It's Christmas Eve and – for once – all is calm. The snow lays crisp on the ground ready for: younger children to joyfully run around; throw snowballs and leave snow angels imprinted into the white sheet. The trees are left bare, asides from the snow that has mounted up on each branch. A short distance ahead lays a very familiar mansion, with walls that stretch into the sky.
Inside, Virion and Frederick share a single chair; huddling against each other for warmth; each of their hands gripping onto the significant others' back. Still, they shiver, refusing to spend a penny of their fortune even if it means freezing to death.
Ever since the Halloween party, the two had become somewhat reclusive, often only seen out buying food or taking a jog – sometimes a sprint in Frederick's case. Their friends? They had not visited since, they haven't been allowed past the door that had to be put back in its hinges.
In fact, even in the streets people struggle to approach the two. No pauper has had one of their hairs trace along the fine materials that the two wear; no child has dared ask them for their ball back when they kick it onto their yard and their single worker fears even mentioning the idea of getting a raise in his pay check.
Knock, knock, knock.
The quiet tapping of the front door forces the two men to acknowledge that there is somebody who dare bothers them. The couple slowly climb to their feet, but the uninvited guest has already invited themselves inside!
"Merry Christmas, Virion! Merry Christmas, Frederick!" A cheerful voice exclaims. Standing in front of the couple is none other than Captain Falcon, who is baring a grin that is the warmest and brightest thing in the entire room.
"Bah!" Frederick says.
"Humbug!" Virion finishes, as they both stand, arms crossed. This response causes Douglas to frown.
"Virion, I thought you loved Christmas!" He pauses. "I remember one year you got so drunk, that you were convinced you were one of Santa's reindeer – Vixen, I think – and you climbed onto a roof, before diving off!" The man erupts into laughter. "You got stuck in a tree when you jumped off and you chucked your cravat at a snowman, before shouting 'REINDEER RIGHTS – FREE US FROM NICK!'"
Frederick chuckles slightly, before Captain Falcon speaks once more.
"I remember this other time, I put some whisky in Frederick's cup of tea." He tries to contain his laughter, failing once more. "He got so drunk that he tried climbing into one of the neighbouring houses through the chimney – AND HE GOT STUCK!"
This time, Virion laughs quietly, thankful that he isn't the only one who is being acknowledged for his drunken mishaps.
"Douglas, the past is the past and Christmas is just another day of the year." Frederick says bluntly.
"But-"
"Bro, Frederick has a point. The time for all of that has surely passed us by; it is time for us to preserve the memories." Virion pauses. "You know where the door is, and-"
"I thought we were going to spend Christmas together – all of us!" Falcon interrupts.
"It seems you thought incorrectly. Not even Ashley will be seeing our faces this Christmas."
"Virion, you can't just leave your adoptive child alone at Christmas – Frederick, please talk some sense into him!" Falcon pleads.
"She shan't be alone; she has her significant other by her side and two others. She does not need our presence-" Frederick is interrupted.
"She will want you both there! We are all a family! We all need to cherish our time together – even Ike will be there!" The bounty hunter tries to persuade.
"Good day, Douglas." Virion says.
"Bro, it's a time for giving, forgiving, loving, sharing – even Gaius is sharing his candy-"
"Good day, Douglas." Frederick repeats.
"We can throw another party to welcome in the New Year altogether and-"
"Good day, Douglas!" Both Virion and Frederick say; their tone slightly increased in volume.
Captain Falcon looks from Frederick to Virion, slowly.
"Call me, if you change your mind." Saddened, the man turns and walks away…
The 'great' knight gently closes the door, though it still makes a creaking sound as it does so, and the two turn away to head back into their bitterly cold lounge. Another room is connected to the lounge; it is considerably different. It is a mere eighth of the size of the lounge, darker, damper, colder and even lonelier.
Their one worker sits in there – alone – his only company being the measly fire that flickers and barely stays ablaze. Thankfully, the single worker was draped in fur that he had acquired from eating a wild yeti (his diet has always been quite questionable)! Even so, the worker shivered on, counting every penny and planning out Virion and Frederick's minimal survival diet, so they could preserve their money further. The worker was also persuading the many debt sharks that chase Virion to allow him to pay them in small instalments; some of which even made it so he had to pay a small percentage of a coin. Still, the worker earnt an amount of 50 coins, which – in some lands – is worth one tenth of a gold bar, and though this may seem like a small fortune, it is not.
