Parisian Opera House

[Vampire Toy]

There was an opera house in Paris in the 1760s. In 1762, Nicolas Flamel (then a four-hundred and thirty-five year-old wizard) was spotted at this opera house.

 

[Essy ze Ninja]

[Spring 2025]

The massive columns lined the mouth of the opera house in Paris, France. Hundreds of busy bodies clad in the latest Spring Fashion crawled in every direction, each one with a value of self-worth as high as the next. The grand architectural style of the Parisian Opera House boasted influence of the Second Empire with high masonry walls and concealed iron floors. The high noon sun glowed dim behind a flurry of white cumulus clouds, flocks of birds travelled high above and Remington waited at the base of the building shadowed behind an outline of foilage.

It was just like him, Tay thought, to arrange such cowardice in the eyes of the common people, the muggles. He stood strong in the town square. The natives spoke with rapid tongues in a language he couldn’t understand. He felt their eyes linger on him, knowing him and seeing him for the outsider he really was. He bristled at the thought and tightened his coat around his shoulders and strolled on.

Remington was a wreck. He had paced just outside of the building for the past half hour, fingers numb from the breeze and lack of blood flow even as he rubbed them together like two flints to a flame. Poisonous eyes lurched; he knew his nephew wasn’t so foolish, not in public, not with muggles, not with the Police Nationale so close. But he was ready; it was time to tell Tay everything.

Both men met with a deadly force, half lidded eyes and unspoken threats. It was an understood expectation that this, all of this, would end civilly. Neither men would do battle on this front, nor should they be tempted to do so. Remington was distressed, his fingers wove in the muscles of his face, wiping away at the corners of his mouth as he beckoned for the younger man to follow. Tay’s impatience led to their haste, and they meandered out of the direct entrance of the opera house and took a seat at a bench that faced the paved road.

”You look well,” Remington began simply enough. ”I trust you’ve fully recovered? Vascular instability, retinal bleeding, and musculoskeletal pains can’t be all it’s cracked up to be.”

”…My eyes only bled the first few days,” Tay, despondent with the choice of conversation, decided to wade in the waters anyway. He’d let his uncle direct the flow, feign the notion that he’s in control.

”Ah well,” he shrugged. ”All the better. I take it you can walk now, finally?”

”…I suppose.” He lamented. Neither a lie nor the truth, he’d rather be vague if he could. Tay wasn’t sure how long that would last though.

”….Well, I suppose you’ve seen all the memories then? Even the ones from the castle?” Remington paused, breath caught in the grit of his teeth. When Tay nodded, Remington sighed. ”Well, I’m sorry to say but they’re all lies too, but even I’m not sure what thos—“

”Ah, so this is your ‘clever’ ploy to try and right your wrongs, then?”

”Tay, I—“

”Oh no—you’re done talking, I’ve taken all I can from you, from this ******** family.” Steely eyed, his sharp tone began to rise in octaves, louder and louder. ”I saw it, you can’t lie to me. It was you! You killed her. Why!” He couldn’t sit still. Tay was on his feet, glowering down at him. Muggles in passing stopped to gawk in wonder, Frenchman had to wave their wives away to prattle back on down the street.

”Tay…” Remington had warned him, voice growling from the guttural depths. He felt like he was on pins and needles, any which way would p***k him, bleed him dry. ”Let me explain,” Remington raised both hands cautiously as he stood, trying to reason with him. ”It’s not true,”

”You <********> her.”

”Okay, some of it is true..”

”Oh—burn in Hell!”

”Dammit, Tay, listen to me! I didn’t kill her!” Remington just barely managed to scream before a pair of cold hands wrapped around his throat. ”She’s alive!”

The people stopped to stare now. The violence boiled. Both Englishman felt the tension weighing heavily. Tay glanced over his shoulder, just long enough to catch the white of their eyes on him before the crowd dispersed once again. ”Don’t ******** lie to me.”

”She’s alive, Tay. I can prove it…. I’m sorry.”

”You don’t get to apologize anymore, Remington. That’s over.”

”…..you’re right. You’re right… I’ll explain everything. I will. Just give me time, I’ll make the arrangements, I’ll take you to her.” He spoke slowly, carefully. As if redemption would ever grace him again. ”But she won’t remember you, Tay. You won’t… You won’t be happy with what you see.”

But Tay wouldn’t hear of it, wouldn’t even give it a chance. He shook his head and walked away down the street, flooded now with the promise that all he’d ever had, all he’d ever known had always been a lie and nothing more.