Disclaimer: I don't own PotO. Merci.

Chapter XVII: The Dark Angel's Inspiration

The pounding notes grew louder as Adrien and Isabella hurried through the rooms. And then, as suddenly as it had grown, the music became quiet, gentle, and flowing.

"Erik?" Adrien called.

The music stopped. "Ici."

"Oui, nous savons," Adrien laughed.

Erik turned on the bench as they came in, his eyes brightening.

"Did you get some sort of profound inspiration while we were away?" Isabella took in the sheets scattered on the floor and the ink splotches all over his hands.

Erik smirked. "You'd be surprised, mademoiselle."

She sat down on the bench facing Adrien, her back to Erik. "Where did this one come from?"

He hesitated before answering. "Actually… the two of you."

Adrien, on the verge of heading to get a drink, did a double take. "Did I hear that correctly?"

"Yes… this is called The Troubled Paths. It's from what I know about both of you."

Isabella couldn't figure out any way Erik would have known about her except –

"Did you hear what I was telling Adrien the other day?"

He turned to her. "No, I was down the hall and too overcome by my own thoughts to be thinking of what you were doing."

"Then how…?"

His eyes softened. "Ma chère, I killed him."

"Killed… who?"

"That man… on that dark night outside Genova."

She gasped, remembering. "How… What?"

Adrien's gaze, too, had clouded over in an effort to understand what Erik was saying.

The old man sighed.

"I had been visiting the company of an old friend in Italy. Giovanni had first introduced me to architecture and design. I was curious to see if his company had built any more grand pieces for my inspection, and so I stayed for a few days.

"When I traveled, I was careful to go quickly and quietly at night, to avoid… distractions. On the second night of my departure, I heard a scuffling in the bushes near the road, and then a bloodcurdling scream. I burst into a clearing to find a drunk nearly flattening a girl, and my rage and instinct took over. Before any of us knew what had happened, I whipped my lasso over a tree and around his neck, lifting him into the air. When I could hold it no longer, I dropped him; dead.

"I would have stayed with the girl longer, but upon reaching Genova I heard the news of Christine's death. I hastened back to pay my respects."

Isabella regarded him through tear-filled eyes. "My dark angel…"

He turned back to the piano and began to play. The music soared from quiet roots, enveloping them all in tales of heartbreak, loss, confusion and love.

When The Troubled Paths was finished, the melody evolved smoothly to the now well-known Angel of Music.

Wandering childJeune innocente

So lost, so helplessPerdue, perplexe

Yearning for myTu n'attendais

GuidanceQue moi

Angel or father,Ange ou saveur,

Friend or phantom,Fantôme ou père,

Who is it thereQui me regarde

Staring?Ainsi?

Have you forgotten your Angel?Te souviens-tu de ton Ange?

Angel, oh speakAnge de grâce,

What endless longingsVas-tu répondre

Echo in thisTant de questions

Whisper?M'agitent

Too long you've wandered in winterTu languissais sans comprendre

Far from my fathering gazeLoin du regard paternel

Wildly my mind beats against youSoit, mon esprit vous résiste

You resist…Tu te bats…

Yet the soul obeys!Mais ton coeur chancelle!

Angel of music,Ange de musique,

You denied me,Ton âme est a moi,

Turning from trueC'est ce que tout

Beauty!Te dit!

Angel of music,Ange de musique,

My protector,Vous, mon guide,

Come to me, strangeQuand viendrez-vous

Angel!Cher Ange?

Hope you like this one, I wanted to tie up that loose end. I'm not sure how many more chapters there'll be; let me know if you have any ideas!

Phantomfreak07