CHAPTER 4

The morning sun slowly rose over the desert sands of Morocco, just as Erik found himself in Marrakech. He made his way to the riad where Nadir was at and was relieved to finally be able to dismount his flea ridden beast. Walking through the courtyard and up the stone steps, he came upon Nadir's door and knocked.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Nadir made his way hazily to the door and opened it slightly. "Ah, Erik, you are here! Praise, Allah!" he said sincerely as he opened the door fully and invited him in.

"Where else would I be, Daroga?" Erik rolled his eyes as he stepped in, stripping his vest from his body. "I would rather be in Melun making love to my wife instead of basking in this accursed humidity." He took a seat on a large tri-colored pillow before he questioned his foreign brother. "So, what is it that you simply had to tell me in person?" he said archly, raising an eyebrow to Nadir.

Nadir took a seat next to him, crossing his legs and rubbing at the stubble upon his chin. "There is no way to put this delicately, my friend. What I have to say will come as quite a shock."

"Just come out with it, Daroga. I just traveled across Morocco on a camel. Need I remind you how uncomfortable those creatures are?" Erik scowled as he gathered a few of the smaller pillows underneath him.

"It's about your mother," Nadir said, squinting his eyes a bit, preparing for an outburst.

"What about her? She's dead, thankfully." Erik stated evenly.

"I speak of your true mother," Nadir continued.

"What is this nonsense? Madeleine died five years after I fled that so called home," he stated flatly, looking at Nadir as if he had gone mad.

Nadir returned his gaze without blinking and said, "She was not your mother, Erik."

Exhausted from his travels, Erik was in no mood for games. He tried hard to rationalize the information he was given, and he trusted his long time friend not to deceive him, but still found it difficult to process. "I suppose you have proof of this? You do have proof, do you not?" he questioned sternly.

Nadir got up and walked over to his desk. Going through the top drawer, he gathered the paperwork and returned to Erik. "These are Valente's as well as my own deductions. I suggest you go through them and come to your own conclusions." He handed the items to Erik and continued, "Go and unpack your things, my friend, and take these with you. Darius has prepared the room next to mine. I will be here once you have had time alone with your thoughts."

"Very well," Erik said dubiously, slowly getting to his feet.

Erik entered his room and reluctantly set the bundle of papers aside on a small mosaic table by the door. He would be sure to go over them once he cleaned himself up and got some rest, just not now. Walking into the bedroom, he placed his belongings onto the moorish arched bench and then proceeded into the bathroom, drawing himself a hot bath. He lit several large candles and then began to undress as the water rose. Settling wearily into the tub, he submerged himself completely beneath the water, letting out a long sigh when he finally surfaced. The glow of the candlelight flickered across the rose tinted granite, as he watched the shadows dance above him, through the steam. "My true birth mother?" He closed his eyes and thought back on his youth. "Was my living nightmare all just a lie?" He placed his hand up to the marred side of his face. "This certainly is real enough." He smirked inwardly. "Nadir must be mistaken. Nevertheless I will hear him out, and read his findings no matter how far-fetched. Then I will return home to my angel, Christine, and bury my painful past forever more."
Madame Giry and Meg arrived at The House of Roses just in time to join Christine for dinner. She had only expected Madame Giry, but Meg was a welcomed surprise for her.

"It is so good to see you both! With Erik gone, I could use the company," she smiled, as she led them to the dinning room.

They ate together and happily chatted about recent events in the city. As soon as they were done eating, Madame Giry excused herself to unpack her belongings in her room in the west wing. Meanwhile, Meg and Christine made their way out onto the stone terrace enjoying their tea and the warmth of the summer night.

"It truly is beautiful out here, mon ami," Meg said as she held her teacup gingerly between her hands.

"Erik and I always spend our evenings out here just before bedtime." She wistfully looked up into the star covered night and thought of her Angel of Music.

Meg could see the sorrow in her dear friend's eyes as they reflected against the starlight. She seized the moment to take her mind off of her husband. "Christine, there is something I have been meaning to ask you. Will you be my Maid of Honor?" Meg asked, almost shyly.

She turned to Meg with an excited smile. "Oh, Meg! Yes, I would love to! Have you and Raoul set a date?"

"Oui, it's scheduled for next weekend," Meg smiled. She pulled out an invitation from her dress pocket and handed it to her.

Christine noticed the fine gold filament embossing of Erik's name beside hers on the envelope and her smile slowly faded.

Meg reached for Christine's shoulder and said in a comforting voice, "I know you miss him, but try not to worry so. Erik will be safe and back in your arms soon."

She smiled slightly at Meg, remembering the many nights at the opera house when she had missed her father and Meg would stay up with her late into the night to console her. The girl always had a way of easing her troubles and for that Christine was truly thankful.

