"Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing. Her hair was as golden as the sun's rays, and her soul as clear and blue as her eyes. She wheedled her mother, was kind to her doll, took great care of her frock and her red shoes and her fiddle, but loved most of all, when she went to sleep, to hear the Angel of Music."
Gaston Leroux

Outskirts of Chicago, 1870

The candles that surrounded the great cavern were all lit, giving the place an eerie glow. Tris walked around the cavern listlessly, struggling to see in the half dark-half light place. Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw a swish of a black cloak. She chased after it. Further and further, Tris came into the darkness, struggling to see who was also there with her. There was little light to guide her now. Just when she was out of breath and about to give up, a face suddenly came into the bare light. A handsome face that was all nearly hidden. The man smiled, showing a row of many white teeth that looked like a wild panther's.

"Come to me," He said in deep, rugged voice. It made Tris shiver as it seemed to roll up and down her spine as if it were velvet.

A black leathered glove hand was extended out to her. Tris found herself slowly walking toward the hand, reaching out her own to take the man's hand...

"TRIS! WAKE UP!"

Beatrice Prior's eyes flew open, realizing that her brother Caleb was shaking her and calling out her name. When Tobias saw Tris open her eyes, he stopped his ministrations. He sighed and had a look of such relief upon his face.

"Finally!" He sighed. "You were really into this nightmare. I actually thought that you were going to die this time."

"A nightmare?" Tris asked, her voice not sounding her own. The dream had been anything but a nightmare.

"Yeah," Caleb nodded his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "You were thrashing and twisting around in bed, and you were covered in sweat. I couldn't get you to wake up for the longest time."

"I'm sorry for worrying you," Tris said, looking away from her friend and running a hand through her messy hair.

"It's alright," Caleb said shaking his head. Unfolding his arms, he took a seat upon the bed with a look of worry. Tris would look directly in his eyes, something she always did when she wanted an issue to be over and done with. "Was it the same dream again?"

Tris silently nodded her head and sighed through her nose. The dream wasn't anything new to her. It had been her constant companion for the past five years since her mother's death. "It's always the same. It's been that way for as long as I could remember... do you think that's normal? Don't most people have different dreams?"

Calen didn't know what to tell her. He wished that there was a logical explanation to explain such a thing, but to him there wasn't. And so instead, he merely shook his head and smiled sadly. "I don't know."

"You should start getting ready," He said, trying to ease her mind away from the thought. "Father is already back and says we're leaving in the next hour. I brought up something for you to wear so you could get changed. We'll wait downstairs for you."

With that, he got up and bounded out of the room closing the door behind him. Alone, Tris remained sitting on her bed, thinking of her mother singing her to sleep. She always used to, until her voice faded to a raspy croak and it hurt her to speak. In her prime, Natalie Prior was regarded one of the most highly regarded and highly demanded sopranos in the United States. She made her fame as a young singer from Milwaukee singing in New York where she fell madly in love with a young man.

Andrew Prior was the son of a wealthy businessman and merchant and Natalie had little money, barely enough to please Andrew's snobbish parents, who naturally refused the union. The two ran away to the country and later to Chicago, where they were married by a priest. They Chicago their kept themselves hidden, praying that the Prior family would not discover them and force them apart. It would seem however, that instead, the girl's parents cut her off from the family completely, never once attempting to correspond with her.

But despite this sadness, both of Tris and Caleb's parents made their lives and home a happy one. Tris did not know a day when she weren't loved. And while some would examine Tris' childhood and upbringing in the spotlight with envy and disdain, Christine wouldn't have had it any other way. She regretted nothing about her family or childhood; she was a Prior, music had been with her all her life and that alone made her heart smile.

With the help of her husband, The Nightingale of the Midwest was always wanted in the many different infamous opera houses of Europe and performing largescale concerts and operas home and abroad. Natalie had been known for her charity works throughout the nation and giving charity concerts for Union soldiers during the American Civil War and for the late President Abraham Lincoln. To many, Natalie Prior had been one of God's angels sent from heaven to give the world her song only to be taken away too early at the age of forty five.

Tris remembered that day all too clearly. Her mother lying in bed, pale as the white sheets beneath her. Her once dark hair sweaty and plastered to her sweat glistening skin, a bloody handkerchief in her palm that she would use cover her violent coughs. Tris remembered how she and her brother, both enthralled by the music in her life, promised she would become a singer like her in her memory. Andrew never truly got over his wife's death. He moved his family away from Chicago and there were times when he didn't want music in the house for it being a painful reminder of her.

