Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera nor any Phantom characters. I do, however, own Lara.

This chapter begins in the portion of the book when Erik is introduced to the khanum of Persia, the mother of the shah. This chapter may also seem a bit slow at first, but I promise that the story will pick up pace soon. It's just the way of lengthy introductions and all that. Thank you for your patience.

Read and Review, s'il vous plait!

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Chapter One: The New Arrival and His Evil Cloak

The crescent moon sank behind the horizon of the lightening sky, the stars beginning to vanish. Only Venus remained visible and bright in the sky as the other stars faded into the oblivion of day. The morning star finally began its retreat, and the soft pinks and oranges of dawn washed over the harsh, Persian landscape, bringing a subtle beauty to the otherwise barren land. As the subdued maroon hue of the morning sun began to rise above the horizon, the magnificent silhouette of a great palace was revealed, standing firmly and majestically amidst a vast city. The city slowly began to awake from its slumber, life stirring within the walls of every building, including the palace.

In one particular room of the palace – one of the corner rooms of the harem – sunlight streamed in through the window, casting intricate patterns onto the floor as the light pierced through the scarlet curtains. As the morning sun grew higher on the horizon, the shadows retreated farther into the depths of the room, and finally the sunlight came to rest upon the room's single inhabitant, her hair catching the light and glittering like the bloody facets of a ruby. This effect was made even more spectacular by the violent contrast of the bloody curtains of hair falling gently around a pale, porcelain face.

The full lips of the girl turned down into a frown, and her delicate brow furrowed as the light intruded on her previously peaceful sleep. She groaned in frustration and rolled over on her side, turning her back to the light. It seemed that just as she had fallen back into her relaxed state, a loud cracking noise – much like the disruptive noise a Chinese firecracker makes when ignited – sounded from the courtyard below, interrupting her peace once more. Her eyes shot open as she involuntarily jumped up in alarm, falling out of her bed and onto the lush burgundy rug on the floor. As she glanced warily around her room and realized where she was, she shot a nasty glare toward the window – her eyes two festering pools of green venom – and blew a stray strand of hair out of her face.

Forcing herself to her feet, the girl approached the window and peered out at the courtyard below in a state of sheer irritation. To her surprise, there was a strange, funereal figure – wearing black, formal European dress – standing in the middle of the courtyard, surrounded by a ring of fire which kept the two astonished eunuch guards, wielding yatakans, at bay. The flames smoldered away until there was no trace of the fire except for a thin haze of light smoke. As the smoke cleared away, she could more clearly see his face, which was curiously hidden under a mysterious, white mask.

Suddenly, she heard loud, mocking applause drifting through the wall by her bed, and the disciplined murmurs of female voices. She concluded that the voices belonged to the khanum and the other harem girls, who were probably watching this spectacle of a man from the balcony. Of course! she thought, the man must have been the new arrival that the khanum had been so excited about for the last couple of days! He was known simply by the name of Erik, and the man was supposedly the most brilliant magician in the world!

She scowled at this thought. "How could he possibly be a better magician than me?" she scoffed, shooting a skeptical glare back at the window before giving a nervous laugh.

She watched the man for a moment longer, and then she reached a spontaneous decision. She would sneak out of the harem and follow Erik to his home. And as soon as she assessed his abilities, she would set up a few little surprises for the man. She threw her head back and cackled deviously before waving a hand to shroud herself in a shadowy vapor, which draped itself tenderly around her body in the form of a cloak. Taking care to conceal her pale face and red hair inside the safety of the cloak's hood, she made the final preparations for her escape.

Her heart skipped a beat when her whole room was filled with the horrible, grating sound of shrieks. She froze in place, hovering above the rope she had been winding from her bed sheets, and strained her ears for some sort of explanation.

The khanum's vicious shouts silenced the screaming women. "Be silent! The next woman who screams will be beaten to death for her stupidity, I swear it! Now leave me…Go! All of you!"

These words did not explain the strange outburst of screams, so she attempted to listen closer, but could hear nothing but the sound of the other harem girls. There seemed to be a flurry of noise passing by her door as the women moved with quick, clumsy footsteps, jangling their bracelets and necklaces in time with their steps. She waited until the corridor outside her room fell silent once more before hurriedly tying off her bed sheet rope with strong knots.

Then she rushed to the window and peered out into the courtyard yet again. The man's lips seemed to twist at the edges to form a little smile, before he spoke again. He paused a moment before giving an eloquent bow and turning to leave the courtyard. She held her breath as she heard the khanum's proud steps pass by her room, and as soon as they had disappeared, she flung herself toward the window and hurriedly slipped through it, her hands tightly wound through the bed sheet rope, tied to her bed, for security.

She managed to scale down the side of the building without being noticed, and soon she was following in the wake of the masked man, a mere shadow, and discovered how difficult it was to keep up with this elusive magician. Several times she lost sight of him, only to spot him again off somewhere in the distance.

