Chapter 3

From then on Erik took over my training and began to teach me all he could. We had agreed to move the training sessions to his home down in the fifth cellar as that way we wouldn't get caught, and as it was, by day I was a ballerina, and by night I was a warrior getting herself ready for battle. This went on for three years. And over those years I perfected my craft. I trained hard in both aspects of my life. However, I never sang. I had asked Erik to give me time and he, to his credit, had not brought it up since his first offer. By the time I reached my twentieth year, I had been trained in every aspect that I could think of. I was trained in stealth, defense technique, offense technique, and various weapons, including one that I didn't believe most Assassin's knew of, the Punjab Lasso. That was one of Erik's favorite weapons to use. He had even once told me that he had used it for years before he had learned another weapon. However, that wasn't the only thing that he had told me then.

Flashback – Fall 1762
(One Year before the end of the Seven Years War)

"Good evening, Erik." I stated as I walked onto the stage. We had agreed to meet on the stage tonight as Erik had mentioned that the weapon would be useful if one was up high. It took no time before I saw him appear from the shadows. Today he still had on his evening suit but this time no cape.

"Good evening, Christine." He replied as I came to stand about 6 feet away from him.

"So, what are we learning today?" I asked clearly excited. Last week Erik had told me that I had mastered the bow and arrow, now it would be time for me to move on to the next weapon. I watched as Erik chuckled lightly, he then pulled out what looked to be a rope, however the color of it was a deep red and at one end there appeared to be what looked like a noose.

"This is a Punjab Lasso. It is used to strangle your enemies. You can find that this weapon is formidable when you are looking to be silent about your movements and can be kept very well hidden when used. Often one can even have something like this in their own pocket or within one's sleeve. This originates from the Punjab region of India and Pakistan where it was first made and introduced." Erik explained.

I looked on in both fear and wonder. Of all the weapons that I had learned over the last few years, this one would have to be the one that frightened me the most. I had never thought to strangle someone before, yet there it was, the weapon that could be used to do it.

"Granted, this weapon could be used for more close-up kills, it can also be used at a distance should you have a lasso long enough." Erik said.

I nodded, understanding that the weapon had both its pros and cons. However, that isn't what frightened me the most, rather it was the thought of watching my enemies suffer before they died. Granted, I knew that the man that had killed my father deserved that fate, yet other enemies, it would have to depend on the situation. However, out of my arsenal of weapons, I was seeing the advantage that this could have for stealth missions, especially if I was spotted.

"I shall demonstrate, then I would like for you to try." Erik said.

I nodded and watched as Erik climbed up towards the rafters until he was just above the dummy that we had been using for practice. He expertly, threw the lasso down and it landed around the dummy's neck. Then Erik gave a mighty pull and the noose on the end tightened and the dummy was then lifted from the ground. Erik had redesigned the dummy so that the neck was bendable, to give a realistic feel for when certain weapons were used. I watched as the dummy's neck snapped to the side to showcase what would happen should a victim be strangled. Erik then let the dummy down and climbed back down onto the stage. He quickly removed the Punjab lasso from the dummy and reset him. Erik then turned to me.

"Alright, your turn. Remember, you don't have to do it exactly as I did, you can still just aim and throw and then tighten the noose. This result will still be the same, causing your victim to become powerless." Erik explained.

"Ok." I said seeming to find my words. I took a step forward, aimed the lasso at the dummy, and threw it. I ended up missing, but Erik encouraged me to try again, this time trying to aim a little more to my left. I did it once more and still missed it. I ended up doing this several more times before I finally managed to get the lasso around the dummy. Suddenly it was as if instinct kicked in and I ran towards the dummy, tightened the lasso, and mimicked the strangling of an enemy. I was only pulled out of my reverie when Erik touched me. I gasped and quickly stood, facing Erik.

I could see Erik looking at me with concern trying to figure out what had happened. I continued to take deep breaths and slowly back away from the dummy.

"Christine, breath. Breath, you are here with me, not wherever your mind has taken you to. Focus on my breathing."

I finally managed to snap out of my own head, and I looked at Erik. Suddenly I hugged him and didn't let go for some time. Erik, who was shocked at the sudden gesture, managed to wrap his arms around me and held me close. After a few more minutes I was able to pull away and stand. I looked at Erik and I could see the questions. I sighed and began to explain.

