Chapter 2

Flashback – Winter 1754
(Two Years before the start of the Seven Years War)

"Father, are you almost ready?" I asked excitedly.

"In a moment Lottie, I just have to finish putting on my jacket." My father said laughing.

I laughed too, knowing that my excitement was clearly showing on my face.

"Lottie, before we go, I want to give you something." My father spoke up.

I turned around and found that my father was fishing for something out of his pocket. I looked in wonder, trying to guess what it could be.

"Lottie, what I am about to give you is something that I need you to keep safe for me. You see it is very old, and one day, I believe that it could unlock a great many things. But for now, I need you to wear it and keep it safe." My father explained.

I nodded, taking on a serious face. With that, my father pulled out what looked like a pendant, that seemed to be very old. It was clear that whatever it was, it must have been buried underground.

"Lottie, this here is a key. One that will help to unlock something once we find it. My mentor, Miko has asked that I keep it safe for now, and who better to keep it safe than you, my daughter. But understand that it is very important that you keep this with you, at all times until I, or perhaps someday your mentor asks you for it. Promise me, that you will never take it off." My father explained.

I simply nodded, and my father handed me the key. I placed it around my neck and decided to tuck it inside the collar of my dress. If my father was asking me to keep something safe, I knew that it was better to leave it hidden. Especially if it had come from the brotherhood.

"And see here? I have one that looks like it too, but always remember that you have the real one Lottie." My father said.

It was then that I knew that tonight would be a night to remember.

And sure enough, it had been a night to remember, but not in the way that I had intended to remember it.

We were halfway through the play when I felt the need to use the facilities. I looked over at my father noticing that he was intently watching the opera. Excusing myself, I told him that I would be right back and needed to use the powder room. I remembered seeing him nod his head, but nothing came out of his mouth. I laughed to myself knowing that when my father became enamored with the music, he did little else but pay attention to the beauty of it all. I made my way to the nearest powder room which happened to be on the direct other side of the opera house. Finally coming upon it I made my stop quick so that I wouldn't miss too much of the opera. Attempting to pace myself back towards my seat, I nearly had a run in with a man who was dressed in what appeared to be a heavy overcoat, with normal boots and pants, along with what looked to be a familial crested cape draped around him along with a tricorn hat. Shaking my head, I continued to make my way back to our assigned box. However, as I entered, I knew that something was wrong, my father was no longer sitting upright. From what I could tell from the back of the chair, he now sat slumped. Worried, I ran to his side. Finding him slumped over, I saw that his eyes were closed and that he wasn't breathing! Looking, I noticed that there was an incision made in his side, and I saw that it had gone all the way through so much that it had destroyed the upholstery on the chair. Not only that, but the necklace that he had on, of the identical key pendant was missing. It was then that I screamed.

I didn't know how long I had screamed before the authorities had come to the box. They had hovered over my father's dead body. I remember being led out of the box. That was the last time I saw my father, or at least his body. The next time I saw my father, he was in a casket, buried in the ground.

I watched as my father's casket was lowered into the hole that was dug. I would forever only remember seeing him slumped like that in the chair at the Opera. And all for a pendent that was fake. Though it was clear that whoever had taken it didn't know that. Tears were running down my face as I silently said goodbye to my father. However, that wasn't the only thing that I was silently saying. Today would mark the day that I would find my father's killer, and I would make them pay.

After my father had been murdered, I was sent to live with family friends. Madam and Monsieur Velaris. Both had been close with my father and I when we had moved to England. Madam Velaris upon meeting me had always insisted that I called her Mamma Velaris. For the most part, I did, seeing as I never knew my mother. However, I remember that for the majority of that time, I had only ever addressed them properly.

My time after that had been spent on how to get the training that I needed so that I could start the hunt for my father's killer. However, I knew that I would run into trouble as I wasn't old enough to enter into the brotherhood and wasn't nearly ready to start training as I was still too young, only at the age of 12. Yet, whenever I looked at the key pendent, my resolve to train someway only hardened. It was four years later when my own salvation came in the form of a letter, just after my sixteenth birthday.

