//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2: The First Spirit 
// Story: A Hearth's Warming Carol 
// by Nocturnal Reverie 
//------------------------------//

Snowfall Frost awoke with a jerk. The night’s events still fresh in her mind, she rose from her position at once, her eyes immediately finding her clock.


12:51


She felt her heart sink, remembering Miracle’s words. Finding the idea of busying herself more appealing than simply lying in wait, she got up and rekindled the fire that had died while she slept. She lost herself in the flickering fire for a moment, the echoes of ghostly wails haunting her ears.

More out of curiosity than anything, she looked back to her window, finding she could see the neighboring rooftop, the previous fog having dissipated. She pulled herself toward the sill, gazing out at the night that was now peaceful despite the chaos she had previously perceived. Out in the street, a single lamp remained lit, illuminating the house it guarded and the street for only a small area before the rest of the town was swallowed by the darkness of the dead of night.

Snowfall’s ear twitched when the fire gave a particularly harsh snap, and she hesitated before turning to check on it, half-expecting to see her unknown visitor sitting in her fireside chair. When she saw nothing, she looked back to the street, where she blinked in surprise at the sudden intensity with which the street lamp was now glowing. She stared at the steadily-growing light of the little fire within its glass frame, as if it were heralding the arrival of some important being.

A moment later, Snowfall Frost realized it may have been doing just that.

A small movement caught her eye from the house door the lamp stood before. Without disturbing the door itself, a hoof stepped through it, a pony following close behind.

An earth pony mare stepped from the house, eyes to the cobblestone sidewalk as if in thought. Her mane was done up in twin braids that hung on either side of her head, a winter bonnet securely tied under her chin. The dress she wore was an old-fashioned one, yet belonged perfectly in the season of Hearth’s Warming. One may have even said nothing was out of place about the mare, and Snowfall may have agreed with them, had it not been for the singular fact that this mare did not cast a shadow.

Indeed, even as she got closer to the street lamp, which in turn grew brighter as she approached, the light’s rays seemed to dance through her figure, brushing the stone below. Just as Snowfall began to grapple with the odd sight, the mare stopped directly under the streetlamp, raised her head, and turned it in Snowfall’s direction. Snowfall’s eyes widened as the mare’s piercing gaze locked with her own, and Snowfall felt as if her very soul were being scrutinized.

Snowfall Frost barely had time to feel her own shock before her clock rang out with a singular ding-dong. She broke the chilling stare, eyes instead flying to her clock.


1:00


Snowfall swallowed, her eyes returning to the figure in the street, only to find she had disappeared. She felt her already tremulous heart leap to her throat, and wildly scanned the area to try and find the mare.

“Lookin’ fer somepony?”

Snowfall could have died right then and there. She gave a shout as she startled, leaping to the side away from where the voice had suddenly appeared. She crashed into the small table sat in the corner, knocking it over and landing painfully between its legs.

She looked up to find, with crooked spectacles, the very same mare from under the streetlamp. The mare regarded Snowfall with a peaceful expression, finding neither humor nor remorse in the display she had innately caused. Standing between the fireplace and the window, the mare stepped closer to Snowfall, dress lightly flowing in a breeze Snowfall could not sense. In her panicked, heightened state, Snowfall noticed her visitors' hooves did not seem to touch the ground, but instead stopped an inch above it. Still, she walked, giving quite an impressive illusion of organic movement.

Swallowing, Snowfall managed, “Are you the first Spirit I was told about?”

“That Ah am,” she responded with a thick country accent. “Ah am the Spirit of Hearth’s Warming Past.” The Spirit offered a hoof to Snowfall, who—after several attempts to pick herself up—accepted.

“Do you always scare the life out of your visitors?” Snowfall quipped.

“Are you really one to question the ways of the Spirits?” The Ghost of Hearth’s Warming Past questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Snowfall gulped. “No, I, uh…I didn’t mean to offend.”

The Spirit smirked, letting out a chuckle from her fun at Snowfall’s expense. Her fear subsided enough for her to regain both her composure and her words.

“I must be honest,” Snowfall confessed. “I don’t entirely know why we must go to the past. Everypony who can speak can recite the history of the holiday from memory.”

“Well, then,” the Ghost replied, “‘Sa good thing we ain’t goin’ to Hearth’s Warming’s past.” She stepped over to the window, which rose up without so much as a waved hoof from the Spirit.

