Masked face shrouded in a dark hood, the man made his way down the cobblestone pathway. The only thing that was on his mind was getting out of the winter cold and into his warmer house, at least until a shrill stopped him dead in his tracks. He quickly made sure that his hood still covered his face before peering around. The cry had been weak and seemed to beg for help. The man finally discovered that the sound was coming from an unmoving body on the streets. It was almost a given that you would see corpses huddled up in a corner, but he had never experienced something of this degree.
Curiously he moved over to the body and bent down to investigate. It was most certainly a woman, and it seemed that she had been dead for a short while. Still, he could hear the crying and he searched for the source. His eyes caught on a small hand curled in a fist and his breath was knocked out of him. The poor woman had been trying desperately to warm up the child. How could she just sacrifice her life for a child? Was this a manifestation of a mother's love..?
Without a second thought, Erik picked up the kid, made sure that woman was truly dead, and hurried to his house.
---
She had rather pretty eyes to look at, but he had no idea what to do but stare at her. As soon as they had gotten home, he had changed the blanket that was wrapped around her tiny body and had started to warm up the milk. Ayesha had watched from her spot, following him from room to room as he rushed to save the child from further suffering. He now had nothing to do but wait for the milk to finally become warm enough. He would probably contact the darago. He had raised his son for a few years on his own. He might be able to give Erik a few tips...
With the small child nestled in the crook of his arm, he walked over to the kitchen and stopped heating the milk. Erik looked down at the baby before slowly realizing that he didn't have a bottle that would be suitable. In his haste to get home, he had completely forgotten everything else. Maybe he could hurry and buy something...?
When she made an irritated sound, he knew that she wasn't going to wait to be fed before she started wailing.
"I could really use Nadir right now..." he murmured as the little girl began making a hiccuping sound. Not wanting to know that he was the primary cause he found the dropper, he readjusted the infant and carried her back to the kitchen. Now he was patiently feeding the baby, giving her a few drops at a time, since he was deathly afraid of her choking. Soon enough, the child had drifted off to sleep and Erik glanced at the half-full container of milk left over. He spilled the rest of it into Ayesha's bowl, which the Siamese snootily ignored, and cradled the baby, making for the guest room. He built up a small barrier to prevent the child from moving too much. As soon as he was done with this task, he expectantly watched the child to see if she would do anything more...
Ten minutes passed before he decided that he was done with that task. He quickly ran to his room to fetch his papers and a pen before heading back to the guest room. He tried his best to make his writing legible as he stroked the page with red ink.
---
The thirty-seven-year-old--some only knew and addressed him as the Persian--headed down the hallways of the opera house. Every few days, he would return here--never mind if there was an opera or not--to check up on his old friend. He was well aware that the managers were rather perplexed, and the ballet girls thought that he was only around for either a certain lady or ill intent; for this reason, the man stuck to more isolated parts of the building. His hands stealthily moved in and out of every hidden compartment that Erik had included in the design of the opera. It had taken him many years to grasp Erik's wild intellect and tricks, and he knew that he would never have a full understanding but he tried his best at doing so. When his hand caught on paper, Nadir pulled it out and inspected it. Immediately recognizing the dark red child-like scrawl, he unfolded the paper and quickly read the contents
