Scrounger was about to insist that she answer him, but was soon taken aback by a sudden blast of cold air from behind him. Turning, he found himself no longer in the home of Bob, but in an even more grim scene. Covered in snow and totally deserted, Scrounger looked upon an old graveyard. Many of the headstones were crumbling or overgrown, with surrounding trees bereft of their leaves. It was the kind of sight nopony would want to be a part of. But as Scrounger grimaced at this sight, he saw the hoof of the spirit point right past him. Following where she was pointing, Scrounger now looked upon a solitary gravestone, so covered in snow that the words upon it were hidden from him. He began to approach it, but hesitated as he felt the urge to ask yet another question.

"Before I look at that stone, tell me something. These things you’ve shown me. Are they what will be...or only what might be? Can these events still be changed?"

The mare said nothing, but kept on pointing at the stone. It was a response Scrounger should have expected. The old stallion instead began to take nervous steps towards the lonely stone before him. It was not long before he finally reached it, dropping to his knees and raising a hoof. He hesitated, for deep down he knew what he would find here. It was the one thing he'd feared through this entire journey. But now that he was here, he could not stop now. So, taking a final breath, he placed his hoof upon the snow and began to wipe it away. And when he did, his face became even more pale as he read the words before him.

Here lies Scrounger.

The old stallion got back to his hooves, backing away from the stone as he spoke.

"No! Oh please, no!"

He spun around and looked upon the dark mare, tears now forming in his eyes.

"Spirit! I...I am not the stallion I was! Wh..why would you show me this if I am past all hope?"

He approached the mare, his voice now wobbling from the sheer emotional weight he was feeling.

"I promise you, I will live my life in the past, present and future! I will not shut out the lessons you and the others have taught me."

As he gazed upon the still-silent spirit, he finally dropped to his knees.

"Please...tell me I can sponge away the writing on that stone!"

The mare said nothing, just as she always did. But before Scrounger could say anymore, he was shocked to find that the ground he was standing upon, still beside the gravestone, was giving away. The snow fell down into what he saw was a massive gaping hole, the grave itself. His old hooves quickly managed to grab hold into the edge of the hole before he fell, though now he was hanging precariously, not knowing if he could hold on much longer. Glancing over his shoulder, Scrounger looked down the far hole. To his utter horror, there was no coffin there, no body. Instead, there were only flames, licking higher and higher. He could feel the heat, even this far up, and his heart began to race with terror at looking upon that hellish scene below. Gripping as tightly as he could, he looked instead at the spirit, who was still standing where she was before.

"Spirit! Help me!"

But she said nothing, and instead, to Scrounger's shock, began to solemnly turn away and walk. Scrounger’s eyes widened as he saw this, continuing to shout out.

"Spirit! I promise! I'll change!"

But still she kept on walking, even in spite of the heartfelt pleas she was hearing. Time and again he called, and time and again she ignored him. Eventually, Scrounger found that the edge he held onto could support him no longer, and the cold soil finally broke away, causing him to fall. He screamed as loud as he'd ever done in his entire life, as he plummeted down, seeing the flames below get closer and closer with every passing moment. In mere moments, he saw himself finally plunge into the terrifying inferno.

And when he did, all he knew afterwards was darkness.

A New Dawn

Scrounger's eyes were shut, fully expecting to be roasted alive by the inferno that greeted him at the bottom of that ghastly hole. But instead, he found his face pressed up against what surely felt like wood. Slowly but surely, he opened his eyes, and gazed upon a most unexpected sight. It was the floorboard of his own home. His eyes widening, he began to lift himself off the ground, his head darting in all directions. There was no mistaking it, this was definitely his chambers. What's more, the sun was pouring in through the nearby window. Morning had come. He didn't know what to feel or how to react, and so he spent a few moments merely standing quietly and taking it all in. However, after that, he began to break out into a smile of sheer relief, also reflected in his tone.

"I'm...I'm back!"

He kept on saying that a few times before, for the first time in many years, he began to laugh. He was still here, and he had a chance. A chance to change. A chance to put right everything he'd done wrong. It wasn't too late. Thinking on this, he walked over to his window, opened it, and poked his head outside. Taking in a lungful of cold and refreshing morning air, he looked out upon Manehatten. The city was blanketed with snow as far as the eye could see, and already the old stallion could hear the sound of ponies waking up and celebrating. One such pony caught his attention this very moment, as Scrounger looked down to see a young colt pulling a sled past the front entrance of his apartment block. Seeing an opportunity, Scrounger called out to him.