Finally she saw him draw out his keys and unlock the door all in one fluid motion. Then the keys seemed to vanish with a slight twitch of his hand. She stared at him in shock, but before she could conceive what had just happened, he had disappeared through the door.

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Erik slipped quietly through the entrance to his apartment, managing to avoid any unwanted contact with his servants. All he wanted was to retire to his study to begin development on the plans for the shah's new palace in Ashraf, a masterpiece that demanded silence, patience, and above all, solitude.

He entered his study, a room filled with handsome touches of rich, Persian design. In the center of the room, there stood an elegant desk – hand-carved from walnut – its beautiful, chocolate wood emanating a deep purple glow. Beneath the table, lay an ornate Persian rug, its pattern a mix of passionate colors, primarily scarlet and purple. Lovely wine red curtains hung from a golden fixture above the windows, adding depth to effect of the light shining through the windows, producing billowing shadows on the floor.

Erik removed his cloak and tossed it at his chair, where it landed gracefully on the chair back. Then he lit a few candles and drew the curtains shut, the room instantly plunging into darkness with only the muted light of the candles to fight against the shadows. He gracefully draped himself in the dark chair, covered in comfortable cushions that matched the rug.

Twirling a quill absentmindedly within the long fingers of his left hand, he sifted through the supplies strewn across his table until he found a small jar of ink. He dipped the quill tip into the ink and began to sketch an array of complicated figures with quick, but delicate, strokes. He instantly became absorbed in his work and felt sorry for any unfortunate person who dared to interrupt his work now.

Something jolted Erik's left elbow, causing his hand to knock the little jar of ink over on its side, the dark liquid spilling onto his work, ruining his palace designs. Erik cursed loudly and rose angrily from his chair, turning to glare at the offender. To his surprise, the room was as empty as it had been moments ago, and the door remained firmly shut. He glanced around the room suspiciously, and his confusion turned to irritation as he continued to search for a being that was not there.

He grumbled irately under his breath, obviously displeased with the lack of a logical explanation to how his arm had been knocked into the jar without a perpetrator, as he cleared away the inky mess on his desk. Grabbing some fresh paper first, Erik returned to his seat, only to have his arm knocked again, this time causing him to draw a diagonal slash through his fresh designs. He jumped up from his chair in a fury, immediately being yanked back down.

Erik yelped a curse in surprise when he realized that his cloak was wrapping itself around both him and the chair, attempting to bind him to it. He struggled against the cloak, desperately trying to pry himself from its grasp, but it was a wasted effort.

Despite his realization that the cloak had won, he continued to struggle for his freedom, until he became aware of a strange shadow drifting in a hazy cloud through the now open window. The smoke-like shadow glided toward him, halting only a short distance away. The haze seemed to solidify to form a long, thin figure, concealed in the recesses of a dark cloak, the edges of the fabric billowing gently like smoke on the wind. The hooded figure just stood there stiffly, seeming to watch him with an air of unsuppressed hostility.

Erik glared darkly at the figure, his mouth twisted down into a deep scowl, as he demanded, "Who the hell are you, how did you get in here, and what in your God's name did you do to me?"

The figure seemed to stagger a bit at the sound of his voice, but shortly recovered. After a moment, a silky female voice answered, her voice carefully controlled, "My name is Lara. I am a personal entertainer of the shah and the khanum – a magician – and hopefully that will be a sufficient answer to those last two questions." As she spoke, she passed her hand delicately past her concealed face, and the cloak followed the motion, drifting away from her head in a dark mist.

The contrast of Lara's features took Erik by surprise. Her hair – the color of fresh blood seeping from a cut – clashed wildly with the colorless, porcelain skin of her face. Snake-like, bright green eyes, full of venomous intent, captured his focus, and the sharp point of the chin on her heart-shaped face only added to the illusion of staring a snake in the eye. But despite her odd appearance, he had to admit that she was devastatingly beautiful, her face seeming to be carved of smooth stone.

"Wait," Erik began suspiciously, a sudden thought occurring to him, "I thought it was a custom here for women to keep their faces covered."

"I am not from this country, and nor do I believe in the Islamic religion. Therefore I don't give a damn about those idiotic customs! So what are you going to do about it? Report me?" Lara scoffed disdainfully, tossing her hair impatiently with her hand.

Erik stared at her, surprised and grudgingly impressed. A woman, living in a man's world, who dared to speak against them; that was a brave, but foolish, action to take. He had just met the woman and could already see that she was an incredibly arrogant being, and the fact that she had trapped him in his chair was really starting to irritate him. "Of course not. I don't give a damn about their customs either! I would, however, report you for breaking and entering, but police tend to be hopelessly incompetent. It would be much more efficient if I simply killed you on the spot!" he ended in a vicious hiss.

Though her eyes seemed to steal a quick, worried glance at him when he threatened her, Lara grinned and gave a high, cackling laugh. "I should like to see you try," she taunted, gesturing toward the cloak restraints, which suddenly tightened on him as he struggled for freedom.

