The Crystal Rainbow
An Alternate Universe – Phantom of the Opera Story
Nyasia A. Maire
© 2007
DISCLAIMER: I do not hold the rights nor did I create any characters found in The Phantom of the Opera or Phantom, nor have I received monetary compensation for writing this story.
Lessons of love forever kept
Close to the heart, dear to the breast.
A Fool's Book of Wisdom
Chapter Eighteen – Lessons
The old woman's melodious voice interrupted the two young people's silent conversation.
"Is it not obvious, mes enfants? I must begin Christine's training as soon as possible. For the sooner she can control her power, the sooner I can leave the two of you to your own devices … so to speak."
◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊
"No! No! No! You must relax! Clear your mind and feel the tranquility of peace wash over you. You cannot force yourself to feel peaceful! There is a diametric opposition in the concepts of force and peace. Would you not agree with me on this principle? Good! Well, then have you not heard a single word I have said? You are attempting to force a meditative state, which is not possible. Trust me! Now, try again. Close your eyes. Relax. Listen to the sound of your breathing. In and out. In and out. Clear your mind of all thoughts and listen only to the sound of my voice and your breath. In and out. In and out. You feel the slow, steady beating of your heart, which calms you further. You feel yourself relax as you release the tension in your body. Your body seems to float on a cushion of air and you find yourself thinking back and examining the happy times in your life. Only the happy times … you search through your memories and find a time when you felt totally happy. A time so perfect that you felt completely at peace. Can you remember a moment in your life where you felt everything was perfect? Can you, Christine?"
The old woman's eyes lit up with silent anticipation as she watched Christine's limp form. She continued speaking her soft platitudes, encouraging the girl's deepening trance. A hiccough burst Helen's moment of triumph and sent the young woman into a fit of nervous giggles.
"Go! Get a drink of water and return when your hiccoughs are gone."
Helen pressed her fingers tightly across her forehead and rubbed vigorously as she fought against the pain in her head caused by her growing frustration with the girl. As Christine remained in frowning silence, the old woman suppressed a groan.
"Really! You cannot enter a trance with hiccoughs, Christine. Go!"
"Merde! I am not a teacher, Diamanté! I cannot even help the girl find her focus and I already feel my temper rising. I have no patience for this! What am I doing wrong?"
Her wrist felt suddenly awash in a burst of warmth and the ruby slowly began to glow.
"Both of you try too hard. The girl concentrates on the man and not your words. You allow your supposed memories of your mother's perfect lessons to frustrate you with your apparent lack of success. Believe me, crone, the lessons your mother taught your sister never came easily to either one of them and in the end, your sister rejected your mother's lessons. She left and turned her back on her legacy. Did she not? So, was your mother the perfect teacher if her student forsook her lessons and relinquished her claim to the bracelet? Well?"
The voice, which filled her head, spoke in an unusually mild tone. Helen did not answer as she felt the question to be rhetorical. Her suspicions were confirmed when Diamanté continued.
"We both know that your sister was weak. She never had the strength of will to channel my power, no matter how I tried to help her. Christine, on the other hand, is strong-willed. You must find the proper tools to teach her. She has an enormous fount of self-discipline bubbling deep within her. You must draw it to the surface and use it. Christine loved her father deeply, but his death left her feeling betrayed. She locked away her ability to love when he died, seeing it as a weakness and that is the reason her shared dreams with Erik ceased. She turned away from love and placed all of her passion into one outlet. Do you know what it is? I do and I believe that if he thought about it, Erik could tell you as well. It is her music. Her music is the key to her learning control and while you have a beautiful voice, you obviously do not have the gift of teaching. However, you do know someone who is a gifted teacher and makes music so sweet as to make the angels weep. Do you not, Helen?"
The old woman froze with the realization of just whom Diamanté meant.
"But, knowing how the two of them feel about one another and then placing them in such close proximity on a daily basis could lead even the most saintly of men into temptation. I do not know if I can allow you to place him into a situation, which could result in his death. While he is an exceptional human being, he is still just a man. And, in some ways, he is more a man than most men I have met, but still, he loves her and …."
"She must learn to make her song take flight and then guide it carefully back to earth. He can teach her how to control her voice and with that knowledge, she shall hold the key to her power. Can you deny her that chance? I think not! I believe that we shall obtain the best results if the girl and her mate do not know about this conversation. You shall continue to instruct her in the histories, rituals and incantations. I shall arrange the circumstance to arise that will inspire the offer of vocal lessons. Yes, I have always known that he holds a place of importance in the legacy. I just never understood his use until now. With his gift of music, the girl shall take command of her power and you will find your rest, old one."
The old woman started from her trance as she sensed the concern in the hand placed on her arm.
"Madame? Are you well? I am sorry. I do not mean to aggravate you. I will try harder, I promise!"
Helen blinked to clear the fog from her eyes and allowed a small smile to turn up the corners of her mouth.
