This story comes to us from the Greek language. It’s a vivid and exciting tale of two siblings who face a great challenge. They're helped by a little bird who shows up with timely advice.
Host and narrator: Alice Qin
Story consultant and translation: Dina Gerolymou
Story editor: Marcel Dorney
Voices: Alkisti Pitsaki
Recording engineers: Kyle McLeavy & Tal Abilmona
Executive producer, sound design and music: Kieran Ruffles
TRANSCRIPT
Picture a red thread unwinding into the dark. This is fate. Let's see where it leads.
Once upon a time there was a little girl named Poulia. She lived, quite happily, with her mother and father, at the edge of a small village, very close to the forest where her father worked as a woodcutter.
But when Poulia was still very young, her mother grew sick, and soon she died. Poulia and her father grieved terribly, but before long, the woodcutter had remarried, and soon there was another child in their house, a little boy named Avgerinos.
As Poulia and Avgerinos grew up, they became inseparable, playing in the forest, and feeding the birds that sang in its pomegranate trees. Although he was younger than Poulia, Avgerinos protected his sister, and always took her side. Which he often had to do, because his mother did not like Poulia. Not at all.
In fact, when Avgerinos was still quite small, his mother hatched a plan: to sell Poulia at the market and get rid of her once and for all.
However, as the Fates would have it, a little bird overheard the woodcutter’s wife making her plans. The little bird flew at once to Poulia and Avgerinos where they were playing, and told them everything. As you can imagine, Poulia was very upset to hear that her stepmother planned to sell her, and she began to cry.
‘Dry your eyes,’ said the little bird, ‘and listen very carefully to what I say. You can save your life, Poulia, but you must leave the forest, and village, and all that you’ve known. This is what you need to do.’
Poulia dried her eyes and listened.
‘Tomorrow morning,’ said the little bird, ‘you must put three things in your pocket: a comb, a bar of soap, and a pinch of salt. Then, when your stepmother combs your hair and ties it with ribbons, Avgerinos will come and snatch those ribbons away from you. You will pretend you are upset, and you’ll chase after him to get them back. Obviously, your stepmother will run after you. So as you run away from her, you must throw these three things behind you; first the comb, then the soap, and then the salt.‘
‘First the comb,’ Poulia repeated, ‘then the soap, and then the salt.’
‘Good luck, kid,’ said the little bird, and flew away.
The next day, the two children did exactly as the bird told them. While Poulia’s stepmother was combing the girl’s hair, Avgerinos grabbed her ribbons and started running, fast as he could.
Poulia ran after her brother, crying, just as if she was terribly upset at having her ribbons stolen.
The woodcutter’s wife shouted at them to come back - ‘I’ll buy you new ribbons, Poulia!’ she cried - but then she saw Avgerinos seize Poulia’s hand, and she realised the children were running away! Quickly she began to chase them.
Poulia looked back and saw her stepmother getting closer. Just as the bird had told her, she threw the comb over her head, and where it landed behind her, a forest, huge and wild, sprang up, filled with nettles and thorns!
But the woodcutter’s wife fought her way through, with remarkable strength and speed, (and kept running after them)[1] Just as the bird had told her, Poulia now threw the soap behind her. Massive rocks burst from the ground, but her stepmother climbed them with astonishing speed, and soon she had almost caught them. Finally, Poulia threw the salt behind her.
Between the children and their stepmother, there now raged a great sea: deep, dark and treacherous.
Poulia saw her stepmother on the other shore, blue in the face with rage. She heard her stepmother howl with anger, and shivered as she turned away.
II
Poulia and Avgerinos stayed only to catch their breath, before they started walking, in search of somewhere safe to rest.
‘I am thirsty,’ said Avgerinos, his throat dry from running.
‘Keep walking,’ said Poulia. I’m sure we’ll find a river somewhere close.’
But as they trudged on, through the hot sun across a strange, stony land, there was no water to be found.
‘I'm thirsty,’ whispered Avgerinos.
‘Be patient, alright?’ Poulia told him, ‘We’ll find water soon.’
Walking for a little longer, they found a clearing, full of fresh tracks: the tracks of wolves. Their great paw-prints held some water, and Avgerinos knelt to drink. Poulia felt herself shiver, as if hearing, again, her stepmother’s howl of anger.
‘Don’t!’ Poulia screamed. ‘Don’t drink, Avgerinos, please. You’ll turn into a wolf.’
‘Turn into a wolf?’ scoffed Avgerinos.
‘Yes,’ said Poulia, ‘a wolf. And you’ll eat me up.’
Avgerinos, who had not heard his mother shout across the sea, was confused, but he promised his sister he would not drink.
They kept walking and soon they saw tracks from an ox, filled with dirty water. Avgerinos was so thirsty, he fell to his knees to drink.
‘No! Please, don’t drink,’ Poulia said, shivering; ‘You’ll turn into an ox.’
‘Alright,’ said Avgerinos. ‘I won’t drink, then.’
They walked further, growing very tired and thirsty, and soon night began to fall.
And then Avgerinos saw, in the last rays of the sun, the water that gleamed where a lamb had stepped in the soft earth.
‘Water!’ he cried as he ran to drink from the lamb’s tracks.
‘No!’ said Poulia in horror, ‘Don’t drink! You’ll become a lamb!’
‘Fine,’ said Avgerinos, ‘I won’t. Let’s just go to sleep instead.’
But when they laid down to rest, and Poulia’s eyes had closed, Avgerinos’ thirst overcame him, and he knelt to drink from the lamb’s footprint.
