News from the harbour arrived in Aegeus's ears before the past night deepened.
The last voyage to peace was just days away, and they had to settle on their final decision. But before taking a leap, the old fisherman woke up at dawn to travel to the harbour to see whether such news was true and not some folk's withered tale. If such were never farce, he planned to immediately gather some rations for them when they began to sail.
"May this be our salvation from this damn place." He sadly besought as he left the house with baskets in both hands.
When the light came in for the morning, Elpida rushed to prepare breakfast before chores were done. Morning gratitude almost escaped her lips, but then she realised that no more were those gods who would foresee them. And then there goes her sorrow and fret, wavering in her head. "Oh, what will happen to us now?" She pondered. "This land no longer felt like home, but more of a prison. What would happen to our foundling?" She thought deeper into the possibilities as she remembered the mysterious maiden still slumbering in her makeshift bed.
After breakfast, neatly placed on the table, Elpida carefully woke up her sleeping foundling. The moment she saw her face, the darkness dispelled from her head. There was no worry, but a momentary peace upon witnessing how calm her sleeping maiden was. "We are blessed to have you, my dear." She whispered as she carefully woke her up by caressing her hair. "Now, rise and shine for the morning is upon us." There was a little whimper from the maiden, and with more soft taps, her eyes slowly flickered, revealing her lovely silver eyes. "Good morning, my sweet."
The foundling, still dazed from her sleep, fluttered her eyelashes as she cleared her sight. When the clouds were gone from her vision, Mama Elpida's face illuminated amidst the blur, brightening the first seconds of her morning as she smiled at her.
"Oh, look at that pretty face! Who knew such a dear could give warmth on this gloomy day?" Elpida playfully praised. "Now, my dear, can you say kaliméra? Let us greet the morn with glee. I want to hear you say kaliméra."
Silver-eyed stared at her as she studied her lips.
"Pray, do say kaliméra," Elpida repeated, this time it was slower and more pronounced.
She looked again at Mama Elpida's mouth, trying to emulate every syllable and diction. "ka—" She suddenly began to speak.
There was a pause as the poor little foundling was mouthing what was said. With such grace, Elpida encouraged her and once more, said the word in the slowest yet understandable way. "ka—li—mé—ra."
"ka—" Followed the foundling, with a voice as soft and fragile as a snowflake. "ka—li—ka—lim—kaliméra."
Once she heard her, Elpida's heart exploded with joy. She never understood why she wanted to cry, but she was so proud of her foundling that she embraced her and kissed her temple. "By the grace of Olympus! You are beginning to talk! Wait until your Papa Aegeus comes back."
"Pa—pa—" The foundling copied, making Elpida prouder than before.
"Yes, yes!"
"Papa… Kaliméra…" She looked at her Mama Elpida, seeking validation of whether what she said was correct.
Joyous with her improvement, Elpida cupped her cheeks and told her, "You did well, my dear. Let's pause our lesson and eat breakfast first. Are you hungry? Come now and let us fill our belly with nourishment."
Sympathetically nodding, the foundling obeyed Elpida's command.
***
"Ah—such news I have indeed." Old Aegeus sighed contemptuously while balancing baskets full of necessities in both hands. "It is then true that the last voyage is upon us. Tsk, tsk—we must prepare!" And with aged feet, he mustered the energy and bolted back to his quaint house after recalling the news he had just learned.
Once back in his home, radiant smiles greeted him.
"Well, I never expected such warm grins." He said, smiling back at Elpida and their foundling little maiden.
"ka—kali—mé—ra!" Greeted the fair maiden with a struggle yet matched with sincerity that was visible in her silver eyes.
And with such a greeting, old Aegeus felt glee—elated to see that the once poor little foundling was now smiling and talking.
Talking! Who knew she recovered that quickly?
"Oh, dearie! Kaliméra! Kaliméra, little foundling!" Aegeus joyously responded and embraced her tightly. "You can finally talk! May the spirit of the gods always be with you!"
"The morning is such a surprise, my darling." Elpida, who also embraced him and then the foundling, said. "Our young lady is finally talking!"
"Did you teach her?" Aegeus inquired as he delivered baskets full of goods to their dining table.
"Yes—but I never thought she would follow. No sooner, she will be muttering little phrases, followed by sentences, then a little story… And then who knows, maybe she might sing to us?"
Silver eyes then glistened from what Mama Elpida said. "Sing—" Little Foundling mumbled, surprising her adoptive parents again.
"Oh, my dearie!" More elated, Elpida lightly squealed. "Yes—sing! Sing like the birds that once flocked in our little yard. Sing like the nightingale I used to hear before bedtime." Elpida stated as her old yet gentle hands cupped the cheeks of the foundling once again, looking through those silver eyes that showed potential, though still no tale to tell.