But today was different. In nearly perhaps ten years they were returning to Paris and going back to perhaps one of the most glorious and infamous the Palais Garnier Opera House to achieve a musical dream- but it wasn't for Tris. They had received a letter from the ballet mistress and an old friend of Natalie's, Tori Wu, which they were in need of a new pianist for the orchestra. Though Tris knew little piano, it was Caleb who was truly given the gift to play. And so, Andrew had to put his reluctance and grief aside for the family to survive. Tris had to put her musical dreams of becoming a singer like her mother aside and be supportive that it was her brother who be their mother's legacy and become the breadwinner of the family.

The three figures dressed in simple clothing gazed up at the massive cathedral, Notre Dame. Tris stared at the rose window in fascination, watching the sun hit the glass, causing a rainbow of colors to illumine the pavement below. The other figure, a man who was entering the winter of his life, smiled at the girl next to him. "Paris, Beatrice. We're in Paris."

"Paris…" the girl whispered, her eyes still focused on the beauty and majesty before her. They were actually there, in Paris, the place that had been her mother's favorite playground in the world.

Andrew sighed and put his arm around the girl's shoulders, gently guiding her away from the majestic cathedral. "Come," he said. "We must get to the Opera House, for that is a treasure in its own right as well."

Tris nodded her head, although she did not look away from the cathedral till they turned a corner. She was very young the last time she was in Paris with her family during mother's tenure at the Paris Opera House, so her memory was slightly vague. In all honesty, she doesn't remember much of her time in Paris. Caleb has told her once that it was because she had gotten a head injury due to accident, and she had gotten a slight case of amnesia from the incident.

The family walked quickly amongst the busy Parisians of all social classes. From the wealthy who rode in carriages and wore furs and silks, to the beggars who were hobbling on wooden crutches. There was beauty and poverty everywhere, yet none of it tarnished the wonder that Tris saw in the city.

Finally, after a great deal of walking, the four reached the reason they had come to Paris in the first place. There it stood, the beautiful and majestic Opera House, a treasure in its own right, just as Andrew had said. They gazed up at the architectural masterpiece, their breath escaping their throats as stone gargoyles stared back at them. Tris was lost in its wonder, but also felt a strange shiver run down her spine. Was it possible for buildings to have eyes? She knew it was a foolish notion, but still…it seemed almost as if it were staring back at her, searching her very soul.

"Beatrice?"

The girl woke from her trance with a slight jump. "Yes Father?"

He gestured for her to follow him and Caleb, as they were already several feet ahead of her. Tris blushed and quickly followed, stepping towards the front entrance. They had come to Paris with hopes to start a new life. As both she and her family passed through the grand doors of the Opera House, for the first time Tris began to feel somewhat embarrassed about who she was and where she came from. There were only a few people in the grand hall, but the ones who were there were elegantly dressed in suits and dresses of fine linen, silk, and lace. The ladies wore hats with tall plush feathers, and the gentlemen carried gloves and silver tipped walking sticks. It was the looks that both Tris and her family received that caused her skin to burn red; the looks of a person who was thinking, you don't belong here. Had they who they were, they would've been astounded by the sight and exclaim: Impossible! This cannot be Madame Le rossignol's husband and children!

"Father…" Tris could hear Caleb whispered rather timidly. "Perhaps this isn't a good idea…"

Her father, who was lost in the awe of the room and unaware of any hostile looks, turned his dark head swiftly, looking at his son in astonishment. "

"What are you saying?" he hissed softly. "You thought coming to Paris was a wonderful idea, why are you so against the thought now?"

Tris bit her lip and looked around, trying to ignore the elegant men and women who regarded the two of them with disgust.

"Father it's just…I don't know if we can fit in here," she whispered trying to defend her brother, feeling her cheeks burn brightly, especially at the look her father gave her after she uttered the words.

Caleb stood tall by her side and gave her a small reassuring smile. "It's okay," He whispered

Yet before Andrew had the opportunity to say anything, a man in a maroon uniform and a bushy black beard appeared before the four of them.

"May I help you?" the man asked, although anyone could tell by the tone in his voice that helping a person was the last thing he wanted to do.

Andrew smiled and gave a short bow. "Monsieur, I received word that there is an opening in your company's orchestra. My son is a pianist, and while I do not like to boast, I have been told by many, including nobility here and tycoons in the west, that he plays exceptionally. In fact, he's studied music in America-"

"Yes, yes, yes, that is all very well," the uniformed man muttered, waving his hand to stop Andrew from babbling. "And who is this?" the man asked, pointing a figure at Tris who timidly hid behind Caleb.

"Oh, my daughter, a fine singer if I may add. She-"

"We don't need singers," the man grumbled. "We have too many singers as it is, if you ask me. But…there may be a place for your son monsieur," the man then motioned behind him to a door that led off down a dark corridor. "The managers are watching a rehearsal for next week's opera. They would be the ones you would truly wish to speak to. I do not know if they will hire you, the season has already been planned, but…one of our pianists has…gone missing..."