Spring – 1758

Dear Mademoiselle Daae,

Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Madam Antoinette Giry, and I am the ballet mistress for the Opera Populaire in Paris, France. I knew your father back when he was in Paris for a short time.

I write to you to express my condolences on the loss of your father. He was a good man and will be missed. I am also writing to you to give a formal invitation to be a part of the Opera Populaire Chorus and Corp de Ballet here in Paris.

Your father wrote to me in the summer of 1754 and expressed the desire for you to have a chance to pursue a life on the stage. He had told me that you have the voice of an angel, and if taught, you would be an outstanding ballerina. Taking him on his word, I want you to come and join us, so that you may have your chance to chase your dream of performing.

I of course know that things must be confusing for you at this time, as this letter is only coming to you now four years after the death of your father. However, all I can say is that I wanted to give you time to grieve. I know that your sixteenth birthday just passed, and with that I urge you to accept the offer. Perhaps this would be a great opportunity to instill a lasting memory of your father in performing and perhaps allow yourself the opportunity to learn the necessary skills needed in the future?

I look forward to your response.

In all sincerity,

Antoinette Giry

Needless to say, the letter had taken me quite by surprise, however at the time I wasn't exactly eager to accept. Even if it had been four years later, I knew that I had then been old enough to start my Assassin training, and I hadn't wanted to give that opportunity up, especially if it meant that I would have been able to start looking for my father's killer. However, both Madam and Monsieur Velaris were excited by this opportunity for me and expressed encouragement to consider the offer. Yet, the part of the issue that most people didn't know was that I still felt inside shattered. I wasn't sure if I would be able to perform, knowing that my father would never be there to see me. I at first didn't want to even contemplate going, but after much deliberation and a lot of persuasion from Madam Velaris, I finally agreed and thus I was off on the next ship to Paris. When I arrived, I was met at the docks by Madam Giry herself, and a girl about my age.

I had just departed the ship and was walking towards the area in which I might hail a cab, however I was stopped when I heard someone call my name. Turning, I came face to face with whom I could only assume to be Madam Giry.

"Hello Christine, my name is Antoinette Giry, but you may call me Madam Giry. This here is my daughter Marguerite Giry, everyone calls her Meg. She is also a ballet student for the Corp De Ballet."

The younger girl had come up to me and curtsied. I smiled and did the same thing in return.

"Come along we must get back before dark. I will give you tomorrow to get settled and then after that we shall see about getting you introduced to the Corp de Ballet. As far as the singing situation, we shall have to take that as it comes. After all, my dear you are still young. Most of our chorus girls are about the age of 18 – 23, so we shall see." Madam Giry explained.

All I did was nod in return. I believed that I was perfectly fine with the ballet. If I was being honest with myself, I believed that I would never be ready to sing again. Ever since the death of my father, I hadn't sung one note. I didn't believe that I would sing until whomever murdered him was gone.

"So, Christine, have you ever danced before?" Meg asked.

I looked at her and simply shook my head. I could see that Meg was only trying to get to know me, but at the moment I wasn't in the mood for small talk. However, Meg didn't seem to pick up on my silent queues.

"Well, can't you talk?" Meg asked rather bluntly.

"Marguerite Giry!" I heard Antoinette cry.

I saw Meg shrink back into her seat. Clearly, she wasn't out to be scolded, she was just curious. Seeing the issue, I spoke up on her behalf.

"It's quite alright Madam." I reassured her.

"To answer your question, yes, I can speak, I am just very tired from my journey, and just simply didn't wish to speak. That is all." I explained looking at Meg.

I noticed that Meg had gone pink in the face. I could tell that she was slightly embarrassed by her own behavior. Yet I reassured her.

"It's quite alright that you asked that question. If I was in your place, I would have likely asked the same thing." I said and laughed.