“Then what past are we to travel to?” Snowfall inquired.

The Spirit smiled. “Yours.”

Before Snowfall could react to such a statement, the Spirit bent its head toward its flank, where a coiled rope sat wound. Rearing up, the rope whipped up and around, the lasso forming and flaring with ease, before the Spirit snapped it forward. Snowfall Frost braced to be slapped by the rope, only to find it pass through her forelegs and fasten itself about her middle.

With a foal-like gleam in the Spirit’s eyes, it leapt through the window, Snowfall letting out a cry of terror as the lasso snapped taut and pulled her out the window behind the Spirit.

“Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing!” The Spirit called back. “I ain’t dropped a pony yet!”

“Yet?!” Snowfall Frost returned. The Spirit galloped upward, dragging Snowfall Frost behind it. Fearfully, yet unable to fight the steep trajectory, Snowfall grappled for the leading rope as they approached the cloud cover, breaking through the suspended precipitation.

All at once, Snowfall felt her head swim in a sudden vertigo, seeing they were now no longer going in an upwards direction. Instead, after passing through the clouds in a straight path, she found herself looking down upon a little town that was instantaneously familiar to her.

The Spirit of Hearth’s Warming Past slowed to a trot as they approached the ground, the two touching down upon a cobblestone road that led directly to its main gate.

Snowfall felt a stirring in her chest the likes of which she had not experienced in years. She gazed upon the little road, the little town that she would know anywhere.

“This…this can’t be,” she breathed. “I…this is my hometown.” Her breath caught in her throat, gaining the Spirit’s attention.

“Ya alright, sugarcube?” the Spirit teased.

“Fine,” Snowfall squeaked out, hiding her tear with a scratch of the cheek. “I don’t recall the last time I thought about this place.”

“Guess that means it’s tahme for a refresher,” the Spirit chuckled.

A clattering of wooden wheels made Snowfall whirl around, her eyes lighting upon a stallion pulling a cart filled with nearly a dozen foals, all giggling cheerfully as the stallion galloped into the little town. With a shout of joy, Snowfall called out to the stallion, only for him to ignore her as they approached.

“They can’t hear ya,” explained the Spirit of Hearth’s Warming Past. “They’re only reflections of what was, nothing more.”

Snowfall understood, eyes alight in a way that appeared foreign on her so-long pinched face. Each face she saw was one she recognized, and she called out each name, galloping beside the cart until she saw the face that made her stop, both verbally and physically.

A little unicorn filly say in a dress made by her mother, laughing and singing along with her friends, her purple and teal mane whipping about in the chill breeze that threatened to yank away her shallow cap. Snowfall Frost stared at her younger self as she sped away in the cart, the Spirit of Hearth’s Warming Past catching up to her.

“Ain’t it amazin’ how one pony can change over time?” the Spirit asked.

Snowfall Frost did not respond.

“Maybe we should catch up and see what those youngin’s are up to,” the Spirit suggested. At Snowfall’s hollow nod, the world around them seemed to bend and stretch. The scene rushed past them, and Snowfall Frost watched in awe as the little town where she spent her earliest years of childhood whirled past her faster than she could comprehend it.

The two rushed toward the old schoolhouse, and Snowfall cringed as the doors blew open, and they sped inside, the scene jerking to the side and sending them down the right hall and through the second door on the left. It was a path Snowfall knew by heart, and was one she frankly wished she had forgotten.

The schoolhouse room blurred into clarity, leaving Snowfall with a brief moment of dizziness as the world came to a grinding halt. The Spirit did not ask if Snowfall recognized the room, and Snowfall made no indication that she did. Such a thing was made obvious when excited chatter approached the door.It opened, and the excited foals rushed in, plopping a box overflowing with Hearth’s Warming decorations onto the teacher’s desk. The younger Snowfall smoothed out a piece of paper.

“Okay,” she beamed, “if we wanna get the whole school in two hours, we need to split into teams.

Snowfall chuckled as her younger self gave out the instructions, her eyes falling to one colt that was smaller than the rest of them.

“What about me, sissy?” asked the amethyst colt with gray hair once Snowfall had finished giving out teams, the duos rushing off to their assigned rooms.

“You’re with me, Blizzard!” the younger Snowfall replied happily, the younger colt’s face lighting up at the news.

