Chapter 10 Magic Mirror

Erik ignored the numbness that was creeping up his legs and carefully repositioned himself on the tree branch. Below him, his dear Christine was reliving her painful past. Raoul reached out to comfort her at a difficult moment and had Christine not been sitting directly under him, Erik would have dropped out of the dark tree and pounced on the boy. He held back a growl and gripped the branch so tight he could feel the bark ripping into his hands. A fierce wave of jealously washed over him like scalding water, but he bit back the violent urge and continued to listen.

He had followed them to the restaurant and waited outside until they left for Crawford Lake. While the love-struck couple was busy gathering a blanket and treating themselves to dessert, Erik quietly shinnied up this tree to get a perfect view of the proceedings. If that youth made any attempt to violate Christine in any way, Erik swore that the boy would never be seen again. Much to his disappointment, Raoul behaved like a perfect gentleman throughout the evening.

"...Angel of Music..." Erik smiled to himself. It was only a matter of time before his beautiful angel made the connection between her father's final words and the title Erik had given himself. He had heard her muttering it in her sleep and decided that he could use the information to his advantage; however, it surprised him that she had yet to make the connect. All in due time, she would realize it all in due time. When she did, Christine would forever be his. Erik smiled at the thought, imagining her in his arms—not as a friend—as a lover and wife.

Lost in the bowels of his imagination, Erik nearly missed the couple's departure toward Raoul's car. He started to climb out of his tree when he heard a rustle from nearby. He froze as Christine looked in his direction, but the noise stopped and she stepped into the car. Erik let out the breath he had been holding and quickly slipped down the tree, landing noiselessly on the ground below. He began walking to the road when another rustling stopped him in his tracks. He stared into the darkness trying to make out a dark object he thought he saw moving. Slinking through the wooded area as quietly and as quickly as possible, Erik caught a glimpse of a black-clad figure exiting the tree line. By the time he could get a clear view, the mysterious figure had already gotten in a vehicle and pulled away, leaving Erik in darkness except for retreating red taillights.

Now that's peculiar, Erik thought to himself. It seems as if I'm not the only Phantom lurking around.

Erik traveled cross-country back to campus, entered Majestic Hall by his secret entrance behind the large generator unit, and arrived in his room just in time to hear Raoul say goodnight and saunter down the hallway. Erik was losing patience with Christine for her not recognizing him has the "Angel of Music" her father had promised her. The dark walk back to campus gave him time to contemplate the situation and he decided that there was no harm in nudging her in the right direction. All he had to do was wait until Christine was sure to be sound asleep. Until then, Erik grabbed a piece of charcoal and busied himself by making several drawings of his beloved angel in his sketchbook.

In about an hour, Erik found himself surrounded by Christine. There was a sketch of her kneeling on the blanket beside Crawford Lake on a sunny spring day, dressed in a Victorian gown with the skirts pooled elegantly around her. Her eyes were closed in contentment as she held a rose up to inhale its sweet fragrance. Another was of her leaning against a concert piano in casual clothes during one of her lessons. Her reflection showed in the polished surface of the instrument and her mouth was open as she was singing. Erik purposely left the pianist in shadows. His favorite, however, was a simple portrait of Christine with her hair swept up with fake flowers. She appeared to stare directly at the viewer with large expressive eyes and a delicate smile. This was the image that was burned into Erik's memory that day he saw her through the mirror. That was the day Erik fell desperately in love with Miss Christine Daaé. That was the day his obsession ceased being a pursuit of power and glory for himself; instead, it had become a quest to gain the love of another with whom he could share his gifts and passion. That was the day...

Erik's thoughts were interrupted by the soft chiming of an antique clock resting upon his dresser. Its shimmering mother-of-pearl face and ebony inlaid Roman numerals stood in beautiful contrast to its dark mahogany base. This was one of very few cherished items he was in possession of from his childhood home. The clock was one of his first projects and even though he was quite young when he restored the broken and neglected relic to its former glory, Erik was to this day proud of the workmanship it exhibited.

3 am, it read. Erik carefully gathered his drawing supplies, placed his newest creations into a protective folder, and tucked them neatly away. It was time to give Christine the push she needed. Dressed in his most formal attire: tuxedo pants, white cravat and shirt, maroon brocade vest, tailcoat, and white gloves; Erik turned out his lights, shrouding the room in darkness, and opened his closet. Christine was indeed settled in a deep slumber so Erik began to work his magic and theatrics. Carefully throwing his voice into the room, Erik began to sing in a whispered smooth hypnotic tone.

