Hello friends! I have received so many kind reviews for this story and I just wanted to take the time to tell you how much I appreciate each and every one of them! Again, apologies for the delay. Here is the next chapter! Hope you enjoy it!

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.

Meg

As soon as le Vicomte had left me I began to weep. The enormity of what I had done dawned on me; enveloping me like darkness and suffocating me as I stood at the end of the grand foyer with my head in my hands. Raoul had left to seek assistance. Soon he would return, and soon he would be on his way to destroy Christine's life and her chance at happiness. Regardless of what became of tonight, Christine would never forgive me. Regret flooded me as I stared at the entrance beside me, the place where I had seen Christine enter mere nights ago. What had I done? Christine had been my dearest friend for many years and out of childish jealousy I had threatened to rid her life of the happiness she deserved. Yes, she had known the success that I had always wanted but was she not talented? Did she not deserve it? Had she not worked for it? A true friend would be happy at Christine's success and would embrace it. And I was. And what of him? The man who had given her this success and given her this happiness? Who she chose to spend her time with was not my concern. She loved him!

Suddenly my mind was clear, I knew what I needed to do. I needed to right this wrong, I just hoped that it wasn't too late.

"Mother!" I cried as I approached her in the corridor near the sleeping quarters. "I need to speak with you!"

"Meg, my dear I was just heading downstairs for some dinner for the both of us. Where have you been?"

"Never mind that! I need to tell you something!"

Mother stared at me for a few disconcerting moments before quickly nodding and guiding me to another, less travelled corridor closer to the chapel.

"What is it Meg?"

As soon as she asked I covered my mouth with my hands and began to unabashedly weep.

"What is it?" She repeated, concern tainting the tone of her voice.

"I h-have done something t-terrible, mother." I wept. What would she think? Was a mother even capable of expecting something so wicked of her daughter? She took me by the shoulders and asked again.

"What is it?"

"You have to go." I wept. "Y-you have to go to them."

"What? Who?"

"Christine and… and him!"

"Him?" She cleared her throat. "Meg I don't know who…"

"I know who he is!" I cried, frustrated. "I know of Christine's... relationship with him. You just... you must go to them!"

"…Why…" She eyed me cautiously. Perhaps she wasn't aware that I knew of the goings on of late. Likely not. It was She, Christine and him. I was not kept informed of anything. I never had been. Like a child. That was partly why I did it…

"Raoul knows." I replied, my voice low. "He knows where they are and… and h-he knows how to get there."

She released me and took a step back.

"Meg, what have you done?"

"I am sorry." Again, my tears began to flood my eyes. I looked down, unable to meet her gaze. "Mother, I am sorry. I know what I have done. I know." I glanced up. "You have to warn them. There is still time."

She looked at me then, wearing an expression I had never seen before. She was utterly disappointed in me, I could see that, but she looked at me as if I were a stranger… Perhaps I had acted as one.

"She… she said they were going to leave." She muttered.

"What?"

"Meg, why would you do this?"

"Raoul, he… he threatened me…"

She stared at me still.

"It does not matter. Go. Just go, mother. Please. You must fix what I have done. You must go now!"

She stared at me for a second longer before easing past me and striding down the corridor with purpose in her step.

Christine

My father. Madame Giry had known something about my father and had neglected to tell me. I was not upset. There was no time nor room to be upset when all I felt was overcome with excitement. My father had been the missing piece to the puzzle; all that was missing inside of me. Admittedly, Erik had filled that void and now that we had grown so close he had become much more than that, but I still missed my father. As I began my ascent, my mind began to swim with questions, with possibilities!

Surely he was alive? The letter had only been dated several months ago. Of course someone else could have written it for him, but what would that have been in aid of? He would not willingly deceive me, would not willingly lead me to believe something that was not truth. It had been his handwriting, although, how much of his written hand did I actually remember? How much of him would I have remembered if not for the small image of him in the chapel?

I was about to leave, about to begin my life with Erik, but what could this letter mean? What if Madame Giry did not have the answers I was seeking? I would be worse off than I was before the letter; at least then I had accepted him to be gone. I had said my goodbyes at the cemetery, or at least attempted to… I only hoped that I would find Madame Giry and the answers I needed without incident, and I hoped that Erik was alright back in his home.

