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Gammyde's Tale:

Gammyde pours herself a glass of deep red wine from the spigot of a huge barrel, sits down at a rough hewn oak table, and runs a hand absentmindedly through her long, silver hair.

“All right then, you wish to hear a bit of my history... let’s see, I was born just before winter solstice on the island of Aegina in the Saronic Gulf to my mother Mycelea, and my father Liticus. I was to be their only child, as it turns out, though my mother prayed to the goddesses of fertility and childbirth for many years to give Liticus the son that he wished I was.”

“Father was a sheep farmer. I suspect it was the incessant bleating of all those mindless sheep that drove him to his drink every night. He liked his ale hard and fast, and mother paid the price if it didn’t flow quickly enough for him.”

Gammy sighs and raises the glass of wine to her lips, drinking deeply from it before continuing.

“In my fourth year, something happened that I now believe was the turning point of my entire life, the difference between what dark things I could have been, and who I am today. My mother’s mother lost her husband, and Liticus allowed her to move into a ramshackle old shed at the back of his sheep pasture. I’m not sure exactly why or how this grandfather that I never knew died - because no one ever spoke of him out loud when I was around - but I remember being glad he did, because it brought my grandmother to me.”

“My grandmother - Nana, as I called her - was a wise and beautiful woman. She was skilled in all manner of herb and wood lore, in healing, and even in destruction when she wished to be. All these things and more she taught me late in the night in that old shed out back. When father had had enough ale and I could manage to sneak past him, I would run through the darkness, stumbling through a half mile of sheep droppings to be with Nana. I lived for those midnight teachings, perched quietly on a stool in the corner, my breath held in tight anticipation as I watched Nana work. By the time I was eight years old, I could already make a healing elixir that was nearly as potent as those Nana herself made.”

"Then one cold winter night in that shack, by the light of a single tallow candle, something went horribly wrong. As Nana confidently added a handful of witchwood chips to a vial full of crystals, the entire mixture exploded, wounding Nana’s chest and neck. I jumped wide-eyed from my perch in the corner and ran to her, ripping off my skirt and using it to stem the flow of blood. We managed to make it, stumbling, four hands clutched around Nana’s neck, out the gate and to a neighboring farm for help. By the grace of the gods Nana lived, but she would never utter a single word from that day forward. The blast had ripped her vocal chords to shreds.”

“The next few years of my life were spent trying desperately trying to gain my father’s love and approval – which he never once managed to give - and tending to my mother after his fits of rage. Were it not for Nana to guide me and love me through those years...”

Gammy lets the sentence trail off into uncomfortable silence before taking a deep breath and continuing.

“On the eve of my 13th year to the day, with only the clothes on my back and a chunk of bread and some cheese in a knapsack, I tearfully kissed my Nana goodbye. I’d written a letter to my cousin Shiba in Athens some months earlier, asking her if she thought she could take me in for a bit until I got my bearings in the new city. She’d finally written back encouraging me to “Yes! By all means DO come.” And so I’d tiptoed around my father slumped at the kitchen table, his fingers still twisted around the handle of his ale mug, and made my way to the docks and onto a ship into the great unknown.”

“Shiba was indeed there at the harbor to greet me, sporting two wiry, shady looking men whom she introduced as “friends”. The crew had begun unloading cargo from the ship, among it a large bay window, presumably to be delivered to a home or shop somewhere in Piraeus. They leaned the window against some pilings as they returned for more cargo, and I was amused to see that the reflection of it lined up with the reflection of the ticket booth’s window. It was in this mirrored configuration that I saw, rather than felt, one of the men’s hands slip into my pocket and withdraw the small amount of dinar Nana had been able to provide me with as Shiba held me in a tight, warm, overlong hug. I watched Shiba smile and wink at him just before she released me from her hug and kissed my cheek, welcoming me to Athens. It was then that I knew Nana had been right to worry. I was in for a difficult, lonely journey in this new city of dreams.”