"I know you're right, Meg, but I can't help but miss him so," she sighed heavily, grasping the envelope in her hands.

Meg wrapped her arms around her and hugged her consolingly, trying to comfort her friend in her obvious time of need. Eventually Christine calmed herself, and insisted Meg stay the night as it was getting late. Meg happily accepted. After all, she enjoyed the roominess of The House of Roses. Erik's luxurious taste was definitely spoiling.

"Let's shop for your dress tomorrow, Christine!" Meg said enthusiastically.

Christine smiled and agreed with Meg as they raced each other up the steps of the west wing, giggling. They always enjoyed shopping in the city together. "Besides, it will do her some good to get out of the house and enjoy a sunny day in Paris," Meg concluded to herself.

Erik woke shivering in the chill of the now much cooler water. He wondered how long he had dozed off for, trying to estimate it by the burned down candles. He climbed out of the tub and reached for his robe, tying it around himself loosely. Walking over to the bed, he contemplated continuing his rest, but his thoughts dwelled upon the papers Nadir had given him. With his curiosity piqued, he walked into the main room and gathered the documents and journals from the small table and retreated back into the bedroom. Bringing them to rest on the bed, he sat down before them and began to scan through each one, almost fearful of what he was about to discover.

Father: Painter, Eugène Delacroix -Deceased, buried in Père Lachaise Cemetery, Paris.
Notes- Traveled abroad often, to study various cultures, meeting Amala in Morocco.

Mother: Singer, Amala Sanxay –Whereabouts unknown.
Notes- Sang for the Sultan's court. Married and relocated to Paris, returning to Morocco after separating from Eugène.
Last known employer: The Marrakech School of Arts.

"Amala Sanxay?" Erik pondered. "Who on earth is that, and why does Nadir think she's my mother? What of Madeleine?" He asked himself, his brow furrowing in concentration.

Erik: Son of Eugène and Amala -Pronounced lost in house fire along with nursemaid.
Notes- Refer to Madeleine's Diary -Provided by her last known servant, Simonette.

Looking onto the bed, Erik spotted a smaller, worn book amongst the pile. Picking it up, he noted it was indeed labeled as Madeleine's diary. Thumbing through the pages, he began to read its contents.

My darling, Charles, I am still having a difficult time without you. I can't believe you're actually gone. Why did you have to leave me? I don't know how I'm supposed to go on and raise our child that grows within me, alone.

Her husband, he learned, was a master mason, but had died an untimely death after receiving a severe injury at one of the building sites he was working at.

I haven't been feeling well. The stress is no doubt to blame. I miss you, Charles! Simonette keeps telling me I should take leave of my work duties for the baby's sake. She doesn't understand that I need to keep myself busy. Everything reminds me of you, especially our home. She thinks I don't know how to care for myself and our unborn child's needs. This child is all I have left of you, Charles.

Reading on, it seemed due to her emotional distress from Charles's demise, Madeleine miscarried her child a mere three weeks after his death.

My baby! I lost our baby! What am I to do now? It's not fair that people like Amala could give birth to such a beautiful healthy boy. I was to have a boy… a boy as beautiful as Erik.

Erik nearly dropped the journal in surprise, reading his name in the book. Madeleine had been employed as the nursemaid for this Amala woman and apparently had steadily begun to grow attached to him as a child.

There's something about Erik that calls to me. Simonette says I should think about taking a vacation, especially after losing our child, but I couldn't bear to be without Erik. He's calming to me, Charles. I need to be with him and he needs me to take care of him.

Erik noticed the writings within the pages became more desperate and disjointed with every entry.

It has to be done. He belongs with me. That woman has no sense... no idea of his beauty. She works when she should be at home with him. He needs someone. He needs to be with me. I'm taking him with me tonight. They'll never know. They'll never know. It'll be better this way.

There were tears in Erik's eyes as he continued reading on. She had set fire to the Delacroix home to be able to steal away into the night with him. Scrambling through the blaze, the baby's face had partially been burned due to the blanket catching fire. Madeleine herself did not know how badly until arriving at her home, just outside of Rouen.

That damn fire almost did me and the baby in… my boy, my Erik. He's been burned, but I'll take care of it. I'm his mother now. His mother…

The next entry indicated weeks had gone by and her mental state began to obviously unravel. She had not gotten proper medical attention for the child's face and therefore it had gotten worse.

Simonette insists I take the baby to a doctor and back to his parents. Isn't that absurd? He's mine! She'd be wise to keep her mouth shut. I took her in off the streets. I reminded her. She won't tell. "No one will miss you," I warned her. She won't tell. I'll take care of you, Erik. Don't worry. Mother is here now.