Another knock sounds, though this time, the two men are on their feet and at the door in mere seconds! Once there, they open it and-
"Good day, Virion! Good day, Frederick!" A voice cheers, the festivity being carried through every syllable.
Of course, this was none other than Ike; who was spreading the Christmas joy throughout the many lands. He did this every year and children's faces brightened every time he graced the street. Every person he crossed, he would meet and greet with a 'Merry Christmas!' Every child he saw he gave a small gift to; even if it was sometimes just a conker to roll on the floor, and every person in poverty knew his face; for he always ensured the poorer folks had at least a banquet to feast upon, year after year.
"Nya, and Merry Christmas!" Another voice cheered.
With the festive man, is Jibanyan the Christmas cat. The orange cat often was known as the acquaintance to the jolly man and young children loved him just as much as they loved ripping their presents open on Christmas morning! He often helped with finding charitable donations, however the cat was best known for decorating some of the dirtiest streets in town. Even the roughest areas were covered in: tinsel; holly; wreaths; Christmas trees; baubles and sometimes even fake snow.
"I presume you wish to make a donation, my friends!" Ike smiles, already preparing his pen and a piece of paper to take note of the request.
"How much do you want to donate?" The cat questions rather excitedly.
"We wish to donate none." Virion says bluntly.
"Ah yes, you wish to be anonymous, as usual?" Ike asks; his smile not faltering once.
"No. We are not donating a single penny – humbug to Christmas!" Frederick exclaims.
This takes the legend by shock! Even his eyes widen (he also very nearly gasps)!
"Imagine those children's happy faces when they are digging into the masterful feast; eyes a twinkle and heart a flutter." Ike tries to persuade. "Wouldn't you want to be the two who made them so…"
"Overjoyed, grateful, hopeful?" Jibanyan finishes his question.
"Children are sticky fingered, ungrateful and hopeless!" Virion shouts.
"Virion, they may die if you don't-"
"Good, then the surplus population can decrease; spare us taxpayers." Frederick interrupts Ike, which leads to momentary silence.
"Now… Be gone!" Virion snaps.
"What happened to you both? Naga, save you…" Ike mutters, before he gently places his hand on Jibanyan's back and urges himself and the festive cat away from the mansion; leaving Virion and Frederick to close the door on them and the rest of the, less than wonderful, world.
A few hours later, and the sky is blackened by the thick clouds. Touching the clouds is an antique bell tower; older than the Holy book of Naga. The bell inside is cracked ever so slightly, but still it lets out nine, melancholy chimes; each of which echoing throughout the many rooms of the mansion.
Upon hearing the sound, the yeti-looking employee closes one of the many books that he has accounted for. Excitedly, he puts on his rag like hat and scruffy scarf and proceeds to blow out what is left of the tiny flame that was supposed to be a fire.
As he goes to pace out the door, he is suddenly stopped by – you guessed it – Virion and Frederick; causing him to anxiously gulp.
"We guess you should have the whole day off tomorrow." Frederick says, bluntly.
"W-Well, only if it best suits you." The employee responds, his words quaking as much as his legs.
"It does not. Why should poor folks go make themselves merry at Christmas? What gives them the right?" Virion snaps, before sighing. "Be here all the earlier the next day."
"Yes, sir! Of course, sir! Thank you, sirs!" The man says frantically; dashing out of the door quicker than a young child can unwrap a gift.
The two men exchange a look with one another when suddenly they hear a quiet and gentle voice, that was singing harmoniously.
"Silent Night, Holy Night.
All is calm, all is bright.
Round yon virgin mother and child.
Holy infant so tender and mild.
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Sleep in heavenly peace." The caroller, no older than ten, sings; a twinkle in both of their hopeful eyes. The young (and presumably poor) boy goes to continue onto another verse, but is interrupted by a booming voice:
"Away with you! Away!"
Frightened, the caroller does as he is told and sprints away from the mansion of misery; just as penniless as he was when he arrived on the doorstep.