Meg let out a laugh as well and I knew that over time we would become the best of friends.

Sure enough, Meg and I had become fast friends. By the time my first year at the Populaire had ended, Meg and I were as close as sisters. We told each other everything and seldom kept secrets from one another, aside from my background with the Assassin's. That was on a need-to-know basis, and since I technically wasn't a member, there was no reason that anyone needed to know that I or my father were a part of that life. Most people didn't know that we existed unless we wanted them to know. My skills with the ballet were shaky at first, and there were plenty of times I believed that I just wasn't cut out for this type of life, like my father believed. However, both Meg and Madam Giry were there to help me where I had trouble. Before long Madam Giry had become much like a second mother to me, much in the same way that Madam Velaris had become. However, as my ballet skills improved, I still felt the urge to want to hunt for my father's killer. Yet, I knew that I wouldn't get very far without some training. Knowing that I didn't have a chance that the brotherhood would allow me to train while I was away in Paris, I decided that I would start to train myself. So, during the night, when everyone was asleep, I would grab one of the prop swords and attempt to train myself. However, one night when I was attempting to practice, a voice came out of nowhere startling me.

Flashback Spring – 1759

I had been attempting to hit the dummy in front of me, but I kept faltering. I let out a groan, knowing that I would have to try it again. Suddenly as I began to run towards the dummy once more, a voice rang out, catching me completely off guard.

"You are holding the sword wrong. Try adjusting your grip and turning the sword about a quarter inch clockwise, then try again."

I stopped suddenly, looking around. I frantically checked everything, trying to figure out if I would be in trouble or if perhaps, I was just imagining things. However, the answer was made for me as the voice spoke up again.

"Don't bother trying to find me. I am everywhere and nowhere at the same time. You may as well give up on that front. But I promise you Mademoiselle I mean you no harm."

Still looking around, I managed to speak out.

"And why should I believe a word you say? For all I know, you could be a murderer trying to get me to let my guard down so that you can kill me."

I then heard a deep chuckle.

"Mademoiselle, if I wanted you dead, then you would have been so already. In fact, I have been here for quite some time silently observing."

I finally gave up looking for the body that went with this voice. I swore I could sometimes hear it on the balcony then sometimes I could hear it in the shadows of the stage. I clearly had, had enough. I didn't need anyone watching me train. That was the entire reason why I did this at night. Nobody could know what I was, or rather what I was destined to become. Finally, seeming to gather up the courage, I spoke out against this disembodied voice.

"Well Monsieur, for your information, I don't very much appreciate being observed. I also shall mention that I don't much appreciate the interruption of my training. Besides, seeing as you are nothing more than a disembodied voice, how would you know how to fight with a sword?"

After finishing up my rant, I waited for some type of comeback, but none came. Smiling in triumph, I began to train again. However, once more before I could make it halfway to the dummy, the voice spoke up again.

"You won't be able to take down an enemy that way. The moment you get there they will overpower you, and you will be dead before you could even attempt to attack. And as for sword fighting, I know more than you would think, not to mention that I wouldn't call what you are doing training, I would call it more, gambling your life."

I stopped short once again. I could hear the smirk in this voice and knew that they were only doing it to get under my skin. Yet now I was angry. What right did this voice, this person, have a say in how I trained? Couldn't they just let me be? Clearly not. So being in the mind that I would be unlikely, left alone I stashed the sword back to the props area and stormed off stage.

After that first meeting. I had originally thought that it would be the only one that would happen. As it turned out I was terribly wrong. Every time after that, the voice would speak up and give me advice and tips that I didn't want nor thought I needed, yet as time went on, I began to find myself taking the advice given and started to see an improvement. However, I never told them that. That would only inflate their ego, assuming that this person had one.

Finally, after nearly 6 months of training and learning the sword, the voice spoke up. I stopped my onslaught that I had been aiming at the dummy for nearly an hour.