As they got to work, Snowfall couldn’t stop staring at the little colt, her younger brother eagerly helping the little Snowfall Frost as they tried their best to reach high enough to put as much tinsel around the room as they could.

“That Blizzard Gale seems mighty excited to be with his big sister,” the Spirit observed, her voice ever so slightly strained.

“He was,” Snowfall responded. “No matter what, he wanted to spend time with me. Even in death, all he wanted was for me to be there.”

“And…did he have any foals?” the Spirit pried, though it already knew the answer.

“Two,” Snowfall answered. “Two daughters. He passed soon after the second was born, about ten years ago.”

The Spirit of Hearth’s Warming Past gave the mare a sympathetic smile, but was unable to offer condolences before a deep gray magical aura surrounded the door and opened it. In walked a unicorn stallion with a deep gray coat and an even darker mane. His face bore a cold that made Snowfall Frost shiver, before an icy realization overcame her.

Was this how others saw her?

“What in Equestria’s name are you two doing?” the stallion grumbled in a smooth, impenetrable voice.

His sudden presence made the two foals stop, before little Snowfall looked up at the stallion with the widest smile she could muster.

“We’re decorating for Hearth’s Warming, Professor!” she exclaimed, presenting one of the decorations–a star-shaped ornament–to the stallion.

The stallion “humphed”, taking the ornament in his own magic and lifting it to his face. After a moment, the ornament was thrown down, making Snowfall–both young and old–flinch.

“Why would you waste your time on something so insignificant as Hearth’s Warming?” he questioned.

“B-but, it’s not!” Snowfall protested. “It’s so much fun! And important, too!”

The stallion scoffed. “Nothing in this world is both fun and important. Something as insignificant as this holiday should not even be a thought in your mind. All it does is keep you away from your studies and make you closer to making nothing of yourself.”

Snowfall’s little face fell. “But…but…”

“The smartest thing you can do,” the stallion said, leaning down close to the filly, “is forget these trite niceties and do something useful with your life before you become an unfocused, irresponsible foal for the rest of your life.” With his quip done, he stood, leaving the room and slamming the door behind him.

Blizzard Gale looked up at his distraught big sister. “Snowfall, don’t listen to him. He just doesn't know how to have any fun.”

Little Snowfall’s eyes looked up, following where her teacher had gone, a light somewhere deep inside her eyes struggling to stay alight. Finally, she looked at her little brother and managed a smile.

“Yeah,” she replied half-heartedly. “Let’s finish decorating.”

As they continued, the Spirit looked to the older Snowfall Frost, who held the same look in her eyes as her younger self. “Sometimes things that are said to us at such a young age stick with us forever.”

Snowfall could only numbly nod. “I never realized this was where I began thinking like that.”

The Spirit smiled again. “How about we look at another Hearth’s Warming?”

Snowfall nodded, and the Spirit of Hearth’s Warming past put a hoof to her shoulder, and at once the world began to change.

The schoolhouse gained an unfocused state, the walls and floor around Snowfall and the Spirit morphing and expanding until it sharpened back into focus, Snowfall left speechless as she stared up at a figure walking along the wall on the other side of the large bakery. A lanky earth pony, he held a clipboard in his hoof, a pencil bobbing in his mouth as he counted the inventory.

“Oh, goodness!” Snowfall exclaimed, a grin lighting up her face, momentarily forgetting the heartbreak she had experienced. “I can’t believe it. Mr. Figgypudding, just as he was twenty years ago!”

No sooner had she said it, the clock above the stallion chimed 6, and his eyes lit up as he made a final mark in his list.

“Alright, you two!” he called over his shoulder as he put the clipboard down. “Drop everything! It’s Hearth’s Warming Eve, and we have preparations to make!”

Snowfall beamed at the remark, before starling as the younger her passed right through her and into the space. Following close behind was a pink earth pony with a mauve mane, both laughing brightly as they worked together to shove aside tables and place table-sat items on their respective shelves.

Snowfall gasped in delight. “And Sugar Flake—oh, I haven’t seen her in ages!”

Mr. Figgypudding busied himself with closing the shop in the more official sense, handling the business while his employees handled the decorating, Snowfall grabbing three brooms at once in her magic and sweeping the floor, Sugar Flake wiping down the tables and beginning to pull out the neatly creased table linens.

