In the dawn, somewhat close to six in the morning, a lonely woman was walking peacefully towards Rue Scribe.

Her walking style was graceful and elegant, but fresh and young, and a hint of excitement made her steps follow an upbeat rhythm she was maybe hearing in her mind and soul. Her facial expression showed delight and hope, probably with some pride mixed in her glance. The early hour's weather was chilly and wind was blowing some icy rain in her face and littered her golden locks left uncovered from her red headscarf she was proudly wearing. The few people who were walking on the same path as her were mostly just mindlessly staring in front of themselves, their spirits absolutely darkened by the wind and rain of the early December weather, which was promising nothing good for the next few weeks in advance. This fact, and the early hour in itself was enough to make anyone morose and moody. Anyone but Christine Daaé!

She was cheerful and optimist right at that moment, yet some months before she was just as moody as everyone else on the streets and contrary to the beautiful weather back in the early Autumn, she could have cried to remember back that sour face she was constantly making while walking on the streets towards the Opera, just as she did right at that moment. Yes, she was feeling awful in her heart for a long time, for years, and she felt like passion and happiness, and even the love for music she felt from her early childhood, had started to wither away before, like a dying flower not getting enough water. Yet, her face was getting just enough water of her tears shed by losing her beloved Papa, she felt her life's flower was just drying out and she had nothing to live for any more. Not even music gave her happiness any more, not even the sweet melodies of Opera she was dying for in the Conservatory were enough to warm up her soul and give her as much bliss as it did before. She wasn't the best at her job either, she was highly disappointed in herself, hearing how she sounded like when she sang. It wasn't what she was dreaming of when she joined the Opera as a singer. Her days were painfully dull and unanimous, and she would have liked to scream in frustration sometimes, which state slowly but steadily faded out to apathy.

Until…

Until she heard that voice.

She caught it in the early morning once, not believing her ears to be able to hear such an enchanting and unearthly voice in the Opera House. Not even the most skilled of their tenorist had that sweetly ringing and soothing voice. And she called out for it… and it disappeared in fright and she had to beg it for several minutes to come back. When she already started to think it was just a hallucination bothering her mind at that early hour of the October morning, the voice weakly started singing again…

And this is how she met her Angel. It turned out it was the Angel of Music her late father sent her from Heaven!

Since that day she improved so much she did not want to believe it. She was even scared for a time she was bewitched somehow, by a hurtful demon who lied to be her Angel, but in the end she dismissed that idea, especially that Mama Valerius calmed her about she was too ordinary to be taken by the Devil. She was now free to enjoy her growing technical skills and her spirits started to get back to her, just as if you suddenly lift up the glass from a candle which was starting to die out due to the lack of oxygen, and the weakened flame gets revived in a blink of an eye and by its full power it lights up the room, and brings joy to the people who did not even think it could be revived by just such a simple act. She couldn't wait when she will be so well trained that the Angel allows her to finally "surprise Paris" just like it stated earlier. We shall surprise Paris… she could not wait! She was excited and studious, and her memories came back from her early childhood. The last time when she was so excited about learning to sing was when Papa taught her a song for Mama's Birthday.

"Dear Kristinka, we shall not say a word or sing a note of this when Mama is hearing us! It is a surprise! Mama will be so happy!"

She smiled unintentionally of the early memories and linked it in her soul with the Angel of Music's figure. Just like in this early sweet moment, the Angel was preparing her to make Mama and Papa happy. They will be happy when they see her performing in the Opera with her newly trained voice and succeeding finally!

And the steps leading towards that beautiful and long- awaited scene are the early morning music lessons she was so eagerly heading to take. No one can or may stop her! Not the icy rain! Not the wind! And not other people's sad expressions will make her sad any more.

Just a few meters behind that blooming young rose in the December wind, the season showed the much more fitting imagery of its coldness, following the cheerful soprano.

The shadow of a man was walking clearly after her, following the steps of the girl, but he wasn't as graceful at all. He was walking fast paced, yet somewhat hunched, his wide-brimmed hat was pulled into his strangely yellowish colored eyes, and the collar of his black cape was pulled up to hide most of his paleish yellow face and transparently shiny, too big and wide-shaped nose. The man's lips were covered by a messy, matte finish and fake looking black mustache. He was elegantly dressed, wearing black clothes, but was noticeably thin. His face and weight could have indicated he was just dismissed from a hospital, or even from the cemetery.

A strange looking and a grotesque figure indeed, in this early hour.

To tell the truth, he wasn't outside because he so wanted to take a walk. It was a necessary bad thing he had to go through if he wanted to have food and necessities to walk among people, and he did not do it more often than needed.

But in these days he just could not help but take these morning walks with her since he knew where Christine Daaé lived and how did she arrive every morning to the Opera. And he was frightened to see she was just walking there.