I did not wish to leave him, did not wish to seek out the surface again given the danger that seemed to be increasing with each passing day, but this was my father and I had to go through with it. I knew that Erik understood that

When I reached Madame Giry's sleeping quarters I did not find what I expected to. Instead of my adoptive mother sitting on her divan, plaiting her hair as she often did, I found her daughter, Meg. She was curled up on the divan, weeping into her mother's cushions. Meg and I had not left things on good terms. When last we spoke we had found ourselves in an argument, therefore I was not quite sure how to approach her.

I knocked on the door tentatively.

She looked up, haphazardly wiping her eyes as she did so.

"Christine…" She spoke softly.

"Meg. What is wrong?"

"What are you doing here?" She asked. "Where is… Erik?"

She still struggled calling him by his name. It angered me.

"He is… in his home of course, I have… wait…" I stopped and studied her face briefly. "...Why are you asking me that?"

"Oh, Christine…" She began to weep again. "I am so sorry. I- I have done a terrible thing…"

"What have you done Meg?" I asked, slightly alarmed. She had done something to endanger Erik, I knew it before she had even spoken. I approached her, repeating what I had said. It came out as a demand, which was exactly what I'd intended. "What have you done?"

"You need to return to him, Christine…" She wept.

"Meg!" I took her by the shoulders. "Tell me what you have done!"

Meg looked up at me. She looked defeated. I had never seen her so distraught and yet I found that all I could focus on was what her answer would be. I knew what she had done. I knew it. She had betrayed me… but I needed to hear her say it.

"Tell me!" I demanded.

"Raoul…" She cried, holding my shoulders in return. She could barely control her sobs. "He knows. He knows, Christine."

Without speaking I released her and exited the room.

"I am sorry, Christine..." I heard her cry as I continued down the corridor.

I had to get to Erik before it was too late.

Erik

It was difficult to dress when my wound was screaming at every movement, but I had to ignore those protestations. I could not allow Christine to ascend without me, and even though the thought of her anger at what I was doing filled me with unease, I had to do it. Once, I told her that I would always be watching over her and Angel or not, I intended to stick to that declaration. I eased on a dress shirt and without bothering to tuck it in I slipped on one of my fine jackets that had been draped over a chair. I lifted up my shirt to look at my bandages and thick relief washed over me as I saw that nothing I had done had aggravated the injury too much; the stitches were intact.

Hastily I affixed my mask and wig, picked up my sword and left my home. I couldn't use my boat in the condition I was in, so I was forced to take one of the other passages leading in the same direction. Holding my wound with one hand and my sword in the other, I began toward the surface, only stopping to rest once I found myself at the very top of the spiral staircase.

I stood with my back to the wall and leaned against it, closing my eyes. Why hadn't I thought up an easier way? Of course, stairs were never usually a problem but when I found myself in situations such as this, which was fairly often, they proved tiresome. I found myself exhausted and in something close to agony. I was well acquainted with pain but one never really grows accustomed to it. I was sweating profusely, strange given that it was January.

I was beginning to doubt whether or not I actually possessed the strength required to finish the journey, when a loud and vexatious presence made itself known to me.

"There you are." Le Vicomte spoke. I looked up at him from where I stood, panting, leaning against the moist stone of the cavern. "Leaving so soon?"

Seeing him was always going to be a possibility. I knew that. He had been searching for me for weeks and I had no doubts that coming so close to ridding the world of me and failing had only fuelled his motivation. I only hoped that he had not come across Christine. Surely she had not been that far ahead of me?

"Monsieur." I began, standing straighter. I looked behind him to see that accompanying him was a member of the gendarmerie; an officer of the law. He was young, slender, and he looked quite terrified but it would complicate things nonetheless. "I was wondering when I might see you." I said, looking back at the boy. "Come to finish the job?"

"Precisely." He nodded before curling his lips into a sickly smile. "How is that wound of yours? Painful, I would wager."

"It should be worse, shouldn't it? I should be dead, shouldn't I?" I asked smugly. "It is a shame about your aim. Have you ever stabbed a man before? I would say not given the clumsiness of this." I gestured to where my hand lay on my stomach. "Vicomte… have you killed a man?" I challenged.

"No." He retorted with a smug smile that mirrored my own. "But you have."

