She could remember the day clearly, still.  Even though so many years had passed, she wasn't even sure of the closest estimation.

It had been summer, the last few days in the season where the faded heat makes a point to come back in full force, just to remind you that fall wasn't quite there yet.
Her father had been in the middle of heated negotiations with a king from the north, and her uncle had flown off a few hours beforehand, leaving her alone with Callirrhoe.  Callirrhoe was determined to make Caia a lady, and had been instructing her in the fine art of weaving when a matter in the kitchens divided her attention, allowing the young girl to escape from the torture.

Now free, Caia made her way from the palace and out to the point, sitting on her and Alcander's favorite rock, turning a watchful eye towards the coast.  Every day she'd come and eagerly wait on the rock, hoping desperately for a glimpse of her brother's ship on the horizon; after all, he'd set sail from the Thessalian Plain nearly two months ago...surely that was sufficient time to make it back to Iberia?

She let out a heavy sigh, before catching sight of a mast.  She jumped to her feet and ran as close as she could without going over the cliff, shading her eyes with her hand.

There was definitely a mast.  And as the ship grew closer, there was no doubt in her mind that they were flying Iberian colors.  A grin spread across her face and she turned, running as fast as she could back towards the palace.

As she approached, she spotted several men on horses speeding towards the gates, making it to the courtyard as they dismounted and approached the doors.  Her pace slowed as she realized none of them were her brother, giving a disappointed sigh, she decided to go inside anyways.  It was getting a bit late and her stomach was growling.

She made her way into the palace, doing her best to slip by the throne room, her dress was torn and dirt stained her hands and feet.  Callirrhoe would have her head.

But something made her stop and peer between the ajar doors.  Her father sat in his oak throne, his light blue eyes regarding the messengers with the same expectant look he gave everyone.  It said 'spit out the words or move on'.  The lead messenger bowed his head as he kneeled at Chrysaor's feet.
“Sire...it's about your son.”  He whispered, his voice was quiet and a hint of pain ate at the tone.  

Caia, who had been debating wandering down to the kitchens instead of eavesdropping, immediately tuned back in.

Chrysaor's eyes went slightly dark.  He heard the fear in the messenger's tone, the pain of delivering bad news.
“What is it?”  He asked slowly, sitting up and regarding the man.  Callirrhoe had had the decency to start paying attention at that, her needlepoint laying forgotten in her lap.
“Sire...he never made port in Sicilia...” The messenger paused, observing Chrysaor carefully.  The king paused, his eyes narrowing slowly.  Caia stared into the room, her mind trying to no avail to grasp at straws.
“Are you saying the ship was wrecked, Sereno?”  He questioned slowly, his face was blank, and unlike Caia, he was trying to keep a level head on his shoulders.  Sereno frowned
“There was no evidence of such, sire...the ship has simply...disappeared.  There...there were no survivors found.  We have no choice but to fear for the worst.”

Caia could recall only snippets of related memories after that.  She remembered falling to her knees outside the door, the way Callirrhoe's eyes were devoid of any sort of sorrow as she consoled her weeping husband.  Caia remembered someone screaming...the way her father held her as she beat her fists into his chest and the way her grandfather looked at her at Alcander's memorial a while later.  Zeus had been there...so had Hera, and a redhead that Callirrhoe cooed over in delight, as if she were an infant.  
She remembered the way everyone looked at her and the way her father kept a straight face while talking.  She remembered bursting into tears halfway through and pushing her way out of the crowd, knocking over a redheaded man so he'd fallen into a shorter girl with black hair, and a tall boy with freckles into the flowerbed, before making her way to the point.  Her grandfather had followed her, and the two had sat on the rock for the rest of the night; watching the stars as Pegasus played with the fireflies behind them.

Caia remembered all of this...
And she now knew the redhead Callirrhoe had cooed over was Tanis.  And the man she'd shoved was Hermes, into his daughter, Amynta.  And the one that she'd knocked into her step-mother's perennials was Prometheus.

Caia sighed and stood, stretching slightly, looking out at the horizon one last time with a sad smile
“Until next year, little brother...”  She whispered, turning wandering over and setting a small blue flower on a crumbling circular stone.  She looked at it for a minute, before wiping away a tear and turning.  Her grandfather stood a few feet away, watching the sunset silently, he looked at her and gave a half smile, but no words were spoken.

She nodded lightly and started down the point.

Nova, Sai, Nik and Maxyth were waiting for her in town and she'd already kept them waiting long enough.