Chapter 39: The Boy with the Bow Beside You

The faery beam upon you,
The stars to glister on you;
A moon of light
In the noon of night,
Till the fire-drake hath o'ergone you!
The wheel of fortune guide you,
The boy with the bow beside you;
Run ay in the way
Till the bird of day,
And the luckier lot betide you!

To the old, long life and treasure!
To the young all health and pleasure!
To the fair, their face
With eternal grace
And the soul to be loved at leisure!
To the witty, all clear mirrors;
To the foolish, their dark errors;
To the loving sprite,
A secure delight;
To the jealous, his own false terrors!

"The Gypsies Metamorphosed" from "The Songs and Poems of Ben Jonson" by Ben Jonson © 1924, London: Philip Allan & Co.

The child skipped ahead of her father, dancing further and further from his side.

"Take care, Christine, do not wander! You may become lost in the fog."

The child spun to look back at her father and the impish smile froze on her mouth. Her eyes darted about and her lips fell into a pouting frown.

"Papa? Please, do not hide. I do not care for this jest. Papa?"

She thought she heard his voice faintly calling her name, but she could not decide where to look. The fog deadened the sound, cloaking everything in strangeness.

"Christine?"

A young man's voice sounded near her ear causing her to trip and fall. She screamed as a swirl of black enveloped her and she lifted her hands to ward off an attack. Instead, she found herself gently righted.

"Are you all right, child? I did not mean to startle you. I am sorry."

The beautiful, yet familiar voice came from the center of the blackness.

"Who are you?" The frightened girl whimpered.

"That is of no importance." He paused and Christine felt eyes examining her. "What happened to your chin?"

The sudden question surprised the child and she answered without thinking.

"I tripped on a cobble and it opened up an old scar. The doctor had to sew it, but it is almost all the way better. I got six stitches and I did not cry. The doctor said that I am very brave."

A soft chuckle filled the air.

"You are indeed very brave, ma petite. This is the second time we have met and this is the second time you have hurt your chin. Perhaps, you need to take care when you are in the village of Perros-Guirec as it seems to have a dislike of your pretty little chin."

There was a sudden intake of breath from the girl as her words tumbled from her mouth.

"Hmmm ... did you say a second time? Are you the one? Are you the boy that helped me when I was little?"

He responded with another chuckle.

"When you were little?" He paused to suppress a laugh. "Well, yes, I suppose I am."

"I knew it!" She exclaimed and happily clapped her small hands.

Without a second thought she flung herself at the black shape as her impetuous nature won over her self-control. A sudden, hard whoosh of air left the form and it fell, coughing to the ground with the child landing on top.

"What on earth?" His surprised utterance came out in a breathless gasp.

The child giggled merrily and hugged the shape that soon proved to be that of a young man. The man struggled to sit up while the girl happily clung to him as she made herself comfortable on his lap. She snuggled closer and wrapped her little arms around him hugging him tight.

"I never got to tell you, thank you. So ... thank you!" She continued to giggle while holding him close. The young man, slightly unnerved by the unrestrained display of affection, gently attempted to extricate his body from the firm embrace.

"Uh, child, please! I can barely draw a breath. Can you loosen your hold just a wee bit?" He laughed.

The girl's grip relaxed and she pulled back to look at her savior. Erik watched as her eyes traveled up his chest, along his neck to stop at his face. To the child's credit, she neither cried out nor removed her arms from around his waist, but Erik did notice that her eyes became wide with surprise. He sighed inwardly.

"Once again my face comes between me and a friend. And I so hoped she would be different..."

His silent musing ended as her voice interrupted him.

"But, you are just a boy! I thought an angel saved me, but you are not an angel."

Erik watched her eyes grow serious. He unconsciously held his breath, awaiting her verdict.

Her smile returned to grace her face with its brilliance and she nodded to herself.

"I am pleased that you are not an angel. I do not think God would allow me to be friends with an angel and I definitely think we should be friends."

She leaned back and held out a small hand to Erik.

"Good evening, Monsieur, my name is Christine Daae. And what, pray tell, is your name?"

Erik felt an amused smirk form across his lips as a thrill of happiness washed through his soul. Clearing his throat, he took her hand in his, placed a small kiss on the back of her hand and replied.

"Well, a good evening to you too, Mademoiselle, my name is Erik Destler and I am most pleased to make your acquaintance."

The child blushed prettily and then cocked her head.

"Oh, listen! I do believe I hear my Papa calling me! You have saved me once again, Erik! Can you help me find my Papa, please?"