"You know about singing, dearie?" Papa Aegeus inquired. "It's like talking but more magical."
"Sing." The maiden repeated.
"Yes—just like your Mama Elpida said, like those of the nightingale tweeting before we sleep." The old man told her, matched with a light chuckle.
She looked at her Papa Aegeus and Mama Elpida, blinking her eyes, curious about what they meant. Yet as soon as she was free from her old mama's arms, she suddenly began to sing.
A still astonishment began to shape in both of the old couple's faces when they heard their foundling sing. Her voice was light, as airy as a feather. She treaded no ill sound, for her melody was sublime like the voices of heaven itself.
"Night, I came and wandered around
The bitter winds kept coming, and with me inbound
I shed many tears
I came face to face with fear—
Oh, gone were those days when gallantry became of me
How can love do this
And had turned me weak?"
It was like some enchantment came upon them—as if the foundling had bewitched them, not failing in surprising her mama and papa with her abruptness. Her silver eyes darted at them, wondering how they looked at her like she was something out of the ordinary.
"In Zeus's name!" Exclaimed Papa Aegeus, who remained in a state of shock. "That voice—"
"Oh, what more mystery you will soon unfold, my dearie?" Said Mama Elpida as her eyes lit up with tears of joy that threatened to roll on like a droplet of morning dew. "By the gods, you are something special." She then added, opening her arms to her for an embrace. The foundling accepted such warm affection.
"Was that a lullaby, my dear?" Asked Papa Aegeus while stroking her hair.
"Sing—" The foundling responded, smiling cheekily at him and then at Mama Elpida. "Sing, sing!"
"Yes, my sweet, you are singing. You sang so beautifully!" Elpida squealed and delightfully kissed her forehead. "Such a surprise you have given to us. Pray, tell us or show us what you can still do?"
"Sing!" She boasted, giggling like a little girl.
"I guess Glaucia loved to sing before the incident," Aegeus stated all the while thinking deeply, adding more possibilities to the foundling's past.
However, as her old husband lingered in his silent soliloquy, Elpida's ears perked up when she heard what her husband said. "Glaucia?"
Interrupted from his thoughts, Aegeus looked at her and answered, "Well, silver eyes like the stars and bright like the moon's halo. Silver like the owl goddess's eyes—may her soul be in peace. Something just inside of me told me that name suited her."
"And it suited her perfectly, darling. Our little Glaucia—a mystery but more of a gift bound in silver light."
With her Mama Elpida's warm remarks, Glaucia, the mysterious beauty with the naïve silver eyes, smiled.
It was a sight to see his wife and their adopted daughter in such a loving embrace, likening it to a light that slowly came into their home, contrasting them amongst the backdrop of menacing greys and blues.
Later, when night came, Aegeus told Elpida that the ships bound for the new colony would dock four days later. He even told her that this voyage would be the very last, never to return to Hellas. The conversation became tense, sensing the old woman's hesitation to leave.
"What do we all say about 'taking a leap?' We should start from here!" Aegeus reminded her.
"Oh, I know, Aegues! But this house," Elpida's voice gradually revealed the mourning in her voice. "This house is a living testament to our family. Our daughter's memories are here."
"I know—I know what you mean. But what is there for the future if we put ourselves in constant stillness and remain in the past? Loosen up your ties, my dear and just hope for the best."
"How about the gods?" The old woman inquired, fighting the sorrow that was about to envelop her psyche. "What becomes of us then?"
"I cannot speak for the gods and had no answer where they are now, for I have no answer. But one thing I am certain, my dear, is another chance for as far beyond this dreaded land."
Elpida did not answer as she sulked in her thoughts.
Seeing the frown on her face, though she had no understanding why it was so, Glaucia reached a hand to her Mama Elpida, kneeled before her, and comforted her, to which her mama responded by forcing a smile and clasping her soft hand in between hers.
"Oh, this is nothing, my sweet. Your old mama is just reminiscing. This house has been the sole witness to our family: from the moment your Papa Aegeus and I got married, from my daughter's conception, her birth, and up to the moment we got older, and had to wed our daughter to the man she loved. Yet, since the tragedy, the gods are no more, my dear, and we are left to our own devices." She gently told her as she raised her chin and stared deeply into the silver orbs that were in observance of her.
"You will come with us, Glaucia." Her Papa Aegeus assured her. "You are now our family, and your future is our responsibility."
Those words were not fully absorbed by Glaucia, tilting her head like a curious pup and fluttering her eyelashes as she studied him.
"You should never fret, alright?" He added, "You are safe with us and we will help you with your necessities like clothes—all you have to do, my dear, is to take good care of yourself as we wait for our exodus to come."
