Le Fantôme et L'ange
Chapter 13
An Exchange
The door of the de Chagny home was a sizable one, pressing back against Christine's knuckles as she knocked against the wooden surface. She waited some time before attempting to announce herself again, praying that it would not be Philippe who answered her call. As the door opened, there were a pair of eyes peaking out from behind the frame, then a sigh of relief. She was greeted by Raoul with a gauche smile, trying to conceal his delight in seeing her with his concern for why she had come.
"Is this a bad time?" Christine asked.
"No, not at all," Raoul assured. "Here, let us step outside."
Raoul gestured for Christine to step aside, urging her toward the side of their cottage. It was obvious that he was trying to keep her away from the possibility of being confronted by Philippe, which she was grateful for. Raoul led them down toward the stables that lined the upper edge of a lovely squash garden. It wouldn't be long until the large gourds would be hanging off of their vines and ready for the next la Toussaint come autumn.
They stopped outside of an empty stall, which Raoul had motioned for Christine to enter. Christine looked inside and then looked to Raoul, afraid at where the conversation might turn in such private quarters. She waved her hand and shook her head, wanting to get directly to the point of her council.
"Raoul, we cannot get married," she said hurriedly.
"I—"
"I am sorry if that hurts you, but you and I both know it would be unwise," Christine continued, turning to pace back and forth.
"Of course," Raoul said, trying to keep up with Christine's hurried words.
"That does not mean that I do not value our friendship, or that I find you unfit in any way, but because of your place in Perros, and my trying to reestablish myself here—"
"Christine," Raoul called, grabbing a hold of her hands and turning her to face him.
Christine fell silent, feeling herself become emotional over her speech. The truth was, she actually did have feelings for Raoul she'd rather be confessing, but she knew she could not let them materialize. She certainly was not ready for marriage. Not this soon and certainly not after Philippe's warning. Blushing, she tried to catch her breath as Raoul held onto her hands tightly.
"Forgive me," she breathed.
"Christine, I have no intention of asking you to marry me," Raoul said firmly.
"No?" Christine asked.
"Certainly not," Raoul confirmed.
"But then, why—?"
"I can tell you that I have always admired you, and that I do favor you," Raoul said boldly. "And perhaps someday, I will look toward marriage, but that day is not here yet."
Christine sighed.
"I was under the impression that you were prepared to elope," Christine said.
"That is an odd rumor indeed," Raoul said.
"Yes," Christine confirmed with an ironic laugh. "It is one that your brother told me."
"Philippe told you that?" Raoul asked.
"Why, yes," Christine said. "He said I must stop leading you on or else I would break your heart."
Raoul laughed and shook his head with a furrowed brow.
"I thought it was ridiculous myself," Christine said. "He also suggested that I leave Perros."
Immediately, Raoul became very somber, lowering his eyes to the ground. Christine did not laugh either. They both took a quiet moment to themselves to let the seriousness of their conversation take hold.
"My brother did not ask you to leave Perros because of me," Raoul said slowly.
"Then why would he suggest such a thing?" Christine asked.
"Because he is afraid," Raoul said in misery.
"Afraid of me?" Christine asked.
"Amongst many things," Raoul said soberly.
Christine shook her head, confused with the new direction which the conversation had taken. Motioning toward the stall beside them, Christine beckoned Raoul inside. Now that she knew there was no risk of him proposing to her, she knew this was turning into a conversation that they would not like to be overheard. Raoul followed behind her, rubbing the back of his beck while trying to gather his thoughts.
"I wanted to tell you all of this as soon as I learned," Raoul lamented. "But when I went to your home and your father said you were missing—"
"I am truly sorry for that," Christine said. "And I want to tell you—"
She had intended to tell Raoul everything she had experienced while she was in the woods. It was her reason for being so insistent on making the trip to his home. Only Raoul would be able to speak with her about how she was able to not only speak with a fantôme, but to even grasp emotion from it. She had little chance to continue, for Raoul's hand raised into the air and his eyes turned cloudy. Distress was written across his face.
"What is the matter?" she asked.
"My brother held council with the woman who knew of the spirits," Raoul said slowly.
"And what light did she shed on the matter?" Christine asked slowly.
"Oh, Christine," Raoul said, shaking his head sadly. "There is no light to shine at all."