"You there, colt! What's today?"

The youngster, a small earth pony, looked up at the stallion with confusion.

"Erm...what?"

Scrounger chuckled a little before continuing.

"I said what's today, little one?"

The colt still seemed confused, but nevertheless answered.

"Today? Well...today is Hearth's Warming Day, Sir!"

Scrounger stood back slightly, his face showing clear surprise.

"Hearth's Warming Day? Then it's true? The spirits did it all in one night!"

Going back into his room, Scrounger looked up at the ceiling, just before shouting up to whoever would hear him.

"I don't know how you did it, but thank you! I'll use this chance you've given me, I swear it!"

Knowing he had little time, Scrounger darted back to the window, just in time before the young colt from earlier was able to walk off too far to hear him.

"I say! Lad! Do you know that prize cake in the bakery store's window, on the corner of this street?"

The colt's eyes lit up upon hearing that.

"You mean the one twice as big as me?"

Scrounger chuckled at that before speaking up again.

"Yes!"

"It's still there!" the colt called back.

Scrounger smiled even more than before.

"Then go and buy it for me!"

The colt's expression suddenly became one of annoyance, and he began to walk away as he spoke.

"Yeah, right!"

Seeing the young one begin to walk off, Scrounger called out even louder than before.

"No, wait, I mean it! Buy it for me and I'll give you ten bits! In fact, if you get it here in under five minutes, I'll give you twenty!"

That certainly seemed to get the colt's attention, as he seemed to bolt off in the direction of the baker's store immediately after Scrounger made his offer. Chuckling at that sight, the old stallion got back inside his home, preparing himself for a day out by finding his finest suit and putting it on. With that done, Scrounger made his way downstairs, with a spring in his step that he hadn't felt for many long years now. Opening his front door, he looked out onto the street and began to walk forward, talking aloud as he did so.

"I'll send the cake to Bob's home. It'll be a surprise. I'm sure Pip will love it."

His attention was then drawn to the sound of fast-approaching hoofsteps, and Scrounger looked up to see that the young colt had returned, and in record time no less. Behind him was a rather burly-looking stallion, who was carrying the cake in question on his back. It was certainly a beast of a dessert, that much was certain, and Scrounger couldn't help but smile at the sight. Walking forward, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small bag of bits, which he promptly offered to the colt, who accepted it happily before running off. Scrounger then looked up at the stallion before him, giving him a piece of paper that he'd written on earlier.

"You're to take the cake to this address. Don't let them know who bought it for them, okay?"

The stallion nodded, and then began to make his way down the street, towards the train station, which he'd need to go to in order to get the cake to Ponyville. Smiling to himself, Scrounger began to walk in the opposite direction, knowing that he had somewhere else of great importance to be today. Marching down with renewed vigour, Scrounger greeted many a passer-by on this lovely day, much to the confusion of those few ponies who actually knew him. Seeing a smile on this once-bitter stallion was, in many respects, quite unnerving. But nopony was about to call him out on it, so they merely greeted him back in return. However, as he approached the end of one particular street, he was met with an unexpected sight. It was none other than Lyra and Bonbon, whom Scrounger remembered from their visit to his office just yesterday. Sighing, he knew what he had to do now, and so took off his hat and spoke aloud once they walked close enough.

"Ladies. I hope today finds you well?"

The two mares turned to look at him, and once they realised who it was, they both looked taken aback by his words to them. Lyra looked more than a little upset at seeing him again, though Scrounger could not blame her, given his past words towards them. Bonbon on the other hoof was a touch more diplomatic.

"Mr Scrounger. I must say, I was not expecting to see you today."

Scrounger nodded at that.

"At the time we last met, nor would I. However, I find that I have had certain changes to my opinions as of late. And I was wondering...if your task of collecting donations is still ongoing?"

To say that the two mares looked shocked would have been a great understatement, as they both looked at each other to confirm that they'd both heard the same thing. After a while, Bonbon turned to him, still looking somewhat confused.

"Forgive me, Mr Scrounger, you just caught us by surprise."

Scrounger chuckled a little at that.