Once more, Frederick closes the door gently and the two men take a gentle stroll into the living area (if it can be considered a space worth living in). In the significant others arms again, Virion finds himself staring at one of the lounge's doors. Hanging there would normally be the knocker, that often goes unnoticed by the couple. It is considered an ancient artefact, which has been carried down through the many generations of Frederick's family – and it has most recently been passed down to himself.
However, the archer's eyes lay not on the knocker, but on a familiar face, with two pieces of hair standing tall on the front of their head. Virion's grip tightens on the other; discomforting him.
"Virion, what is the matter?" Frederick questions, slightly irritated.
"The knocker – it's a face!" The duke says alarmingly.
"A face?" Calmly, the ex-knight turns his attention to the door where the knocker would be. Attention now at the door he states what he sees: "Virion, you must be seeing things. There is no face present."
Virion goes to object; that is until he finds that Frederick is correct. Hanging there is the same ancient artefact, coated in a thick layer of dust.
Still, the tiny fire flickers onwards. If not for the others warmth the two men would more than likely freeze – or end up with aching, breaking fingers. Despite feeling paranoid, Virion closes his eyes in hope of forgetting what he may or may not have seen.
Frederick, a man of impeccable build and strength remains awake, however, eyes still examining every detail in the room. He knew that his significant other was not one for jesting about such matters.
Until, finally, they stop and lay on an old clock. It sits near to the fire – motionless. It has been like that for months; if not years. Yet he found himself strangely drawn to the bell, which was worth nothing in sentimental value or in financial value. Much to Frederick's astonishment, and well-hidden dread and fear, the bell began to move; swaying side to side. Unlike Frederick; who very nearly shuddered at its earie chime; its gentle ring soothed the archer, who presumed it to be normal.
Until, suddenly every bell in the house began ringing loudly; each one echoing through the bare corridors (as well as causing Virion to fall out of the seat and onto the floor)! The door to the living area which had been locked and double-locked shut, suddenly threw itself open! Door open wide, white smoke began pouring through, and a shadowed figure begins to walk through; at the same time the bells fall silent.
Frederick jumps onto his feet; and Virion into the significant others arms, as he quivers in utter fear. The great knight holds him close, trying to keep a brave face.
Finally, the figure stops, and this allows the two men to begin to properly identify its familiar features. The spiked hair and formal look, which would be expected from such a character. Such a character would have been found in the courtroom – until last Halloween, of course. However, their usual attire was draped in heavy looking chains; locks; cuffs; padlocks, all of which are linked together.
"I'm Apollo Justice and I am far from being fine!" The ghost says, before drifting to rest in the chair besides the two startled men.
"Apollo, you…Frederick!" Virion says, struggling to comprehend that the spirit still lurks around their house.
"What are you doing here? Don't you have an afterlife to get to, Apollo?" Frederick questions, cradling the archer in his arms protectively.
"You'd think so, wouldn't you? But…Nope." Apollo gets up, jingling the chains he is covered in. "See these? These are the chains I forged throughout my short-lived life." He pauses, allowing the men to really examine the finer details (which causes Virion to question how sober he is).
"'How did you forge such heavy chains?' Frederick! I thought you would never ask-"
"I didn't." He interrupts.
"I treat people poorly as I went through life. I shan't go into how I was so awful, but the point is: I can't enter the afterlife, because the chains weigh me down. They prevent me from moving on!" He stops, his tone deepening and his eyes darkening. "If you two don't alter your ways, your chains will be worse than my own. I tell a lie… Yours are already worse than my own."
"Lies!" Virion exclaims, shakily.
"Do you really want to take that risk, Virion?" The ex-attorney questions.
"Is there a way to make our chains weigh less?" Frederick asks.
"Alter your ways."
"How?" Both men say rapidly!
"You will be visited by three spirits over the course of three nights – commencing tonight. The first comes at 1:00, the next at 2:00 and the final shall visit at 3:00." Apollo Justice responds.
"Apollo, please, tell us more. Is it too late?"
"I must go, now."
As the two men go to frantically ask more questions; the spirit disappears without so much of a trace…
"Frederick?"
"Yes, Virion?"
"I think I just peed myself." The great knight drops the archer onto the chair in seconds.
"Go wash and get some fresh clothes on."
The archer gets up and begins to head to another room, when he suddenly shouts: "I love you!"