Tri's brow furrowed at this news. Tris and Caleb looked at one another in confusion. Missing? What did that mean?

"I would not wish to take another man's place-" Caleb began, but the man in the maroon uniform quickly cut him off.

"Just go through that door, but be very quiet, Jeanine Matthews is rehearsing. "Both Tris and the two men exchanged looks at the name, and then bowed their heads to the uniformed man.

"Is Ms. Matthews a great singer?" Tris quickly asked before the man turned away from them.

The man grimaced. "Some…would think so…"

Caleb quickly took Tris' hand and hurried through the door the man had indicated. It was a long dark corridor and the further they went, the louder the singing became. Tris felt velvet rub against her arms. She realized that she was surrounded by black curtains, and up ahead she could see bright lights, indicating the stage. The singing grew louder and louder still, reminding Tris of a time her parents had taken her and Caleb to the seashore and there were seagulls squawking on the cliffs above. Caleb topped, and the three gazed through a sliver in the curtains at the beautifully illuminated stage.

She was encased in a world of black velvet, the smell of cigarettes filling the air as stage hands quickly lowered and lifted elaborate scenes by thick ropes and heavy sandbags. And a few feet in front of her, the stage, bathed in golden light, where dancers twirled and singers lifted their voices to the heavens; it was a dazzling picture of rhythmic chaos.

"Those must be the managers," her father whispered, pointing to two men who were dressed in fine suits and exchanging notes with one another while examining the stage.

"Wait here," he said, before quickly moving off to the side in hopes to have an audience with the gentlemen.

Tris barely heard a word and began moving away from her brother; she was lost in the spectacle before her. While gazing out through the curtains was nothing compared to sitting in a box, or so she assumed as she had never been in one, it was as if she were gazing at a piece of the world that only God could see. Indeed, this view of the stage felt very sacred.

"Hey!" she jumped at the sound of a gruff voice. A stage hand grabbed her by her shoulders and whirled her around to face him. "What are you doing back here! No one is allowed back here!"

Tris was terrified, especially when she smelled the alcohol on the man's breath. His hands were large and dirty and the way he squeezed her shoulders hurt. He then seemed to look at her differently, and a toothy grin spread across his face. "You best come with me …" he slurred.

"N-n-no thank you…" Tris whimpered, wriggling her shoulders out of his grip.

"Come on, Edgar won't hurt you luv…" he reached for her again, but Tris quickly moved out of the way, causing the stage hand to run into a prop, which made him lose his balance, and before he fell completely, he grabbed hold of a piece of scenery and the whole thing came crashing down.

There were several screams by ballet dancers, but none compared to the cry by the prima donna who was nearly knocked over by the crashing piece of scenery. "Jeanine! Jeanine my darling!" a man reached for the shaken singer who was fanning herself as if to keep from fainting. However, the second the stout little man reached her side, she pushed him away and seemed perfectly fine.

"WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS THIS!" the woman screamed, pointing at the crushed scenery. Everyone else was at a loss for words, including the two managers who were simply staring in horror at the stage. Tris turned a deep shade of red, knowing she was in full view for everyone to see. Her father and brother shared the same expression of horror as they locked eyes with hers.

"YOU!" Tris jumped as she realized the grand woman was addressing her. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU AND WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!"

Tris was scared speechless. What could she say? A simple sorry wouldn't necessarily do much good at this point.

"WHO ARE YOU!" the woman demanded.

Everyone was surprised, including Tris, when the voice that spoke came from Andrew standing next to the managers. "A thousand apologies madam, it was an accident, my daughter didn't mean-"

"YOUR DAUGHTER?" Both Tris and her father regretted the words the second they left his lips. "AND WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!" she demanded.

"Madame, please, do not stress your lovely voice-"

"SHUT UP!" Carlotta barked at the manager who attempted to ease her.

"Monsieur Prior," he gave a deep bow. "My wife was the former prima donna at this prestige opera house. And this is my daughter Beatrice, we have come with hopes that my son and her brother Caleb may find a place in your orchestra, as I was just discussing with these gentlemen. My daughter has a passion for singing and we were hoping that she may also find work in the chorus."

It amazed Tris with how calm her father spoke, despite this woman who looked ready to rip one's throat out. Then, excitement bubbled within her chest at the thought she may finally have the chance to obtain her chance to sing at the Opera House.

"Is that so?" Jeanine growled, her voice not as loud, yet even more menacing. "This little brat is the Natalie Prior's daughter?"