"Christine, Christine. I am your Angel of Music...I am your Angel of Music...Christine, Christine. Come to your Angel of Music...Have you forgotten your Angel of Music?... "

This has been quite the magical evening indeed, Christine thought as she ran a comb through her brunette ringlets. She was emotionally exhausted, yet strangely content with herself. Finding out that Raoul was her long-lost childhood sweetheart who still had feelings for her even after all this time, and going on a wonderful date both felt like a dream come true. While reliving her painful past was not on her list of joyful activities, just sharing it with someone who truly cared about her—not as a patient, but as a dear friend—lifted a great weight off of her shoulders and mind. She now had someone she could talk candidly to.

But didn't I do that with Erik? She thought about it a moment. While she felt like she could tell Erik anything, the fact that he had disclosed so little about himself and his past to her made Christine hesitant to open up to him. She sighed, turned out her light, and crept under her warm fluffy comforter. Within moments, the weary girl drifted off in pleasant slumber.

"Daddy! Daddy! Look what I made for you!" A young Christine in a pink snowsuit and boots ran up to he father and pulled on the sleeve of his heavy winter coat. He turned and looked in the direction she was frantically pointing to. There in the snow, lay a perfect snow angel. She beamed as her father walked over for closer inspection. Gustav Daaé moved closer to its head while taking great care not to disturb his daughter's masterpiece, took off his woolen mitten, and began to draw in the crisp white snow.

"There, now that's better, Little Lotte," he said after a few minutes. Christine circled the creation with a critical eye. The man stood up and smiled at the confused look on his young daughter's face.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Those," he gestured toward his drawings. "are music notes. That is who people know how to play and instrument or sing a song. Music notes are like the alphabet only when put them together, you will have a song instead of a story." She stared at them, still confused.

"Why did you draw them next to my angel?" Gustav smiled and shook his head.

"Have you forgotten the story of the Angel of Music? This angel here is so perfect it must be the Angel of Music who comes to everyone destined to be a great musician," He reached down and embraced his little girl. "One day, Little Lotte, the Angel of Music will come to you. The Angel of Music will help you sing like a real angel in Heaven."

Older Christine was a spectator to the scene. She tried to call out to her father, but no sound came out. The two paid no attention to her as if she was a ghost. Suddenly, Christine was no long standing in the snow. She heard familiar beeps and took in her new surroundings.

"No, oh no. Not this. Please not this," she silently pleaded. She knew this scene all too well and had relived it too many times to count in the months and years after her parents' tragic accident. She was standing in a hospital hallway. Nurses were busily rushing around checking on patients and pages were being announced constantly over the speaker system. The glare from the fluorescent lights forced Christine to squint her eyes. She suddenly saw a familiar young girl—her younger self—being escorted into a nearby room by Wendy. She knew the rest of this story and tried desperately to not follow them into that room. Try as she might, she involuntarily appeared at the doorway and walked over to her dying father. She could hear him whisper those final words to her.

"When I get to Heaven, I will send a guardian angel—an Angel of Music—to watch over you and guide you. Never forget your Angel of Music, Little Lotte. Never forget..." The room started to go black and the scene vanished. Soon, Christine stood alone in total darkness.

"Wake up," she urged herself, closing her eyes. "Just wake up. This is just a dream. Come on, Christine, wake up!" She opened her eyes expecting to see the familiar inside of her dorm room. Instead, she found herself standing in a mist-covered grave yard. She shivered in the cool damp air and perceived tombstones and statues surrounding her. She looked to her right and saw a weathered statue of a perfectly beautiful angel, except that its wings had broken off and lay in pieces on the ground below. Christine felt a pang of sadness for that angel, for what is an angel without wings? It is nothing but a man or a woman. She surveyed the damage to see if it was possible to fix when she heard a haunting voice calling her name.

"Christine..." it called. "Christine..." She turned and slowly followed the voice until she arrived at a familiar looking tomb. She gazed up the stone staircase, and above the ornate stone carving entrance stood the letters she dreaded to see: D A A É. This was her parents' tomb. She collapsed in despair at the base of the steps and stared at the name with tears running down her cheeks.

"Christine..." the voice called again. This time, it sounded like it was coming from inside the tomb. A lantern inside the locked gates illuminated the entrance and the gates swung open.

This is impossible, Christine thought in disbelief. Even so, the voice continued on, and began to sound more and more like that of her father's.

"Christine, my angel, you have forgotten me."

"No, Daddy, I haven't forgotten you!" she pleaded and shook her head. "How could I when I miss you so much?"

"Christine, have you forgotten your Angel of Music?"

"What?"

"You have forgotten my promise to send the Angel of Music to you, and so you have forgotten me."