Lara smirked at him, obviously proud of herself. "There's no use struggling," she announced, her voice conceited, "It will only kill you faster if you do…" Her sentence trailed off for a moment as she stared over his shoulder dreamily, a smile spreading across her face as she enjoyed some private thought. Then she suddenly flicked her eyes back to his masked face and proudly continued to applaud herself. "Impressive, no?"

"No," Erik muttered, his yellow cat eyes narrowed into murderous slits. Lara frowned and returned his glare, the venom in her eyes boiling furiously. Erik's scowl deepened. "Why did you come here anyway?"

Lara tilted her head to the side, puzzled by his question. "You mean you haven't figured it out yet?" she asked. Her voice sounded disappointed now, instead of arrogant.

"No, and I don't intend to waste my time trying," Erik grumbled, his arms twitching against the restraints in an involuntary attempt to move themselves into their usual position, folded against his chest. He waited for a useful reply, but Lara simply continued to frown at him, looking disappointed.

Finally she sighed, "Perhaps I've wasted my time on you today…You don't seem intelligent or skilled enough for me to worry very much about…"

Erik clenched his fists angrily, and after a moment, he hissed through clenched teeth, "Care to elaborate?"

Lara returned her full attention to him, her smirk reappearing on her lips. "I suppose I might as well," she replied, her voice once again arrogant as she spoke. "You see, your arrival here has threatened my way of life."

Erik shot her a skeptical glance. "And how is that?" Lara's smirk faded. Apparently she hadn't been planning on revealing all of the details. "Are you refusing to tell me why my arrival here is a threat to you? I rather enjoy knowing that people actually have reasons for loathing me."

Lara quirked a confused eyebrow at this statement, but didn't comment. Then she eyed him, almost wearily, before sighing, "Very well…" Lara's gaze shifted away from his face to stare at a beautiful tapestry on the wall, derived from the interior of an old temple.

When she spoke again, she was hesitant as if trying to choose her words carefully. "I am actually from the harem…one of the shah's many concubines in training," she said miserably, turning away from Erik to hide her expression.

Erik frowned at this, and the cloak tightened around him as his fists clenched involuntarily.

Lara continued, unaware of anything but her own words, "I have already completed my training, and the only thing that keeps me free from being forced into service is my magic. Both the khanum and the shah noticed my array of little magic tricks, and soon they were requesting me to perform for them every couple of days.

"But when my training was declared completed a little over two years ago, when I had turned thirteen, I tried to find a way to get out of my expected duties. I claimed that I would only continue to perform my magic as long as I remained untouched. They agreed to it, but they were visibly displeased by my audacity. That was when I realized how truly desperate they were for my entertainment, so I began using this to my advantage in other aspects.

"Then, a few weeks ago, I heard the khanum clamoring for information about a mysterious magician, supposedly the greatest in the world, who went simply by the name of Erik. I assume that would be you." Her voice became hard and bitter as she said this, turning to glare at Erik over her shoulder. He set his jaw and refused to answer.

Lara turned away from him again and continued, "As soon as the news came that you would be arriving in Persia shortly to take the shah's offer, the khanum gave me this dangerous, gloating look. My time being nearly free is limited. Soon, I will be considered disposable, and I will have to choose between a life of slavery, or no life at all…"

The echo of her mournful words still hung in the air. Erik noticed that her whole body seemed to be trembling with emotion. It took her a moment before she was composed enough to turn back to him, but the tearstains on her cheeks were still visible. "So do you see now? Do you see what you have brought upon me?" Now her voice was angry, her venomous eyes flashing with the desire for revenge. "You must leave at once!"

His gold eyes narrowed, and he glared at her with unsuppressed malice. "And why should I?" he hissed coldly. "Your problems do not concern me."

Lara flinched slightly under his dark glare, and her voice was suddenly pleading. "Please, you must leave! You don't seem to understand! I would give anything to be able to leave this horrid place…to be free…You must go now! Before you can be drawn in too deep!"

"Leave?" Erik gave a cold laugh. "Why would I ever want to do that? They have offered me power!" –the word was spoken with such reverence, that it frightened Lara– "What could possibly be a better reward than that?"

Lara's eyes locked with his for a moment as she whispered one word, "Freedom…" As her whisper faded away, she faded with it, her body becoming nothing more than the black vapor from before which drifted out the window.

As if on cue, the cloak released its grip on his body and fell limply to the floor. Erik rubbed his wrists to lessen the tingling sensation of the fresh blood flowing through his veins. He turned his eyes toward the partially open window and closed it, hovering by it for a moment as he peered out into the street, searching for a trace of his unwelcome visitor.

"Strange girl…" he mused silently.

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I apologize once again for some of the slow-paced stuff at the beginning, but I hope you all enjoyed it. I'll try to update again soon, and please Read and Review.