"Christine. How would you like to learn other forms of fighting, with perhaps different weapons?"

I stopped and thought about this. I knew that it would be good for me to learn different weapons, that way I would have much more at my arsenal should I choose to use it or if it was ever needed. Yet there was still a thought nagging in the back of my mind. It was the fact that this voice, or whatever it was, had never shown itself. What if they turned out to be an enemy that would only hinder me? What if I was placing trust in this person only for them to backstab me along the way? These thoughts were racing through my head, and I didn't know what to do. Of course, I would want to learn more, yet something inside me was always wary of those who approached me. Especially if they were a disembodied voice. However, perhaps this person could be reasoned with? Maybe even willing to compromise? They train me in weapons, but in order to have my cooperation, they would need to show themselves. With this idea in mind, I broached the subject.

"I believe that learning new weapons would be interesting; however, I have a request of you." I explained, making sure that my tone was light, but confident.

"Oh? And what is that?"

"If you are to teach me how to wield more weapons, then I wish to see who my teacher is." I explained.

There was deafening silence after that. Not a word was spoken for several minutes before the voice spoke once more.

"I don't believe that would be wise."

Getting frustrated, I replied sharply.

"How am I to learn or get anywhere with other weapons if I can't see them being demonstrated? Why must you hide in the shadows?!"

"Christine, you must understand. There are certain prohibitions that keep me from revealing myself to you."

"Such as?" I shot back.

I could hear the audible sigh from them.

"You wouldn't understand. You still have much to learn about the world Miss Daae. One thing you should keep in mind, is that the world is cruel and selfish, and it doesn't have any room for those who are less than perfect."

"You don't think I don't know that the world can be cruel and selfish? My father was killed during an Opera. He was killed during a time in which he and I were together. I found him dead! What's worse is that the person who killed him is still out there! The authorities have done all they can and have since backed off the case. In other words, the trail has gone cold. But I believe that they didn't try hard enough. So, I am taking matters into my own hands! If you wish to stay in the shadows, fine! I believe that we are done here. I shall take my leave from your presence. I would advise you to leave me alone in the future."

I gathered up the prop sword that I was using and started to make my way back to the costume department to place it back, when suddenly there was a rush of air behind me. I slowly turned; my prop sword held at the ready. However, then I heard a sigh, and I knew that it had to have been the voice who had been coaching me for the last several months.

"Is this truly what you wish? You wish to see the person who has been teaching you?" The voice spoke.

Knowing that they likely could see me, I nodded my head. Suddenly I heard footsteps coming towards me and I watched as a silhouette started to appear. As they got closer, I could make out something bright. However, I didn't dare move or say anything. They kept walking into the light and then as if by magic I saw them, or rather, I saw him. Standing before me was a man, dressed all in black. He wore an evening suit tailored to his body, and a black cape. However, that was not the most interesting part, no; the one thing that caught my attention was the bright golden eyes that stared at me in waiting. Then there was also the black as night mask that covered the top half of his face, leaving just his lips and chin visible. As I continued to study this person, this man, my stomach wound in knots and the nagging feeling that had always prevented me from trust came around. It took me all of two minutes to know why. I now stood in the presence of Opera Ghost. While of course I had heard the rumors, I had never thought them to be more than just that, rumors. However, clearly there was some truth to these stories.

"You're–, you're the Opera Ghost!"

"Yes. Surely you can't be that shocked. Who else could have taught you? Who else would be up at this hour of night, and keep to the shadows? Surely you have heard the stories."

I broke out of any reverie that I had been stuck in and managed to find my voice.

