Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anything from The Illusionist or Phantom, though I wish I did own Erik. Oh, well.

AN: Here we go, another Phantom story. I wonder when I'll run out of ideas for this genre? Hopefully never! Anyway, this probably won't be a long story, maybe ten chapters, but you never know; once I get inspired to write something, it's kind of hard to stop. Either way, no matter what the length, I hope that you all enjoy this and will review! Thanks!

Chapter 1: A Twist of Fate:

It's funny the way two individuals from different levels of society could meet and become as close to one another as two people could be.

Leah von Pressentin was born the daughter of a German baron and his pretty French wife, a lady of moderate class. She lived in a relatively small castle which was surrounded by a tiny German village, and the entire thing was surrounded by beautiful fields and farms. As it happened, her parents' marriage was a love match, though it was a good social one as well. The Baroness had brought a fair amount of French money with her, and with the Baron's good farmland to invest in, it was no wonder that, despite being small in estate, the von Pressentin family was relatively well-off.

To the relief of the townspeople, their Baron was a good man, and had been forced by his father to work for a year in the fields with the people so that he knew what it was to have to sweat for a good meal. Though he still thought himself above the commoners, he was fair when dispensing justice, did not overtax them when the time came, nor did he let anyone go hungry, even in the harshest winters.

And much to the joy of the people, the little Baroness Leah von Pressentin was promising to turn out just like her father.

She was like most little girls, in that she was sweet, happy, playful, and full of laughter about anything and everything she saw. She was not spoiled, for the most part, but if she insisted on having something, it was given to her, if not by her indulgent mother, than by her amused father. Thankfully, Leah did not desire much, and thanks to the forgetful mind of a child, whatever it was she wanted was usually forgotten within a few days. This kept her from being too much the spoiled, unpleasant child, and saved her parents a fortune in abandoned toys.

Also, her governess, Madame Antoinette Giry, who had come with the Baroness from France, made sure to keep her charge in line. She taught the little girl that people were not game pieces to be played with and tossed aside when finished. Respect, she said, was to be earned, and that it was through a mixture of kindness and firmness that a lady received it.

Thanks to the teachings of her nurse and her parents, Leah was growing up to be the fair, kind young girl that the townspeople liked, and whom the servants didn't mind waiting on. Watching her grow, they all hoped that she wedded a man who was as good as she was, if she married at all.

The same, however, could not be said of her little friend and constant companion, Christine Harran…

Glancing over to my left, I tried not to sigh as Christine brushed her hair for the third time today. She was my friend and playmate, the daughter of Gustave Harran, an extremely minor German aristocrat.

I liked Sir Harran, who was a neighbor of ours, and childhood friend of Papa's. Sadly, there was no Lady Harran, because she had died when Christine was a baby. Thus, when I was five-years-old, Papa, feeling great pity for his friend, had written to Sir Harran and asked if Christine could come and be a friend and companion for me. Since she was just my age, she would be taught by my governess, Madame Giry – who was great fun, though still a bit stiff at times – and we would do much of the same things together, such as riding, drawing, and embroidery. I had looked forward to having Christine here, imagining that we would be as close friends as our fathers.

And so we were, at least at first.

Christine was a very pretty girl, with chocolate curls and blue eyes, and was much fussed over by her nurses. When our fathers introduced us the day she was to join me at the castle as my companion, Christine had said she liked my straight brown hair and dark brown eyes. I thought that rather nice of her to say, and we became good friends after that, always together as we practiced our dancing, rode our ponies together through the fields, and learned our lessons with Madame Giry.

Lately, however, she had become rather vain. Since we shared a large dressing room with matching vanities, I often had to sit for hours and listen to her hum as she brushed out her hair. I thought girls weren't supposed to fuss over hair until they were older, but at age nine, Christine seemed to want to stay ahead on that sort of thing.

I suppose I should say that she was still a decent person in spite of her vanity. Christine was sweet, amusing, and always willing to help me whenever I needed it, and I counted her a good friend. I thought it terrible that one day she would have to leave me when her education was completed, or when her father announced her engagement to a wealthy gentle- or nobleman. That was also what our lessons were for: to find us husbands, or so some of my maids said.

