Back with a new prompt! Part 2, page 37. :) There'll be no more prompt posting, 'cause we gotta fill the rest, first. D: Almost eighty pages, and probably less than half of that is filled. GO WRITE, MY COMPANIONS. THEY CALL TO YOU.
Leonardo da Vinci was a wealthy man. To say any less was utter farce, but even to say he was wealthy was almost an understatement. He painted the portraits of the royal families from two neighboring kingdoms every year. He was popular in court and among his less wealthy patrons. He had three bank accounts, all three had at least ten thousand dollars in them. He was a peace-loving man: he never ate meat, and he avoided violence. Yet despite all of this wealth, never did the three banks accounts remain full very long. His house and clothes were simple and unassuming. Regardless of advocating for peace, there were sketches and blueprints of the most advanced guns, horrid war machines, and the most unholy ways of getting information out of people scattered about his rooms. Even though he never ate meat, there was nice hunk of it always occupying the corner of his freezer. And at the end of his bed was a trunk with six hundred and sixteen badly treated leather collars. He could remember the name on each one.
Leonardo walked briskly into the marketplace, wincing whenever he would spot a collar. A collar did not belong on a human. His heart went out to each person he saw with one, the latest design for his war machine whizzing through his head. Against his chest, his silver necklace caught the sunlight; a small metal charm made of a stylized form of an upside down letter V and a thin curve underneath was the only charm. The symbol of all he stood for.
"Ah, Leonardo, a pleasure."
He smiled warmly at the fat man sitting in front of a darkened building. Behind him, there were several empty cages. "Good to see you, too."
The trader smiled, an evil, snaggle-toothed grin. "Here a little early. I assume you want to see who we have?"
"Naturally," came the short and clipped response.
The man rose and led him into the building. "I have a deal I do not think you will pass up."
Leonardo raised an eyebrow as he was brought to the back of the store, the filthiest and vilest part. He eyed the cages carefully, gazing at each human, male or female, adult or child, trapped within. Eventually they stopped in front of a tiny cage with three men inside, all tangled up with one another.
He leaned forward and studied them closely as they slept. They were tanned and well-built, each with short dark hair and a scar on their lips. Around their necks were the pieces of leather that Leonardo hated so much.
"How much are they?"
At the sound of his voice, the oldest looking one untangled himself, immediately recognizing where he was and growling at them.
"Forty-four thousand eight hundred and twenty seven."
Leonardo balked. "These must be the best of the best then?"
"Brothers and the worst of the worst, but to the right man, they will be worth it."
He leaned forward a little more, watching as the middle one seemed to wake. He shifted over the third one, the youngest looking one. He felt the man look him over carefully, and watched as his eyes got stuck on the charm on his necklace with a flash of recognition.
"I have enough for only two—"
The one that was awake first pounced on the bars, snarling and growling as he threw himself against them. It stirred the third awake, and as Leonardo ignored the first one, he felt like he had his heart ripped out. The youngest one could hardly have been old enough to leave home. He could feel the man's grin as he watched the three of them. The youngest watched him frightened.
"They're sold only as a set."
Leonardo winced and cautiously held out a hand, meeting eyes with the third one. The young pet looked at the hand, then to the middle pet, who leaned over and grabbed Leonardo's hand. He met the man's eyes, which seemed to say, "Get him out."
The artist rose and looked at the man. "I will return with the money. Put them on hold for me."
The vendor's grin grew. "Of course."
Leonardo nodded once at the three and ran off to get the rest of the money. As he flew out of the store, he calculated the rest he needed. He had thirty two thousand of it, but lacked the other twelve thousand. It was a shame pets cost so much, but probably for the better. The more they cost, the less demand there was. The less demand, the less he had to free. But he needed to hurry. That vendor would raise the price ten thousand and sell to the next customer if he could. He skirted around a corner and down several streets to his next-door neighbor's house. He pounded on the door.
Eventually, it opened.
"Malik, I need thirteen thous—"
"Just who are you buying this time?"
