|open| my dove

[Helena Au'cheveire]

The sound was not distinguishable, but it was quite unfamiliar in the silence of the early hours. The voice had a coo to it, the music in the air produced only by the miracle that was the human voice. It echoed through the hallways, as though carrying sweet memories on the bow of it, sweeping into the most dusty corners, and laying it's fragile, breakable light upon the floor... Much like the near-dead lantern of the lady who was singing.

With all respect,
The lady does recline
From whistles and bells
And jewels of mine.

The piece of music was slightly familiar, if you ever heard her composing it before. Or maybe you had even seen the beautiful handwritten words on the sheet of music that was handed over to the Orchestra to practice. This one was a pure violin piece, and would set an eerie sort of gloom upon the entire Opera House when the show was displayed. Of course, that was the point. To give the audience an amazing sense of wonder and mystery, and make them tremble in their seats at the Tenors, and the violinists.

Darkness falls only once a day,
Calling back the memories I've put away.
Here they cradle me softly,
Wiping away the tears I shed... and the heartbreak, the dread.

This was not the lady singer. That much was quite apparent. She was older, her brown hair falling over her shoulders as she walked quietly down the hallways, her voice like a beckoning siren, but she moved so much it was hard to keep track of her. An emerald dress wrapped around her tan limbs, strengthened by age and work, but looking at her you would not guess she was only four years from reaching the age of forty.

Amour, into the night I cling.
You've vanished from me.
Amour, I wish for you to sing.
My angel, my dove, my lovely thing..

She paused, gazing back at the dimly hit law. "You're scaring yourself, Helena." She spoke softly, in a mere whisper, because for a second she swore that it wasn't a hallway, but an alleyway. The memories that griped her near chilled her spine, and she knew she would not lay down tonight. So instead she walked onward, in that gliding motion that made her seem less human and more like a ghostly apparition than anything.

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[Marguerite Giry]

Once the rehearsals were finished, Meg, decided to track down the Opera Ghost. He knew her mother well, and she wanted to tell him that she is long gone. Though, she is forbidden down there, she still wanted to go down there. Meg, heard footsteps behind the curtain. Nothing else was planned for her.

"Hello? Someone here?" she asked curiously. Meg, looked around behind the sets and such, but no one was there. She had figured it was the Opera Ghost. But there was no response. Meg stayed still on the stage, holding her mother's black cane. Feeling the gold top of it with her fingers, she smiled.

It was a quiet morning, and she decided to keep walking about the stage, and she headed out backstage, and thought she saw someone move around. Meg, said nothing and kept walking until she found a woman hiding. "Will you come out please?" she asked curiously and kindly. "I will not harm you. I promise you that. Please will you step forword?" she asked kindly. Meg, gave the woman a smile and waited patiently.

[[Hope You Don't Mind]]