Poulia woke with the first rays of the sun. As she opened her eyes, she saw, sitting beside her, a lamb, small and white. Looking into its eyes, she realised what had happened. She picked up the lamb, stroked his head, kissed it and tied a silk ribbon around its neck. ‘Let’s go, little brother,’ she said, wiping the tears from her eyes.
They walked through the gathering day, and before long, they came upon a pomegranate tree. Poulia, so hungry now she barely cared what was and wasn’t stealing, climbed the tree to pick the fruit. But she had to climb out on a long branch, which - she realised as she looked down - overhung a stream of fresh water. If only they had waited to drink!
At that moment, Poulia heard the sound of horses. Peering down, she saw what she could only think was a prince and his servants. She watched, fascinated, as they stopped to drink from the spring.
The Prince, bending to splash water on his face, saw a face reflected in the stream. His first thought was - that must be a dryad, a tree spirit.
Not daring to look up, he peered closely at the reflection, and realised that the beautiful creature looking back at him was a girl.
Raising his head, he called to her:
‘Come down! Don’t be afraid.’
But Poulia stared at him, and shook her head.
The Prince, being a decent guy, decided not to press the matter. He did, however, glance at the small white lamb who had trotted up. Feeling sorry for the lonely little creature, he picked him up with one hand, as he swung on to his horse.
‘No! Don’t take my lamb!’ cried the girl in the tree. The Prince, startled, looked up to see her climbing down the branches as fast as she could.
Poulia and the Prince… spoke. For some time. Eventually she agreed to follow the Prince back to the palace, as long as the lamb was not harmed.
On the ride back, the Prince found himself enchanted, in every way, with this stranger, so much so that after they reached the palace, he went to the King and Queen, and announced with grave excitement; ‘Father. Mother. I’ve found my wife.’
III
The wedding of Poulia and the Prince was grand and resplendent. Everyone was admiring the pretty and kind princess who was going to be their queen one day.
Well, almost everyone. Unfortunately for Poulia, her mother in law, the Queen, had enjoyed being the brightest star in the palace. Looking at her son’s young bride, she felt that she no longer shone so brightly… not now that Poulia was in the sky alongside her.
Such feelings sometimes fade. But this one did not. It made a home in the Queen’s heart, until she could not think of Poulia and her lamb without wanting to scream with rage.
One day the Prince and his father, the old King, were away on a long journey.
Poulia was enjoying the fruit trees in the garden, the little lamb in her arms. But as they walked by the well, the Queen stepped out from behind a tree, and without hesitation, pushed Poulia into the well, where she tumbled down, her brother still in her arms.
A day went by, and then another; it was a whole week before the Prince returned.
Looking around in surprise, his first words were; ‘Mother, where is Poulia?’
‘I have not seen her, my son,’ she replied, and laid her hand on his arm. ‘She may have left you,’ she whispered sadly. ‘After all, we barely know anything about her.’
- 'Baa.'
The Prince heard a strange, faint, echoing sound from the garden.
'Mother, do you hear that?'
- 'Baa.'
His mother looked at him, expressionless.
‘I’m sure it’s nothing.’
- 'Baa.'
‘That’s definitely Poulia’s lamb,’ said the Prince, his face grim. 'She wouldn’t have left him behind.’
With that he ran to the garden, looking around for the lamb. The bleating continued, growing louder, and the Prince realised it was coming from the well.
- 'Baaa. Baaa.'
The Prince threw himself to the ground and peered into the well. In the lamb’s bleating, he began to hear words:
- 'The Queen! Baa. The Queen threw her in. Baa. Into the well…'
The Prince gathered his men, and they soon drew Poulia out of the well, bruised and battered, and so hungry and tired she could not speak.
The Queen, with her plans in ruins, saw a last opportunity for revenge. With the Prince busy at Poulia’s side, she ordered her kitchen staff to seize the lamb and take it to be slaughtered and served for dinner.
As soon as Poulia could speak, she called for the lamb, but he was nowhere to be seen. In a panic, she pleaded with the Prince to find him; but a few moments later, she heard his bleat, and ran to the kitchen courtyard.
With horror, she saw she was too late. The little lamb’s eyes met hers, as the strong arm of the palace cook held him, while another hand drew a sharp knife across his throat.
But as the blade drew the very first drops of blood, the servants shouted in surprise, as the lamb changed shape under their hands, until, lying at their surprised feet, was a handsome boy.
Poulia ran to Avgerinos and cradled him, weeping loudly, her hand pressing at the wound on his neck, trying to stop his blood from flowing. The entire palace, it now seemed to Poulia, was running into the courtyard, drawn to the commotion.
She lifted her face to the sky, and saw, through her tears… birds.
There were ten of them, all doves, and they descended, surrounding the weeping sister and her brother.
She saw the Prince’s astonished face, as the ten doves touched their wings together in a shining circle, and the injured siblings began to rise from the Earth.
‘Farewell my beloved Prince, and you, my good King,’ said Poulia, as she began to fly away. ‘My brother and I have known such pain, in this world that we are leaving. Now we will live away from everyone, together, and in peace.’
And Poulia and Avgerinos rose, and rose, until they became stars, in the sky, where no one can reach them.
Some among us down here on Earth know Avgerinos as ‘Venus’; and Poulia is also known as the Pleiades.
If you look carefully, when the night sky is clear, you’ll see them up there among the stars, side by side... shining brightly, and safe.