He looked at the man. "There are three—"
"Three for how much?"
"Forty-four, eight, two, seven."
Malik's eyes narrowed. "They are overpriced. Buy the cheaper ones."
"Malik," Leonardo looked crushed, "they are brothers. And one looks barely legal to leave the house by himself if he wanted."
Malik studied him closely as he tried to catch his breath. He was quiet for several minutes.
"Same-blood pets are always more expensive, and if they are bought, they look good enough they will probably be used for sexual services. They will never see one another again, much like you and your brother."
He saw Malik's eyes grow wide. He hated that the last two points hit a sore point for the man. He watched him retreat into his house.
"I will be back with the money."
As he waited, he remembered meeting Malik when he first moved in and hearing about how his younger brother and he had been pets in different cathouses for a while in a foreign nation—before their resistance forces freed and armed them. Malik lost his arm in the fight. His brother had lost his life. He had never gotten to say goodbye once they were bought.
Since then, he had joined the international Operation Archangel in honor of his brother's memory. It was run by an organization who hated the "slave trade." They worked in all nations, fighting with the people to keep the slave collectors out. Those who could not serve were charged with purchasing pets for sale, humans for sale, nursing them and getting them on their feet in society. His neighbor now made maps for their forces as well as purchasing pets. Malik and Kadar had been Leonardo's first two collars. The one-armed man came from the house holding his satchel.
"Let's go."
Leonardo nodded as they took off down the road again. When they arrived, the vendor looked up. "Well, whaddya know, you came back."
The artist nodded.
"I'm afraid that they've escaped."
Malik stepped forward and grabbed the man by the collar of his neck. "They better damn well not have," he growled.
Leonardo almost sobbed. It was the excuse he gave whenever a pet had been sold to someone if it was promise to someone else.
"Are you sure they escaped?" he said.
The vendor nodded, and Malik dropped the man in disgust. "And we are closed, I am sorry, but you can see the trucks behind the building clearing out the building. Gas leak."
He remembered a smile tugging at his lips when Malik punched the man.
At the end of the month, Leonardo pulled his cap on and set foot outside. Malik was waiting for him, leaning against the side of his studio.
"Ready?" he asked, and the artist nodded.
They walked in silence to the marketplace, back to the vendor. "Ah, Leonardo, a pleasure."
He smiled warmly at the fat man sitting in front of a darkened building. Behind him, there were several empty cages. "Good to see you, too."
The trader smiled, an evil, snaggle-toothed grin. "I assume you want to see who we have?"
"Naturally," came the short and clipped response. Same greeting every time. He smiled when the vendor watched Malik closely as he rose.
"I think you'll find I have the most interesting pet this time. I do believe you looked at him last time."
Leonardo gasped, and Malik visibly winced. The vendor gave him his crooked grin and stopped several cages in. It was the front of the store, where the cheapest ones were. He knelt in front of the cage. The poor man had a swollen eye and several bruises up his arms. Rope burns marred his arms, chest, and back upon inspection. There was a bloody welt on the side of his head, and his foot was purple and twice as big as his other was. His hand was bent at unseemly angles
"Heaven have mercy. How much?"
"Only one-thousand and thirty two."
"He should be worth less," Malik growled.
"Ah, but the artist will pay that much."
Tried and true, Leonardo forked over the cash. Malik gave him an irritated glance.
"He will be worth it, my friend," Leonardo said. He saw the man open his eye and gaze at him blearily as his cage was pushed out.
The vendor forced the man to his feet and out of the cage. Leonardo caught him as he stumbled and glanced at his tags.
"Ezio," he murmured as Malik walked beside them.
When he got home, he set about dressing the wounds like an expert. He washed him with rags, applied antiseptic, and bandaged him up. The man sat there completely unaware to what was happening to him. He made a makeshift cast for his foot after cutting it open and pinning together the bones, and his heart broke at sounds the man made. Repeat for the hand. It wasn't until he had patched him up that he reached up to the collar. He undid it carefully and pulled the piece away when a surprisingly strong hand closed around his wrist. He looked up to see the man's eyes, cloudy and unfocused, staring at him.