The younger Snowfall and her fellow coworker had just finished lining the tables with the bright white linens and holly when the cooks arrived. Greeting them joyously, Mr. and Mrs. Figgypudding, along with their two apprentices, assisted the cooks in setting the tables, filling them to almost overflowing with the glorious meal fit for a royal court. Teas, cakes, punches, puddings, and an array of delicacies were arranged about the tables, before Mr. Figgypudding declared all was well, and sent the two apprentices on their way to prepare themselves for the party about to take place.

As the sun set over the horizon, ponies from all over the little town gathered in the bakery, the room growing warmer by the minute simply with the presences that made themselves known. As they trotted in, Snowfall named nearly all of them. The innkeeper, the librarian, the shopkeep, the farmer and his new wife. Even the cellist, who immediately stayed within the background as she warmed up her instrument, was not lost to Snowfall’s eyes, and was named all the same.

“A dance, if you would!” Mr. Figgypudding called. The cellist nodded gladly, flourishing her bow and beginning an upbeat tune. Introducing the first dance of the evening was none other than Mr. Figgypudding and Mrs. Figgypudding. The two complimented each other both in appearance and in movement, as if fate itself had smiled upon the pairing that was the yellow and orange husband and the blue and pink wife. The two fell in step so well together that they appeared to float above the wooden floor, the very air of the dance carrying them about the room to the stamps of time provided by the other ponies present. Snowfall herself watched the wondrous phenomenon as if it were the first time she had witnessed it, not even realizing when her own hooves stomped the floorboards beneath her, falling in time with the echoes of the past she found herself in.

As the music picked up, so did the movements of the hosts. Though they were joined on all sides by other couples partaking in the dance, the world seemed to only have eyes for Mr. and Mrs. Figgypudding, fluid motions picking up in time with the music until they themselves seemed to be a force of nature all on their own. The impossibly fast music was only matched by their impossibly fast movements, the two spinning and stepping around each other as the music wound up to its climax, before ending in a singular, wondrous chord, whereupon a pair of stallions behind the cellist had to grab the gray mare before she collapsed to the floor. Stomps of applause erupted from every pony present, the cellist composing herself enough to bow, down a glass of water, and begin a more comfortable selection to allow conversation as all took a break for fellowship.

Snowfall Frost found herself laughing rather joyously at the conversations being had, sometimes remembering the spoken lines so well that she uttered them in the same manner as the original speaker. The Spirit next to her smiled warmly at the light that seemed to now pour from every fiber of Snowfall Frost’s being. At once, the cellist having gained a second wind, a tune was uplifted, and the alchemist chuckled like a foal as ponies took their positions to begin dancing with their partners. Snowfall busied herself with moving alongside her younger self as she moved and twisted with a young stallion who was also partnerless.

She only faltered in her emotions for a moment when she felt the Spirit’s presence move away from her. Snowfall found the Spirit of Hearth’s Warming Past mere meters away, simply joining in the lovely dance being had by the farmer and his wife. Her eyes were alight with emotions similar to Snowfall’s own as she seemed to blend beautifully with the two who could not see her, simultaneously appearing out of place and right at home with the perfect pair. Snowfall held a brief moment of wondering as she briefly recalled having seen the two dancing on opposite sides of a room, not even close enough to touch, before the two had suddenly announced their marriage. She found déjà vu in the thought that this was their first time truly dancing with the other.

Her smile returning, Snowfall Frost pranced about as she followed her younger self. As the crowd moved, she followed them, until she reached the Ghost of Hearth’s Warming Past, whereupon she pulled the Spirit away from the infatuated duo and started anew the steps to the dance, the Spirit chuckling as they danced, falling in place with the crowd as the song carried out to its end.

On and on the night went, Snowfall Frost watching and reliving the night as if she had never left the scene. As the clock struck the hour prior to midnight, the guests began their goodbyes and meandered out of the workshop. Snowfall watched her younger self bid others goodnight, and turned back to the Spirit, her elation nearly leaving her breathless.

“Ah see ya had a good time,” the Spirit of Hearth’s Warming Past observed. 

“You seem surprised,” Snowfall returned breathlessly.

The Spirit grinned wryly. “Ah reckon you could say Ah am. Figgypudding spent all those bits on the meal, and you didn’t gain anything in return for the help ya gave.”