I glared at him then, challenging him, my gaze was set unwavering upon his. Yes, I had. I had killed and he knew it. He knew it and he could see it in my menacing glare as he stood across from me. He had meant it as an insult, but it had only added to my arsenal, it only served to add to the power I exuded, the control I had over him, even standing there in my weakened state. I could have sworn that I saw him flinch after a few moments and so, satisfied, I continued.

"Well, I have somewhere to be…" I began, standing up fully, resisting the urge of bringing my hand to my wound as I did so. I hoped it wasn't bleeding from the exertion. I didn't want to give the boy the satisfaction of seeing it. "…So please tell me… Exactly how do you see this playing out, boy?" I spat.

"Isn't it obvious?" He replied after a dry chuckle.

"Apparently not." I gave the boy a smirk, actively aggravating him. "Please." I waved my hand in a formal gesture. "Indulge me."

"You will be arrested and hanged for your crimes."

The officer behind him shifted awkwardly.

"Ah." I smiled. "And in doing this, you will achieve… what? Christine's affections?"

"It is not about what I will achieve or gain from her. I am not selfish, as you are."

"No?"

"No! All I want is what is best for her, and that is to keep her away from you."

"You would sooner see me arrested than see her content." I scoffed. "And you claim to love her."

"I do love her! And she would love me in return if it were not for you!"

"You cannot love her! It is clear in every action you take, every word you say! You cannot see past your own selfish pride! Love is selfless! Love is caring for another's safety above your own!" I took a breath; my wound was aching from the exertion.

"And who are you to lecture me on such a thing? Yes, I know of your past." He let out another dry snicker. "Your own mother could not love you, and yet you assume that of Christine?"

I clenched my fists, tightening the grip on my sword. Then I spoke, my voice low.

"Do not speak of things you know nothing about, or you may find yourself unable to speak."

"Is that a threat?"

"It is a promise."

Raoul's eyes narrowed before he turned slightly to the young officer behind him and spoke.

"Arrest him."

The officer jumped, apparently not yet prepared to be spoken to or involved in what was happening.

"This is your grand plan?" I asked. "You want him to arrest me? Me?"

"There is only one way out of this." Was his reply.

"Yes." I nodded, looking down. Yes, there was. I could see that the only thing standing between Christine and the safety and peace of mind she wanted, was the man before me, and the one he had brought for assistance. I didn't want to kill them, but I needed to get to Christine before they did…

"Where were you headed? If you don't mind my asking." Le Vicomte asked cynically.

I narrowed my eyes.

"To Christine?" He asked. "Well, perhaps after this we should all pay her a visit. I shall show her my prize."

"Your pride will be your undoing, boy."

"As will yours."

I stared at him then, in partial agreement for once. We were both proud men, we had that much in common. But I would not allow my pride to hinder Christine, she was too important to me.

"You will not go near her again, Ghost. Officer, arrest him!" Raoul repeated. He turned to the young officer who jumped again before slowly walking forward.

"Yes, Officer. Arrest me." I mocked, removing my sword from my belt and holding it beside me. One hand still covered my wound. At this the Inspector raised his pistol and continued to inch toward me.

"Be careful." Raoul warned as the small man approached me.

"You should take heed of le Vicomte's words. For once, he is talking sense."

The young man began to speak.

"You… you are under arrest…" He stammered. "F-for… for suspicion of murder."

"That is a strong claim to make." I spoke. "On what evidence are you making this charge?" It was cruel to toy with him as such. He was only a boy and he was only following orders. Once, I had done the same…

And look at me now…

As soon as the Officer was within my reach it was easy enough to flick the pistol out of his hand with the end of my sword. It fell into the black abyss formed by the spiral staircase beside me. At that, he drew his own sword and held it out before him. I watched as the Officer fumbled at his belt for a few moments before drawing his own sword and holding it out before him.

"Monsieur." I addressed the young man before me. "It is not my aim to hurt you, but believe me when I say that if you advance, you are not giving me any choice. Put down your sword and leave."

"Y-You are under arrest… you…"

"Use your head." I warned.

"I- I cannot leave. I have come to arrest you and…"

"Advance!" Raoul barked. "Arrest him!"

At once the man before me lunged at me, I blocked his attack and moved to the side.

"Very well." I said, slightly out of breath at the pain the movement had caused.