"When I had finally gotten the lasso over the dummy, it was as if something had kicked in and suddenly, I wasn't in control of my movements. It was as if I was a spectator watching myself kill someone. I don't know what happened. But I imagined that I caught my father's killer and that I wanted them to suffer. I wanted them to suffer, like I suffered. It was as if everything was playing out in my head."

Erik nodded and seemed to understand. He then gathered up the Punjab lasso and dragged the extra dummy that we had on stage back into its hiding place and he gestured for me to follow him. I silently walked with him as we made our way back to his home. Throughout the entire time, I remained silent, and Erik did too. Once we had reached the threshold of his home I got up and got out of the boat. I waited while Erik unlocked his door and led us into the house on the lake, as I had taken to calling it.

"Why don't you sit, I'll get a fire started. Would you care for some tea?" Erik asked.

I nodded in silence and made my way over to the living area and sat. So much was going through my mind. I couldn't understand it. With every other weapon that Erik had trained me in, I had no problems learning it and using it, yet with the Punjab Lasso, it was as if, I finally understood that this weapon could not only incapacitate someone, but could kill them, and make them suffer. It gave the chance for the killer to look into the eyes of their victim and watch the life drain from them. Erik ever the great teacher had always taught me that killing should act as a last resort, and I should attempt to incapacitate my enemy and then decide if they should need to be killed. However, I knew that in the brotherhood, we were assigned targets, and I would– should I decide to make my way from Paris back to England to join the brotherhood, need to likely kill my target. Especially if that target was a templar.

I was so caught up in my thoughts, I didn't realize that Erik had come to my side holding out the aforementioned tea. I looked up and offered a strained smile and took the cup. Erik took a seat, already having started the fire and we sat quietly enjoying the silence. However, something was nagging at the back of my mind. Erik seemed to be very knowledgeable in various weaponry, yet I could tell the Punjab Lasso was one of his strong suits. Curiosity ended up egging me on to ask him where he learned to handle such a weapon. My mind winning, I decided to ask.

"Erik, where did you learn how to use the Punjab Lasso?"

I watched as Erik stopped his movements and looked almost frozen in fear. I couldn't understand why. However, before I could think about it further, he responded, albeit vaguely.

"Many years ago on my travels, I learned how to use it. It was the best weapon I had at my disposal at the time."

That was all he said. However, my curiosity wasn't sated.

"But why use that, when there were other weapons that you could have used?" I asked.

Erik sighed, clearly showing that he didn't like the way that this conversation was going.

"Christine, that is a story that I cannot share. One that isn't for the faint of heart. I wish to close this matter. Let us talk about other subjects." Erik replied firmly in a tone that brooked no argument.

I shook my head, knowing that Erik was closing himself off. He often did this when I attempted to learn anything regarding his past. In the past I had often let it go, but now that he had been teaching me for nearly three years, I felt that I was owed some answers.

"Cannot or will not?" I asked, my tone turning sharp.

Erik then got up from his seat turning his back to me.

"Christine, the matter is closed."

I suddenly stood up, a righteous fury overtaking me.

"I have done everything you have asked of me! For three years you have trained me, and I have never asked anything about your past, and never bothered to, because I knew that it was a subject that likely wasn't an easy one for you, probably littered with memories that you don't want to relive. But you know everything about me! Everything! Not once have I ever held something back from you! Erik, you still act as though I would scurry away like a fearful puppy with her tail between her legs! Granted perhaps when I was younger that may have been the case, but nothing, nothing could be nearly as bad as finding my father dead!"

Erik whirled around and faced me, clear anger in his eyes.

"Finding your father dead is nothing compared to the past that I have lived. You know nothing! When we first met, I told you that the world was a cruel and selfish place, one that would likely spit out anyone who didn't appear normal! Throughout the years I will admit that you have become stronger, but nothing could ever prepare you for the likes of what I have faced! You still believe that the world would offer something akin to hope for all mankind, but let me tell you Miss Daae, that is not the case!"

I stared at Erik, in all the time that we had spent together, he had only turned his anger towards me one other time, which was when we had first met, and I had asked him to come out of the shadows. However, perhaps I had pushed him too far, but still I felt the need to know. I reexamined his words, and suddenly it all became clear.