“We’ll, such a thing didn’t matter!” Snowfall happily declared, as if the Spirit could be pronounced insane for implying such a thing. “His happiness building up our own was enough to make it through the entire season, and not once did he make us feel in…inferior…” Unease snuck into her voice, silencing her.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout there, sugarcube?” the Spirit questioned.

“Nothing,” Snowfall waved off. “I was just…thinking about my clerk.”

The Spirit watched Snowfall’s face, smiling to itself when it found the first traces of compassion Snowfall seemed to express for her poor employee. Still, she felt the second Spirit’s time drawing close, and knew better than to keep her waiting.

“Come on,” the Spirit insisted, “let’s see another Hearth’s Warming.”

Snowfall agreed, her spirit now more subdued. The Spirit took Snowfall’s hoof and led her outside, the scene brightening as they approached the door. Upon exiting, they found themselves not on the stone streets of the little town, but on a snowy hill right outside it.

Snowfall’s heart fell. She recognized this scene, as well. She trudged up the hill without the Spirit’s bidding, arriving at the back of her younger self, who look upon another with sorrowful eyes.

A golden stallion with orange mane and bright blue eyes faced her younger self. His wiry beard and mane were matched only by his spectacles, large and round perched upon his muzzle, wearing a thick cerulean cape that gave him the appearance of an important wizard.

“You cannot be serious, Starbright,” the younger Snowfall pleaded.

“I’m afraid I must be,” the stallion replied. “Our destinies are taking us two different directions, Snowfall Frost. How can we expect to be together when our lives cannot be as parallel as we want them to be?”

“But doesn’t love reach beyond all boundaries?” Snowfall egged on. “Isn’t there any way we can still be together, even if our paths are not perfectly beside each other?” The younger Snowfall’s voice began to gain a desperation that only comes from one about to lose something very dear to them.

“I am afraid not,” Starbright replied. “Make no mistake, my feelings for you have not changed. But if we are both to be happy in this life, we must go our separate ways.”

“But I am happiest with you!” Snowfall declared tearfully.

“And I cannot ask you to give up your best trait to be dragged around by me for all of your days,” Starbright returned. “And I know you cannot ask the same of me. Can you, Snowfall?”

A pause as the unicorn tried to compose herself. “No,” she admitted, “I cannot.”

Starbright’s eyes finally gained their own look of sadness. “Goodbye, Snowfall Frost.” the stallion turned around, levitating a trunk beside him as he made his way down the hill, heading for the train station.

The Snowfall Frost within the scene broke her stoic facade, collapsing into the snow, body trembling under the weight of quiet sobs.

“Please, Spirit,” Snowfall Frost croaked. “No more.”

“There is still more we can see,” the Spirit offered. “These are only echoes of what’s already happened.”

“I am aware of that,” Snowfall Frost quipped. “I’d rather not relive every time my heart has been broken.”

Silence, before the Spirit nodded. “Touché.”

Without another word, the Spirit grabbed its lasso once more, flourishing it as it whipped about in its perfect ring. Wind picked up around the duo, stirring up the surrounding snow. It billowed around them, thickening rapidly until Snowfall could no longer see her hoof in front of her, let alone her grieving past self.

Just as the snow seemed to reach a neverending crescendo of white, it died down, dissipating before flurrying out of existence. Snowfall blinked, surprised to find herself back in her bedchambers.

The Spirit stepped toward the window. “Wait, Spirit!” Snowfall called out. At its pause, she asked, “Where will you go now?”

The Spirit of Hearth’s Warming Past gave Snowfall a patient smile, as if simply parting from a friend. “There are others who need a reminder of the past every now and again, ‘specially on Hearth’s Warming. I follow the wind, and go to those it takes me to.”

Snowfall felt several questions rise in her mind, but knew none would receive an answer as she simply nodded.

The Spirit’s smiled deepened. “I would suggest thinkin’ over what ya’ve seen, and rest up. The Spirit of Hearth’s Warming Present will be comin’ soon, and you’re gonna need all the energy you can get for her.” Without any further words, nor waiting for a reply from Snowfall Frost, the Spirit of Hearth’s Warming Past trotted up and through the window, which promptly closed upon her leaving.

Snowfall stared only a moment, the whispers of her past echoing through her mind. Overcome with an odd mix of longing nostalgia and exhaustion, she trudged to her bed, and promptly collapsed.