Flashback
Paris
1859
26 years prior
Erik ran down the dark streets of Paris as fast as he little legs would carry him. His breathing was labored, his lungs burned and sweat glistened on his brow. His prize was clutched in his tiny hands and as soon as he was somewhere safe he would be able to reap the benefits. But at the moment the chase was still on and he could hear the men who were after him yelling and shouting for him to stop. He could not stop. If he stopped they would kill him for what he was; a thief. He had learned from a very young age that the only way to survive was to steal and be sure your legs could run in the likelihood that you were caught. But his body was exhausted from both lack of sleep and food. Days...weeks it felt like since he had had a morsel of food in his starving mouth.
For a boy of six summers he was extremely emaciated and had to weigh thirty pounds less then what a healthy boy his age should. But he had never been healthy. He could not remember what it felt like to have a full stomach and a warm bed where he did not have to worry about anyone hurting him. His mother had not wanted him, no one ever had. He had been left on one of the many streets in Paris when he was but four to defend for himself. He never knew why his mother did not want him but he no longer cared. He did not need anyone to look after him, he could do just fine on his own. He had lived on the streets of Paris for two years on his own and he knew he could do the same for the rest of his life!
His body was giving out on him. Erik was just to tired to continue. His mind was warring with his tired limbs, screaming at him to run or it would be his life. He did not want to die, even with his life the way it was. He knew there had to be something more to this world then what he had been given. Had to be. His eyes looked frantically around for some place that he might be able to hide, to rest, just for a few moments until the men had gone. Up ahead, illuminated by the glowing of a candle, a man and a woman were walking side by side, talking quietly to one another as they enjoyed their walk. Erik swallowed. He had never been good around people, but perhaps they would help him? Erik cursed his stupidity, no one had ever helped him before, why should now be any different? It wouldn't be. Erik continued running, until he was beside and then ahead of the couple.
"Boy! Stop!" the woman called. Erik turned his head to look at her as he continued running and he stumbled on his feet, effectively knocking him to the ground. The woman gasped and ran to him, the man not far behind her. Erik was trying to struggle to his feet but he realized it would be useless, he had snapped his ankle. He muttered several curses that a boy of six should not know and as the woman reached him and kneeled at his side, she frowned at such language. Erik took a moment to look at the woman who was suddenly at his side and for a moment he truly believed that he was staring at one of God's angels.
Chocolate curls framed her pale face and brilliantly blue eyes. Her features were delicate and feminine. She had finely arched brows and full lips that smiled down at him. He had never seen a woman more beautiful in his short life. Surely she had to be one of God's angels? Her dress was a startlingly green and obviously of the best quality. She had to be of a noble family. The man with her had dark skin and was obviously not French. Erik pulled away from her cool hand when she touched his ankle, causing him to wince.
"Oh, I am sorry! Does it hurt very bad?" she asked, her voice calm and soothing. Erik nodded.
"Emma, do you really think it is a good idea to talk to him?" the man said. The woman, Emma, glanced up at him with a disapproving look.
"Really, Nadir, look at him! He has to be only six years old and it looks like he is starving to death!" Emma said. Erik could not contain his whimper when he heard the shouts of the men coming closer. Emma's brow furrowed as she heard the men's shouts and she glanced at Erik.
"They are after you?" she asked gently. He nodded. Emma could not help it when her heart reached out for this young boy. His hair was matted and dirty and his clothes were closer to rags then anything she had ever seen. His skin was stretched tight across bone and she knew he must not have eaten in a very long time. The men finally reached them and Emma was appalled to see that they were carrying pistols. She stood up and faced them, a determined look on her pretty face.
"Give us the boy, Mademoiselle," one of the demanded. He was a rather fat man with sweat rolling off of him in streams. Emma stood her ground and Erik could only watch on in amazement.
"How can you draw your weapons against such a small child?" she demanded.
"He is not a child! He is the spawn of Satan! He has been terrorizing these streets for a couple of years now!" the man spat. Emma did not waver.
"Does he have something that belongs to you?" she demanded.
"Yes! He stole from me!" he growled. Emma went to Erik and once more crouched down beside him. Erik was nearly trembling. All of his sins were catching up to him, this nice lady was going to give him to this man and he was going to die.
"Open your hand, little one," Emma whispered. Erik stared at her for a moment. Her look was gentle and reassuring. Something about the way she looked at him told him not to worry. He opened his hand slowly to reveal the small apple he had been holding onto for dear life. She took it from him, even when he whimpered a protest.