Glaucia continued to stare at him and then leaned onto her Mama Elpida for comfort before she was excused to rest as they waited for dinner. Once the silver-eyed foundling left the room, Aegeus and Elpida continued to discuss the voyage they were about to embark on—planning what they needed to bring, rations to prepare, the animals to carry, and even wondering how Glaucia would feel about travelling far beyond.
Their old minds were now entangled and rolled like a Gordian knot, finding all the preparations quite laborious.
***
Those past days before their exodus were fully occupied. Not a second was spared as they readied their things, sorting through pieces of stuff for necessities they could bring to their voyage.
While hands were meticulously scouring through their belongings, Papa Aegeus and Mama Elpida never forgot their foundling, Glaucia. They taught her fundamental skills such as saying her name and theirs, uttering simple greetings, and even slowly introducing her to household chores, to which she never made any complaints. While helping prepare their meals, Glaucia seemed to enjoy humming the same melody to the song that surprised her old folks.
Glaucia was learning fast. In her eyes, a clear enthusiasm swam into those pools of lovely silver. To every instruction given to her by her dear old mama and papa, her ears perked up, and courage and eagerness flowed in her bloodstreams that framed her body.
She nodded to every task they asked her to do and diligently finished what needed to be done. In just a few days, Glaucia learned how to wash the dishes, neatly organise the bed after waking up, aid in her Mama Elpida's cooking, and even sweep the floor spotless. Regardless of the grey skies that blanketed them, the little home of old Aegeus became bright again since the day Glaucia woke up from her deep sleep. She became their happiness, the laughter that tingles the ears and warms the cold soul. With Glaucia's childish antics like teasing them, she turned the dreadful frown into a sunny grin.
Who could have wondered that such a lady, draped in uncertainties, became the light that ceased the darkness? Who could have wondered that this bubbly lady, who was all smiles while stirring the pot of soup, was the one who could make the gloomy mornings into something exhilarating?
The old couple could not stop smiling as they observed her. The two agreed that Glaucia was compared to a delicate rose slowly blooming into its full glory. A rose indeed for thorns were her past that hurt her—the past she could no longer remember but seemed to haunt her through her dreams as it clawed at her, causing her to wake up frantically. The nights were tiresome for Papa Aegeus and Mama Elpida as they tried to console their foundling. But blessed with patience and budding love for her, the moment she calmed down from her nightmare and returned to a peaceful sleep, all was worth it.
Also, in those past days of relearning about life, Glaucia even adopted strays—a three-legged puppy and a one-eyed kitten she found wandering around outside the house. For Papa Aegeus and Mama Elpida, there was never a dull moment whenever Glaucia woke up.
"Are you enjoying stirring the soup, Glaucia?" Papa Aegeus chuckled as he asked his adopted daughter. "Perhaps, the meat in there is already melted like butter."
"Oh, do not be silly, my dear—" Elpida then looked at the silver-eyed foundling, "Do not listen to your old papa, Glaucia. What you are doing is very good! You did well."
Glaucia giggled and let her Mama Elpida taste the soup she stirred for a minute. Elpida gladly accepted. After tasting, she found the soup well done and ready for consumption.
***
After all the preparations—with necessities and rations packed, with their two pet goats and the puppy and kitten tagging along, Aegeus and his family were ready for the voyage they were about to take.
Even before the colours of dawn broke the night sky, the little family journeyed to the harbour, bitterly leaving the place they once called home. Elpida could not look back since the emotions were raw; she might burst into tears and be prohibited from continuing the trip. Holding on to her inner strength, she moved forward and never dared to look behind, not even the slightest glimpse.
"A better future for us awaits, darling," Aegeus told his wife, hoping to ease her distress.
"Yes—and I hope we see our daughter and her family as soon as we dock on the new land." She made a faint grin with her head, daydreaming of seeing her daughter, her husband, and her young grandchildren. "I also cannot wait for Vivinna to meet Glaucia."
"Oh, Vivinna will be delighted." He guaranteed, remembering when their daughter was still young and always wanted a little brother or sister. Sadly, fate never permitted the couple to bear one more child. Somehow, even after the tragedy and what seemed to be unending grey skies and fires, a miracle came upon them in the form of Glaucia—the answer to their long-forgotten prayer. "Are you alright, Glaucia? Are your pets in good spirits?"
Glaucia smiled as she opened her bag and revealed her dear pets, the three-legged puppy and the one-eyed kitten.
"The goats are alright too. While we wait for the boat, let us feed our pets so they will not get sick."
She nodded and continued with their walk until they reached the harbour, just in time for the dawn to splatter her reds, oranges, and plums.