"But don't worry, dear," quipped my personal serving maid, Lisa. "You'll find a wonderful man to marry, and I've no doubt you'll do it for love." She peeked over in Christine's direction and muttered, "Unlike some."

Later, Madame Giry would tell me that Sir Harran wanted his daughter to wed for money rather than love. "Christine's family is of less wealth and status than yours, my dearest girl, and so she must wed for money if she is to be taken care of."

She caressed my face and gave me an affectionate smile, the sort an aunt gives to her favorite niece. "You need not worry about that. I've no doubt your father will leave you everything when he dies, and that you will make good use of it, whether you marry or not."

However, today was not for unpleasant thoughts of the future, nor for Christine to overly fuss about her hair. My bodyguard and friend, Nadir Kahn, had heard there was a fair in town, and I dearly wanted to see it, but with Christine acting as she was over her hair, I was growing impatient.

"Are you still not ready? You've been at it nearly all morning," Nadir teased after knocking on the door.

I gave a joyous cry and threw myself at him, squealing as he picked me up and threw me high in the air. He wasn't supposed to do that, since Mother didn't like it, but I didn't mind.

My guard and protection, Nadir, was from Persia, and had come through Germany with a trade caravan, demonstrating his skills with a sword and a pistol to earn extra money. When Papa saw how good he was, he hired Nadir as a protector for me, and the offer had been accepted. Now I had two very special friends who were almost family: Madame Giry and Nadir. I always thought it funny that they always fought about what they thought was best for me, and their fights became snippy arguments that lasted until they walked off in opposite directions, muttering and huffing under their breath.

"Are you ready, little one?" he asked, tickling me with his scruffy beard.

I giggled. "Yes, but I'm waiting for Christine."

"Come along, Miss Harran," he called while leading me out the door, "or else we will go without you, and then you won't get any treats or toys from town."

Always eager for more treasures, Christine immediately dropped her brush and ran to catch up with us. Happy that we were on our way, I put my little hand in Nadir's and began to skip my way out the door.

Normally gypsies were not allowed on Papa's land, but since it had been a good harvest year, he had decided to be forgiving and allow this one bit of entertainment into the town, if only for today. I was allowed to go, but only because I had Nadir for protection, and Madame Giry as well, who was armed with a purse of money to purchase food and treats for me and Christine.

Since our arrival at the makeshift fair, we had seen men breathing fire, men and women performing great balancing acts, and wonderful exotic animals that paced around their large cages. Christine and I had stuffed ourselves at a local pastry shop, and I carried a small box of fluffy puff-pastries filled with cream for later. Thanks to the excitement and too much food, I was about to ask to return to the castle when Christine gave a cry, pleading to go inside one tent in particular.

"The Devil's Child," Nadir murmured. "I don't like the thought of taking little Leah in there."

Christine glared at him. "Don't be silly," she snapped, hands on her hips. "It looks fascinating, and I want to go in!"

Perhaps it is good to mention that since her arrival at the castle, Christine had grown accustomed to having her own way.

And so, knowing that it would be best to prevent a tantrum now than later, I sighed. "Alright, let's go in."

I saw Madame Giry scowl, but she said nothing as she took the pastries from me and nodded at Nadir, who took my hand and led me inside. Christine was already halfway in the doorway.

The tent was dark, and to my horror, there was a cage there that held not an animal, but a teenage boy. Even at nine years of age, I knew that people, even slaves, did not belong in a cage! What was worse was that there was a gypsy man beating the poor boy, causing him to cry out in pain and fear.

I pulled my hand out of Nadir's, clamping it over my mouth as I began to weep. "Oh, no!" I gasped. "Nadir, stop him. Please stop him!"

Without hesitating, he strode forward, pulled open the unlocked cage door and grabbed the gypsy by the arm, preventing him from doing any more damage. I watched as the gypsy grew angry and whirled around, ready to strike at whoever was holding him. But when he saw Nadir standing there, tall, strong, and angry, he stopped and looked around.

Small, rat-like eyes bulged out from behind scraggly black hair and a black beard, taking in the fine white dresses Christine and I wore, and Madame Giry's dark purple gown. Immediately erasing all signs of anger from his face, the gypsy put on a whimpering, fawning mask and bowed to us.

