Chapter 12: Into Motion.

Meg ran away from the crowd, gathered in the practice hall, and as far away from any people as she could run. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest that she was afraid it was trying to escape her body. She had no idea why the story had moved her so deeply but it all seemed so familiar in a way. She had known it was the Phantom's work, she was one of the few people who had been included in the managers plans and yet when Andre had mentioned the Phantom her body seemed to take over for her mind. Something moved her to this place of memories and fear but it wasn't a fear for herself. It was a deeper, more meaningful fear for someone else. Was it for the Phantom himself that she was afraid. She almost believed herself to be going crazy and yet she couldn't stop herself from moving forward through the theatre. She made her way down into the theatre and stopped, suddenly, when she came to the stone steps that spiralled downward into the abyss. Her feet seemed uncontrolled by her body and they stopped short not able to move anymore. She could not force herself downward or even away from the spot. So it was here that she stopped and wept for everything that she had been holding in side her, the things she was afraid of and everything that seemed sad and unnatural about her small secluded world of the Opera House. Never before had her world be turned so upside down and yet she seemed to be the only one affected by the mystery. Was she the only one who remembered the feelings and the pain she saw in the eyes of her companions as the Phantom's first opera was released. She felt responsible in a way for everything that was happening and, although people believed the things a blessing, Meg had a feeling of dread and regret growing within her. She had once had the feelings of blessing and curiosity when it came to the Phantom, now she felt a deep dwelling pain for him and the things that the managers had planned.

Andre's story telling had the desired effect. Before noon had arrived and the summer sun was high in the sky, everyone in the theatre knew of the Phantom's new opera. Everyone from the ballerinas, to the men working the flies and the women who worked with costuming. The announcing of the show to the ballerinas first was agreed upon early that morning. Andre and Firmin knew that the ballerinas would do anything to gossip and giggle with each other and it would be the fastest way to get the word out, for once the ballerinas know the word spreads like a wild fire. With the spread of the news came, unfortunate, rumours of the Phantom. Alleged sightings of him, terrible warnings and old stories began to surface as the truth became more and more twisted. It was something to be expected but hard for some parties to hear. Madame Giry spent much of her time hushing the stories of the Phantom but when her back was turned they raged on stronger than ever. It was exactly the publicity Firmin had hoped for in the beginning, when contriving his plan. His mood began to lighten as the first patrons began to flock to the theatre with questions about the new drama and the rumours of the return of the Opera Ghost. Perhaps the plan was going to work, excitement was rising and the theatre seemed to be the centre of the universe once again.

The men who had joined Andre and Firmin, in the practice hall, were painters, journalists and dress makers, ready for the inspiration to do their side of the theatrical roll. There jobs would be quite easy with the in depth instructions the Phantom had left in his manuscript. The painters and artist knew exactly how the stage was to look, the details that the gave Phantom were so precise, he even gave stage measurements for props and sets. The dresses were so well described for the ballerinas and other costumes that he had even listed fabrics that would have to be used to gain the desired effect. And seeing all these instructions in the Phantom's own hand was all that was needed for the journalist to write their own fictions to publish to the public. Soon all of Paris would know of the Phantom's return and pieces of the spectacle would start to show itself in and outside of the theatre.

It wasn't long before huge painted announcement were posted on the walls, outside the theatre. Their paint still glistening in the sun light as people from all around the city stopped to read about what was happening next. The posters were very brief, stating only that musicians, singers, and dancers were all welcome to inquire withing for auditions. It also stated in bold writing that the Phantom's new work was a new and innovative masterpiece set to bring musical drama back to the forefront of the popular entertainment scene. In a smaller print, the poster welcomed any donations toward the production and invited the patrons to contact the managers directly. This announcements did its job and soon people were flocking in with requests for audition times as well, Andre and Firmin welcomed some of the most wealthy men and women into their office. It really had become and exciting time for the theatre. With the ever rising cost of the production, Andre and Firmin had not trouble taking money from the patrons and with the return of the theatre and any reason to gather to gossip the public was more than happy to pay.

Some of the local people, people that had been around during the first visitation by the Phantom, were still feeling sceptic about his return and were very verbal about it in the street before the theatre. But the excitement of something big and new and mysterious was much bolder and drowned out the cries of the sceptics. The good seemed to be outweighing the bad and Andre and Firmin were ready to ride the excitement as long as it might last. Money was coming into the theatre already.