"This is about your mask. Isn't it." I said carefully.

Erik's eyes still held anger, but beneath them I could see anguish too. Clearly his past held demons, ones that had plagued him for a long time. Erik seemed to finally relent.

"Yes. And here I thought you to be different."

Erik turned away again and walked towards his chambers. He entered and didn't come back out. I took a seat on the love seat that was near the still raging fire. Contemplating what he meant by me, being different. True, I had never asked about the mask ever in all of the time that we had known each other, knowing that it was likely a touchy subject, one that I didn't have any business knowing. But still after all of this time, I thought we had built up trust and I believed that he could trust me, perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps we didn't have as much trust in each other as I was led to believe. Knowing that I was stuck here until Erik decided to take me back, as I was never very good at navigating the catacombs, I decided to go towards my own room that Erik had dubbed as mine while I was here. I got up and closed the door.

I woke up, not knowing what time it was but I could hear the faint sounds of the organ. Erik must have come out of his chambers. I got up and got myself ready for the day and came out of my own chambers and sure enough, Erik was there sitting at his organ playing what sounded like a dark melody. I sighed, perhaps I had pushed him too hard, maybe I should have just left well enough alone. I walked out and found that a spread had been left out on the table. There was what appeared to be some bread and cheese, along with tea that was still hot. I smiled a little, then again, maybe I hadn't destroyed things too much. I sat at the table and began to eat. Erik, if he noticed me didn't comment and continued to play. Finally finished eating, I got up and made my way over. I stood and listened for a while before Erik finally spoke up.

"Good morning."

Perking up, I replied with the same. "Good morning."

Wait, did he say morning?! Oh no! I was late! Madam Giry would have my head!

"Erik, I'm late! Can you take me back up?!"

Erik, however, simply stood and managed to get my attention in my haste.

"Christine, I have already delivered a letter, telling Madam Giry that you will be absent from rehearsal today."

I stopped short. I knew that with Erik being the Opera Ghost he often delivered letters which contained his demands. However, no one knew that I had been associated with the resident Opera Ghost. In the last three years Erik and I had always met at night and never had we gone over the allotted time for which I would sneak back to the dormitories without getting caught. What was I to do? It was now likely, that everyone knew that I was "involved" with the Opera Ghost.

"Erik, please tell me you didn't! No one knows that you and I are affiliated. What will Madam Giry do now that she knows?" I asked franticly.

"Christine, Madam Giry has known about this for quite some time. In fact, she has always known." Erik replied.

I stopped short when I heard that. Madam Giry? She had always known that I would sneak out and go to secret rendezvous with the resident Opera Ghost? She had never said anything, in fact with her being as strict as she is I am surprised that she even allowed for such a thing! Still confused, I looked at Erik wanting— no, needing answers.

"Erik, what…?" I was cut off by Erik holding up one of his gloved hands.

"Christine, I believe that it is time that I told you the truth. Come sit, this will take a while." Erik said.

I looked at him still confused but found myself following him and I took a seat. I looked at Erik who held a look of impassiveness, but I could tell that he was nervous by looking into his eyes. I also noticed a box by his side. Deciding not to question it I just sat and remained silent. Sighing, Erik began to speak.

"Madam Giry and I had met many years ago. However, before I get to that, I should like to start from the beginning. When I was born in 1734, I was born with a very severe facial deformity. A deformity so horrible that not even my own mother could look upon me without disgust and didn't even take the time to name me as she believed that I wasn't worth naming. She in fact locked me away from the world, believing that was all I was good for. Granted she had sent in nursemaids to attend to me, but she never took the time to raise me. I was always taken care of by someone else. It was as if the thought of having to look at me was too much for her to bear. Many of the nursemaids who were sent to look after me were just as cruel as she was. They often laughed at me and mocked me for being the spawn of Saten. You can imagine that this was not the best environment for a growing child. However, there was one person who I remember as being kind. An old priest had been hired to come and teach and educate me. When he found out that I bared no name, he decided that not only would he christen me with a name, but he would also baptize me as well. That was how I got the name Erik. My last name comes from my father, but since I never knew him, I opted to just call myself Erik.