"Sorry about that, young missus," he said. "I'm afraid that this boy here, the Devil's Child, must be kept in line, otherwise he's capable of all sorts of evil."

My eyes filled with tears of anger and of sadness. The boy didn't look evil, even though he had a bag over his head to keep him hidden. I gasped when the covered head turned towards me and two bright green eyes stared out, pleading for help.

"Let him go," I said, drawing myself up.

The gypsy looked amused. "And why would I do that?" he asked arrogantly.

I put on my most haughty and noble face. "I am the daughter of Baron von Pressentin, whose lands you are on, and I demand that the boy be set free."

Now the man looked nervous, knowing that I could lawfully expel his troupe from the town, thereby robbing them of the money they hoped to gain. "Please forgive me, miss, but I can't just let him go. I paid a good sum for him, and I'll loose a great deal more if I just let him go."

Turning towards my governess, I looked up into her eyes. "Pay him," I ordered. "Everything in the pouch, Madame, if you please."

"Mistress, it is none of your concern," Madame whispered to me in an urgent tone.

I glared at her. "It is my concern when someone on my lands is suffering. And I said to pay him," I commanded firmly.

With a heavy sigh, Madame pulled out the pouch of money and tossed it at the man. "Now let the boy go," she said in her most forceful tone. Not even I dared go against that voice.

The gypsy greedily began counting the sum as Nadir reached down and offered the boy a hand. Fearing that he might react poorly, I grabbed the box of pastries from Madame and ran forward, opening it to show him the contents.

"Would you like one?" I asked, watching as he eyed the pastries the same way the gypsy was now looking at his money.

Hesitant, the boy slowly slipped out of the cage and approached me. Nadir stiffened, but did not move just yet; --if he had to, he could strike with the speed of a serpent, but for now, he merely waited to see what the boy would do.

Not moving an inch, I watched as a dirty hand reached out and took a pastry, slowly raising the lower half of the sack so that he could eat it. Crust, cream, and powdered sugar vanished under the sack and into his mouth, bits and pieces falling to the floor as I smiled in satisfaction.

"Now, shall we go?" I asked him. "We'll go up to the castle, and then Nadir can help you get a nice hot bath. Once you're clean, he'll treat your wounds, and then we will see."

The boy merely stared at me in surprise. I giggled and motioned for him to follow. Since Nadir put his hand on the boy's shoulder, he had no choice but to obey.

"I hope that there will not be anymore outbursts like these in the future, Leah," Papa said as he looked down at me from his chair. "You can't just buy people like you would a toy in the marketplace."

Mama clicked her tongue and shook her head. "And all that money, gone in a flash," she sighed. "Christine is very upset about that, but I suppose it is because she wanted a new doll or something to play with. I'm sure her father will send her one later this month for her birthday, so there will probably be no anger towards you on her behalf."

Looking down at the floor, I knew that this lecture was only for show. Papa looked rather pleased with me, and Mama did as well, so I knew I wasn't in trouble. Well, perhaps my allowance might be cut to repay the spent money, but that did not matter; it was money well-spent.

"No, go downstairs and find out how our new guest is faring," Papa said. "Find out if he can read and write, but if not, have Madame Giry teach him."

Oh, she was not going to like that at all. Oh, well.

Mama was speaking now. "And if he has any skills, we shall have to find him a master to take him on as an apprentice so that he might make his living in the future."

"But first, you must find out his name," Papa said, just before sending me off with a swift smack on the rump.

Brushing out her hair, Christine Harran frowned with all the anger of a nine-year-old could hold. She was angry that she had been cheated out of a day of food, treats, and toys, all of which had been promised by them going to the fair today. Instead, they had nothing but a strange boy with a twisted face bathing downstairs in the servant's quarters.

'Oh, well, Papa will send me something soon, so that's alright.' He always sent her a new toy or trinket every month or so, usually right before he visited for a few days.

No, what was so very upsetting was how Leah had managed to get what she wanted today by using her position and title. Christine knew that Leah was higher than her, far higher, according to her father, and that made for quite a bit of jealousy on Christine's part. She wanted to be able to order someone to do something and have it obeyed without question, just like Leah had.