Christine grabbed onto Raoul's hand and pulled him down to the ground to sit. She could see his features had paled considerably with just the thought of saying what was on his mind. He dropped down to his knees, then crossed his legs in front of him while he kept Christine's hand in his. He looked down onto them before catching Christine's concerned eye.
"The spirits of Perros are not just wandering souls of the afterlife. They are the spirits of all we have ever known and loved."
"But… I do not understand—"
"Everybody who has ever been born here —or who ever will be born here— will become a spirit to this earth after their death. All who perish from Perros are doomed to forever haunt this land. We are on cursed ground."
"Cursed?" Christine asked, appalled.
"Yes; by a sorceress," Raoul confirmed.
"Oh, Raoul," Christine sighed.
"A sorceress came through Perros, hoping to continue her practice in light magic. I am not sure how familiar you are with magic and spells, Christine, but here in Trégor, there are a considerable amount of people who are keen on the craft."
"We had a few outside of Knivsta who knew a spell or two," Christine said. "But we never saw dark magic used."
"After leaving Perros, she became known in her time for her sorcery."
"Is there no way to lift this curse?" Christine begged, hoping Raoul would have an answer.
"All the woman said was some verse about a heart of pure kindness, but there was no other offer of information," Raoul said. "It seems to be lost in the years past."
"And so all of the fantômes surrounding Perros…"
"Are the souls of those who have died since this curse," Raoul said, completing Christine's thoughts.
"My goodness," Christine breathed.
"That is why Philippe is concerned with you being here," Raoul said. "Your encounter had been mentioned as a potential aid, but the old woman said it was best you were removed from the situation."
"Removed?" Christine asked. "Well, Philippe certainly made it clear he did not wish for us to stay."
"And now you know why," said Raoul.
Christine allowed herself now to understand that this very well was the root of Philippe's animosity toward her from the beginning. It put her at ease knowing it was nothing she had directly done, but instead was her singular presence which set an odd tone to their meeting. Charles was at least familiar by lineage, while Christine even resembled an outsider who could never fully understand Perros. The land and its people may have been standoffish by first appearance, but now Christine could see the bitterness within them all.
"Why would anybody place such a terrible curse?" Christine asked.
"The woman responsible, Nohra was her name, had a poor experience with those who lived here. After receiving ill reception here in Perros, she used her powers for evil against the people and all generations to come."
"Then all who live here are to face this fate?" Christine asked.
"Only those of Perros born," Raoul said grimly.
"And that means that Papa…—?"
"Surely will face the same fate as us all," Raoul said. "Except for you."
How funny fate seemed to be, allowing Christine the chance to die in peace rather than suffer the consequences of upbringing. Only Christine alone —the foreigner of the town— was void from the sorrows ahead for everybody else. Every neighbor she met, every friend that she would make would be lost in memory to the spirits surrounding her while she could only stand back and watch. No, her start was not the easiest, but Christine felt such sorrow knowing there was no hope for redemption.
"I cannot think of anything to say," Christine said miserably.
"Philippe so longed for his answers," Raoul said distantly.
"And now he has them," Christine said.
Silence fell between the two. Knowledge had once again weighed on the heart of Christine while she watched her only friend try to remain gallant. When once, it seemed Raoul and Christine had copious differences between their beliefs of the world around them, they were now blending together. The afterlife with the Maker was real for them both, but was only obtainable for one. The spirits were once only known by Raoul, the native to this mysterious village, but now they were understood by both.
Christine turned her thoughts back to her encounters with the spirits of this place. The first with a korrigan, a mysterious siren which had no link to the living at all, except for her longing to trap them within their song. Korrigans were more like nymphs than like spirits. The second was the ghoul, who was sent from Fanden— the devil himself— to steal Christine's heart. And then there was the fantôme… Before Perros, Christine had no knowledge of spiritual beings who wandered the earth without purpose. They were either meant to tempt you toward or save you from Fanden. It was the most difficult for Christine to understand the fear of the fantômes, but now it all made sense. They had no unfinished business or no quests from the devil. They had done no wrong in their lifetime, but merely hoped to be sent to the Maker. And now her understanding became even more grim.
"Raoul, I have seen a fantôme," Christine said boldly.
A new seriousness took hold of them both, pulling their breaths to become shallow in their chests. Raoul looked toward his companion, his eyes nearly lifeless like the souls surrounding the village. Christine couldn't help but tear up, remembering the hollow and the eyes of her fantôme staring down on her.
