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"Your spirit
And my voice
In one combined…" –Phantom of the Opera
Chapter 32: Transcending Time
Seven years later…
Step by step, we ambled down the streets of Nice, our eyes wandering idly to the many store displays along the sidewalk. Nasrin smiled warmly as the sun bathed her dark skin. Closing her eyes and sighing, she clutched the smallest bit tighter to my arm. It was my turn to smile and I looked down at her; her unprovoked displays of affection never failed to lighten my mood. It was one of the many aspects of our new lives that still heralded love.
Our escape to Nice had been a difficult one; but the new lives of Delano and Sadira Morel had long since begun. And now the prosperous façade had made us capable of raising children comfortably.
"Mother! Father!" A familiar call dimmed the chaos of Nice streets and I felt my smile widen. How the voice of a child can warm even the coldest hearts is no longer a mystery to me.
Nasrin detached herself from me, and bent down, allowing our firstborn to run into her arms. She caught him in a firm hug, her smile radiating warmth to all around her. I knew that, despite everything, she had become a wonderful mother.
"Sadira, dear heart, I'll carry him." I smiled widely at her, kissing her on the cheek. "You are carrying enough as it is." I placed a hand on her swollen abdomen.
"Go to your father, Cyrus," she instructed calmly, her eyes lying calmly on my face, a smile behind them.
I scooped up Cyrus in my arms, hearing him laugh as he clutched to the collar of my coat. I looked into his eyes, seeing the soul of my wife beating behind the blue-green irises. And yet, the rest of him spoke of my blood, save for what still lay concealed behind the mask. Our firstborn bore no distortional resemblance to me, and for that I was thankful.
"Cyrus, where is your sister?" Nasrin asked while fixing a cowlick in the boy's unruly brown hair.
"She was right behind me," he said, pointing his little finger down the street.
"Cyrus," Nasrin scolded quietly. "Why did you leave her behind? The streets are not safe anymore." Her eyebrows became bunched in worry. I bit my lip and turned to face the direction in which Cyrus had come.
"Valérie!" I called loudly, my eyes darting. I began to feel uneasy and I chewed on my lip, frantically scanning the crowd for signs of her.
"Yes, father?" asked a small voice. I felt a tug on my cloak and I turned to look down, Cyrus clinging fervently to my coat, ensuring his own balance.
I saw in the little girl my eyes, clear and blue, penetrating even. Yet against all that was Nasrin's dark skin, and black hair, a very hybrid of our beings.
"Valérie, where were you? I told you to stay close to your brother!" I felt my temper flare now that I was certain of her safety.
"Delano, don't yell at her; she's still so young yet. She can't keep up with Cyrus. He is seven, and she only four. Valérie most likely had trouble keeping up with him. Isn't that correct, my dear Valérie?" Nasrin smiled at Valérie fondly, who had since forsaken my cloak and had hidden herself behind Nasrin's legs.
"That's right," she answered sweetly. There was a voice that I could never truly be angry at. And yet my flaring temper and blood curdling intentions had been laid to rest the day I saw Cyrus open his eyes for the first time. From then on I had sworn off all violence; my children do not deserve to be haunted by the mistakes I made under the Opera.
"Now, are you two ready to go home?" Nasrin asked, looking first at Cyrus, then at Valérie, and finally at me.
"Yes, I'm tired!" Valérie whined, pulling on Nasrin's hand back in the direction we had come.
I looked at Nasrin and she smiled back at me, her hand subconsciously rubbing her stomach. We had both become wary of the consequences that would entail, should we take too many risks during a pregnancy. I still wonder, sometimes, what would have become of that child, should it have been allowed to continue its life. And yet, I shun myself from such thinking, for if that child had survived, it would be another in my arms, not Cyrus.
While we were walking down le Rue de Masque, Valérie looked up at Nasrin, youthful curiosity sparkling in my mirror eyes. "Mother, may I ask you something?"
"Of course. What is it, my dear?" she answered smoothly.
"Why do you wear your hair when we go in the streets? And why does father wear his face?" She looked first at the black wig that hung tight to Nasrin's scalp; and then she turned to me with my skin-colored mask. I touched it subconsciously to ensure it still held fast to my skin.
"Because some people aren't as accepting of us as you are," Nasrin murmured sullenly, running her hand through Valérie's night black hair.
"I don't understand," she whimpered.
"You will when you're older," she assured quietly, meeting my gaze once, to make sure I understood that she meant those words.
"But you don't need them, do you?" Valérie pressed.
"Yes, darling, we do," I piped in, seeing Nasrin shift uncomfortably.
"Well, I don't think you need them," she finished as-a-matter-of-factly.
I saw Nasrin begin to well up with tears and I moved to wipe them away. "Thank you, my dear," she said, kissing her on the forehead.