"I hope one of the ghosts kill you."
Hours drag by as if they were lasting for years at a time; all the while both men fail to grab a single wink of sleep. At every quarter of an hour, a bell sounds and startles them awake – until finally it strikes the hour of 1:00.
Slowly, the echoes fall to silence and… Nothing happens, or so they believed.
"Boo." Frightened, Virion tries to throw himself off of the bed, however he instead finds himself firmly held in both of Frederick's hands as if he was a battering ram.
Standing before them was a slender figure, dressed in mainly black. Wrapped around their neck was a crimson red scarf; which also hid parts of the ghostly person's face. Their hair was as blackened as the clothes they wore and any person could imagine it blowing gently in the wind.
"I am Vincent: Ghost of Christmas Past." The ghostly man holds out a piece of his long, black coat. "Hold on, or ignore your friend, I do not care which one you both choose."
"Oh, are you that artist? Vincent Van Go-away." Virion says.
"It's just Vincent, the artist is Vincent Van Gogh and you are an idiot. Now, grab on and quit wasting the time we have." The Ghost of Christmas Past is blunt, but his words work a treat, as both Virion and Frederick latch their hands onto the material the ghost wears.
As the ghost edges towards the window, he grabs a hold of each of the men's hands, however Vincent is stopped in his footsteps when a heel grinds into the ground.
"Vincent, we are mortal and I did not mean it when I wished my significant other dead." Frederick says.
"You feel my hand, do you not?" Vincent says in response. "You must feel that within your heart also." Soon after these words are spoken; the spirits trust is gained and the two men find themselves being led through the wall – amazingly neither are crushed; nor are they dropped and left to plummet and die.
However, once they were through the wall, they did not find themselves standing above or on the usual 'House Virion' soil. Instead, they found themselves standing on a path of cobbles leading up to a large and sturdy looking building. This was like a trip down memory lane for the archer; who was educated here.
"Frederick, I can't believe this, I was practically raised here! Every lesson I got taught was in that very building – this is spectacular!"
"Spirit, are you telling me I get to see Virion at a young age?"
"Okay spirit, I have changed my ways can we go now-"
"Spirit, may I see tiny Virion?" Frederick eagerly enquires, wishing to know whether, even as a child, if Virion always wore a cravat.
Despite Virion's frantic objections, soon the spirit, archer and great knight find themselves standing inside of the school. Sat at a desk all alone is a younger Virion of around the age of ten; who is wearing a cravat and scribbling onto his test paper rapidly.
Meanwhile, outside many children of the same age were running around; throwing snowballs gleefully at one another and erupting into frequent joyful laughter.
"Why were you all alone, Virion?" Vincent questions, walking over to stand by the younger Virion, who ever so occasionally glanced up to peer out of the window.
"My parents, they insisted I studied hard and became wealthy – a wealthy life is a happy life! That is what they always taught me." He responds, though he does not frown. "When I was younger, I did not mind. In case you have not noticed; I do not carry the figure of a muscular man-"
"You're a cowardly posh boy – I noticed." The spirit responds bluntly. "Moving on!"
Despite Virion being annoyed that he could not finish his point; the spirit moves onto another scene. This time they find themselves standing in a small village, which could be considered a peasant's town in some respect, for only soldiers would stand to live in such conditions. Frederick's eyes seem to sparkle as he really looks at the scene.
"My home…" He trails off, strolling up a path as if he had not a care in the world. "Spirit, please, take me inside my home!"
A click of the spirits fingers at the scene changes to indoors; where a young Frederick stands helping his mother work in the kitchen. The two were waiting for his father to return once more from his daily hunt or battle – they were never entirely sure as of which it was. All they knew was that he was always brave, proud and victorious.
"Mother, where do you think father has fought this time?" The young boy eagerly asks, drying a plate as he does so. "I bet he has already defeated them! Oo, or maybe they are begging for forgiveness and mercy! Don't you think he is so brave?" Young Frederick can barely stay still on his two feet.
"Yes, dear. Your father is always extremely brave." She ruffles his hair gently, smiling kindly at the young boy.
"I want to be just like him! Then I can make my family proud and my significant other will love me even more, because I am fighting for them!" His mother laughs quietly in response.
