Motherland

Pxlism

Prologue:

The Friend Daroga

Dearest Nadir,

I have a daughter.

The light of my life, the piece that makes me whole, she filled the void that was left behind when I left him. It felt so different whisked away for all the wrong reasons. I now know how ridiculous my innocence had been. But in one night of maddening passion, he gave me a gift that I will always cherish. If it's any consolation, I'm not proud of all that happened. I'm not proud for leaving him, and not knowing him, or knowing what I should have done. Raoul sent me a clipping, which stated that he passed away, so I know there's nothing more than can be said, no pain that can stroked away. I can only hope God bestowed some mercy upon his misunderstood soul.

Apologies and trying to give you excuses is not the reason I've decided to write to you after these past five years. I just wanted Erik's only friend and companion to learn of the daughter that he will never have the chance to know. Her name is Madeleine Destler, the first name, of course, taken from his mother and the last from the clipping that Raoul had sent. I wanted her to have every possible tie she could to him. I wanted her to grow and have the marvelous genius he possessed.

You are probably wondering how all this is possible? You, yourself, probably never thought it possible that what happened between Erik and I could have been done. You had told him yourself that it was impossible to be with me, that I could never be allowed to stay with him in darkness. Now that I'm much older, I can look back on my younger self and think of how ungrateful I had been to him. He had given his music, his heart, and what light he had left for the love he needed from me, and I, in my younger years and childishly loving Raoul, did not give it until the very end. Not until it was too late.

Not a day goes by that I do not think of him, but I know that would give him a rather disgusting taste in his mouth. He was not the kind to be sentimental. Though he let me leave with Raoul all smiles, I knew he'd lose himself once I was gone. He was dying, and in my fear, I left him to do so. I hold a deep regret and resentment for myself when I think of it, a hatred that just won't die as the years go by. I know that if I would have stayed, if he had known that I loved him for him, that he could have fought past the morphine, fought past the pain. Erik is not one to die easily. He is not one to give in, lay down, and take what is given. He was a fighter. His determination was the reason I loved him. The voice, the genius, the beauty that he loved so dearly is continuing on in my only child.

I did not marry Raoul de Chagny. I highly doubt I will marry anyone else. Once we arrived in England, I knew we were poorly matched. I had matured so much because of Erik, and Raoul was still boyishly handsome, boyishly charming. Sadly, his presence became so intensely annoying as we spent more time together. I couldn't stay with him and I couldn't stand him. Of course, my life could have been luxurious, rich, and materialistic with Raoul, but that is not who I am. I was not raised to be that kind of woman. Once I found out I was pregnant with Madeleine, I knew there was nothing connecting me to him anymore, neither the childish-love I once had, nor Erik's promise. I would never be alone, and I was glad of it. Erik was gone, but now I had a piece of him, a piece of his genius and love, and I would never allow it to leave me. I would have this new child carry on his beautiful legacy as best I could, and I know wherever he is, he would be proud of her. She is an extraordinary child.

She was not born with any of his deformities. Her connections to Erik are obvious though. She has his same black hair, though it's wavy and curly like mine. Her eyes are also mismatched, and as his did, they have a piercing yellow glow in darkness. Unlike Erik, she is terribly afraid of the dark, and I must keep a candle lit at all times in her bedroom. She's a quiet child, but owns an air of mystery and mischief, as if she's plotting something great and mystical. She has a temper, but she isn't spoiled. I make sure she knows how lucky we are.

Oh! You must be wondering about our source of income and where we are. We live in Manaco, by the beach. It's a very nice place to live, very calm and quiet. Raoul, though angry that I couldn't marry him, was still kind enough to help me find my very own home. He also help me start my business. I own a beautiful flower shop in the marketplace. Sometimes we struggle, but we never go without, and Madeleine and I are very happy. The only problem with it all is that Madeleine has taken Erik's penchant for hating Raoul! She dislikes him to the same extent Erik did! When he's even mentioned or stops by for a visit, she slips into the blackest of moods and will not leave her room until he's either taken his leave or I apologize. Temper, temper. She cannot stand him. Maybe it's just in her blood (from Erik, of course) to dislike him, because he hasn't done a thing to upset her. Last week, he mentioned Madeleine should call him 'Uncle Raoul' and he received the most devilish of looks. Let's just say he left her alone after that, but the chocolate cake I had baked for him was no where to be found. As I said, mystery and mischief. She loves creating and playing music, though, and is, at this very moment, practicing her violin and her flute. I'm so very proud of her. I'm sorry to report that she doesn't much enjoy architecture, but she does adore inventing, magic, and illusion. Her dream of being the greatest magician in the entire world was only created from the stories of her father's greatness in the field. It seems she aspires to be everything he was, and more.

Even though Erik cannot be here with her, she loves him unconditionally. Him and his memory. It is the same for me.

It's strange, isn't it? I was so very close to being a grand primadonna, but I'm happy being domesticated with a small flower shop and a beautiful child. Life can be full of good surprises. I'm glad to be living this way. I can only wish that your life is going just as well. Maybe one day, Madeleine can come to Paris to meet you. But not now. Not while all the pain still feels fresh.

Maybe one day, someday.

With Love,

Christine Daae