"Get out of the way!" Raoul ordered, pushing the young Officer to the side and bringing his sword down toward my head. With a grimace I parried and stepped to the side, away from the cascading stairs threatening to swallow us all whole. Again, Raoul lunged at me. I deflected his blow and struck his arm. He yelled and fell backward slightly. He brought his hand to his forearm and was enraged to find blood as he looked at his hand.

I was panting heavily. I was not unfit, but I was lacking energy, and pain every time I moved.

Upon recovery, Raoul pointed to me and smirked.

"It seems I did not even have to touch you!"

I looked down to see what he was referring to. My shirt was beginning to spot with blood. The stitches were breaking. Christine would not be happy.

"That does fill me with satisfaction." Raoul added.

"I'm glad." I spat.

He came at me again. I blocked several more of his attacks, barely possessing the strength to counter when he brought his sword down on top of me. My sword interlocked with his as I struggled to keep it from coming down upon my head. Normally, I would be much stronger than this man, but not now. We struggled for a few more moments before my wound screamed, forcing me to let go. I fell to my knees as the pain of Raoul's fist almost made me sick where I knelt. I clutched my hand to my stomach, the other still feebly holding onto my sword. I was now bleeding profusely from my wound.

"You are done. Submit to arrest." I heard a voice say. "Or perhaps I should just finish the job."

Without looking up I brought my sword across the side of his leg, immediately spilling blood. Raoul yelled and fell backward, holding his shin and cursing me. I rose up and stumbled back over to the wall that had given me the same support earlier.

Driven only by anger, Raoul rose as well, charging toward me with his sword held above his head. Again, I blocked the attack but again our swords were locked. This time I was weaker than before and slowly but surely, the sword was coming down…

"Arrest him!" Raoul yelled to the Officer who I had forgotten was present. "Help me!"

Shakily, the man approached, lunging at me. In my position, all I was able to do was lean to the side, and hope that his blade missed. It did not. While he did not land his attempted blow, I felt his blade slice my side, similar to where Buquet's had that fateful evening…

I yelled and with my remaining strength, I pushed Raoul's sword backward and clumsily throwing my blade in the direction of the young Officer. Before I could comprehend what was happening I felt a strong force push me backward, causing me to stumble and fall down two of the stairs beside me. It took everything I had to stop myself at two. In my state I was able to cling to the damp stone beneath me, effectively grazing my hands as I fell. I could not breathe. The pain was making me slightly delirious. Shakily, I pushed myself up so that I was half lying on the stairs beneath me. I coughed deeply as I looked down at my shirt, now hardly white at all.

"You are done." Raoul began as he limped toward me. I clutched at my wound, attempting to stem the blood flow and the pain.

Raoul picked up his sword, changing his grip on it as he stood over me, ready to deliver the killing blow. I took a pained breath, knowing that I was all but out of tricks. If he wanted to drive his blade into my heart I could not stop him. I thought of Christine, of the life we could have lived. I looked up at the man before me, his blade poised above my chest. I closed my eyes.

But then…

"Erik!" I turned to my side to see a familiar face. It was Madame Giry.

"Madame?" Raoul questioned, turning to her. "What are you doing here? Oh... you come to warn him?" He sneered. "Meg must have told you. Not very good at keeping secrets, is she? Truth be told, I did not think that she would keep her word to me. But that does not matter now. Her purpose has almost been entirely served."

"What have you done?" She asked, her hands clasped to her mouth. "Monsieur, I… I beg you to consider your actions."

"Why? So that he may live? Live, and steal Christine away from me? Away from us all? No! She deserves better than this!" He gestured to me before raising his sword higher.

"Monsieur, wait!" Madame Giry reasoned. I looked back at her. "You would not taint your good name with something like this, would you? Leave it to the court to decide his fate…"

"I cannot. I cannot chance it."

"He deserves a trial!"

"He deserves nothing!"

I knew what she was doing; She had no intention of turning me over to the authorities. She was attempting to talk him down, talk some sense into him. Weeks ago I would have had faith in her plan, but Raoul had changed. His mind had been warped by jealousy just as mine would have been had things gone differently. For that, I did not blame him. For the white-hot pain I was suffering with every breath, I was.

"Monsieur, it is the right thing to do. A man is nothing without his scruples. I know that you are a good man. I know it."

Raoul took a deep breath.