"Yes, I imagine I did. Now, as for the exact amount, I was thinking..."

He leaned forward and began whispering something in Bonbon's ear, to which Lyra tried to listen in also. After a few seconds, both mare's eyes widened with shock as they looked at each other yet again before facing Scrounger.

"Mis...Mr Scrounger! Are you sure about this?"

Scrounger, still smiling, nodded at that.

"I am indeed. A great many back-payments are included in that sum, I assure you."

The mares looked more than a little overwhelmed by this offer, as evidenced by Lyra's somewhat hushed tone as she spoke.

"Well...I don't know what to say."

Scrounger shook his head.

"There's no need for a thank you, or for praise. Just accept it, and make sure those orphans get everything they need."

Both mares smiled at that, shaking his hoof enthusiastically after he'd finished speaking. Smiling to himself, as well as feeling more than a little pleased at his actions, Scrounger began to walk off down the street again, oblivious to the looks of adoration that the two mares were giving him as he walked. Right now though, Scrooge had far more important things on his mind. Namely, going to a place he had very rarely been to before, but knew he had to go to today. So, the minutes rolled on as he continued walking, going as far and as fast as his old legs would carry him. Eventually though, he came upon his destination. A modestly-sized home near the centre of the city. The stallion looked upon it, at the front door, and hesitantly walked towards it. Had this been just the day before, he'd consider the action he was thinking of to be a mistake. But now, deep down, he understood how important this was.

So, rather nervously, he raised a hoof and began knocking at the door. He waited for a moment, then two, then three, before finally hearing the unmistakeable sound of hoofsteps on the other side. Steeling himself, he looked on as the door opened, revealing the owner of the house.

"Good morning! How may...I...help you?"

The stallion before Scrounger was none other than his nephew, Prancer, who looked upon the old-timer with a great deal of shock on his face. But Scrounger could not blame him for that. After all, given how their last words to each other had gone, the young stallion would have been fully justified in thinking that his Uncle would not want to be anywhere near him, especially today. Instead, here he was, waiting at his doorstep. It took a while, but Prancer soon collected himself, clearing his throat before speaking.

"Uncle Scrounger. I...I must confess...I had not expected to see you."

Scrounger nodded at that.

"I thought as much. But...I was wondering if...that offer for dinner was still available."

To say that Prancer was taken aback would have been a great understatement. In fact, if you were to tell him that day had become night, he'd have an easier time accepting that than what he'd just heard from his Uncle. After a few false starts, the nephew spoke up again.

"Well...yes. I mean, yes! Of course, uncle! We'd be honoured to have you join us!"

The enthusiasm in the young stallion was as clear as the smile he now wore, to which Scrounger couldn't help but smile back to. However, there were other things he had to say first.

"Then I'll be back this evening. There is someplace else I need to be first, Prancer."

His nephew nodded at that, giving Scrounger permission to depart. However, before he finished turning around, Scrounger considered something that, to his shame, he'd never considered doing before. To Prancer's shock, he watched as his Uncle moved forward, embracing him in a warm hug. Although shocked, Prancer was still able to get his words out.

"Uncle? Wha...what are you doing?"

Scrounger chuckled a little, not letting his nephew go as he did so.

"Something...I should have done. Many times before now."

Prancer still didn't understand what had come over his Uncle, just that this was something he'd hoped could happen between them for many long years now. Slowly, he began to return the hug, leading to a smile forming on both of their faces. Eventually, both stallions broke apart from one another, looking more than a little teary-eyed at what had just occurred between them. Wiping away those tears, Scrounger gave his nephew a final nod before starting to make his way down the street once more, Prancer smiling at him all the way. One last thing remained for Scrounger to do today. Something, perhaps, that was more important than anything else he could do. It took a while, but he soon came upon the train station of Manehattan. Buying a ticket, the old stallion hopped onto an outgoing train and began his journey.

A few hours passed, with Scrounger taking the time to enjoy the scenery as they passed it, realising for the first time just how good the countryside surrounding his city was. The train eventually managed to reach it's destination however, the station of the town of Ponyville, where Scrounger got off. This place was unfamiliar to him, and so he found himself asking around for where he needed to go. Thankfully, everypony here was more than willing to help, and it wasn't long before he was put on the right track. The place he was looking for was not too far from the station it turns out, and soon, Scrounger found himself looking upon the abode he had seen last night. The home of Bobbing Apples, his clerk. Smiling, he began to approach the home, only to be stopped when he heard the sound of laughter coming from within.

