Prologue

They had been at sea for three days, bound for France when the tragic event happened - causing to change the little Christine Daaé's life in its entirety. The large Scandinavian fields she used to play in, the sound of the sea and the sound of her father's violin would soon fade from her memory as if the life she had known until now had never existed.

The little five-year-old girl stood on the edge of the deck, looking out onto the large blue sea in awe. Her tiny fingers grasping tightly to the railing as she looked down at the water splashing against the boat but failing to make it move. Occasionally she would also see several fish jumping out of the water and she tried to count them even though she didn't know her numbers well. "One, two, three, five, seven, fifteen…." It was then when Christine had just seen the sun setting over the horizon that she noticed another strange ship coming directly towards her. She had never seen any ships of this genre before and did not think it normal for one like this to be here. It had intricate gold carvings on its sides that glinted in the dim sunlight, and its veils billowed almost violently with the wind, making the ship very quickly.

"Papa! Papa! There's another boat coming this way!" she cried while running to him. M. Daaé looked off to where the sky met the sea and saw that there was indeed a foreign boat approaching very quickly.

"Stay here, Christine, and I will come back as soon as I go tell the Captain. He will know what to do." And in an instant he was gone. Christine waited for his father to return, knowing that the Captain did not want her in his quarters for fear that she may break something, but as the minutes passed she grew more and more nervous as the boat came closer. "Papa!" She yelled for him to return, but by the time he came out from the Captain's office the boat, it was too late. The strange ship had positioned itself next to their own ship. Its men were of dark skin and dressed in spectacular linen robes…something that one usually sees only in the Middle East. These were very likely from Persia by the look of the designs on their clothing.

The Persian men screamed and yelled like savages as they jumped onto the boat, causing Christine to shake with fear. The young five year old girl tried to hide herself behind a barrel of food merchandise, but screamed when she felt two hands grab her around the waist and hoist her up into the air. She kicked and screamed in the effort of trying to escape the man's tight grasp. Christine's father, enraged at the man treating her daughter like a stuffed doll, grabbed a discarded plank of wood and threw himself upon the man, beating him with it to try to nock him unconscious. "Let go of my daughter you monster!" The Persian man threw Christine onto the floor and rounded on the girl's father, knife wielded. He said something in Persian in an enraged tone and stabbed him in the stomach faster than the blink of an eye. Christine stared up at his father in horror, and everything seemed to be happening so slowly now - his grasp slowly loosened on the wooden plank until it fell onto the floorboards with a resounding thunk. He stood staring at the man, still trying to push the dagger in further even though it would not. His whole body seemed to be shaking from the searing pain in his stomach, rising up his esophagus. He could taste blood in his mouth but refused to cough it up as Christine was watching him, horror-struck. He looked over at his daughter and gave her a weak smile, his heart breaking at the idea of her alone in the world at such a young age… or that he wasn't able to save her life if they were planning to kill her next. Despite all the pain, his eyes were still filled with his undying love for her. His knees collapsed and he fell onto the floor soundlessly, his body motionless and his eyes still filled with love his daughter that he can no longer see.

Christine let out an agonized sob, still not having understood that his father was no longer alive. The Persian man turned to the little girl, wondering whether he should kill her or take her back onto their ship as they did with the others. He grabbed Christine and raised his knife.

"Stop! One more can't hurt," shouted another man in the same Persian language. Christine trembled with fear as she stared at the silver dagger glinting above her head, tears streaming down her face, afraid to die. She then couldn't understand why the man was lowering his dagger and putting it away, but soon found out that she wasn't going to be killed after all. The man picked her up again in the same manner and carried her onto the boat, then set fire to the boat to destroy the evidence. There was another young man who knew how to speak a little of the captive's own language. He smiled widely at all of them as their wrists were bring tied up by another man. Opening his arms to them in a welcoming manner, he told them, "Persia! Land of Kings, Queens, Princes, and Princesses. You will like much!" Perhaps she would be all right, she thought. But little did she know that it was also a dark place, where slavery, death, and poverty thrived within its walls. The one thing she could not understand was, why were her wrists being bound together while the man in front of them was smiling?

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I was a bit nervous when writing this, as I am not very good with writing in 3rd person. o.o I hope you guys will like it. Comments are appreciated! I am currently working on editing the second chapter... so that will be coming very soon.