A/N: Perhaps it may interest my readers to receive a glimpse of how Erik's path as the Phantom of the Opera will be altered by the events in Persia. I am considering whether to share chapters of this altered path in between the Persian storyline. If you have strong thoughts on this and are comfortable sharing, please add a comment or send a PM :)
Prologue
In the soft glow of a sunlit afternoon in Paris, Erik sat poised at the grand piano in his opulent vocal studio, his silver mask catching the gentle rays filtering through the windows.
On the other side of the piano, Carlotta stood by his side, her haughty posture leaning into the instrument as she practiced her aria. As Erik's skilled fingers caressed the keys, Carlotta's voice soared, filling the room with the haunting melody of Camille Saint-Saëns' "Mon coeur s'ouvre a ta voix". However, a sudden crack in her singing halted the harmony, followed by a string of colorful Italian expletives escaping her lips and earning a weary sigh from Erik.
"Mademoiselle, your technique is risking harm. Persisting in this manner will lead to the development of vocal nodules," Erik's voice carried a note of genuine concern.
Carlotta's eyes widened in alarm. "Vocal nodules? I had no idea... I sought a doctor for a persistent pain in my throat, but I fear it may be too late."
Erik's masked face softened with empathy. "It's never too late to take care of your voice, Carlotta. Health is paramount in our profession. Tell me, who did you seek medical attention from?"
Carlotta hesitated momentarily before responding, "I sought out Dr. Duval. Despite his reputation for treating vocal ailments, much to my surprise, upon arrival, I was greeted by a female physician! How could a lady possibly comprehend the gravity of my condition? I dismissed her counsel as trivial and departed at once."
Instantly alert, Erik rose to his feet, the mention of Dr. Duval reigniting a dormant spark of memory within his heart - Amelia. Amelia, a name etched in the annals of his past, carried echoes of a shared history drenched in shadows and sacrifice. Amelia, the woman who irrevocably altered the course of his masked existence.
As Erik's mind raced with the revelation of her presence in Paris, a sense of urgency gripped his being. "Where is her office? Let's conclude the lesson early, shall we? You need vocal rest" Erik interjected, a tinge of impatience coloring his tone.
"On the Rue de la Harmonie, not far from here," Carlotta responded, noting Erik's sudden intensity.
Just as Erik prepared to hasten to seek out Amelia, a sharp rap echoed at his office door. Preempting any acknowledgment, his assistant Madame Giry strode in with purpose, her voice resolute. "Maestro, a new student awaits - Christine Daae. Shall I usher her in once your session with Mademoiselle Giudicelli concludes?"
Erik paused, torn between the urgency of the moment and his professional obligations. He made a swift decision. "Wrap up with Giudicelli. Schedule Daae's initial lesson at the first available slot on my calendar - urgent matters beckon," Erik directed, swiftly gathering his hat in readiness to depart.
Stepping out of his office with purposeful strides, Erik carried his hat in hand, his mind consumed by the prospect of an unforeseen reunion with Amelia. The echoes of their complex history urging him on a path that promised untold revelations and hidden truths waiting to surface in the streets of Paris. Engrossed in contemplation, Erik was nearly oblivious to the presence of the petite Swedish soprano awaiting his attention. She stood with a quiet poise, ready to introduce herself to the enigmatic Maestro.
She couldn't help but blush as her gaze swept over him; he was a striking figure indeed. His tall, lean frame exuded an air of mystery and elegance, accentuated by the gleaming silver mask that added a touch of intrigue to his already captivating presence. Every detail of his attire was meticulously arranged, befitting a man of refined taste and sophistication.
Clad in a tailored midnight black frock coat, he commanded attention with his impeccable style. The coat draped perfectly over his frame, showcasing the craftsmanship and attention to detail that defined his wardrobe choices. Beneath the coat, a crisp dress shirt hinted at understated luxury, while a silk cravat provided a subtle pop of color and sophistication. The tailored trousers accentuated his lean yet muscular legs, completing the ensemble with a nod to timeless elegance.
Polished leather boots graced his feet, adding a final touch of polish to his impeccable look. With every step, he exuded an aura of refined charm and sophistication, drawing all eyes to him in admiration and curiosity. In that moment, as she took in his impeccable appearance, she couldn't deny the allure of the enigmatic man before her.
"Maestro, your reputation precedes you. I've heard tales of your mastery, and it would be a privilege to benefit from your vocal instruction," Christine expressed warmly, her voice carrying a mix of admiration and enthusiasm.
Turning his focus towards her, Erik offered a brief, courteous apology. "I'm afraid our meeting will have to wait for another occasion," he expressed before swiftly departing. As he left, Erik left his office door slightly ajar, unknowingly granting Christine a glimpse inside. Peering through the opening, she observed Madame Giry consoling the current Prima Donna, Carlotta. Yet, it was a particular plaque that captured her attention, its inscription strikingly clear despite the distance, thanks to the contrast of materials. The words etched on it read, "A name is a blueprint of your character. You are now the Angel of Music." Overwhelmed with joy, Christine's eyes widened as she vocalized her thoughts. "Min Gud! Oh papa, you have kept your promise. The Angel of Music will guide me!"