The journal recounted how she removed a few sections of skin that had become infected, trying to prevent it from spreading any further.

I cut away a few pieces of skin today. I had to! Poor, Erik! It'll get better. I promise. It's just a small burn. How bad can it get?

Erik stifled a sob and continued reading. A week went by before her next entry.

This baby won't stop crying. Doesn't he know I'm trying to take care of him? Just a little more skin… just a little more.

Two weeks later, another small entry.

More skin… more skin… I have to get it all. Keep it clean. Stop crying, Erik!

Erik trembled, his pain giving way and a slow rage mounting. Another two weeks passed before resuming her ramblings.

He's driving me insane. I've almost got it all. He just needs to shut up long enough for me to finish! I just need to keep cutting. It'll be over in the morning.

Finally, he read, she had had enough of the horror unfolding before her. The wails of the child's cries every time she cut into him had driven her over the edge. The entire right side of the Erik's face was practically exposed to the bone and only half of his nose remained after she had overcompensated with her knife. This once flawless child was now hardly recognizable, save for the perfect left side. She forced Erik into Simonette's care and told her she would be taking responsibility of the boy.

Ungrateful little bastard! Why do I bother? All it does is cry! It won't shut up! I don't want to hear it anymore. I can't stand to look at it! My God, it doesn't even look human! He's dead, Charles. Erik is dead and all I have left is this thing! I'll make Simonette take care of it for awhile. Maybe I should take that vacation now. Lyon is nice this time of year. Remember when we vacationed there, Charles? Beautiful… peaceful….

Scanning over the rest of the entries, it seems when Madeleine returned a month later from Lyon, she wanted nothing more to do with Erik. She went to church every Sunday hoping to gain redemption from God. She went about her life, refusing to even acknowledge the boy when Simonette asked for her help. She kept him locked away in his room whenever she was home. She only saw the boy to make sure the masks that she had prepared for him were always the right size to accompany his growth. She beat him on several occasions when he attempted to remove it and each time she threatened him to never take it off. She never wanted to subject herself to the monstrosity she had created; her punishment for her crimes.

Erik slammed the diary shut and threw it across the room, in utter disgust. His entire frame trembled as he brought a shaky hand to rest against his marred face. "So, I was not born with this disfigurement, but given it!" A tide of emotions ran through Erik's body and mind. Angrily, his eyes focused onto a document that Nadir had recently notated. Trying his best to steady his hand, he picked it up and read the last few lines.

Marrakech School of Arts: Received an old address, known to be Amala's last place of residence. It appears to be in the town of Taddert.

Taddert: Arriving at the residence, I encountered an elderly man who claimed to live alone, but I found this not to be the case upon observing the home from afar. There is also an elderly woman residing within. I must journey once again to Taddert. There are questions that need answering.

Erik's face was covered with tears. He didn't realize he had been crying until his teardrops met the paper he held within his hands, smudging the ink. "Could that woman be her, my real mother?" Erik knew Nadir had always had a keen sense of observing people. He had always been flawless in his calculations, during their time in Persia together. If Nadir suspected more, then there was more to be sure.

A knock at his door brought him from his deepest thoughts. He wiped at his tears and walked to the door, securing his robe around him. Nadir stood before him and upon seeing his old friend's face, he knew Erik had gone through the documents.

"Erik, I…" Nadir paused uncomfortably as Erik interrupted him.

"My mother… is she alive?" he asked, trying to remain calm.

"I'm not certain," Nadir answered honestly.

"You're not certain? You'd better be certain about this, Daroga!" Erik demanded with an intense gleam in his eye.

"Darius and Valente heard news that she had passed, but I have my reservations," Nadir alleged.

Erik stepped to within inches of the Persians face, eyeing Nadir with a steely glare. "You know how I feel about assumptions! My patience wears thin! Tell me what I need to know before I make the devil himself seem like a saint in comparison to my wrath!"

Erik's emotions ran high and Nadir had expected as much, but never had he seen the flames of hellfire burn so fiercely in Erik's eyes as it did at that moment. From behind the mask the illusion only intensified, sending a deathly chill into his bones. Finding his voice, Nadir pressed back, "We must travel to the town of Taddert. Prepare yourself my friend, for I did not bring you down here to relive your pain. I brought you so that your soul may be in peace finally knowing the truth. You want answers? We'll find them together. We leave immediately and Allah forgive any fool who attempts to stop us."

Author's Note
I hope you all approve of this chapter. I'd gone through several revisions before I was happy enough to post it. The next update should be just as good. I might actually get that one posted sooner, so keep an eye out for it. Everyone's continued support is truly humbling. I can't stress that enough. I wouldn't be here without you all. -Phantom kisses for everyone!- Thank you!