Chapter 28

Erik took a swift step over the hard ground, careful not to make the slightest sound. Leaves of all colors were falling from the trees around him creating a vivid world of color; a mix of yellow, orange, and red. His all black outfit contrasted sharply with the autumn world surrounding him. There was a chill in the air, but he did not feel it wrapped in his warm cloak. As he walked he felt the wind gently blow over his face and watched as it swirled the already fallen leaves around on the ground. Suddenly there was a loud sound behind him. He turned to see a flock of birds fly out of a tree in unison and flock into the air, rustling the dead leaves and chirping stridently. His eyes turned back towards his destination as he approached a gate.

The gate was already open and so he stepped through, staying close to the shadows as he looked around. There were rows of tombstones, many covered with leaves, dirt, and pollen. The place was almost empty, Erik noticed, but he was not alone. At first he was unsure as to what he was looking for, but he knew the moment he saw her. Kneeling at a gravestone was the only other person in the cemetery. She was covered in black from head to toe, with a black veil covering her hair and a black dress that seemed to billow around her. He could not see her face, her back was turned towards him, yet he was sure of whom it was. "Christine…" he whispered as he drew nearer.

The girl did not seem to notice his presence. Her head was turned down and her hand stretched out, her finger lightly tracing the words on the gravestone in front of her. Erik could hear her crying softly from where he stood. He wanted to make himself known, to hold her and sing to her, to stop her from weeping, but he decided to give her some time. For several minutes he stood there watching her and then silently she looked up from her spot, surveying the area around her. It was as if she finally had the suspicion that someone was near, yet she did not see anyone. Erik was carefully hidden as he watched her stand up, brush off her dress, and begin to walk away.

As she walked he followed her discreetly several steps behind. She increased her pace, feeling like she was being followed. Although she could not see that anyone else was there, it was apparent that she could sense someone was close. Erik walked steadily, but quickly, still on her trail. Then she broke out into a jog, running out of the cemetery. Her shoes pattered on the street and crushed leaves, producing a crunching sound. He did not have to run in order to keep up with her, her short jaunts were no match for his long strides, especially due to her footwear.

She was running towards a waiting carriage. The driver sat on his spot, not paying any mind to them. When she made it to the door she stopped and turned around swiftly. Erik stood a few feet away from her, but she did not appear frightened to see him. A breeze passed over them, taking the young woman's black veil with it. The fabric flew from her head and landed several feet to her left. He finally was able to get a good look at her face. When he saw it he was shocked. It was not Christine who was standing only a couple steps away from him, but someone completely different. Her blonde hair was down and blowing around in the wind, tears streamed down her pale cheeks. She stared at him with her deep green eyes, pain written all over her face.

"Goodbye Erik," she spoke in no more than a whisper, her voice raspy from crying. She appeared to be pondering something. After another moment she turned around, opening the door and getting ready to enter the carriage.

Erik looked at her and then at the ground where her veil lied. He stooped down to pick it up and held it with his gloved hand. "Elle," he said, diverse emotions stirring within him. "Wait." She turned around again to see what he wanted. He handed her back her veil and she took it gingerly, her hand barely touching his. Then she proceeded to enter the carriage and close the door behind her, telling the driver where to take her. Erik watched as the driver pulled the reins and the horses started walking. She gave him one last look through the window before turning her head forward again. The carriage moved down the street, eventually disappearing from his vision.

He shot his head up from where it was resting and looked around. The surroundings were familiar; he was safe in his home and had fallen asleep at his desk. Sweat had accumulated on his brow during his sleep. With one movement of his hand he wiped it off and brushed his hand over his slick backed hair. It was only a dream, Erik realized as he sat in his wooden chair, but it felt so real. He stood up, pushing back the chair, and stretched out his arms. Feeling a sharp pain in his back he scowled, blaming the position that he had slept in. He silently wondered how he could have fallen asleep while he was working, but also, more importantly, why he was dreaming of her.