Raoul felt a heaviness grasp his heart, more threatening than his fear for Christine. It was as if another being was maintaining his very spirit, waiting for his next move. He heard a voice in the back of his head whisper for him to learn more.
Ask her how.
"Was this in your journey to the forest?" Raoul asked.
Christine nodded her head.
"Why did you go into the woods, Christine?"
"I felt that I had to know what I was being linked to," Christine said quietly. "I heard the warnings and I knew the risks, but with all of the words spreading about me, I needed to know what the spirits were."
"The lore was not enough for your knowledge?" Raoul asked.
"The lore has just proven to not be accurate," Christine said. "What has it done to help Perros?"
Raoul turned his head away, stung by Christine's remark. For so long now, the legends of the land held such authenticity of what Perros was. With this new information, even Raoul knew that everything was now changed.
"Well," Raoul said softly. "We both have our stories, then."
"I needed to find out more, Raoul," Christine said. "And now everything makes more sense."
"Does it?" Raoul asked wearily.
"When I came across the fantôme, I did not understand how a soul as kind as his could be damned to forever walk this earth. He could not have been so terrible during his life to earn such a fate. The curse on Perros explains why he became the spirit he is."
More. I need to know more! Raoul's mind began to ache. He didn't feel like himself anymore.
"You could speak to this fantôme?" Raoul questioned.
"Yes," Christine said simply.
"And he was kind to you?" he pressed, finding this talk absurd.
"Very kind. I felt completely comfortable within his care."
Raoul stirred in his seat on the ground, feeling quite uncomfortable with what Christine was telling him and how cool she sounded. Her eyes seemed almost distant as she recalled her nights in the woods, dazzled by an extraordinary journey which only she could relay. It seemed Philippe was somewhat correct in his belief that Christine had a gift in communication with the spirits. Nobody else had ever been known to speak to a fantôme, let alone assess their attitude.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Raoul asked.
"I am not sure anymore," Christine said sadly.
"You cannot mean you plan to go back?"
Do not let her go back into that wood!
"I had no intention to go back," Christine said. "But as these past few days have gone by, I have felt more distressed that I have made a mistake. With this new knowledge, I am not sure what to think."
"How could returning home have been a mistake?" Raoul asked, his voice hinted of nervousness.
Christine clasped her hands together, pulling them in front of her lips. This conversation had come on so quickly and very different from how she original visioned it. Suddenly, she was swept into the topic and feeling such sorrow for having let the fantôme down.
"He was quite receptive, despite my misplacement," Christine said, easing her way in.
"What did it look like?" Raoul asked.
It sounded as if the question had been tugging at his tongue, for it must have had him curious to think what form he would someday inhabit after he died.
"I do not fully know," Christine admitted. "I know that his skin was a dark ashen grey, and somewhat transparent. He was quite tall and thin, despite being fully cloaked beneath animal pelts and a mask…"
"A mask?" Raoul questioned, his eyes growing wide with disbelief. "I did not expect a fantôme of the forest to be so finely dressed."
"Nor did I," Christine said simply, unaware of the mocking tone in Raoul's voice. "But his eyes were a golden amber. Quite different from anything I have ever seen before."
"Pray, what purpose did this attire hold?" Raoul asked.
"I can only assume to conceal his macabre form," Christine shrugged. "He did not want for me to be afraid."
"Certainly," Raoul said dubiously.
"But Raoul, I cannot tell you the impact that he had one me," Christine said, reaching her hands out to hold on to his. "Imagine, the loneliest of souls trying to reach out to you for any contact. Also, imagine if you can, the coldest of nights holding onto you, like it was trying to keep you warm. Now, imagine the relief that a mother would feel after being reunited with a lost child; that was how it felt when he took my hand and sang to me—"
"He sang to you?"
She is crazed…
"We connected through music, because it seemed the only thing we truly had in common, yet the only thing that mattered. My love for song was what brought him to find me to start this whole journey, yet it was his music that kept me longer. He pleaded with me as I turned to leave him, yet he could do nothing because his eyes were hidden by the sunlight."
"I am afraid I do not fully understand," Raoul said, shaking her hands to regain her attention on him. "You make it sound more like a dream than reality."
"Part of him was a dream. It started in my sleep, with a voice and a figure calling to me before I made my journey. As I walked out into the darkness of the forest, I joined the voice and found the only form it could take on. He inspired me through the music I heard, and for that, I know love in a different form."
"You are making this fantôme a living man, Christine."
"Perhaps," Christine said distantly.