"Frederick, darling, they will love you for who you are anyway; forever and always; soldier or not."
The room falls to silence, as the two in the scene go into a loving hug. Frederick still smiles brightly at the scene; still remembering every act of kindness his parents ever did.
"That night, you both discovered your father was dead. Did you not?" The Ghost of Christmas Past asks.
"He may have passed away physically, but his memories continued to flow through our hearts and our minds. My father helped shape me into the man I am." Frederick responds, seeking for the significant others hand, which he holds onto.
Onwards, the spirit moves to another one of Frederick's past memories. There, they all find themselves standing in a vast forest. Shivering, a Frederick who is no older than sixteen walks through. His face is scratched in various places and several leaves are stuck all over him; presumably for camouflage. Virion's eyes widen for he remembers this story all too well and the trauma it brought the great knight.
"Vincent, take us away from here!" The spirit does not listen and forces them to watch onwards.
Frederick had a choice: freeze to death or live. Life was his chosen option. From the bushes to the sixteen-year-old's right a rustling sound was heard; causing them to edge closer to it… Closer, until he attacks, leaving a bear motionless on the floor. Tactically, the boy guts the animal, tossing each of the different pieces of the insides aside, until finally he wears the fur as a coat – huddling into it for warmth and survival.
"I…Was lost." Frederick mutters. "We were camping; I thought I was gone. I was saved by my mother the next day." He chokes on his words. "If that were any other child they would have died, I think… If I didn't have my parent…" Frederick trails off, allowing Vincent to move them on once more.
Standing in a house was Virion and a woman. The blue-haired archer was ecstatic – had a grin brighter than the sun! Slowly, he lowered his knee and the woman's face instantly fell.
"Miriel, will you do me the honour of being my wife?" Virion asked, a ruby ring held out to the red-headed woman.
"No." She said, bluntly. "I do not believe you when you say you 'love' me." That sentence alone caused the archer to frown and slowly begin to crumble on the inside. "You are an arrogant and selfish man, who does not see anything other than their own self-worth! Oh, and to top it all off… You were flirting with another man!"
Speechless, the man did not even begin to beg. He did not ask for Miriel to stay or ask for her forgiveness. Instead, he let her leave.
"Virion, are you capable of seeing past your own self-worth?" Vincent questions the current day man, who is still in shock at the scene. "Think. What did you say to Douglas? Why did you decline his offer of spending Christmas with more than just your significant other? Why did both of you decline happiness? Why – when Ike and Jibanyan came to the door – did you decline selflessness?"
This is followed by silence from both of them and yet another change of scene. This change of scene brings both of the men to a mutual memory of adopting their dear child – Ashley. Before both of the men stood a slightly younger version of themselves and their adoptive daughter. They watched as all three of them happily signed each of the pieces of paper that was required; as they knew that they could provide Ashley with the happiest of childhoods, or at least what remained of it.
"I will never forget how happy she was, Frederick." Virion sighs happily.
"We helped raise her into a wonderful young girl, haven't we?" Frederick questions and Virion nods in response.
"You were both selfless to accept the responsibility of a child, and you were both selfless to allow her to live with Claus, but-"
"Now we are being selfish, because we can't face the fact that she doesn't need us anymore." Virion says.
"No child could forget the people who helped make Christmas special." Vincent says in response. "We have one more stop to make."
For the final time, the scene alters into one that was rather recent, so recent that it is still discomforting to even think about. Frederick and Virion sit together, eating some ratatouille that Frederick had mastered from his mother and cooked for them both.
However, as they sat and munched on the 5-star meal, the phone rings. The great knight answers, expecting it to be his mother confirming her presence at their family Christmas meal with everybody.
The call? Is the complete opposite.
Frederick drops the phone, shaking uncontrollably as he does so. His eyes quiver and Virion is standing with the man in seconds; hands holding onto him as he questions 'What is the matter? What has happened?'
It took minutes of shaking and sobbing before Frederick could even manage to choke out: "Helen – Mother, she…won't be making it for Christmas dinner."
Every year, his mother would always come for Christmas dinner and for it to change, even Virion knew that it could mean only one thing – that she is dead.
As the men watch, Frederick is once again shaking; clearly still struggling to comprehend that his mother is dead.
"Frederick, your mother may be dead, but would she want you to kill everything she has brought you up to be?"