That was the first time that I was given even a shred of compassion. The old priest had treated me as if I was no different from anyone else, he educated me on various topics and even nurtured my love for music. He often would bring me something new to play on the old piano that was in the cellar that was my room. However, before that compassion could lead to anything else, it was ripped from me. Suddenly one day, the old priest didn't come for my daily lesson, however I didn't think much of it. Yet, when nearly a month had passed with no appearance from him, I began to wonder if he had fled from me too. By the time my nineth year rolled around I had all but given up hope that the old priest would come back. Knowing that I would only continue to be berated and mocked I decided to leave my childhood home– if you could call it that and escaped into the night. I at first had gone towards the old church looking for the old priest to hopefully get an explanation. However, when I got there, I quickly found out, that the old man had died. Feeling as though that God never wanted me to be happy, I turned and started to run. I didn't want to go back to my prison, so I began to run away.

For weeks I traveled on foot and managed to hide in old wagons when I could. Finally, I found myself just outside of Paris. By that time, I had become a master at stealing and thieving, especially when it came to food. One night I stumbled on an encampment. I wandered around looking to see if there was some food that I could snatch or some valuables that I could steal to sell. I had managed to sneak up on a few sleeping individuals and grab a few baubles and trinkets that I thought might fetch a decent price. However, I hadn't seen any food. Just as I was about to leave, I could smell something cooking from one of the nearby tents. I managed to sneak in and found a huge spread of food. I made sure that it was clear before I rushed in grabbing as much as I could carry, however before I could get away, I was caught.

I found out that the encampment was a band of gypsies and when I was brought before the voivode, or leader, he found me interesting, so interesting that he believed I would make an excellent addition to their carnival. However, it was never me that he was interested in. No, he was only ever interested in my deformed face.

From there I was taken and placed in a cage. The person who was 'my keeper' for lack of better term was a cruel man, one that preyed on my own fear. My mask that I had managed to craft was taken from me, and instead an old sack was placed over my head. I had become the newest attraction known as the devil's child. I was locked up with the encampment for several years, four if I remember correctly. In that span of time, I was beaten and humiliated so often that any compassion that I had quickly turned to anger and resentment. For crowds, I would be beaten and then the sack that covered my face would forcibly be removed.

However, one day we came back to Paris and as usual there were crowds of many people. One of those crowds of people was a group of ballet students who had come to see the carnival. Among those in the ballet group, a young Madam Giry was there. My 'keeper' had beckoned the group to see the devil's child. And as it was the same routine, I would be beaten and then have the bag over my head forcibly removed. However, while all the others would laugh at me and mock me, Madam Giry did not. She instead looked at me with something akin to pity. But, by that time I was past the point of accepting the pity of others. That night as the group exited, something snapped inside me. I managed to secure a rope and used it to strangle my 'keeper'. Madam Giry had seen me do this, and instead of turning me in to the authorities who had come after me, she instead grabbed my hand and ran towards the Opera Populaire. She pushed me in through a hatch that led to the underground chapel and quickly guided me down these cellars. Granted she hid me from the world as my mother had, but instead of treating me as if I was someone less than others, she offered me kindness.

For many years she helped me, and over time I built my domain here under the opera house. I also managed to continue to educate myself and became a master musician as well. Among other things I also learned architecture and dabbled in various other crafts. However, after nearly three years of living under the opera house I decided that I wanted to see the world. By that time – 1750, I was about 16 years of age. So, I decided to leave the opera house for a short time. During that time my travels took me all around the world. Eventually when I did return for a short time back to the opera house, I had gained the attention of the Paris Brotherhood. They had approached me one night when I was out gathering more supplies. They offered me the chance to become a recruit, by then around 1752, I was 18 years of age, and it was at a perfect time where I could still be trained and indoctrinated. I eventually agreed to their proposition, and from then on, I worked for the Brotherhood. I had learned that there were people who would see to the destruction of our world, and it was with this, that after I had been indoctrinated into the Brotherhood, I was sent on a mission that took me overseas to the middle east. I was tasked with gaining the favor of the Shah of Persia to only end up killing him, as he was a known Templar operative. It was during my time in Persia that I learned the art and craft of using the Punjab Lasso. I found that I liked the use of it so often that I made it my chosen weapon.

