Jacques Saunière paced anxiously in his study. Bright-colored recollections flashed before his eyes: her lavender dress and yellow sandals, her shrieks of excitement and joy, but most of all, her smile. Her smile stretched as far as the horizon, and was never hidden. Even as she slept or cried, she'd always have a smile. She brought joy to everyone around her, including the aging Saunière, who contented himself watching her play. He had brought her with him to the Louvre on countless occasions, but no longer did he bring her out of the home.
In the darkness, it stirred. Having overheard countless rumors passed down from person to person throughout the village, the albino had learned of a treasure unseen by the eyes of man for millennium, and although he did not learn what it was, he imagined acres of gold and precious metals, gleaming, summoning him forth to claim them as his own. Alas, just like Saunière, he too was growing old, and he was fatally ill. The streets of the village scathed him, thousands of open wounds of which he never fully recovered. Sleeping in moist soil most nights, he contracted numerous diseases through his sores, and every day he suffered, but it was not in vein. For one day, whilst eavesdropping on the baker and a farmer's wife, a boy, no older than nine, had stumbled across him. He too was an albino, dressed in baggy garments that were torn in a multitude of places. The boy remained quiet, but scratched an itch, which the grown albino heard. He spun around on a dime and almost took the boy's life. Seeing the emptiness in the boy's eyes, much like his own, he thought otherwise, and took him in as his own, instructing him in the ways of the shadow-dweller. He had plans for this boy.
Saunière put his ear to the southern wall of the study, hoping to hear what was being said. The bretherin had convened without him to discuss a matter most important. One which, if incorrectly handled, could lead to the loss of a portion of humanity of an unimaginable scale. Saunière could not take part in this secretive meeting because he had influenced this artifact too much, and the inevitable removal of said artifact would prove to be too difficult, putting all in great peril. He heard faint talking, but nothing he could understand. The walls were too thick. All he could do was wonder.
Limping, the adult albino wandered through the dark alleyways with his young apprentice by his side. At long last, he collapsed from exhaustion and lack of nutrition. They both knew it was his time. Gasping for breath, he instructed the boy to go after the sacred artifact of lore, and to stop at nothing to get it. He also gave him the name of a man, Bishop Manuel Aringarosa, who would offer him refuge until the time came to begin his quest. There, the boy watched the grown albino succumb to his wounds, and died. The young boy felt no sadness, for he had butchered his real father two months prior, and had already found a taste for bloodshed. He turned and disappeared into the darkness, with the last thing his adopted father had told him. "P.S." The boy was named Silas by the Bishop, and he did his bidding.
Back in Saunière's home, the meeting adjourned, and the bretherin walked silently into the study where Saunière was waiting. "It is time," they said, and he nodded. From within the group came a little girl in a lavender dress and yellow sandals. They say nothing, but their eyes remain fixed to each other for some time, until the group begins to leave. They bring the girl with them, and as they leave, Saunière says, "Au revoir, Princesse Sophie."
Saunière remembers when she first ran away.