As the spirit says these words the room changes back to normal and both Virion and Frederick find themselves standing in their bedroom once more.
"Right on time, boys!" Upon hearing the extremely familiar voice, both of the men spin around. Standing before them is a spirit with dirty brown hair. She has a slender figure, kind eyes and a soft smile written across her features.
"Mother!" Frederick exclaims, running over to hug the woman who had passed only recently. "I miss you so much…" He trails off, nearing tears.
"Shh…" She soothes her son, gently gripping onto him with her right hand. Her other hand stretches out towards Virion; who can hardly believe her presence. "Come, Virion, my time here is short and I have a final lesson to teach my boys."
Soon, the archer has taken a hold of her hand and the three find themselves standing above the town they live in. From above, it does not seem all that festive – many streets don't even seem all that fortunate. Houses are tiny; streets are often untidy and dangerous.
"For the past three year's we worked in the soup kitchen around this time and often donated to the unfortunate, what changed this year?" The spirit questions, though before they can respond she interrupts. "Do not use my death as an excuse; my funeral did not interfere with anything."
There is no response.
The Ghost of Christmas Present soon takes them down to look upon one of the present homes, but not just any home, their worker's home. There, hurrying and scurrying about is a small snake. Knobs turned; hobs on; fire blazing; water bubbling – she is hard at work.
"Belle! Come into the kitchen dear, we have a fire blazing to keep us all nice and toasty this fine Christmas evening and your father should be arriving home soon with Pyth!" The woman says, which results in a female plant scurrying through; smiling brightly all the while.
"Mm… That smells like a banquet fit for a queen, mother!" Belle says happily as her stomach growls.
"It isn't quite as big as last year's-"
"Mother, we will be stuffed from eating all of this – I am certain." The mother smiles warmly in response, when suddenly the front door opens and Yeti Chomper walks through the door with a little snake resting around his shoulders.
"Sorry about being late! Our little Pyth insisted that we walked to the Holy building; he really knows how to make the folk there smile." Chomper says, carefully laying their son on the chair. "Belle, do you mind if I have a talk with your mother in private?" He asks kindly. Belle shakes her head, before heading off to her room.
"Sandy, he is getting more tired a lot more frequently, recently." Chomper says, gently brushing a vine across Pyth's head. "I wish I could do more…"
"Dear, you do as much as you can!" Sandy suddenly says in response. "If your two bosses would just give you a raise, maybe we could give Pyth the treatment he needs – maybe we would have enough money to be financially stable." She pauses and sighs. "Did you ask about a raise, Chompy?"
He shakes his head. "If I attempted, they would fire me for sure."
The scene cuts short and the spirit looks upon the two boys; who's faces read horror.
"Why so mortified, boys? Isn't this what you wanted, for the surplus population to decrease?" Hearing those words are like a dagger in the gut that is continuously being twisted. Neither Virion or Frederick knew of their worker's ill child; or of his financial struggle. The two could claim that if he spoke to them things could be different – but they would be lying.
"Let's visit another house, shall we?" The scene changes once more to an all too familiar mansion – Ashley's mansion.
Ashley, Claus, Villager, Hunts and Captain Falcon all sit in the living area; where a fire is blazing brightly and keeping each individual toasty and warm. Their faces are each plastered with bright grins as they rip open their presents – well, almost every face has a grin.
The young witch has a slight frown on her lips. She is silently tearing the wrapping paper until she lays her eyes on a picture frame. Held inside of the frame is a picture of everybody who attended the Halloween party; and right at the front is herself, Claus, Virion and Frederick.
Tears roll down her cheeks and she realises that despite not needing them; she cares for them, deeply. She also realises-
"I miss them." Ashley whispers quietly, before suddenly hugging Claus – tight.
The scene freezes once more and the blue-haired man has tears rolling down his face too. It pains him to see his little girl so saddened – all because of him. All because of them; their selfish decisions and poor ideas.
Slowly the scene changes back to their living area, where Frederick and Virion find themselves gazing at the same person, though they have evidently aged. The spirits brown hair is now white; her soft smile is wrinkled around the edges (as are her eyes) and her voice is ever so slightly croaked.