"Father! I'm sorry! You know I didn't mean to make mommy cry! Right?" Her eyes were frantic and wide and I couldn't help but smile.
"Of course not, Valérie. You just made us very happy is all. Thank you." I ruffled her hair, leaving strands to stick straight up in melee. I noted with faint amusement that Nasrin wasn't too pleased about that.
We just reached the corner of the road when Nasrin stopped, pitching forward and wheezing, her hands held fast to her stomach.
"Mommy!" Valérie cried in alarm, kneeling by her side. She looked positively panicked.
"Sadira!" I said in alarm, putting Cyrus down and kneeling by her side. I let her fall back into my arms and she grabbed my hand, squeezing it to release some pain.
"Delano… dear… it's time… again." She let out a hoarse laugh between ragged gasps.
"All right… all right. Cyrus, keep a close eye on your sister and follow me. I have to make sure your mother gets proper care." I put my hand on her contracting stomach and helped her up, allowing most of her weight to transfer to me. "Sadira… breathe love… breathe."
"What do you think I'm doing?" she shrieked, sweat already beading on her forehead.
"Carriage! Carriage!" I roared by the side of the street, waving my arms in the frantically. Finally, a carriage hailed, stopping in front of me. I grabbed Nasrin and helped her climb into the carriage, urging Cyrus and Valérie after.
"Where to, Monsieur?" the coach asked calmly.
"To the hospital of course!" I spat, holding onto Nasrin's clammy and shaking hand.
"Of course, Monsieur." And the carriage was off, thundering down the cobblestone street. Nasrin bounced dangerously in the seat and I had very strong urges to take over myself. I growled and resigned myself to holding her hand and kissing her face, mumbling reassurances to her while trying to keep the children calm.
"The hospital, Monsieur," the coach muttered as the carriage came to a sudden halt.
I dropped a few coins into the coach's seat and ushered everyone out and into the hospital. Valérie was frantic and near tears; I don't blame her. It was frightening to see someone you love in so much pain. Only, the joy that comes after is unsurpassable, and I knew Nasrin felt the same.
"Get a doctor! We need a doctor!" I bellowed, alerting everyone within earshot.
A nurse immediately ran to my side, taking Nasrin from my arms and leading her into a birthing room. "We have a child being delivered! Move aside!"
I held Cyrus and Valérie in my arms and rushed them into the room, sitting them beside Nasrin while I stood on the other side. The nurse laid her down and spread her legs while Nasrin squeezed her eyes tightly, gasping for air as her body went through spasms.
"Monsieur, we will take your children into the next room. I will have a nurse look after them." The nurse led the screaming children into another room, wiping the tears from their eyes as she closed the door behind them. She ran back and positioned herself between Nasrin's legs.
"You would hope that by the third time it would be less painful!" she roared.
"Unfortunately, no," the nurse said. "All right, let us see how we are doing." She peered up Nasrin's skirt and nodded approvingly. "I can see the head. Push, dear, you must push."
"I AM PUSHING!" she bellowed before breathing in and pushing again, her face scarlet with effort.
I stood helplessly beside her and wiped the sweat from her face, holding her hand and whispering words of encouragement. I hated that there was nothing more I could do and I gritted my teeth.
"Dear, we're almost there, just one more good one." The nurse's calm voice soothed me more than her, for she breathed in once and pushed, her face contorted with effort. Suddenly, she cried out and I grabbed her, holding her in my arms.
A loud screeching cry resounded through the room and once again I found myself with tears. I knew the noise of a new child and I began showering Nasrin's face with kisses.
"Very well done, my love. Beautifully well done," I cooed in her ear as she panted and shook. I pressed my forehead to hers and she kissed me softly, panting in my mouth.
I moved from her and looked at the new infant, still bloody from the womb. I found myself smiling. This was far more beautiful than any aria I or anyone could possibly compose. This creation was of my blood, my soul. Me. And Nasrin as well. A child, I had never known, could be so unbelievably loved even before it had opened its eyes.
"How is it?" I asked, standing behind the nurse, who had since finished cleaning the infant off.
"It's a boy. A healthy baby boy… but for…"
"But for what?" Nasrin asked immediately, straining to raise her head to see what I had feared.
"Let me see him," I implored, taking the bawling infant from the nurse's arms. As I peered down at my little son, my eyes widened. Now that the blood had been cleaned away, my child looked much different.
"Delano, what's wrong?" Nasrin asked frantically, her voice sharp with fright.
"He… he looks like me," I answered dumbly.
"Dear, that's wonderful," she cooed, the look in her eyes softening.
"He looks like me down to my ears, my hair… and my face." I touched my mask again, running my finger over its deceptively smooth surface and cursing what lay beneath.
