The downy flakes fell lightly from the sky, dusting her crown of glorious mahogany curls. How she had found herself in these woods, she did not know, though she thought she knew them. The only sound was the easy sweep of wind around them, lending an air of calmness to the place. Though it still throbbed from a mysterious source, she turned her neck to look at the man who rode behind her on the horse. She believed the pain and her reason for being here were connected, though she had yet to figure all he pieces out.

He had been the last person she expected to see, but he was most welcome, swinging her up from where she stood onto the pale horse to ride side saddle before him. He held her tightly and she felt no shame. "Where are we going Erik?"

He smiled enigmatically. "That you must wait to see, it's a surprise. I promise you will like it though."

"Are you sure I will?"

"Is Erik ever unsure?" She felt slightly chastised by his remark and lowered her eyes from to watch before her as the woods filled up with snow. It had been a scant few flakes when they started their journey, now it had grown into to what seemed an impassable blizzard. The pain in her neck grew worse, seeming to engulf her entire body in the torture. Her breath came in swallow gasps, her body became as frozen as the ice around her.

"I'm so confused Erik? Where are we going? Why do I hurt? Why was I not allowed to say good bye to Raoul, or Meg, or anybody?"

Gently his gloved hand tilted her face toward him and delicately he brushed his lips against hers. "I'm sorry cher, but these are questions which you must wait for the answers to. Know that the pain will pass though." He pulled her tighter to him and kissed the crown of her head. "I am with you, just remember that, and so do not fear."

She bit her lip as the pain seemed to increase ten fold, every fiber of her being burned, she could no longer breathe. From far away she heard Erik singing, at first it sounded like a lullaby, and then it changed, metamorphosing into something else, more like the Dies Irae than anything.

Then it seemed she breathed no more, yet she could breathe freely at last, and the pain was felt no more. She tried to tell Erik, but her voice was stolen by the light that engulfed the forest, as a glorious sun had risen, just as the forest cleared around them and the snows ceased.

Before them loomed two gates of gold, the house beyond them was indiscernible in glorious light. A lonely caretaker came forward to open the gates for the pair. She felt tears in her eyes as the man excitedly turned as waved to her, smiling. "Papa…where are we Erik?"

"We are home angel."

Paris, that very moment:

The doctor pulled the white sheet over the young Comtesse's face, she had been fading fast when he arrived and he had held little hope she would survive. He staggered to the door, his face as bloodless as though he were the one who had plummeted down the manor's grand staircase. "I am sorry Monsieur De Chagny, she is gone."