"Frederick, I must leave you… My time has come…" Her voice trails off and her son's eyes widen as his own tears stream out.
"M-Mother! You cannot leave – we need you! No, I need you!" His mother gently places her frail, old hands onto his shoulders.
"Dear, it is your turn now-"
"Mother!"
"Helen!"
"Your family needs you, now." The spirit looks from her son to Virion. "Look after each other." Helen releases her hands from her son's shoulders. "I love you both."
In an instant, her spirit vanishes. Leaving Frederick to stand crying and Virion to run over and console him – though hopefully that was the wake-up call he needed to reality.
Amidst the consoling, the archer tilts his head up and-
"Frederick? Death is here."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"I am being serious – turn around." Frederick sighs and turns around.
Standing before them both is a tall figure with a long, black cloak on. Hanging out of the hood; that is hiding the person's facial features; is long white hair, which seems as filthy as some of the poorer streets that they gazed upon just moments before.
"This must be the final spirit – The Ghost of Christmas's Yet to Come." Frederick says, slowly walking towards what he presumes is the final ghost.
"Quite unsettling, don't you think?" Virion follows reluctantly. "Do you think it can speak? Or see? Or hear?" The archer questions nervously.
"Virion, some questions you don't want the answers to." The great knight responds, gripping onto the spirit's cloak. "Hold on, we have to do this." The blue-haired man nods, before holding onto the cloak also.
In a moment, the scene changes to an all too familiar house – Chomper's house. Inside Sandy, Belle and Chomper sit in absolute silence and sadness seems to loom over the table.
"Mother, you have cooked yet another fine meal!" Belle says, though she seems to speak half-heartedly. The mother smiles and thanks the child, before turning her attention to her husband, who for once is not digging into the meal placed in front of him.
"I should have worked harder; got another job; begged for that pay rise…" He says. "Now, he's gone – they're gone. Everything is gone, Sandy. No Pyth, no job…" He trails off. "We have money, but it is too little; too late." The two men watch as their worker slams their face onto the table; evidently distraught.
Both Frederick and Virion are emotional too. In the future, do they fire him? Is it too late for them to alter their ways and save poor Pyth? Is the future concrete – or can it be moulded into something else? They have seen the future be changed once before; they know it is possible, but the question is:
Can they change?
As the scene changes, it shows a poor woman gripping onto two shirts that seem to be made up from the finest silk. Her eyes are slightly crazed, though her smile is bright.
"To think they were going to waste these shirts on two dead people!" She hands one over to her significant other. "Shirts like these, we will make good use of them – unlike what they did with their money. I bet we could get our hands on some if we really tried…" She trails off and her partner smirks.
"Nobody would care if we stole those rings, would they?" The woman shakes her head in response and laughs. "We're going to be rich!"
The scene stops and still the spirit stands – unchanged.
"Spirit, who are the two, deceased people?" Frederick enquires, but has only a response of silence in return.
"Which two people passed and were given such disrespect – hatred?" Virion asks, but also only has a response of silence.
Slowly, the scene changes into a dark, dreary night. Fog rolls across the muddy ground leading up to two gravestones, which are cracked; dusty and uncared for. As the two men look at the spirit, they find that it's bone-like finger is pointing towards the two gravestones.
The men exchange a look before walking to the gravestones and kneeling down to wipe off the thick layer of dust and dirt. There, written on each of the stones are their names…
They stumble backwards; hearts racing and anxiety high. They were the two, hated people who passed; who were robbed on their death beds; who were unloved.
In that moment, they knew they had to change; that it couldn't be too late. They knew what to do.
"Spirit, take us home!" They say in unison, determination filling their eyes. If you looked closely, upon hearing those words, underneath the spirit's hood a wide grin could be identified.
A blink later, and the two are standing alone in their room once more. Though the room and themselves seem unchanged; on the inside, they know that they are changed – they just have to show that.
Doors fling open and the two run down the stairs; before sprinting out of the house. Both of them stop when they see your average person walking down the street – it is none other than Gaius (who has an extremely large sack flung over his shoulder).
"Gaius!" Frederick shouts, causing the man to jump.
"Frederick, you can't make a man jump like that!" He shouts in response, annoyed that he nearly dropped the bag of goods, which he probably stole. "What is it?"