Peering through the front window, Scrounger smiled as he saw that his gift had already made it here, as Bob, his wife and Pip were all enjoying the massive cake. He made a mental note to congratulate that baker on getting it here so quickly. But then he remembered why he was here, and so cleared his throat and tried to get into character, putting on a face that seemed just as sour and bitter as he was always known for being. Raising a hoof, he knocked hard on the door, and then waited as the sound of hoofsteps approached it from the other side. The door opened with a squeak and Bob was on the other side, his face draining of all colour once he found out who it was that had arrived here.

"Mister Scrounger?! I...I...I...To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Scrounger let out a fake snort before moving forward, past Bob and stepping inside his home. Both Bob's wife and son stopped eating their share of the cake and looked upon the surly-looking visitor, seeming more than a little nervous at doing so. Although Scrounger would have liked nothing more than to smile at seeing Pip this way, happy and healthy, he knew he still needed to keep up the act, and so spoke aloud to Bob while his back was still turned to him.

"Mr Apples. Would you care to explain why you weren't at work this morning?"

The younger stallion looked nervously at his family before looking back at him employer, his wobbling voice made it clear that he was both terrified and confused about what he'd just heard.

"But...but...but Sir! You...you gave me the day off!"

Scrounger glared at him after hearing that.

"A day off?! Does that sound like the kind of thing I would do?!"

The look on Bob's face made it clear that he didn't know whether or not to say "yes" or "no" to that question, and beads of sweat were rolling down his face now. Scrounger approached him menacingly and began to speak again.

"Bobbing F Apples...there is only one thing I can do now."

The nervous clerk took a step backwards, practically cringing at what his employer was going to say to him. After deliberately leaving a pause in his words for dramatic effect, Scrounger spoke.

"I am going to...raise your salary!"

And in an instant, the whole place went as silent as a grave. All three of the ponies, father mother and son, all looked at each other, as if to try and make sure that they hadn't all heard wrong. Scrounger stifled his urge to chuckle at that sight, and instead he smiled warmly, far more so than he'd ever done to Bob before. He stepped forward and placed a hoof upon his shoulder.

"Yes, my friend. You heard me. I'm raising your salary. I think it's safe to say that it's more than overdue at this point."

Bob tried several times to get the words out, but found that he couldn’t. Instead, Scrounger found that it was his wife who spoke up, though her voice made it clear that she was just as shocked about this as her husband.

"I...I don't know what to say, Mr Scrounger. I just...don't know how we can thank you for this."

Scrounger nodded at that, and looked on as the mare and stallion before him both broke out into massive smiles, facing each other and embracing each other lovingly. It was a happy sight and one that Scrounger was pleased to have made possible. But his attention was then drawn to a tapping at his foreleg. Looking down, he saw that it was Pip, who smiled up at him.

"Thank you, Mister. Happy Hearth's Warming Day!"

The old stallion smiled, knowing that, with what he'd done here today, he'd taken the first step towards ensuring that this young lad before him would avoid that terrible fate he saw for him. And though they’d think him mad if he told them of his ghostly visits, he swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to ensure that this family, as well as everypony else he could reach out to, would have the happy lives. The kind of lives that those as good as they were deserved to have. He glanced over at Bob and his wife, who had broken apart from their hug and smiled at him in appreciation. Then, kneeling down, Scrounger took the young colt, Pip, onto his shoulder and lifted him up, speaking kinder words than he had done in many a year.

"And Happy Hearth's Warming Day to you too, Pip."

Pip smiled at that before speaking aloud to all of them.

"Faust bless us, everypony!"

Funeral for a Partner

Scrimper was dead, to begin with.

Even within the walls of this old building, the cold air outside was making it's way inside, rendering the place borderline freezing. The sun was already setting outside and that, coupled with the very small number of lit candles, created a very dour tone for this place. But then, being a funeral, that was perhaps appropriate. The hall it was taking place in was almost completely empty, a stark contrast to how most might want such a ceremony to be. The only ponies that could be seen were the minister, an elderly unicorn, the stallions carrying the casket, and a solitary earth pony stallion standing to one side. As one might expect, all were dressed in black, and as the pall bearers set the casket down at the end of the hall, the minister finally finished reciting his words, no doubt practiced many times. Words of farewell to the one who had passed on.

