Post by Rhoda Kallithéa on Oct 17, 2008 13:30:21 GMT -5
It was just before the supper hour when I finally knocked on the door. It had been a long trip, and I sincerely hoped that this was the last leg of my search. I had been looking for my father for close to a year now, and it had been two years since I had left home for Tiberium. Now I was on a small island off the coast of mainland Hellas, in a small trading town, praying that this would be it.
The door opened after a moment, an older lady in a spattered apron looking up at me. “Yes?”
“I’m looking for Nikolaos Kallithéa,” I said, the hard-earned name like a gem on my lips.
She looked me over, taking in my travel stained clothing before her gaze rose to my face. Then her eyes widened. “Pallus Athene,” she whispered. “Yes of course, come in.”
Hope beat like the wings of a frantic bird in my chest as she led me inside, but I held on tight to the emotion. I had experienced too many moments like this in my hunt to truly let myself hope. She led me through the house, the smells of dinner making my stomach growl and my mouth water, and we paused at a door.
“Master,” she said, opening the door a crack after knocking. “You have a visitor.” With that she opened the door the rest of the way and pushed me inside.
He was settled in a large armchair in front of the fire, a book held in his hands. “What can I do for you today?” He asked, glancing up. We have the same nose, I thought.
“Oh, in the name of Athene,” spouted the woman who had led me in before I could say anything. She came forward and dragged me closer into the firelight. “Look at her Niko. What is your name girl?”
“Rhoda,” I stammered, not knowing quite how to handle her forceful movements. “Rhoda Millan.”
I watched as the realization slowly dawned over his face. And then he laughed joyfully and jumped up. “So I have a daughter after all.”
The door opened after a moment, an older lady in a spattered apron looking up at me. “Yes?”
“I’m looking for Nikolaos Kallithéa,” I said, the hard-earned name like a gem on my lips.
She looked me over, taking in my travel stained clothing before her gaze rose to my face. Then her eyes widened. “Pallus Athene,” she whispered. “Yes of course, come in.”
Hope beat like the wings of a frantic bird in my chest as she led me inside, but I held on tight to the emotion. I had experienced too many moments like this in my hunt to truly let myself hope. She led me through the house, the smells of dinner making my stomach growl and my mouth water, and we paused at a door.
“Master,” she said, opening the door a crack after knocking. “You have a visitor.” With that she opened the door the rest of the way and pushed me inside.
He was settled in a large armchair in front of the fire, a book held in his hands. “What can I do for you today?” He asked, glancing up. We have the same nose, I thought.
“Oh, in the name of Athene,” spouted the woman who had led me in before I could say anything. She came forward and dragged me closer into the firelight. “Look at her Niko. What is your name girl?”
“Rhoda,” I stammered, not knowing quite how to handle her forceful movements. “Rhoda Millan.”
I watched as the realization slowly dawned over his face. And then he laughed joyfully and jumped up. “So I have a daughter after all.”