However, during my time in Persia, I was met with many obstacles. While I did end up gaining favor with the Shah, I ended up becoming his entertainer and architect. Yet it had never been truly for the Shah. Rather, it was for his blood lusting mother the Shahbanu. She ended up hiring me to create a torture chamber one that with the use of magic and illusions would cause the victim to suffer delusions of his mind before he died. While I did carry out the task to avoid suspicion, I was also made personal Assassin for the Shah as well. He used me to kill his own enemies which at first, I didn't want to do. However, in order to keep my favor and gain his trust before I could kill him, I did as I was instructed. Before long I was given a name by his people. They called me the Angel of Death.

I worked as his Assassin for a year, however, one day I was informed by the Daroga, or chief of police in Persia, that I would be sentenced to death, as the Shah and Shahbanu believed that I was disposable and thought that should I leave, I would know too much. I knew that this would be the time to make a move. So, that night I managed to sneak into the Shah's chambers and killed him quietly. Knowing that I would need to also kill his mother I made my way towards her chambers and managed to kill her as well. After that, I went back to my own chambers, to gather my things and make a clean getaway. The Daroga, who had been assigned to me during that time had agreed to help me get away as I had helped him once. While I did manage to make a clean getaway, I later found out that the Daroga had been found guilty of treason in helping me escape and he was thrown in prison for five years before he was released.

After returning here, I informed the Brotherhood that I had completed the mission and resigned from active duty. During my time in Persia, many scars had been left. I felt that I needed time to recuperate from the experience. That is when I decided to become the resident Opera Ghost. I ended up feeling the need to gain control over something for once and when I began to figure out that the Opera House was in danger of closing, I decided to set forth my expertise and attempt to turn this place around. However, I knew that I wouldn't be accepted due to my mask, so I instead created the Opera Ghost persona. I ended up never working for the Brotherhood again until an Assassin from the British Brotherhood had been assigned here. The Brotherhood had come asking me to help them in this mission. By that time, I had had about a year to recuperate from my experience in Persia. I agreed but on the condition that I would only be helping with this mission and then I would hang up my robes for good. Christine, the Assassin that was sent here, was your father."

My breath hitched. All this time, Erik had been a former Assassin for the Paris Brotherhood. It all made sense, why he knew how to teach all of the weapons and how he managed to maneuver around the Opera House. But that meant that he had known before we even met that I was the daughter of an Assassin, and he didn't think to mention that small fact? How could I have been so blind? Perhaps I had been so caught up in my own revenge plot that I didn't take the time to figure that perhaps my own friend had—. I stopped short. Were we friends? As far as I knew, friends didn't keep secrets like this for years, and friends didn't keep the fact that they had known your now dead father a secret. Perhaps we were more acquaintances. However, that wasn't the only thing. I remember my father often telling me of his time in Paris. He looked back on it fondly. He even mentioned that the man that he worked with was perhaps one of the best Assassin's that he had the pleasure of meeting. But the question still lingering in my mind is why? Why keep this from me? I was broken out of my reverie when Erik spoke up once more.

"Christine, before you came here, you had received a letter. Do you remember?" Erik asked.

I nodded, not trusting my words at the moment.

"That letter, while it was sent by Madam Giry and penned in her hand, was actually sent on my order. You see, about six months before you had even received it, I had gotten a letter, from an old acquaintance, one of few. The letter stated that they were looking to see if perhaps I would be willing to help train someone in self-defense. The letter had also stated that it was the dying wish of a friend that their child be trained by one of the best so that someday they could be indoctrinated into the British Brotherhood. The acquaintance that I speak of is Monsieur Velaris.

When Madam Giry, in the letter she wrote, mentioned your father, she wasn't the only one who knew him. In fact, when your father was here, I was the one to introduce him to Madam Giry. One day I was around the Opera House when I heard your father speak of you. He had said that you had the voice of an angel and if given proper training could also become a good asset to the Corps de Ballet. This needless to say had caught Madam Giry's attention and she had told your father that she would keep you as a prospect in mind for when you would become of age to join the Corps de Ballet, and perhaps the Chorus line.