"Of course, I have heard the stories, I just chose not to believe them. I had never imagined that you could be real. I suppose I didn't care much for the way that you were described by everyone. So, I chose to ignore it most of the time."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I could see the shock on his face. Well, at least what I could see of it. I stared at the man who had come to my aid and despite my meager protests, had coached me through my fighting technique. But now that I knew who he was, I wasn't sure how to feel. Every alarm in my brain was telling me to run and to get away, that he was a murderer, yet there was the other side of me that believed that this man was not all that people said he was. In fact, he had been nothing but kind to me even when I would scold him or talk out of turn. He had never once spoken to me in anger. If anything, he had always been calm, and always seemed to indulge me in my attempts to fend him off in the beginning.

"You were told the stories, and you chose to turn a blind eye? Why?" I heard him speak after a while.

I merely shrugged my shoulders attempting to brush off the idea. "I suppose I didn't want to believe everything I was told until I could verify for myself if it was true. My father always taught me to look with my heart, so perhaps that is where this sense of 'turning a blind eye' came from." I explained nonchalantly.

I could see him nod in response as if he was trying to convince himself if what I was saying held any merit.

"Look, I thank you for taking the time to teach me everything. And thank you for trusting me enough to show me who you are. I suppose I should get this back to the costume department before dawn approaches. I promise I will never divulge what you have shown me. I hope that perhaps one day we shall meet again."

I had turned to leave when I felt a hand grab my arm. I stopped and looked back wondering why he had held me back.

"Christine, I didn't show myself to you, so that you would abandon me after we met. I intend to hold up my end of the bargain and teach you how to use more weapons. I wish only for you to succeed. However, I do have another proposal for you." The Opera Ghost said.

"And what might that be Monsieur?" I asked.

"I wish to teach you another craft other than fighting. I wish to coach you in music as well."

I was taken aback by that request. While I had come here to become a part of the arts I had never thought about my singing. Ever since my father had died, I still felt that the music had been taken from me. True I hadn't attempted to sing in the five years since my father's death. Yet I wasn't sure if my heart was ready to take this on. Learning how to fight and defend myself properly was one thing. But teaching me to sing again was entirely another. Taking a deep breath, I looked back at the Opera Ghost.

"Monsieur, I'm not–, I don't–." I sighed, not sure how to explain this. "I don't believe that I can be coached. You see, ever since my father died, I have not sung. In fact, I feel as if the music has been taken from me. I don't believe that I even hold the heart to do it anymore. While I do appreciate your generous proposal, I just don't believe that I can give you what you are looking for. For all I know I may sound like a washed-up canary."

I took a breath, attempting to keep myself from crying, even though I wanted to. If there was anything else that I wouldn't do, it was continuing to cry. I had let out enough tears, now was the time for me to start acting like the confident girl that I was to become, and the last thing that I wanted was sympathy, especially from the man who was the Opera Ghost.

"Christine, forgive me. I didn't know that this affected you so. I would not have brought it up if I thought that it would cause you pain. But you should know that I believe that the music is still inside of you waiting to get out. However, you have to be the person to let it out Christine. While you may not be ready yet, I believe that one day you will be. One day you shall sing for the angels above, and your father will look down on you happy to see you fulfilling your own dream." The Opera Ghost said.

I managed to contain myself and stave off the need to cry and looked up at this man who may be imposing and frightening to everyone else, but to me he was the person that I felt truly understood what I was going through. Out of everyone here, he knew that the music perhaps was trapped within me, and I couldn't let it out … not yet.

"With that in mind, I wish for you to keep this proposal in the back of your mind until you feel that it would benefit you, for me to coach you, for I believe that you will be perhaps one of the greatest Sopranos ever to grace the stage." The Opera Ghost spoke.

All I could do was nod, which seemed to be enough for him. I watched as he began to walk away knowing that dawn was approaching, however I stopped him one last time.

"Monsieur!"

He turned around to face me again.

"What shall I call you? I certainly don't believe that Opera Ghost would be a good idea. We shan't want to draw unwanted attention." I explained.

I looked at his face, which had now become unreadable, however before I attempted to take back what I had said, he spoke up.

"Erik. You may call me Erik."

I smiled and repeated the name one last time.

"Erik."