Andre and Firmin were pleased to see all of the action in their theatre again. Their busyness seemed to take away the remaining reservations about the Phantom. The ballerinas had done their jobs and had now fallen into a new dedication to their craft. The practice hall was packed with silent practice and graceful movements, for it was clear that every ballerina wanted to be recognised in the prestigious lead roll of La Diable. Madame Giry was pleased with the new concentration and dedication to the craft but she knew that it would take much more than a day to please the Phantom. She had seen the manuscript and was aware of the high technical difficulty of all of the dance. He had even gone as far as creating some things that she, herself, had never done or seen done as a ballerina. It would be a new and difficult thing to ready the dancers for such a work and through she didn't agree with some of the freeness of the dance she knew that it would be very dramatic and would take all the skill that her girls could possible muster to pull it off. She worked her girls harder and longer that day and not one of them complained for they knew, by the look on her face, that the matter of the dance for this work was going to be very focal to the plot. It was clear to everyone it was going to be a lot of work.

Meg, however, stayed out of sight for most of the day. She had cried herself into exhaustion on the steps that led down toward the Phantom's home but she couldn't bring herself to go down any further. Finally, when the cold of the stone steps had chilled her to the bone, she left the seclusion of the hidden place and snuck off to her room. It was here that she fell into her bed and slept a deep and dreamless sleep, undisturbed by anyone.

When she finally woke again, she was stiff and hungry, but felt very relieved as if the sleep had lifted a great burden from her. After finding a cup of tea and some toast she found herself back in the practice hall. The sun had begun to set and the theatre around her had grown quiet. Outside its walls, however, the streets were busier than they had been in a long time. Many people were still coming and going just to see the announcement posters. She was happy she had missed most of the day and looked down at the passers. They looked like ants, scurrying about the streets. Her mind told her that the publicity would be good for the theatre and this was what was needed to save it but she had a terrible feeling of dread still. Maybe it was pity for the Phantom. He didn't need the publicity, he was misunderstood enough. Or maybe it was a dread that the drama wouldn't be the success everyone hoped it would be. Sadly the dread lingered on for her for a very long time.

The practice hall grew darker as the sun set, casting long patches of gold, orange and red light on the floor. Meg saw the beautiful colours and was pulled back to the plot of Erik's drama. She slipped the shoes off her feet, and felt the cool hard wood as she passed her bare feet through the fiery colours of the sunset. A music only she heard played in the back of her mind as she danced. She moved softly and silently across the floor. Her movements were like the flickering of fire and yet filled with a heart breaking emotion. It was a simpler dance, one she would never do in the presence of her mother. Her technique was lost from it. She moved more freely than she would ever do in performance and still it was spellbinding. As the last rays of the sunset light fell out of the room Meg felt herself chasing after them toward the windows. Her body was warm from her movement but as the light faded she felt chilled, like a sudden cold had passed over her. She shivered visibly as she watched, through the window, as the last of the sun dipped down behind the buildings. She stopped and leaned against the window ledge. There, behind the glass, the sky changed before her eyes. The darkness grew thicker and yet the eyes of the stars opened to look down on the world. The windows of the surrounding buildings began to burst with light and smoke still billowed from the chimneys. She sighed as she looked out at the world. It was a placed that Meg had never longed for because it held no mystery for her. Everything she had ever dreamed, she was able to live in the land of make believe that was the Opera Populair.

"Why do I welcome the darkness?" she asked out loud, "what spell have you cast?"

"There are no spells here," a voice from within said, "the daylight is what deceives you. Its dawn and dusk that are the most beautiful parts of the day. Those are mother earths works of art."

"And yet so much magic resides in the passing of the daylight to darkness and the darkness to light," Meg said as she slowly turned away from the window and looked into the darkness of the practice hall. There before her was the Phantom, "you've taken to haunting the ballet hall. Soon the young ones will be calling you the ballet ghost," she added with a smile.

"I don't take much interest in the other ballerinas. They are far to disillusioned by the light. Blind by the visions of wealth and prosperity. They see to much when the sun is high and the world is bright because it is at that time that things are waved before their faced and like greedy little children they want to grab and consume every bit of it," the Phantom said as he walked closer to Meg and leaned on the window ledge beside her, "far more evil happens in the broad daylight. Evening had a bad reputation because people need to place the evil somewhere that they cannot see it. That is why ghost haunt and daemons prowl. They need a way to teach their children about the horrors of life by giving them something to fear. They simply don't want to face the reality that it is there in the day light as it is in the darkness."

"How true," Meg sighed, "and so very poetic but Monsieur if you didn't want to seem so horrific and instill fear in the people around you then why do you lurk in the shadows? Why then do you do the magic you do?"

"We'll I suppose after a while one must live up to the expectations of others," he said with a sigh, "I have stopped trying to be what I am not, in the eyes of the public, and therefore I live only as they see me."

"It is a sad life you lead," Meg said, compassion in her voice.

"It was for a while," he smiled, "but I am used to it now, and rather like the quiet of my solitude. One can't always be young and adventurous, I suppose I have settled into my ways and now my horrors are only the stories that the people tell. Yes I have my history but it is all in the past, we must move forward now."