When those words were spoken however, he looked upon the lone stallion, who had been standing quietly this whole time. He was quite elderly, even more so than himself, and his black attire was a cheap, but nevertheless upper-class-looking suit, complete with a top-hat. He was grey in colour and bore white mutton-chops on the side of his head. His cutie mark was that of a trio of gold coins, suggesting some skill in finance. But his expression was completely blank as he stared intently at the open casket. Seeing that he had been the only one to attend this funeral, the Minister cast a glance over at the pall bearers before giving them a nod, a quiet declaration that they had permission to leave. Nodding back to him, they did exactly that, giving brief bows of respect to the silent stallion as they passed him by. The Minister then walked over to him and placed a hoof upon his shoulder.

"You have our sympathies, Mr Scrounger. Will...will you wish to speak a few words to the departed in private?"

The stallion did not look up at the Minister, but after a while he simply nodded, giving his answer. The Minister nodded back before giving him a quick pat on his shoulder, after which he began to withdraw from the chamber. Now, it was just Scrounger and the casket. Taking a few deep breaths, the stallion took a few steps forward, reaching the edge of the casket within mere moments and looked within. There, lying peacefully, was another earth pony stallion. Even older than he was, he was dressed in the finest suit the funeral services could offer. Upon his eyes were two coins, a tradition for departed souls it was said. But what drew the eye most was that there was a long white bandage, which appeared to tie the stallions mount shut, having been tied in a knot at the top of the head. Looking upon the unmoving form before him, Scrounger let out a deep sigh before speaking.

"Well then. I suppose this is it, eh Scrimper? Honestly, when they first told be you'd passed, I couldn't quite believe it. But..."

Looking down at the cadaver, Scrounger's face twisted into a very serious expression.

"...here you are, as dead as a doornail."

He let out a chuckle, albeit a very dry one.

"It'll be strange, running the business without you there. We've been partners for years, and now..."

Looking down upon his now-deceased partner, Scrounger's expression became somewhat sour.

"Ha, listen to me. Talking to the dead. If you were still here, Scrimper, you'd accuse me of sentiment or something. Still..."

His expression became one of discomfort, showing a clear lack of being used to saying such things as he was about to.

"You were a fine partner. Never gave em an inch. Always put the business first. I admired that. Few in this world have such conviction to their work, old friend."

A look of surprised passed Scrounger's eyes, causing him to let out another chuckle, though this one was more genuine than the first.

"Friend. It occurs to me that you're one of the only ponies I've ever been able to call that. Perhaps I should have said that while you were still here, but..."

Looking away briefly, it was obvious to anyone with sight that this was not a stallion who was comfortable in having to talk this way to anypony, even one he'd had a long business relationship with. However, as he pondered on all of this, his face became a somewhat disgruntled one, as he looked back down at the dead pony before him.

"You should hear what all those ponies we know have been saying to me recently, Scrimper. Oh, it's so TERRIBLE for this to happen on Hearth's Warming Eve! You must feel DREADFUL! As if this holiday somehow changes what happened or makes it worse. It's always the same, every year. You know me, Scrimper. I could never do with that kind of talk. And now...

He couldn't bring himself to finish that sentence, instead looking around. Gazing upon what remained of his old partner was becoming increasingly difficult for the stallion, that much was clear. He knew he had to offer himself some kind of distraction for all this, and so looked around, eventually gazing upon a piece of paper near the casket. Scrounger knew this immediately as one of his duties as a witness to this ceremony. The certificate of death. Sighing, he took a nearby quill, dipped it in an inkwell and then wrote his name at the bottom of the page. A rather grim duty, but one he had to perform all the same. However, his eye then caught a nearby bottle of wine, standing on a lone table on the other side of the room. A thought came to him as he began to make his way over to it, opening the bottle and pouring himself a modest glass before returning to the casket. Raising the glass, he spoke to Scrimper once more.

"Well, here's to you, partner."

Taking a sip of the drink, Scrounger looked upon his old partner, his expression somewhat softer than he was used to giving, before speaking in a hushed tone.

"Here's hoping that, wherever you are right now...you'll be rewarded for all the work you put into this life."