Elle had moved out of the opera house roughly six months ago, yet she was still invading his thoughts and apparently his dreams as well. Meanwhile Erik had been working diligently on his new opera with no distractions… except for the strange dreams that kept recurring. He was not sure what they meant or why he was having them, but they were plaguing his mind. Shaking his head Erik moved over to his organ, focusing all of his energy on his work.

Meanwhile a carriage was being pulled through Paris by two black horses. Inside the carriage sat a young woman alone, her eyes staring out the window as her mind recalled the previous events that led her to that moment. One week ago Elle had been standing near her father's bed, her eyes fixated on his body while she screamed. The shrill sound reached the kitchen, where one of the servants named Marie was cleaning up. Marie immediately stopped what she was doing and ran up the stairs to investigate. When she reached the hallway she noticed right away that her master, Monsieur D'aubigne, had his door wide open. Without thinking first she ran straight down the hallway and entered the room. The sight that met her was upsetting.

Marie saw Elle standing still, but ran past her and kneeled by D'aubigne's bed. She placed two fingers on his throat to see if he had a pulse. Nothing. Then she put her ear to his chest, just to be sure. His heart was not beating. As she moved back from his corpse she crossed herself and reached her hand up to touch the simple cross that she wore around her neck. Standing up again, Marie turned around and glanced at the man's daughter. She felt a wave of sympathy, having lost her own father when she was younger. The girl, she saw, was in a state of astonishment and had not moved an inch since she arrived. She walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He is gone, I am sorry."

Elle could not believe what she was seeing. Her father lie dead on his bed while one of the servants tried to comfort her. She felt more surprised then anguished, not having been prepared for this moment. The death of her mother had been expected and gradual, but his was unexpected and sudden. As Elle stood staring at her father's dead body the servant left the room, saying that she was going to fetch the doctor. It was settled that her father had a stroke in his sleep and the funeral was set for two days from then. Only Elle and the two servants attended the funeral. He was buried next to his wife in a cemetery in Paris, as he would have wanted.

Returning to the house, Elle had to make a decision. It took her no time to start packing her bags, ready to leave the peaceful haven that was no longer a home. A house, yes, but not a home- a home was not a place, it was family, which she no longer had. She wrote the directors at the opera house to inform them of her father's death and of her upcoming visit. Currently that was where she was headed, back to where it all began. Sure, she could have stayed at the new house, but she never really felt that she belonged there. Elle missed the opera house, and now she was the new owner of it. She was not sure what she was going to do with her father's house yet, she had time to figure that out later. Now she was going to return to L'Opera Magnifique and, even though she was still in shock over her father's death, she was a bit excited about what she was about to do.

The stoic expression on her face hid the true emotions she was feeling well as she watched the buildings pass by. Tired of grieving for her mother, for her father, and for herself, Elle felt that she was through with crying. Instead she wore a blank look on her face while inside she was torn apart. In one year she lost both of her parents. The reality was setting in. She had no family left- but wait, no, she was wrong. She still had Nadia, and close friends counted as family. Nadia would be there when she finally arrived, and she was one person who Elle wanted to speak with immediately. But before that she had two other people to deal with.

Finally, after what seemed like the longest ride of her life, the carriage jerked to a stop. Elle watched as the driver got down from his seat and appeared at the side of her door. The door opened outward and she gracefully accepted his hand, grateful to be back on solid ground. As she stepped forward, away from the carriage, she paused to take a look at the outstanding edifice. Standing there reminded her of when she first moved there, back when her father was eager and optimistic, back when her mother was healthier, back when she herself was happy… when everything went right and life was not so complicated. Even back then Elle looked on the opera house with a sense of admiration, from day one having appreciated the craftsmanship of the building itself. And now it was hers to do with as she liked.

The driver collected her luggage and brought it around, asking her what she would like him to do with it. Elle explained where he was to bring the bags before thanking him and taking her first steps up the front stairs in what seemed like forever. Pulling open the front door, she hesitated for a moment before proceeding into the main foyer. The place had not changed at all; it was exactly how she remembered it. That pleased her, for Elle liked the building just the way it was. Her eyes scanned over the area as she continued on and then landed on a spot directly in front of her. The two directors were standing side by side, ready to greet her. She had not anticipated that they would be waiting for her, but either way she was planning on speaking with them first. Struggling a polite, but fake smile, Elle moved towards them, ready to commence business.

