The Phantom's Legacy

Chapter 1: The Announcement

Paris, France 1896

Evangeline's POV

"Thank you. Thank you so much. You've all been too kind!"

I gently pushed my way through the crowds of patrons and into my dressing room, my feet aching from performing as The Queen of the Night in The Magic Flute all day. Placing the numerous bouquets inside a vase, I went behind my dressing screen and changed into a gold dress with brown stripes on the skirt (A/N: Dress is above). Looking around the room after getting dressed, I took immediate notice of a teapot and teacup sitting serenely on top of my vanity dresser, amongst my hair products, show wigs, and a family portrait we took when the children were younger.

In the small, black and white image, I was sitting in one of the chairs from the library, holding our fourth and final child, Antoine, in my arms while the twins stood at my side and our third child, Charlotte, sat near my feet . Erik was right behind me, his hand on the chair and a stoic expression behind his mask. Back then, Tia and Ozzie were 13, Charlie was four and Antoine was just 5 months old. Now, all of my children were grown. The twins are 24 and have left the house to go to college while 15-year-old Charlie and 11-year-old Tony have yet to graduate from their private school.

But tonight, all four of them will be together for a much-awaited family dinner.

Chuckling, I took a sip of the still piping hot tea, sitting down in front of the vanity mirror in order to take off my rather itchy wig and start to unbraid my cornrows.

"Erik, you can come down now. I already know you're here."

With a whoosh and a nearly silent thud, my masked husband gracefully leaped from the rafters and stood above me, his black, velvet cape covering most of his form as I peered at our reflection in my mirror. His once jet black hair had two streaks of gray running along his temples and though I have yet to start graying, I had the beginning stages of crow's feet and laugh lines.

Well, what did you expect at age 44 and 56? I thought to myself.

"It seems that I'm getting too old for this haunting business," Erik joked, placing a strong, gloved hand gently on top of my shoulder. I giggled, getting out of my seat to kiss the man I love.

"You did wonderful, as always, my dear." He complimented as he opened the secret door to the lair. "And I know that our children can't wait

Taking his hand, we strolled down the steep steps to where our old gondola was waiting and with a push from the staff, we were set a drift through the lake, opting to take the longer route towards our home so that we could continue to converse about the performance, what needed to be fixed and what new shows he wanted to bring to the Opera House.

As we neared out home, the formerly silent catacombs suddenly became alive with the sound of our neighbors saying hello from the houses and buildings that Erik made with his own hands.

"Watch your head, babe!" I called to him as we went under one of the newly built bridges that connected the recently paved roads like an underground version of Venice.

Unused boats and makeshift rafts lined the sides of the canals, and the streets became quieter as we finally made it home, our two younger children waiting for us in the drawing-room, a rather unusual feeling of intense excitement filling the air around us.

As we entered, a small boy rushed towards us, his skin the color of smooth peanut-butter and his hair a mop of black silk. Behind him was a little Yorkshire dog, yipping as she made her way towards us. 

"Mama! Papa! You're home!" Tony chirped, his lanky body gave us a hug, Peanut the Destroyer (or simply Peanut) still yipping and pawing at us to grab our attention.