"No, I have not forgotten the Angel of Music! You just haven't sent it to me yet. I have not forgotten about you either!" She felt hot tears running down her face.

"Ah, but I have, my child. You have met the Angel of Music. I have sent him to you." Christine meditated on this information for a minute and then the realization dawned on her.

"ERIK! Erik is my Angel of Music!" She asked herself how she could not have realized it earlier.

"Trust in your Angel of Music, darling. He will make you sing like an angel yourself, but you must obey him. If you don't, he will never return to you."

"Oh, I will, Daddy. I promise I will!"

"I love you, Christine. You make me very proud..." The voice started to fade as did the cemetery. Christine looked around in desperation for her father, but everything quickly turned black yet again. From the darkness, the melodious voice faintly returned.

"I am your Angel of Music...Come to the Angel of Music..."

Christine sat bolt upright in bed, shaking. Of all the dreams and nightmares she had experienced over the years, this was by far the most detailed and realistic. She brushed her hair off of her tear-streaked face and tried to get her bearings. It was only a dream, she told herself. It was only a dream. She was about to lay back down when she the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Her heart beat faster.

"Christine..."

No, she had to have made it up. Was she still sleeping? Christine pinched her arm. No, she was definitely awake, but was her mind just playing trick on her in the darkness?

"Christine...I am your Angel of Music. Come to the Angel of Music..." The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Christine jumped out of bed and looked around her dark room, senses on high alert. She tried to turn on the lights, but found that the power had been cut.

"Angel of Music, speak again. I hear you," she pleaded. "Please, show yourself."

"Dear sweet child you know me. Look at your face in the mirror..." Christine did as she was told and stared at her faint reflection in her mirror. After seeing nothing except herself for a moment, the image began to change.

"I am there inside." Suddenly light illuminated a white mask in the mirror. Christine quickly glanced behind her expecting to see Erik, but she was standing alone. Her breath caught in her throat and she stared at the mirror. She could no longer see her reflection but what shocked her most was the moment a white gloved hand reached through the mirror.

"I am your Angel of Music. Come to the Angel of Music." His voice was hypnotic and without even thinking, Christine placed her hand in his, her eyes never leaving his, and was gently pulled through her full-length mirror.

Erik smiled to himself as he guided his entranced beauty into the darkness of his closet and through a hidden door on the left hand wall. Picking up a lantern he had set just inside, he led her down his secret staircase that ran along the side of the building. Down they went into the basement of Majestic Hall. From there, Erik triggered another switch and the wall opened up, revealing a hidden tunnel. He led Christine through the damp darkness which seemed to swallow the dim light of the lantern. He noticed her shiver slightly in her nightshirt and shorts. Cursing himself for neglecting to take the cool temperatures into consideration, Erik picked up the pace and flew with his angel through the underground labyrinth. He came back to the stairs and climbed up two flights before opening another secret door and finally reaching his desired destination, allowed them to rest.

He left the lantern in the hallway which plunged the dimly lit room into complete darkness. Even Erik, who was able to see in the dark better than most people, was virtually blind, but it didn't matter. He knew this room inside and out and surely guided Christine over to a plush chair. Christine felt a soft warm blanket draped over her shoulders and snuggled into it appreciatively.

He walked over to the wall and lit the mounted candle, and proceeded to make his way around the room until it glowed with candlelight.

Christine squinted her eyes and allowed them to adjust to the light. When she was able to see clearly again, the sight took her breath away. The room was lavish with black and red curtains, blankets, pillows, and ornate old-style decorations. All of the furniture was of deep mahogany finish. She looked at the black blanket nestled around her: cashmere. The light reflected off many polished surfaces, including a small black upright piano in the left corner. Sheet music was scattered on every available surface and some even found its way to the floor. A familiar shape showed through it's covering (a keyboard perhaps?) and several instrument cases were tucked neatly in an alcove of the room.

Christine's gaze finally fell on Erik who was standing to her left, watching her intently as she took in her surroundings. This was the first time she seen him in the light since she left her room and was astounded by his formal appearance. He was tall, dark, handsome, charming, mysterious, and intense...very intense. Just the sight of him tonight seemed to put Christine under a provocative spell. She wanted Erik, she needed Erik...

"Christine, my dear," Erik spoke, breaking the spell. "You will be sleeping here tonight." He gestured toward a luxurious couch directly across from the chair Christine had settled in. She nodded and sunk into its plush surface and immediately drifted off to sleep.

"All of your questions will be answered in the morning," Erik whispered to his exhausted angel. He tucked an extra blanket on the couch and extinguished most of the candles. Erik then gently kissed her forehead and left the room to make his way upstairs to his own bedroom.