Mister Tremaine spoke in a serious tone, obviously attempting to sound sincerely sympathetic. Bolster stood beside him with a hand over his bulging stomach and a friendly, welcoming expression. "We are very sorry to hear about your father. It is a regrettable set of events… yet you are always welcome here."

Elle nodded, secretly wondering why he felt the need to tell her that. Then she heard the door behind her open abruptly and seconds later slam closed. She already knew who it was without having to look- the driver bringing in her bags.

Both men looked over the driver, watching as he attempted carrying several bags at once up the stairs. Bolster turned his eyes from the man back to Elle with slight confusion showing in the wrinkle of his forehead. "You are moving back in?"

"Actually," she replied, not wanting to converse about this standing out in the foyer and also a bit annoyed by their apparent surprise. It was that moment she realized exactly why she never really liked either of the directors. "I was hoping that we could discuss this in your office."

For a second both men look stunned, but then Tremaine began lightly nodding his head. "Yes, yes of course. Follow us."

She was well aware of where their office was located, but Elle did not feel like starting anything. Staying calm and confident, Elle walked off with the directors and left the driver alone struggling with her luggage. Once they reached the room Tremaine opened the door, ushering her in first and then Bolster in after her. Shutting the door behind them, he headed straight for the seat behind his desk. He gestured for her to sit down in the empty chair before him.

"Your letter was not very specific," Tremaine continued, taking his glasses off and wiping the lenses with a piece of cloth that he had picked up from his desk. Bolster nodded in agreement, letting his partner do the talking. He set the cloth back down and then adjusted the thick spectacles on his face. "What exactly is it that you would like to discuss with us Mademoiselle?"

"Earlier you asked if I was moving back in," Elle stated, not directly answering his question. She did not like the way that he was speaking to her, as if she were still simply the owner's daughter, so she spoke back to him in a bitter yet matter-of-factly tone. "The answer is yes, gentlemen. As you know my father has… passed on. Ironically just the day before we had a conversation that dealt with the future of this opera house."

"How so?" Mister Bolster asked. She noticed that they were hanging on every word she said, waiting for the real reason that she came. Perhaps they had already expected this moment would come and that was why they had been waiting for her- they were anxious to see how Monsieur D'aubigne's death would affect them.

Elle paused for a minute, creating an aura of suspense. It felt good to have the cards in her hand for once. "He told me that after his… passing… the opera house would be mine. I now have complete ownership over this establishment."

"I see," Tremaine said, choosing his words carefully. He seemed like he was not quite sure what to say, yet he spoke like she was still a child. "And have you decided what you are going to do with this newfound ownership?"

She frowned at his question, not believing he would speak to his new boss as if she were incompetent and unable to take the position that her father left her. Elle heard her father's voice in her head. When I am gone the opera house and this house will both be yours. What you do with them is up to you. He obviously had faith in her that the directors did not. The words gave her a strong feeling of determination in her new task of taking over her father's rightful position and making him proud.

"I have," Elle answered with a serious expression plastered on her face, staring both men in the eyes simultaneously. "Mister Tremaine, Mister Bolster, I am taking over the management of this opera house. Your services are no longer required."

Their faces dropped.

A/N: I thought that was a good spot to end it. Thank you all for the reviews.

Kiwi Anime- Yes, but not this time. I know last chapter was kind of slow, but it was supposed to be a transition chapter which the story needed at that point. Hope you didn't think this chapter was dull as well. I suppose you are right, lol.

phantom phan- Oh, thank you.

OperaGustus- lol, yes. I updated a lot sooner this time though.

Anri- Thanks, although it usually just happens that way when I'm writing. If that is what you want to happen then I'm sure you like this chapter.

Oni-Gil- Thanks.

Amanda- Sure thing.

Kchan88- Yeah. Thanks for reviewing.

Kate- lol, I'm sure you did. Oh really? That must be hard. Well, at least you can relate to the character.

Ethalas Tuath'an- You are right on target. Thanks, I'm glad.