Although Christine was the daughter of a very minor aristocrat, she had no power within the von Pressentin castle, and she knew it. The servants mostly did as she ordered because Leah was usually there, and if their orders weren't carried out, she would scowl at them for being disobedient. If she ordered anything contrary to Leah's, the servants would take their mistress's side, as was expected.

And despite her young age, Christine also knew her place in society was minimal as well. Her father was only Sir Harran, and barely had enough land to sustain himself and his family. Leah's father was a full Baron with great estates and a good deal of money. Christine was nothing to Leah, had no dowry like hers, and had only her beauty to fall on for a good marriage.

'That is why beauty is everything,' she thought, brushing her hair and watching the curls spring back into place. 'It will get me money for me and for Papa, and will find me a good husband. My future depends on it.'

One day, she would be a great lady in the courts of France or Germany. Perhaps she would even outrank Leah von Pressentin, and wouldn't that be a grand thing?

Wiping the last milk droplets from his lips, Erik, also known as the Devil's Child, tried to understand how his life could be turned upside down like this. He'd had his first bath in who-knows-how-long, and not only that, but his wounds were tended to as well. The ointment used on his back had stung, but that was because they were disinfecting the marks made by the damn gypsy's whip.

"Finished?" asked the tall gentleman who had been assigned to watch him.

'Nadir,' Erik recalled. 'The man's name is Nadir.'

Pushing aside the empty plate and cup, Erik nodded. It had been his first hot meal in ages, and the milk had been divine. In the past, only crusts of bread, hard or spoiled cheese, and half-rotten fruits and vegetables had made his meals; milk could only be had when one of the camp's goats wandered too close to the cage and he had managed to milk it into his hand or suck on the udder for nourishment.

Today, he'd had not only a delicious, light pastry with cream and powdered sugar on it, but once he'd had his bath, Erik had been given a plate with hot roasted meat, potatoes slathered in gravy, some cooked vegetables that were not rotting, and a glass of rich cow's milk. He had eaten it slowly so that it would not come back up again, and had savored every bite. It was a pity there hadn't been bread; he'd have loved to soak up that gravy with a crust and eaten it. Still, it'd been heaven.

"Yes, I'm finished."

The Persian, for that's what he was, snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. Erik tried not to smile. He'd seen Persians before in his sixteen years of life, though this was the first time he'd seen one in Germany. It was a very odd sight.

"Oh, good, you've eaten and washed!" said a cheerful voice. He turned around. It was the same girl who had saved him just this afternoon.

She was a pretty little thing, brown hair combed neatly up and tied with a ribbon, her white dress perfectly pressed and neat, the ends bearing lengths of floating lace. Best of all, her smile was probably the sweetest thing Erik had seen for a long time; few people ever smiled in such a way at the Devil's Child.

"My name is Leah von Pressentin," she said with a polite curtsey. "What's yours?"

He swallowed. "My name is Erik," he whispered. "I have no other."

She nodded as though it made sense and took a chair near his, sparkling brown eyes studying him intensely. Then he realized why; he had forgotten to put the sack back on his face! Turning sharply away, Erik put a hand on top of the right side, praying that she would not ask for her guard to strike him down for looking so horrible.

He was shocked when a small hand gently tried to pull his hand down. "You don't need to hide," whispered the girl, Leah. "It's alright. If you want, we can make you a new mask, but only if you ask for it. It doesn't look that bad."

Turning green eyes towards her, Erik saw she was sincere and put down his hand. "You are not frightened?" he whispered. "Everyone is frightened of me."

She shook her head. "It does look different, but I am not scared."

A few moments of awkward silence passed, and finally, Erik asked the question that had been puzzling him for hours. "Why did you save me?"

Leah gave him a kind smile. "Because no one deserves to be treated that way, unless they are very bad." She tilted her head to the side. "Are you a very bad person?"

No, he didn't think he was, and said so. Leah nodded. "Good. Because Mama and Papa want to help you, and if you were a bad person, I would feel very sorry about disappointing them like that."

Almost against his will, Erik found himself smiling. Perhaps life here would not be so bad if he were to have a friend such as her.

AN: Well, what did you think? More fun will be had, and there will probably be longer chapters, too, because I want to finish this story quickly. Please let me know what you thought and review! Thanks!