"Go buy us the biggest turkey hung in the butcher's window; we will give you eight gold bars if you get it delivered to Chomper and his family in fifteen minutes!" Virion persuades. As Gaius goes to run off, Frederick shouts one more thing:
"Tell Chomper he has a raise and that he should come into work slightly later the day after Christmas!" The man with the sack nods and with the gold bars in hand, runs off to go do the good deed.
Suddenly, Frederick whistles loudly! His horse runs over and he jumps on; dragging Virion on after him – their day has only just begun. The horse rapidly gallops down the path, sharply turning corners and zooming down the straights.
Finally, they come to a halt outside of a large building. As they go to head inside, however, they are greeted by a locked door.
"Virion? Frederick?" A voice says, surprised. That same voice erupts into laughter as he finds his question to be answered. "You both changed your mind!" Both of the men look in the direction of the voice and find themselves looking at the man of joy – Ike. In his hand's, he holds mass piles of wood, presumably to keep the orphanage warm.
"Ike, put us down for five-hundred gold bars!" The two exclaim. Shocked, the hero legend drops all of the wood he has gathered. In a brief moment, both the great knight and archer find themselves held in a tight embrace.
"Merry Christmas, Virion! God, bless you, Frederick!" The hero legend says happily, before pulling away from the hug to gather the wood he dropped once more.
Once the donation has been made and the two know that the children are going to have the finest Christmas; they jump back onto Frederick's horse and ride off again – they have one more stop to make!
After rapid galloping down every path; the horse final comes to a stop. Frederick and Virion find themselves gazing upon Ashley's mansion. However, instead of its usual gloom and despair, it is decorated in bright lights and many different variants of tinsel – and other decorations!
"Hey, you both made it!" A deep voice exclaims – overjoyed. This is of course Captain Falcon, who had just jumped out of his Falcon Flyer located near the garden shed. His grin is wide and it causes the two men to smile. "Come on bros, we can all go in together!"
Inside, all is calm. Christmas music is being played through some of the finest speakers and all of the individuals gathered are speaking – all except Villager; who is (rather violently) chopping vegetables.
Suddenly, the doors are kicked open and Captain Falcon slides inside! "The fun has arrived – and I come with presents and people!"
"Douglas, if you have a ribbon on your head again and are claiming to be the present, I am going to-" Ashley's violent words stop when she spots both of her parents at the door. "I thought you weren't coming." She says instead.
"We missed you too much to stay away!" Frederick states.
"Now, come give your dads a hug!" Virion shouts, grinning brightly. Everybody – except for Douglas who is carefully removing the ribbon from his head – smirks.
"Look up." Claus says, wrapping his arm around Ashley's shoulders.
As Virion and Frederick do so they find a mistletoe hanging above their heads; and everybody knows what that means. The archer begins to say "No, no, let's go open presents," but he is soon interrupted by a gentle kiss from the great knight.
As the Christmas kiss breaks; their eyes lock; their lips curve into a warm smile and they begin to wish everybody a 'Merry Christmas!' Most people respond with the same kind gesture, all except Hunts who walks off to go help Villager in the kitchen muttering:
"That was as disgusting as tea."
The evening proceeded to be amazing. Everybody laughed at terrible jokes from the Christmas crackers. Everybody enjoyed playing charades – even Villager who was surprisingly good at it! Most importantly; everybody was surrounded by people they know and love – oh, and Captain Falcon wasn't killed for putting the ribbon back on his head and saying that he is the gift. All, was great.
Until, one week later…
A New Year meant a new start for everybody! Many people made resolutions and vowed to change their ways as to not repeat past mistakes. Many people stuck to their resolutions and had a fantastic start to the year!
Virion was not one of these people.
"Virion, I swear to Naga, if you jump out of that window and leave me to go on another adventure, I am going to chase after you and slaughter both you and Captain Falcon – are you listening to me?!" Frederick shouts, extremely annoyed to find his significant other standing on the window ledge.
"See ya, Frederick." The archer allows himself to fall backwards out of the window, where he lands inside of the all too familiar Falcon Flyer. "Ready to go, bro?" He asks.
"I was born ready." Douglas Falcon puts on his helmet, before soaring through the sky with his best bro once more; thus making:
Captain Falcon and Virion's Adventures – Reborn.