She is dangerous. Your brother was correct; she must be deposed of.
No, she did not ask for this…
Raoul wished to follow her gaze to see where it would lead, but he knew it was a dangerous route. The impact the fantôme had on her was clearly still affecting her, yet there was nothing that could be done about his fate, nor Raoul's. Christine was free from this tragedy, yet why was she so inclined to put herself into the center of it?
"Christine, do you think there was a reason that you were able to see this fantôme?"
"I am not sure," she said. "Nothing makes sense anymore."
"I mean to say, that perhaps this fantôme of yours would know something of the heart of pure kindness which was mentioned in the curse's prophesy," Raoul said.
"He knew nothing of his past life," Christine said. "But I cannot help but feel that his heart, if it were still intact, would be the purest there was."
Raoul winced hearing Christine's response, yet knew somehow that she was right. With all of the stories of the lore, none had mentioned any fantôme to be so accepting to human contact, let alone so benevolent toward it. There seemed something special about this fellowship between Christine and her fantôme companion.
With the pang of jealousy pressing against Raoul's heart, he swore he could hear the voice inside of him telling him to abandon her. It was a cloying tone that seemed very much like a mistress of evil deploying his heart elsewhere. It was louder and more forceful that his doubt had been up to this point.
Leave her, it said again. Let her have her fantôme.
Raoul pushed the strange voice away, wanting nothing more than to recover his friend from her clearly traumatic spell.
"Would you be willing to question this fantôme on the matter?" Raoul asked boldly, despite a sickening turn in his stomach. His conflicting emotions were beginning to get the best of him.
"I do not know, Raoul. I vowed I would not return to the forest in fear that I would be swallowed back to never return."
Let her stray to the wood. She longs for her masked lover.
Raoul shut his eyes tight. He was feeling lightheaded.
"Do you truly fear that he has that power over you?" Raoul asked, afraid for Christine in spite of his internal monolog.
"Not that he has power over me, but that I do not have control over my own emotion," Christine replied. "The sadness he holds is immense, I fear he could keep me within his desolation forever."
"Then I shall go with you," Raoul said as if stating an oath.
"Go out into the woods?" Christine questioned.
Leave her to her own demise. After all, she is the lucky one…
"I will not let you go alone," Raoul said, convincing himself more than Christine. "I will protect you."
Christine hoped to conceal the tear falling down her cheek. She was so grateful for Raoul's courage and solace for her, that she wrapped her arms around his neck for an embrace. Raoul slowly wrapped his arms around her back, questioning what he planned to achieve while in the midst of the spirits' realm. What was this side of him suddenly speaking up on his behalf and was it showing the darkest depths of his mind?
Christine kissed Raoul on the cheek, helping him back up onto his feet from their spot on the stable floor.
"Thank you for understanding," she said, letting her hand linger in his for a long moment.
She is teasing you. Her love is only for the ffantôme! She said herself; there shall never be anything between you. You can still get yourself out of this deal.
"We must depart tonight," Raoul said without any more thought.
"Tonight?" Christine questioned.
"I would like to gather this information and return home as soon as possible," he said.
"Very well," Christine said, taken back by Raoul's haste. "Collect what you need and I shall do the same. Meet me outside of my cottage at dark?"
"I shall," Raoul said.
Christine came back in for another embrace, then pulled her arms out to Raoul's length.
"A lantern will not be necessary," she said. "The dark will allow us to find the fantôme."
With that, she was running out of the stables, heading north at a determined pace.
Was she excited for the chance to save the people of Perros from this curse, or to be back in the presence of her fantôme? Raoul had little to query until his unwarranted demons had surfaced. Now, with this voice taking over his mind, he felt a sickening hatred for the strange girl from Knivsta.
As Raoul left the stables, he failed to notice the figure of a beautiful woman stalking silently behind him. She had hair that laid flat against her back, straight as the vines of a willow tree. Beneath the heavy frame of hair were eyes green as moss. Her earthy tones and slender frame made her a beautiful sight, yet she wished not to be seen by the young boy. Not yet. In the moment, she had only hoped to have been heard by him.
As his figure disappeared toward the cottage, she whispered a handful of words into her palm, cupping them gently and then blowing their unseen vocals toward the boy.
You know this is a terrible mistake…
She knew the message was delivered the moment she heard a groan of exasperation and the slam of a door. Whether or not the message was accepted or not was unimportant. Nohra had new business to attend to now.
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