"I care not for your words, reasonable as they may be. I will bring this man to justice… but you are correct about one thing. I will need my good name for it and I will need it for Christine. To give her the life she deserves." He looked down at me then, scowling. "I will come back for you." He said.

I heard Madame Giry scream and before I could look at her, my mind was swimming with pain once more. I yelled in agony as Raoul brought his blade across my chest, slicing me open. It was not fatal. He knew that. He had done it for pure enjoyment. It felt deep, the worst I had received in a long time, aside from his previous gift.

Another scar to add to the collection. How grim.

It took all I had not to continue to cry out in pain as he walked away from me. I couldn't move. Not like this. It would be impossible. He had known that when he had struck me. I held my chest with one hand and my stomach with the other, blood streaming over my fingers as I did so.

I must have lost consciousness briefly for in seconds, Madame Giry was at my side, asking me questions.

"M-madame…" I managed as she approached me.

"Erik…" She knelt down. "My God! Are you alright? You… there is so much blood! What can I do?" She pressed her hand to my chest as she began to weep. I wanted to do the same.

"It… It isn't a first, Madame." I managed. She nodded. She knew that. "Chris… Christine…" I breathed. "Did you s-see her…?"

"Christine? N-no… the last time I saw her was when I gave her the supplies to leave. She said that the two of you were leaving. Come, we must go!"

I nodded.

"We were…" I looked up at her with a grimace. "Y-you have not seen her?"

"No." She shook her head. "We have to move you…" She repeated.

"Erik!" We both looked to the top of the stairs to see Christine. Her eyes were wide, her hands brought to her mouth just as Madame Giry's had been.

"Chris…tine." I managed with a weak smile.

"What happened to you!?" She cried as she ran toward me.

"Raoul…" Madame Giry answered for me.

"Are you… were you stabbed? What has happened!? Erik! Please…"

"It… it is not fatal… Christine… Only…"

"Painful." She answered with a sweet smile, gently stroking my face.

I nodded.

"Christine, Raoul is returning." Madame Giry began. "He would have killed Erik if I hadn't told him to arrest him instead! He will return shortly, we have to leave now!"

I was glad that she was there to talk for me; I was in far too much pain. My head was swimming with it.

"Erik…" Christine began, seemingly she hadn't heard what her adoptive mother had said to her. Instead she was peering over my body at another, lying several feet away from me. "Who is that?"

I turned to look. It was the young Officer. I had forgotten about him during Raoul's attack…

"Christine…" I began. "He… He attacked me I… I did not mean to…" I hadn't meant to. The last action like this had almost torn Christine and I apart and I had promised never to kill again. I felt sick. I looked to Christine before turning back to the body. He was surely dead. I had simply struck blindly and in the confusion, had delivered a killing blow. His neck was covered in blood. It had stained his uniform and was slowly dripping down to cover the stairs below him. He was just a boy and I had killed him… "I… Christine, I am so sorry…"

Christine held her mouth. She looked as though she was going to be sick. I wanted to weep. The disappointment in her face, the pain… everything. It was all too much.

"I'm… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry." I managed, looking down with tears in my eyes.

"Don't… do not worry about it now, Erik." Christine began. "You would not have done it unless you had to. The important thing now is moving you from here."

Taking one last, worried glance at my bloodied body, she set to work. Just as she had done in the cemetery, she tore away a piece of her dress, and while Madame Giry helped me to sit up slightly, Christine pulled the piece of fabric around my body and tied it tightly, applying pressure to my wound. I yelled as she did so but with nothing more than a grimace, she carried on dutifully.

"Christine, his chest is…" Madame Giry began. Christine looked up at her before looking down at me and peeling away the thick, once fine fabric of my shirt, now completely red. She gasped as her eyes were met with my torn flesh.

"It is alright…" I said, attempting to soothe her. It was not alright, but I did not want to upset her. It was the last thing I wanted and yet it kept happening.

"Do you want me to…" Madame Giry took Christine's hand.

"No." She replied tersely. "No, I will do it."

Christine

This was my fault, after all. How could I have allowed this to happen to Erik? He would claim that the fault was not mine, but it was. I was putting him through so much pain and I loathed every second of it.

"Did you see Raoul, Christine?" Madame Giry asked.

"No…" I replied. "But because of me, Erik had to."

"Christine…" Erik breathed. He spoke slowly. "Do not blame yourself. Please."