"Oh, ma fille chérie, do not worry. I am well, just a slight headache. You do not aggravate me. No. No. I am frustrated with my own lack of ability. I am a poor teacher and I promise that I shall try harder, but, for now, I believe you need some fresh air. You should find Erik and ask him to accompany you on a walk. It is a lovely day and a few hours outdoors will do the both of you a world of good. I shall brew a pot of chamomile tea with some mint and birch bark then have a quiet cup by the fireside. That should relieve my aching head before it is time for us to prepare supper. Now, off with you!"
◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊
"It is such a shame that I could not find Erik. Helen was right, it is a lovely day and I would so love to have gone for a walk in the forest, but without him I do not think that is wise."
The young woman sighed wistfully and then, as she spied a bench next to a quaint stone well, she skipped to it and sat daintily upon it. She bent down and plucked a wild daisy.
"To think that some people consider this flower a weed! Well, Mademoiselle Daisy, you and I have much in common. We are both considered weeds, but in truth, we are diamonds in the rough!"
She laughed gaily as she tucked the flower behind her ear then bent to pluck another blossom.
"I do believe I shall ask the daisy to tell me whether Erik's love for me is true. Will you do me this great favor, Mademoiselle? I can think of no greater cause to which you could sacrifice your petals …."
With a gentle smile, she carefully plucked a petal from the daisy and began to sing.
"He loves me ….
He loves me not ….
Please tell me what I need to know ….
My heart alone cannot divine
The truth of my longing mind.
Her eyes glowed with hope and happiness as she cast the petal into the air where a sudden gust of wind caught it. She watched as it swirled and whirled on the current of air, soon drifting from her sight. She sighed and tugged another petal from the daisy. Then casting it upon the wind, she continued her song.
He loves me ….
He loves me not ….
Please tell me what I need to know ….
Forever shall I wonder
Oh! Petals tell me true.
She freed another petal from the flower. Christine stood, closed her eyes and began to sway in time to the rhythm of her song.
He loves me ….
He loves me not ….
Please tell me what I need to know ….
I only know that when he's near
My thoughts become clear.
She cast another petal onto the wind and her swaying became gliding steps of dance, her voice rising as her song became more certain.
He loves me ….
He loves me not ….
Please tell me what I need to know ….
The restless fluttering of my heart
Is stilled by his kiss.
With her head thrown back and her arms outstretched, Christine whirled about in a joyous imitation of the petals fluttering about her on the wind. Her song rising to a crescendo.
He loves me ….
He loves me not ….
Will you tell me the truth I know
In the depths of my longing heart?
Oh, petals tell me true …."
"A Maiden's Lament"
From – "A Fool's Book of Wisdom"
A tinkling peal of laughter escaped her lips and a blush swept from her cheeks, down her neck and ended at the soft rise of her heaving breasts. She sought to slow her breath, then glancing at the ravaged blossom in her hand; she waltzed to the well and cast it into its depths.
"I do not suppose I really need to ask a daisy how Erik feels. I know he truly loves me." She murmured.
A rich baritone voice spoke into her ear, causing her to jump.
"And, ma chéri, you are quite correct. I do love you."
She giggled and spun about. Her delighted smile turned into a frown as she saw no one behind her.
"Where are you?" She called uncertainly. "Erik, come out! I do not find this amusing in the slightest!"
She stamped her foot on the ground and glared as drops of mud spattered her worn shoe.
"Merde! Look what you made me do! Erik? Erik!"
Her demanding voice cut off and a shriek took its place as the young woman found herself swept up into a pair of strong arms. Her tiny fists beat upon the warm, hard surface of masculine chest covered only by a thin muslin shirt against which she suddenly found herself pressed.
"Monsieur Erik de Seul! You must put me down at once or … or … or, oh! Erik, put me down now! I swear! Honestly, whenever you are near me, I cannot string together a coherent thought and being in your arms … well, I am very near surrender, mon amour. Do not say that I did not give you fair warning." Her eyes grew grave. "Really, Erik, you need to put me down right now, please?"
"Very well." He sighed. "You know that I can deny you nothing."
They both sighed as he gently stood her back down upon her own feet. He stood for a moment, his body pressed against hers just long enough to make sure that she had her balance and then he moved back a few steps.
"My apologies, ma chéri. I could not help myself. I went out for a walk in the woods and suddenly, I heard the voice of an angel singing. The next thing I knew I was here and discovered that what I once thought an angel was in truth, you. I know that you said you intended to go to the Opera Populaire and audition for a position with the chorus, but … mon Dieu! What a waste of a precious instrument if you were to do that. Right now, your voice is so sweet and pure you could audition for secondary leads and with a little training, you could become the lead soprano."
She looked into his earnest eyes and all doubt fled her mind.
"A little training?" She stammered.
A broad smile graced his lips and he bowed.
"Mademoiselle Daae! I would like to offer myself to you …." He paused, allowing his eyes to run up and down over her body, before he grinned and met her eyes once more. "I would like to offer myself to you as your maestro. Please, allow me the pleasure of molding your voice into the perfect instrument I know it is capable of becoming. Please, Christine?"