"Well put," Meg said, "you captivate me with your language speech. Someday I hope to see the world as you do."

"You're dancing was much more beautiful than my speech my dear," he answered.

"Oh, Monsieur, you flatter me," Meg said and blushed, "there was no technique to it," she said feeling embarrassed at her lack of professionalism, "had my mother witnessed that I would have surely been whipped and set to rehearsing my five basic positions."

Erik chuckled a little at her comment, "oh but my dear, it was so filled with emotion," he said, "isn't that the entire point? Once the technique is there you can let the emotions lead you. That is truly what it takes to be La prima ballerina or in our case La Diable," he said as he glanced out the window.

"Again you give my far to much credit," meg said feeling more embarrassed, "I am not worthy of such compliments."

"On the contrary young one, your dancing is inspirational," Erik smiled a kind and gentle smile, "dare I say you've been my muse," his voice was hushed.

Meg blushed but in the darkness Erik didn't catch the change in her face, "then you have been haunting the ballet hall," she said playfully.

He let a small laugh slip as he watched her back away from him and bow in an overly exaggerated dancers way.

"And have you come to gain more inspiration?" she asked as she placed herself in a position to perform a pirouette, "shall I dance for you?"

"If you wish to dance, then it is for you to do," he said softly as he sat on the windowsill and looked out at the stars, "I will never do anything to force anyone against their will again. I've learned my lesson."

Meg shivered a little at the comment.

"I admit, I have been deceptive in my days," he said with a sigh, "but I want only to right my wrongs." he said never looking away from the world outside.

A sadness seemed to take over the ballet space. Meg walked back to the windowsill, where her shoes were and slipped them back onto her feet. She suddenly felt less like dancing and more like crying, though she didn't think she could cry anymore that day. The great ballet room suddenly felt so much smaller. She moved slowly closer to the Phantom and sat down beside him on the windowsill, "You long to leave," she said as she looked out the window, "why don't you?" she asked.

"The world isn't a place for me," he said sadly as their eyes met.

"The world is only the place that you make for yourself," she said as she reached up and caressed the side of his face that wasn't covered by his mask.

Erik shuddered, a little, by the soft and fearless touch. Meg pulled back noticing his discomfort.

"I'm sorry," she said softly lowering her eyes.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he said raising her chin with his gloved hand, "you are right, you know, the world is what you made of it, however, you have to place yourself in the other worlds of the rest of humanity and that is where I don't belong. I haven't always lived in this place, but is has been the safest," he said as he looked back at the stars, "where ever your road takes you, young one, you'll find sadness and evil. You have to decide where you feel safest but don't close off the world."

"But why go searching when you are safe and happy where you are?" she asked finally, "I've been offered the world by many men but none of them have offered me the things that make me happy, that the theatre gives me every day," she said, "I'm safe and content here and I have no desire to see the world outside these walls."

"Someday you may," Erik said looking at her again.

"You long for the outside world I can see it in your eyes," she said looking deeply at him again.

"Its more curiosity than longing," he said, "I am curious to see if things have changed but I fear things have changed for the worst. That is what really keeps me here. I am safe in my life, or was until I decided to help the theatre."

"It is going to be dangerous for you isn't it?" Meg asked fear rising in her voice.

"It may be, and it may not. We'll have to wait and see," he said with a sigh.

"I'm overcome with worry," she said as she shivered, "there is far to much riding on you now."

Erik reached out and wrapped the edge of his cape around her shoulders pulling her closer to him, "well, people always need someone or something to blame. I am the fear they chose to use to cover for their own misfortunes."

"What will you do if something goes wrong?" Meg asked, "they search longer and harder for you this time."

"They wont find me," he said, "I have far to many places to hide, you need not worry about that."

"Even if there is no one that believes that you are good, I will speak for you," Meg said boldly, "let them condemn me as well."

"They wont be able to condemn you," Erik said, "they'll be feel to much pity for you."

Meg looked at him quizzically.

"Meg I need you to dance as La Diable in the drama," Erik said finally, "I have been trying to ask you all night and now I realise that I cannot ask you, I need you to do it or the drama will fail. I cannot force you as I one may have, but I can plead with you to see why you are so needed for this roll. You, child, have within you the capacity to dance the world into the future. Your freedom of movement portrays so much more than the strict ballet of the past. Please, I beg you,"

"But I've not got the skill for it," she said fearfully.

"You do, and whatever you need to learn I know you can," he said.

"Will you help me?" she asked her eyes pleading like the twinkling stars.

"I will, but I'll not come to you," he said.

"I know how to find you," she smiled.

"Then it is settled," he said, "please come to me tomorrow night and we'll begin. We haven't much time."

"I will," she said and watched as he stood and disappeared into the darkness.