Chapter 1 - Getting settled

“This will be your new home whilst you study, Miss...”

“Sun, Kerkera Sun.” I said.

I was about ten years old when I arrived at the Paris Opera House, already 5 foot, with long dark brown hair and the potential of a good figure. I normally wore a small blue chequered dress and a white blouse, with my hair tucked into two plaits.

“Well Kerkera,” smiled Madame Florie, `I hope everything you see and do in the Opera house is pleasant, and I trust that, in time, it will grow on you.”

“I hope so too,” I sighed, surveying the hall, with its many boxes and seats that rose almost up to the grand chandelier. It seemed a million miles away from my departed father's country house.

“Have you ever been in such a beautiful place, Miss. Kerkera?” asked Madame Florie, dropping her formal air to glaze with pride at the grand hall with it's beautifully patterned banisters and exquisite domed ceiling.

“I can assure you Madame,” I smiled, “I have not,”

“Nay,” continued the manger, “There is nothing quite like it,”

I watched the lady, her black hair pulled back from her face into a tight, neat bun, and her long black dress that shimmered in the spotlights.

“Have you lived her all your life?” I asked

“No,” smiled Madame, “But since I was a little older than you, twelve, thirteen. And I've had the pleasure of performing in it on a number of occasions. Never a main role though,”

I glanced up at this. The woman's face expressed a deep sadness.

“I'm sure you will one day,” I insisted,

“Thank you child,” smiled the mistress, “But I am able to lie to rest in the knowledge that the crowd shall never chant my name,”

I looked away, not wanting to see the sad smile on Madame's face. Instead, I continued to gaze about the stands. My eyes rested on the furthest box. It was different to the rest, the walls and furnishing a dark red, and the curtains so deep that they appeared black in a different light. Even the wood edging it was a shade or so darker than the rest. It had a foreboding and yet grand element about it. I tilted my head to stare at it more, when suddenly a face appeared where I watched. I had tried to cry out, but found my voice to be gone. The face, from what I could make out, had a Spanish quality, with thick black hair smoothed back from the face and a slightly chiselled jaw line. But the object that was most apparent, most noticeable, was the bright white mask that covered half of the man's face.

“Miss. Kerkera?” Madame's voice drifted in to clear my state.

“Pardon?” I choked, my gaze still fixed on the man in the box. Slowly, he raised a finger to his lips. Then, in a blink of an instant, he was gone. I blinked. What was that?

“Miss. Kerkera!” insisted the servant, “Madame. Florie requests that she takes you to your room.”

“Oh,” I said, tearing my eyes away from the spot, “Yes, al-alright,”

Madame. Florie was waiting patiently behind the stage backdrop as I came rushing towards her.

“I'm sorry Ma'am I was just… lost in the beauty of the place, forgive me,” I panted.

“There is nothing to forgive,” the mistress smiled, “As I've said before, it is the most beautiful place that could be seen by any, not just royalty. For, any person with talent, rich of poor, can make it into the Paris Opera House. And, by the sound of your father's death wish, and the words of your previous governess, you have a talent that could take you far.”

I shot her a look at the mention of my deceased father.

“I am sorry for your loss, Miss. Sun. Your father and I were dear friends.”

I looked at the floor as we walked through the many corridors and stairwells.

“I saw you looking at the far box, am I correct?” said Madame. Florie after a whiles silence, as we climbed the small wooden spiral staircase.

“Yes you did,” I smiled with a nervous laugh.

“I also assume that you noticed its individuality from the other?”

I nodded, not really wanting to answer. The man I'd seen had told me to stay quiet.

“It is where the Phantom sits.” Smiled Madame, opening a door into another low roofed corridor, holding it open for the servants who carried my luggage. Seeing my questioning face, she continued.

“It is said that a creature lives in this place. There are few who have seen him, and those who have speak of him as a devil's child. A man, shunned from society, with half his face mangled and deformed. He wears a mask that covers that part of his face. He walks the tunnels and caverns underneath the Opera house, listening to the music that we perform. When we hold a performance, he sometimes watches from that box,” Madame. Florie looked at me, “He knows, and sometimes orders, everything that happens here. The plays we perform, the singers and dancers we hire. Everything”

“How?” I questioned as we continued along the upper storey corridors. “How does a man that is hardly seen order a place as large as the Opera House? How does he order people who are not his to order? It makes no sense!”

“ He leaves us letters. We are left letters, with a large red skull on the seal. And if we go against his will, someone dies.”

I stopped and stared at her, “Madame?”

“Oh calm child.” She smiled at me, “I am sure that you are quite safe. I have a feeling that the Phantom will be pleased with you.”

She offered me her hand, which I hesitated to take. She led me through one last corridor, which was dimly lit by a few wall-mounted candles, until I finally saw a door.

“This will be your room,” she said, pausing outside the door, {“I would of put you with the other girls, but we had no more beds, or space, to spare. But I hope this room will be to your liking,”

She opened the door and I stepped over the threshold. It was also light by two wall-mounted candlesticks. The east and West walls were sloped because we must be near the roof. There was one window near the top of the slanted walls, which was letting a thin beam of moonlight enter the room and land on the bed. The bed was about two hands widths from the floor, covered in a patchwork quilt and white blanket. There was a simple rug, a mirror, and small chest of drawers for my clothes.

“It's…lovely,” I smiled. Alright, it was nothing compared to my bedroom back at my old home, but that was my past, this was home now, and will be for the rest of my childhood at least.

`I'm sorry that it's quite cold up here,“ sighed the Madame, “But it was the only other place we had. My room is just through the door at the end of the other corridor.”

“Thank-you,” I said, bowing my head as the servant placed my luggage at the foot of my bed.

“Breakfast is at half eight.” Continued the Madame; “You should wear the clothes that are already in the drawers, its standard uniform. For the first term you will act as a helper, to make sure you understand how a Opera House is run. After that period, you will be assessed with the other girl who is studying here to determine whether you are a performer or a servant,” She inclined her head towards the boy who had carried my things. I looked at him, in his loose shirt and brown trousers and his mousey brown hair flopped over his forehead.

“What's your name young sir?” I asked him.

He looked up at me in surprise.

“Mortimer, miss,” he said, bowing to me.

“What is your age?” I asked kindly, walking towards him,

“I'm thirteen, ma'am, nearly fourteen,”

“Nearly ready to go out into the world on your own, aren't you lad?” smiled Madame kindly.

Mort smiled and nodded, never taking his eyes off me.

“May I just say miss,” he said, his stare boring into my eyes, “That you have the most beautiful eyes, I have never seen any so dark and deep.”

I smiled and blushed, turning my face away, “You flatter me sir,”

“For a ten year old, you are remarkably mature,” he smiled, still looking at me intently.

“You are all manners and politeness Mortimer,” I smiled.

“Call me Mort,” he insisted.

“Thank you Mort,”

“Alright you two,” laughed Madame. Florie, “I think Miss. Kerkera has had enough excitement for one day.”

“Thank you for everything, Madame,” I bowed

“It's my pleasure. Now, get some rest, I expect to see you downstairs tomorrow, eight o'clock,”

“Yes miss,”

“Goodnight,” she said, turning and leaving.

“Goodnight, Miss. Kerkera,” smiled Mort, closing the door as he left.

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