I had asked your father more about you and he also had told me that if he should ever have you sent in for training for the Brotherhood, he would prefer that I take over you're training over the people in England. However, I had never told him that after this mission with him I would no longer be working for the Brotherhood. Yet He believed that I was the most qualified. I still however, believed him to be crazy if he thought that I would be an appropriate mentor for you. However, when word reached me that your father was dead, I decided that perhaps he had meant what he said. Receiving the letter from Monsieur Velaris only confirmed my suspicions. So, I went to Madam Giry and explained that I wanted her to offer you an invitation to come to train in the Corps de Ballet, and Chorus line here at the Populaire. While it was true that I did want you to come here to nurture your talent and perform on stage, I also had other plans. Plans to teach you and to train you as your father requested of me. Besides, the least I could do for your father was help him train you to be an Assassin. In the small amount of time that I had known your father, he never once mocked me or ridiculed me for my facial deformity, he in fact was the first person to ever see me without my mask and not run in fear."

Erik turned and brought out the box that he had at his side and handed it to me.

"These were sent to me when Monsieur Velaris requested that I train you."

I took the box from Erik and opened it. I gasped. Inside were my father's twin hidden blades. After the funeral, I had never questioned where they had gone too, as I was too stuck in my grief at the time. However, I had never known that they had been sent away. Part of me believed I should be angry. Angry that they were taken from me without even consulting me, but part of me believed that perhaps it was for the best. It was common knowledge that Assassin's earned their hidden blades, and if I was given them at the beginning, I would have likely attempted to use them before I was even ready.

"I know that you have several questions, but before you start asking or rather yelling them, I would also like to show you something." Erik spoke up.

I looked up at Erik who stood and offered his hand. Deciding to be courteous, I placed my hand in his, and he led me towards another hidden room within the house, that I hadn't known about. He unlocked the door, and he gestured to me to go inside. He lit a few candelabras and that was when I saw it. There, placed on a mannequin were a set of Assassin's robes dressed up in red and black. I walked towards them completely in awe, almost forgetting that I should in fact be angry with Erik. However, all of that melted away when I saw the robes that I would don. Finally coming to my senses, I decided to ask the one question that was plaguing my mind.

"Why?"

Erik, who was still in back of me replied.

"Why what?"

I sighed and turned to Erik looking at him with unshed tears and partial anger.

"Why keep all of this from me? Keeping your past is one thing Erik, but keeping the fact that you are my mentor and are training me to be an Assassin? Why keep me in the dark? Why all of the secrets?" I asked, my tone tight and unmoving.

Erik sighed. "I believed that perhaps you wouldn't come if I wrote to you directly. I believed that you wouldn't accept me for who I am. For all you knew I could have been one of your father's enemies luring you."

"Do you really think me so shallow?" I asked.

Erik looked at me shocked.

"No! I think quite the opposite in fact. I believe that you, Christine, are the only other person who was willing to show me kindness when I stepped out as the Opera Ghost instead of as an Assassin's mentor. Believe it or not, I wanted to test you that night, that you asked me to come out of the shadows. When I heard you deny the falsified rumors and tell me that you looked with your heart, I knew that you were anything but shallow."

I nodded, seeming to understand Erik's reasoning. Suddenly, finding this all too much, I backed away and looked at Erik.

"I need some time to digest this. If you'll please excuse me." I said and quickly left for my room.

After Erik had revealed everything, I had found myself both grateful and also angry at it all. I never liked being lied to, and perhaps there was a good reason for it, but still so much of the trust that Erik and I had built over that period of time was shattered in the span of one day. For several weeks I opted to distance myself from Erik and simply claimed that I needed to step away from my training. Erik had seemed to understand and didn't put up much of a fight. However, several weeks turned into months, and months ended up turning into a year. During that time, I still kept my skills up to par and I trained, but I did so outside of the Opera House. Finding that I didn't much care to continue to live in the dormitories I decided to rent a little apartment near the Opera House with the meager money I earned from being in the Corps de Ballet. It was there that I continued to train at night after rehearsal. I managed to sneak in a few props and also started to begin working with my father's hidden blades. However, one evening I was training, and I suddenly broke down. I found myself missing Erik and the friendship that we had held. But, by that point, the one thing that I found that I was missing the most was music, more than ever. It was then that I felt it. I felt the pull to sing once again. It was then that I knew that I needed to end this charade once and for all. I needed to heal, I needed music, I needed … Erik.