"Who else can I blame, Erik?" I replied, tearing off more of my dress to wrap around his chest. It was a mystery to me that he was able to speak at all given his state. I would have been a mess. He yelled and his wound oozed blood as I tied the second piece of fabric around him. "We should have just left! You wanted to leave. I am so sorry that this happened to you." I placed a kiss on his lips that he returned. Briefly and absentmindedly but that was understandable.

"Christine…"

"I know. I know. Let us just… talk later. Now, we need to move." I said, smiling down at him. "And don't tell me that you cannot because there is not another option!"

"I know…" He breathed. "I am… more afraid of y-your wrath than… the pain." He smiled weakly.

"So you should be!" I teased. "Alright, you just hold onto your wounds and Madame and I will try to lift you." I glanced at the woman beside before turning back to Erik. "This is going to hurt."

He nodded in agreement and set his jaw.

"Alright." He said.

With that we lifted him up. He was incredibly heavy and his protestations made me want to stop at every moment but I knew that I could not. Madame Giry picked up the torch left by the Policeman as we walked past him. I could not help but stare as we did. I wished that he was alive. Seeing him lying there upset me greatly. What if he'd had a family? A mother? A lover? They would never see him again. He was dead and the man in my arms was responsible… but if he had harmed Erik, attacked Erik as he had said, then it was different. It was wrong and it was hard to accept but I was simply glad that it had not been Erik lying there on those steps with his throat agape… I turned away and continued forward.

The walk down to Erik's home was torturous. For him, of course… but for me also. He could not put his arms around Madame Giry and myself and I could not touch him anywhere in support that did not bring him pain. I had to hold his arm and hope that it would be enough. After several minutes of journey down the spiral staircase, it became too much for him.

"Stop, wait. I need to stop." He spoke.

"Erik, we cannot!"

"I know, but…"

"I know that you are in pain, but you must push yourself! We can rest at the bottom of the staircase." I moved in front of him slightly and took his face in my hands. "You can do this." I began, placing a kiss on his lips. "You have the strength to do this. I know you do."

He offered me a weak smile.

There was blood on his face and mask; no doubt they were smudges from his hands that were covered in it, and he was sweating profusely. Gently, I removed his mask and wig.

"You will be more comfortable without these." I said. I felt his hand jerk to stop me but he did not follow through, only looked down as I did so. Madame Giry also looked down, shifting uncomfortably where she stood.

"I doubt that." He said quietly. Placing my hand under his chin I tilted his head up so that his gaze would meet mine. His thin, copper hair was slicked with sweat, as was his face and I knew that he would feel better without the mask and wig covering them.

"You can do this, my love." I said. Madame Giry glanced at me awkwardly, before allowing a shy smile to cross her features. She had known of Erik and I, but she had never seen us together. Not before tonight. It all must have seemed quite strange to her, quite foreign.

With a curt nod from Erik we were on our way again. I was truly beginning to worry for him.

We will stitch you up as soon as we reach your home.

As soon as we get there.

We will get there soon.

We will arrive soon and you will be fine.

Everything will be fine.

I repeated the words over and over again in my head and I assume that he was doing the same, for I hadn't a clue how else he had made it as far as he had. Where was he drawing his strength from?

"Does Raoul know how to get to Erik's home?" Madame Giry began as we set Erik down against the wall. We had decided to allow him a short rest halfway down the staircase.

"Presumably not. Meg could not have known could she?"

"Then Raoul will not know. The only reason he was able to get as far as he had was due to her…"

There was a moment of silence between us. It was as if each of us wanted to apologise to the other on Meg's behalf. She, as her mother, and I as her sister. We had both failed her greatly in order for such betrayal to have occurred. There was no other explanation.

"…But we cannot stay there anymore." I continued, a moan from Erik knocking me from my reverie. "After we sew Erik's wounds… or after I sew his wounds, we must leave."

"Christine, you must know that I will stay and assist you with whatever you need." She touched my face affectionately to which I smiled guardedly. "Where will you go?"

"I do not know. We… hadn't fully planned it. I suppose that we thought we had more time."

"Don't we all?" Madame Giry mused. "Come, we must make haste with him. He is still losing blood." With that, we picked up a disgruntled Erik and continued toward his home.

What of my father? That would have to wait.

Please let me know what you think :)