"Indeed!" cried one of the managers, quickly stepping in. He was a tall man, middle aged, dark skinned. "And her son may help us as Monsieur Robert has been missing for quite some time. We are in need of a pianist to fill the man's place."

"Yes, quite so!" remarked the other manager, a slightly older gentleman with graying sandy hair. "After all, was it not you who mentioned yesterday that it was impossible for you to find your notes due to the missing piano?"

Jeanine's eyes turned into slits as she gazed upon the managers.

"I do not need musical help of any sort, my talents are gifts from God!" she spat. "And as for that man and this…this…little… American!" she retorted, looking upon Tris with fury, "I will not perform on this stage knowing that a little stupid clumsy-"

There was a loud groan and suddenly a figure rose from a heap of black curtains, belching as he came to his feet. "Edgar!" the mangers said at once.

The stage hand turned to look at the people on the stage, all of whom were staring at him with surprise. "W-w-what?" he hiccupped.

"The man is drunk!" one of the mangers cried.

"And it was he who caused the accident!" the other shouted.

"Shame on you!" they both yelled.

Edgar simply looked confused.

The managers looked at the man in disgust. "You're fired!"

Edgar only response was another disgusting belch.

"So you see madam?" Caleb quickly intervened. "It was all a mistake; my sister had nothing to do with this accident."

Jeanine hated to be proven wrong, and she hated it even more when she couldn't have her way. "If we must have a new pianist, then so be it, but I will NOT have that girl share the same stage as me!"

"Of course not!" both managers quickly appeased. Jeanine gave one final glare to the petrified girl, then turned on her heel and exited the stage. Everyone let out a long weary sigh of relief.

"Caleb Prior?" addressed one of the managers named Max. "Just because your mother was a well renowned star doesn't mean anything. You must understand this is a trial period. We don't normally hire men right off the street, there are plenty of people out there who can play a violin for a few coins. But we are desperate right now for someone to fill Monsieur Robert's place."

"I understand," Caleb whispered.

"If Monsieur Robert does not return, and if you do as well as is expected, you may stay and take his place in the orchestra," David, the taller of the two managers, added.

Andrew gave another low bow. "Thank you monsieurs. And…my daughter?"

"Yes, your daughter," both managers grumbled, looking at Tris who was desperately trying to help some of the stage hands and dancers with fixing the fallen set.

"We are in no need of singers, our chorus is quite full and the season is already scheduled. But…" Max glanced at the girl. "We may find some place for her in the costume department or something like that."

"Oh! Thank you monsieurs! Thank you so-"

"Yes, yes," Max muttered with a wave of his hand. "Seek Madame Tori, the ballet mistress, since she is the reason you're here; she will help get the two of you settled. Come David, we must talk, I'm afraid there's been another note…"

David rolled his eyes to heaven. "Not another one! What are his demands this time?"

"The usual," Max muttered, "and then of course, some others as well."

The two managers stalked off, grumbling and complaining all the way. Tris then came to her father and brother's side, looking hopeful for them. "So? Will they let you play?"

Caleb smiled at her and nodded his head, although his smile quickly changed. "I'm afraid we couldn't get you a place in the chorus, I'm so sorry-"

Tris offered a kind smile, trying to not show that she was disappointed and hurt. "Don't apologize, I do not need to be in the chorus, it matters more that you can play as you've always dreamed."

"But Tris, you have dreamed of singing on the stage, have you not?" Andrew exclaimed.

Tris shook her head, although it was flat faced lie and her father and brother knew it. Music was her passion and everything to her. She did have dreams of singing on the stage, but there were more important things, such as getting food on the table. And right now, there best chances were for Caleb to play in the orchestra. Andrew smiled sadly at his daughter. He sighed and put his arm around his her shoulders.

"Come, we must find Tori, she is to help us find lodging." Tris nodded and followed her father and brothers, although before she did, she felt an odd eerie feeling…as if she were being watched again. She looked up to the boxes but saw nothing. Her imagination running wild again, she mused. Yet she couldn't help but wonder if such a place, as old and majestic as this, could be haunted? Her mother read gothic romances and mystery tales to her and Caleb as children, causing Tris to stay awake at night afraid of what the darkness would bring, but also filling her with excitement at the turn of every page. It was foolish, she knew, but this place seemed to resemble so many of those tales. The thought of ghosts was rather exciting, and perhaps even a little romantic

Her father called her name, and she quickly turned and hurried after them, yet gazing one last time at the auditorium. Paris…they were truly here! And they were in the Paris Opera House, and she was standing on the stage her mother once sang upon to an audience of thousands! She sighed dreamily, imagining what it would be like to perform. But her sigh turned to one of sadness. That was all it could be…a dream.