Before the Phantom

A Quest

As it turns out, and as little Nadette soon discovered, sneaking up on somebody in the forest is not helpful in trying not to frighten them. It also isn't very easy. Within the first few steps she was crackling leaves and breaking twigs. So, logically, she decided to go back along the banks of the creek. This was much more effective.

As she journeyed practically soundlessly on, she realized something else.

Now, she could not hear the crying over the sound of the water! However was she to find the poor soul if she could not hear them?

So she began to clamber back up the banks, soiling her stockings with mud as she did so, and found that she did not have to worry about finding the distressed person anymore.

He had found her.

Peering over the edge of the bank with a slightly startled look on his face was a boy. He seemed to be attempting to put on a brave face, but didn't quite know how to go about doing that. So instead, he went for the cryptically quiet approach.

Nadette decided it was most definitely not the widow. She ceased her ascent and quickly assessed the boy. He had to have been quite a few years older, and he was definitely a great bit taller. Why, he was almost a man! Perhaps this was not the mysterious crier after all.

Yet, as her eyes studied his face - at least the half that was uncovered - she saw the distinct trail of tears running down his cheek.

She waited for him to say something. Didn't he know that the man must always introduce himself first?

It appeared not.

"Erm, Hello monsieur. Why are you crying?" The girl asked brazenly, her head tilted slightly.

"I wasn't." He said simply.

"Yes you were!" She shot back, "I heard you only a moment ago!"

"You are mistaken!" The boy argued back.

Nadette was shocked to say the least. Had this boy no sense of decorum? No manners?

"I am not!" She shouted.

"Yes you are!" The boy yelled back.

She stamped her foot, splashing mud on the hem of her frock.

"I AM NOT!"

"Well nobody would believe you anyway." The boy muttered.

Nadette was beginning to become upset in earnest, and she blinked away angry tears as she replied. "It doesn't matter! I shan't tell a soul about you! You aren't anybody of interest anyway."

The boy stayed silent. His fingers fumbling with the hem of the torn shirt he wore.

Nadette decided that she would try being kind again, like Mama had said. She didn't know what this boy has been through, and anybody this angry must have a reason for it.

"How old are you, monsieur?"

"I'm not sure. Somewhere around thirteen."

Nadette nodded, "I am only eight."

"You're only a child!" He exclaimed.

"Well, so are you!" She shot back.

"Yes, but I'm an older child!"

"I think it hardly matters." She mumbled, slightly defeated.

She looked away from the boy, and was startled to see the sun beginning to set through the trees!

"Oh! I have to go! Mama will be furious if I am late!" Nadette explained, looking back toward the boy.

"Oh... alright." He answered simply.

As he turned to walk away, his shoulders hunched and his head hung low, Nadette's little heart broke for him.

"Wait! What is your name, monsieur?"

He turned slightly, glancing at her.

"What's yours?"

Nadette sighed, "My name is Tabatha Nadette, but I like to be called Nadette."

"That's not a very French name." He remarked.

"I'm not a very French girl! I'm from Germany. Your name?" She pressed.

He hesitated, though she didn't know why.

"It's Erik."
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So, by a few explanations I mean like, one.  Some of Erik's backstory is my own take on how I believe his childhood was like, since we don't actually get a lot of insight to it.  His age is slightly modified, and... yeah that's it.

Kate