Nasrin opened her arms. "Let me see him." Her arms began to shake. I hurried to her side and presented her with the trembling baby. I pressed my head sorrowfully against hers.
You could only delay the inevitable, Erik; you could never defeat fate. One of your children was bound to bear the brand of the Devil's Child. Now look what you have brought upon your family, you terrible, repulsive ogre! The voice of despair jeered and taunted me in my head, sending me careening into despairing thoughts.
"Delano." Nasrin's ragged voice broke the spell that had consumed me.
"What is it, my dear?" I answered miserably.
"He is beautiful," she answered calmly, looking down at him with glassy eyes. "Nurse, bring my children here. I want them to see their new brother."
Immediately, the nurse threw open the door, allowing our children to burst forth, fighting over who would see him first. As soon as they both were stilled, they gazed upon the infant, now serene with slumber. He had fallen asleep almost immediately after being put in Nasrin's arms. I leaned down and kissed her gently again and again, unable to cease my affection.
"Ew, father! Stop it!" Cyrus protested. I sheepishly pulled away, looking into Nasrin's smiling eyes.
"Cyrus, you should be happy that we kiss each other instead of quarrel," Nasrin cooed, ruffling Cyrus's hair as he touched the infant's little hand.
"But you do quarrel," Valérie pointed out, keen as always.
"Well, yes," I interjected. "We do. But they never amount to anything serious."
"Pardon me for interrupting," the nurse quietly said, bowing her head once. My whole family turned to her, and I stepped forward.
"Not at all."
"Monsieur, if I may see you for a moment." She walked into the back room; I followed her quietly, nodding reassuringly at Nasrin, who in turn would comfort the children.
"Yes, Madame. What is the matter? Is something wrong with my son?"
"No, Monsieur. However, you seem to think there is. If it is not too bold to say, may I say something?"
"Yes, of course."
"Your wife is right Monsieur; he is a beautiful boy." She smiled warmly. "He will grow up to be quite handsome." Did she not understand? Did she not see what I saw?
"But… his face…" I began.
"What of it? You say you have the same face beneath that mask, but you have a lovely young wife and three beautiful children. If your new son grows to be as prosperous as you are, I believe that is a blessing, if you don't mind me saying so." She flushed and bowed again, an amiable smile danced across her chapped lips.
"Thank you, Madame. Is that all you wished to tell me?" I asked, looking over my shoulder at Nasrin, who seemed to grow more uneasy by the minute. As usual, she was conjecturing the worst.
"No, Monsieur. I also wanted to ask you for your family's and his name. I was filling out the birth certificate and I know neither your family's nor your baby's name."
"I am Monsieur Delano Morel; my wife is Sadira. As for the name of our child, will you allow me to confer with her?" I moved towards the door.
"Yes, of course. Please let me know when you are ready, and I shall record it." She bowed and walked out of the room, myself close in tail.
"Delano, is everything all right?" Nasrin asked, her gaze burning into me.
"Yes, we just need a name for the baby is all." I walked to her side and pressed my head against hers; we both gazed down at the sleeping infant, my mark branded on the right side of his face. I wondered to myself if I looked that way when I slept after birth. Why did this nurse find him beautiful but my mother did not see me in that light?
The children began making a din, throwing out names that could only belong to an imaginary friend. I found myself laughing quietly at their idolizing youthful suggestions. But at once, Nasrin's shaky voice rose above theirs.
"His name will be Erik," she proclaimed, her eyes slightly drifting in my direction.
I squeezed her hand discreetly as the nurse wrote it down. She pressed the child to her chest and leaned back, sleep imminent in the way her eyes fluttered.
"Cyrus, Valérie, come with me. Your mother needs some well deserved rest." As they walked around to my side, I kissed Nasrin on the forehead, mumbling, "Beautifully well done, my love. Sleep now; you know I will be here when you awaken."
She sighed as the nurse took Erik to be measured. "The children too," she commanded softly.
"Yes, of course." My voice lowered to a barely audible whisper as I whispered in her ear, "Sleep well, my little Fire Rose."
As she fell asleep, a smile capered across her face. Quietly, I led Cyrus and Valérie outside, feeling a demon being exercised out of me as my son's face flashed into my mind.
I had even forgotten what had prevented me from seeing such beauty before today. And now, I was quite content standing in the warm sunlight, with two of my children holding onto me. That, no matter what happened later on, would never change.
A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers! Mwa!
Jen Lennon: Thanks for your review and here is your update! Hope you like it!
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Victorian Dream: LOL I am a firstborn as well, so I know where you're coming from. And yes, you're right. But just the prospect that your child died is very upsetting to any parent. However, you are right; as you read, there is plenty more where that came from. XD! Thanks for your review and here is your update!
AngelOfTheNight: LOL yes, they do eventually. Thanks for your review and here is your update!
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