Out of the Ashes, the Phoenix rose.
Phoenix
Only one of these magnificent birds lives at a time. The Phoenix is a beautiful bird resembling an eagle. The phoenix has rainbow-hued wings and scarlet feet. In Greek mythology it was believed that the phoenix was in Arabia, living near a cool well. The phoenix is said to sing a song so beautiful that it stops the sun-god in his chariot. When the feeling of death approaches (500 years, some people say up to 1461 years), the phoenix makes a nest and sets it on fire. In three days, out of the ashes, rises another phoenix.
Chapter 1
Meg could not hold the crowd back any longer so she took control, telling them she knew the way to his underground dwelling. She knew if they rushed blindly down, there would be more death that night. They reached the innermost chambers of the Opera House and encountered Christine and Raoul. Christine sadly shook her head… "he's gone, we're ok, he let us go." The crowd pressed on, Meg in the lead. They came upon the lair, abandoned. The crowd looked about with both interest and sadness, the full impact of the Phantom, his genius, loneliness finally reaching them. The inspectors, satisfied after a prolonged search for exit found nothing, ordered nothing touched, then turned back in pursuit the way they had come. The opera house employed turned back. Meg took the Phantoms white mask quickly hiding it, not wanting to leave it to the authorities.
Erik had planned his escape tonight in his one final mad attempt for the love of Christine, knowing regardless of the outcome- his days at the opera house had come to an end. He had no trouble making a fast escape, having secured what he needed for life beyond the opera house onto his closest companion Apollo, once one of the finest horses in the opera house stables. Leaving the opera house and his carved niche in its belly caused him intense pain. He was leaving his heart as well. A calm sanity had returned and enveloped him, cloaking any semblance of emotion. He was operating in a pure survival mode. It was dark on the streets and raining softly. He went unnoticed, cloaked, into the night. With an already purchased ticket he let the other unclaimed ticket fly into the wind.
He found his fortune as did many others in America. Wearing his mask he lived discreetly, closeted in an undistinguished apartment in New York city. Not wanting to attract any attention to himself, he hid in that place, disconnecting all emotion from himself and finding a home for it in his music. He wrote for many years living on what he had attained from the opera house. He showed no one his works, simply boxing and shelving them away. He found friendship in the form of an esteemed psychologist who he had employed, never wanting to repeat in any form what crimes he had committed. He would not allow himself to be out of control like that ever again. Great strides were being made in the field of psychology at this time. His doctor found his sadness piercing, story fascinating. He was very carefully chosen by Erik and understood the enormous amount of trust given to him.
Ten years passed, the Opera house seized and occupied for a time by the Germans during war, eventually abandoned and forgotten. The psychologist felt that as much as he had helped his friend, he could benefit from a German doctor that was well skilled in the relatively new art of reconstructive surgery. He assured Erik his scars were healed on the inside but it would do him the greatest good to allow some of his outer tragedy to be healed. It would cost an extraordinary amount of money however. Erik was intrigued with this option he had not known of until now, and turned to his work of the last 10 years. Instantly his brilliance was recognized, his plays and operas spread through the world. He asked only for perfect anonymity, and when pressed, simply packed and left for Germany, hoping only to be helped in such a manner he could retire in peace.
Christine married Raoul knowing his real love for her. She was happy and knew of Erik's escape through private investigation hired by Raoul. The search proceeded no further when he was assured by the detective of Erik's passage to America. War became an immediate threat distracting any further pursuit of the Opera house ghost. Christine and Raoul were married quickly. Raoul was then sent to defend France in the Franco-Prussian war where he was tragically wounded and crippled. There would be no children. Christine spent these next years taking care of him, making his life as full and happy as she could. They became very fond of the Paris theater and attended many ballets and operas, some in which her old friend Meg Giry starred in as her career reached glorious heights.
Madame Giry, who Erik called by her given name Miranda, had received a note some months after the tragedy containing enough money to start her own school of ballet. He would always be indebted to her and her kindness and wanted her to know of his employment of a doctor of psychology. Miranda had let Christine know of the note and she was glad. She only wished happiness for him but knew in her heart thoughts of her would always stay with him as he had stayed in hers. She would no longer sing, even for personal enjoyment because every note was him. One opera she attended recently with Raoul brought to the surface some old emotions. The passion and pain it presented left her deeply touched. The gossip in Parisian society said the composer was a mysterious genius who went purposely unrecognized. Christine understood who forged this thing of beauty, but kept her thoughts to herself.
The surgeon, who was an extraordinary artist in his own right, looked upon Erik calmly. His art was not appreciated by many in these early days, and he did not have many clients. He knew it would take months, perhaps years to give this client any semblance of normalcy but after spending time talking to him, was inspired fiercely to do his best. He spent the next several years devoted only to Erik and the rewards were immense. Erik could now not only walk down a street eliciting no fear or curiosity but could actually catch a lady's eye. In his mid forties Erik had spent much of his time concealed from all ravages, including the sun, and looked younger than his age. He had learned much about general health and nutrition during his convalescence, and had in fact developed an obsession for the written word, devouring text from both doctors of medicine. Until these last few years he had satisfied himself reading every book he could find to "borrow" in the Opera house, which included records of management and of course the many operas.
In his early years at the Opera house he had quickly adjusted to life hidden in its depths. He was very capable of caring for himself and amused himself by listening to countless lessons, watching the performances and practices daily. Feeling indebted to the Opera house for its constant unknowing support of him he wrote his first opera which he found was endlessly more entertaining than simply reading them. He left this instead of a note one day for Miranda. She at first found it charming, then as she read, understood its value. She gave this first crude work to the Monsieur le Fevre who promptly handed it back to her, asked for corrections, then promised payment of a goodly sum. It eventually worked out between them, Erik receiving an allowance for his contributions. His secret was now known only by these two people who protected their charge. This of course changed when Monsieur Le Fevre developed a serious health condition and was forced to move to Australia, hoping for a cure. He sadly, died soon after.
Erik often wondered what became of the Opera house Populaire. He knew it to be still standing from Miranda, but understood by following his productions, people now flocked to the grand Paris Opera House, newly rebuilt after the siege. He enquired through mail to Miranda. She promptly responded it was still standing, but abandoned and up for sale actually. The Paris police had not been able to find his home in the Opera house depths without the help of Madame or Meg, and had soon been called off by Raoul and the urgency of war. His lair was untouched. She also had recognized his touch in the ballets and Operas the last few years, and assumed this was the reason he wrote to her now. She had saved every one of his written works- "did he wish for them back?" He was ready to return.