The Phantom Ascending |✔| [Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction]

The Piper's Call

Christine

Dearest Meg,

I hope you and your mother are doing well. You might wonder why I write to you so soon after sending my last letter, but it would be best to blame it on holiday loneliness. Perhaps if I hadn't changed my plans just days before Christmas, I would now be with one of my friends from La Fenice... Alas, there is no use wondering now.

Despite my successful run as Titania, I grow weary of this place. As magical and romantic as it was in summertime, in winter Venice is a gloomy, foggy town. Perhaps Raoul made all the difference. Perhaps I just miss snow. I will soon make my way to the north-

The pull of the doorbell at the main entrance interrupted me, and I hurried down to open the door.

"Signora Daae, what is the meaning of this note?" Manelli stormed in, his graying hair ruffled from the wind.

"Oh. I am sorry, but I simply must leave Venice after all. In all truth, I sent you the note because I thought I will be on my way by now, but I couldn't find available transport on such short notice."

"Because it's Christmas Eve, my dear! Tell me, how can I change your mind? Would you wish to join me and my family for holidays? My sister won't mind another guest."

I shook my head.

"I am sorry..."

"I will give you three days before I accept your, shall we call it, resignation. If you are still here, come see me then. I will help you hire new help here," he waved around with his perpetually restless hands. "But if you do leave, I wish you best of luck," he warmly squeezed my shoulders in encouragement.

"Thank you."

"Now I must hurry or my grandchildren will be disappointed by the number of presents Saint Lucia brought them! And that reminds me - thank you for your lovely present, and this is for you," he pulled a small package from one of his bags.

"Buon Natale, my dear miss Daae."

"Buon Natale," I smiled. He was such a force of nature.

As soon as he left, I opened up my present. It was a small vase, made of painted Murano glass, and the circular picture on it represented La Fenice's auditorium, seemingly full of people. With it came a card: A small reminder that you have the power to hold the audiences in the palm of your hand.

Oh, Manelli! It would be difficult to leave this place, after all, and yet I had to.

Returning upstairs, I made a detour to check that the music room was locked. Its key hung by the master key on the chain around my waist - I was my own housekeeper now.

Living all alone was more difficult than I imagined. Having grown up in the chaos of the opera, I was unused to it, and now with everything that happened, moving through the empty house filled me with unease.

Back at the desk in my dressing room, I fought my anxiety by writing letters. I flinched at every little sound, but always found that they came from the streets. A few Zampognari - the traditional Italian pipers that played their flutes and bagpipes - were parading around San Marco sestiere these days, and I could hear them even now. The tune carried, mellow and persistent.

And slowly I realized that something was wrong. The tune I heard now... It was coming from inside my house.

"This isn't real. Just my nerves..." I whispered to myself, but didn't know what was worse: to imagine things or to have the Phantom visit me again.