It is not a clever idea to walk alone on the streets as a young woman in such an early hour. Of course, with a woman like Christine, one can never possibly allow themselves such statements. She is a woman of her own actions and she does not like to be treated like a weak thing one constantly has to protect or guide along the streets. She is used to being alone in the past years, living with no one else but an old lady who needs protection herself as well. She had already learned to take care of both herself and Mama Valerius all alone, without ever wanting or needing any help from a Guarder Dame. In earlier days it used to be poor Mama, but during these times she was simply too weak and in a too fragile health to accompany her anywhere.

Understandable.

But why she has to walk to the Opera? Why she won't, at least hire a brougham?

He never wanted or dared to ask or order her around about that, as he did not yet want her to know he followed her around. He knew exactly that it was an indecent act he was doing, but he could not help himself secretly admiring the woman he loved. Yes he loved her… but she must not know it, as then he would have to give away his incognito and lose her forever. With his looks he would never have any chance with her… he can never get her love or her… but secretely admiring her is the only joy he was able to have in these days.

Shall he really abandon just this small amount of happiness as well which he is able to have at all, other than music and reading…?

At least he follows her around, in secret, just looking at her, just to feast his ugly yellow eyes on her beautiful form… really his eyes don't even deserve to look upon such a work of art as Christine Daaé. What a sweet sounding name she has…. it can be even written in music…

C-D-AA-E, C-D-AA-E, D-AA-E…

He was going to write a fantasy based on it after the music lesson! Why didn't he think of it before? Maybe fresh air was doing some good to his mind?

Waking up from his musings not to lose too much of Christine's sight, he suddenly noticed a figure walking towards her. The man was nothing special to describe. Light colored winter coat, black scarf bundled up to cover most of his face, gloves and a wide hat, just like his. Yes, nothing special, and one could easily suppose he was just covering himself from cold and wind, just like the others… if he wasn't walking from the opposite direction and with the wind blowing his back rather than his face. There was no use to constantly hide in the warm clothing if he was heading that direction unless he wished to hide himself from glances and make it harder for people to recognize him later.

He knew this trick and body language too painfully well.

He used it as well to hide himself from people's sight for both his ugliness and… if he wanted to commit a sin. That man was up to nothing good, Erik thought to himself. If he wanted to do something impolite to Christine he shall curse the day he was born to this Earth!

He was eyeing the figure suspiciously, keeping up the pace he was able to follow Christine without being noticed, but fast enough not to lose her trace. The man at first did not do anything remarkable, but it was part of the trick as well, and Erik knew it. Only when he reaches her too close to be in a reaching range, he will act quickly and unnoticed.

We shall wait and see.

Just as he imagined, the figure wanted to pass Christine and reached to the side to grab her purse she was carrying under her arm.

Erik had only a split second to act, and as he was too far away to actively interfere, to the bastard's luck, he did his other favorite trick other than the lasso.

Making sure the man was facing him, he quickly freed himself from the annoying and uncomfortable disguise of the fake mustache- paper mache nose combination he used to hide the worst parts of his deformity with: the nonexistent nose and the severely malformed lips.

Now he showed himself to the vagabond as he was, his skull face, and he showed such an evil and unearthly grin he could have easily pass as the Grim Reaper. To complete the trick, he used his ventriloquism to throw his angelic, but threatening voice into the man's right ear:

"If you dare to touch her by a finger I shall take you to deepest Hell"

The applause did not cease: the man got so frightened about the sudden flash of a skull head just a few meters away from him and that threatening message he just heard, that he turned to the other direction with a loud gasp and fled as long as he was able to do so.

Erik was grinning while he adjusted his prosthetic nose back on its place. There was thankfully not another witness of the scene, and not even Christine knew why that man suddenly ran away with such horror. Upon turning back to check who was following her, she saw no one.

Erik was surprised and amused by the earlier scene at the same time. He never ever used his deformity yet to protect someone. On the contrary, he used it to scare other people to do what he wanted of them in his youth- there were times he showed his face to rob people on the streets, as people ran away in fright and left their belongings behind.

Maybe he can use his face for good acts as well?

Was he a guardian angel to that woman… or to be clear… a guardian devil?

He did not have much time to wonder about this, as he had to abruptly use one of the hidden passageways of the Opera to arrive to Christine's dressing room mirror earlier than the excited and eager to learn Christine.

He only had enough time to take his place at the corridor and stop panting caused by his running when he heard the dressing room's door flung wide open, and the dear girl dancing though the dressing room with a cheerful chirp:

- Angel of Music, I am ready! Are you here?

- I am here, child. - Erik replied on the most majestic sounding, deepest and most pleasant speaking voice of his to enchant the already enchanted woman - I am always here for you.