It had been a stormy November night in 1841. Marie Destler had been pregnant for 9 months, and was due quite soon. It was her first pregnancy, which made her worrying husband - Alexander Destler - feel even more anxious about it. The both of them had married a year ago, after meeting in the opera house in Munich.
Alexander was a 6 feet tall, scrawny man. His hair was the color of chestnuts, and his eyes were a deep brown color. Those eyes made Marie weak in the knees. They were of a warm color, and the slight wrinkles in the corner of his eyes he had gotten after they met made him look friendly. Marie on the contrary, had steel blue eyes, and ebony black hair. She was quite small, 5'3" to be exact, and she was on the curvy side. While Alexander was pale as he hadn't seen a ray of sunshine in years, Marie could get tanned quite easily. She loved working in the garden, and listening to Alexander's powerful voice when he sang. They lived outside of Munich at a big lake, and sometimes they just sat out on the lake in the boat they had, and Marie listened. She listened to her husband for hours. To some, he could have come off as intimidating, or even scary, but Marie didn't think so. To her, he was just the grumpy goofball she had grown to adore so much. So much, that it only took them 3 months for Marie to be with child.
And now she was sitting there, 9 months pregnant. Alexander had ordered a midwife to their house, and she was supposed to live there until she went into labor. And now was the time. She had been sitting in front of the fireplace, stitching up some torn clothes, until she let out a cry of pain. Alexander's reaction was immediate. He looked at her in shock, and as she gave him a nod, he hurried to get the midwife.
Hours later, she had finally done it. When she heard the baby scream for air the first time, she let out a relieved sigh. But her midwife was quiet. She didn't say a word, staring at her newborn child. "What's wrong?" Alexander asked, and hurried away from Marie's side. He had been there from the start until now, actually, which is why he had gotten a weird look from the midwife, who was now trembling, and quickly gave the newborn child to Alexander.
"It's a boy." She said, before hurrying away. Marie suspected she'd get some fresh water, but she didn't come into the room again. Alexander was in shock. He was blankly staring at the screaming and crying child.
"Let me see him, Alexander! What's wrong with him? What's wrong with my son?" She saw Alexander's Adam's apple move up and down, as he swallowed the knot forming in his throat. "I'm so sorry... His face.. He is.." When Marie finally held her firstborn in her arms, she smiled brightly, although everything inside her was screaming. Her son's face was terribly disfigured, and she quickly began to feed him, only as an excuse not to look for a while. "He's… he's… perfect!" She looked up at him happily "his name will be Erik." As time flew by, the young couple realized they had to cover Erik's face when they went out. When he was 5, they commissioned someone to make Erik a mask; he would only wear when going out. Alexander, Marie and his one-year-old sister didn't mind to see his face.
But it was disturbing to strangers, and it wasn't uncommon Erik was pointed at or even harassed in public. As he grew older, he started to get more used to the mask. He started to wear it at home also, and his self-esteem got smaller and smaller. By the time he was 10, his family started to travel to Paris. His father had gotten a job offer at the Opera Populaire, and he gratefully accepted. He already had 3 siblings, two girls and one boy - Amelie, Chloe and Louis.
After arriving in Paris, they moved into a big house near the opera, and the family often spent time at the old house, even if they just listened to Alexander's rehearsals. But one day, Louis woke up with a terrible fever. They immediately called in a doctor, who gave him medicine. But he didn't get better. After 2 months of struggling, he died in his sleep, which changed the lives of the family. Although his mother was pregnant again, everyone was heartbroken. Louis had been only 3 years old, and he was a ball of sunshine. Erik started to become more distant, and as years went by, and Erik eventually moved out of his parent's house, without knowing any reason to live. Until one day, he heard her at the opera house. His angel of music.
Christine was born in a warm summer night in 1852 to a violinist, Gustave and his wife, Anna. They had tried to have a child for several years, until it finally worked. They were happy, and when Christine was 2 years old, they started to travel around Europe. Until she was 4 years old. Anna suddenly had a mysterious illness no doctor seemed to be able to cure. They temporarily settled in southern France, where Christine also started to learn French. As both her parents were Swedish, and she had lived in Sweden for 2 years, that was her first language. It took her mother a whole year to die. It started off as some coughing now and then, but it started to get worse every couple days, until she started getting worse daily, until she passed away.
"The funeral was heartbreaking for both Christine and Gustave. Quite some people had attended, as her father gained popularity for his magnificent music, but the main attention was on Christine. The child simply wouldn't stop crying, no matter what anyone would do. It only was a normal reaction, but to Gustave it was more heartbreaking than the actual funeral. His wife and him had went over this many times.
"Don't cry at the funeral." she had told him, "it would be horrible for Christine." And so he obeyed her request. Her last wish was for Gustave and Christine to move to Paris and begin a new life. And so they did. Gustave quickly was accepted in the Opera Populaire's Orchestra, which meant Christine was around musicians a lot and it inspired her to sing. She grew up to be a beautiful, talented child. Many who heard her sing talked of her as "an angel sent from god" and the managers wanted her to have voice lessons really badly.
But Gustave didn't accept any of the offers due the fact that most voice teachers scared her. When Christine was 6 years old, things suddenly began to change a lot. The opera had been sold to a German Opera singer, who had quit singing because of a death in his family, and still wanted to dedicate his life to music. His oldest son was 17, but somehow he always wore a mask, and he never seemed to talk to anyone except for his siblings or his father. Christine was curious about him though, and when her father didn't look, she ran after him when he walked out of the practice room. He was humming a melody, and didn't seem to notice Christine until she joined his humming with her tiny, yet beautiful voice.