"Too late," he croaked as he slumped forward. Leonardo panicked for a moment as he caught the man before he felt him mumble into shoulder, "You didn't come back in time to rescue him."
He called for the young boy that lived with him: his three-hundred and ninth freed pet, a curly redhead named Salai. The young man came bounding down the stairs and helped him get the new man into Leonardo's bedroom and into the bed. Before he left, he opened the chest at the foot of his bed and gazed at all the collars he had. Then, with a soft smile, he deposited Ezio's into the mess and closed it.
When he came in next, the man was wide awake, watching him carefully. He brought in the food and set it down over the new man's lap. He smiled warmly.
"You're awake earlier than I thought."
"You…" the man croaked. "You belong to resistance forces. Against the force controlling the government."
Leonardo laughed and placed a hand lightly on his leg. "Yes, I do."
He took off his necklace and held it out for him to examine.
"Your name is Ezio, I am correct?"
"Yes."
He watched Ezio look over the symbol carefully before handing it back.
"My brothers—"
Leonardo shushed him. "You should not speak right now. I know you want to help them, but I will need your story once you have recovered more. The other man with me today, did you notice him?"
Ezio nodded.
"He had alerted the others here, and they will spread the news to keep a look out for two others who look like you. But we cannot make any guarantees. We are doing all we can."
Ezio was studying him again. He met the man's gaze with his own soft stare.
"Eat. You need strength."
The once-pet looked down at the food. There was a salad and a—still untrimmed, because the man needed fat—medium rare steak. There was a vegetable soup with bread slathered in butter—fat, he needed fat.
He sat with the man as he ate, watching him pick up the fork slowly and poke at the center of the cut meat.
"It still bleeds in the middle."
Leonardo chuckled. "There are the most nutrients in blood. I will cook it more to your liking when I am certain you will not die of malnourishment."
Ezio looked up at him with another studying stare. Leonardo began to get the feeling he'd be on the end of that one a lot. "You've done this a long time."
"Thirty-five years. Operation Archangel helped get me on my feet as an artist. I owe them this at least."
"How old?"
"That is not of importance, my friend. For now, just eat and recover."
It didn't take long before all the food was gone, practically inhaled, and he could hear Ezio's stomach making the most satisfied noises as he leaned into the pillows. Leonardo rose and gathered his tray to let the man rest.
"I will see you in the morning, my friend."
As he left, he felt Ezio's gaze on him. He almost didn't catch what that man said as he closed the door.
"Thank you."
He couldn't help but smile as he walked downstairs to where Salai was lounging across the rafters. Things like that made all the money worth it. The redhead jumped down and hugged Leonardo.
"He won't take you away from me, will he?"
Leonardo looked at the young man. He must have been the same age as the youngest brother. Stroking his hair, Leonardo hugged him back. "Never, Salai. We go through this every time."
Salai perked up. "Then will he join me in painting when his hand begins to heal?"
The artist laughed. "Yes, you will both learn."
The redhead laughed joyfully and leapt around. He watched him with a smile. The boy still had a while to go before he could leave Leonardo's house, and he had already been here several years. He had bought the boy when his hand was crushed, not broken like Ezio's, and he had been patiently working with him in painting to bring it back to its full use. Ezio would receive much the same when his hand healed. The two would learn to paint. Although, he got the feeling that Ezio would end up serving as a soldier when his hand was back to its full power.
He mused silently: perhaps, he would join the Godsend. They were in charge of raiding houses with abused pets. Despite the fact that pet purchasing was legal, when an alleged pet abuser was reported, the Godsend would raid the house and throw the owner in jail. Even though the government allowed the slave trade to happen, it also gave them most of their organization's funding.
Every day, he brought the man three large meals and watched as they disappeared within minutes. The meals were "chalk full" of proteins and fats, and he couldn't help but feel a little better when he saw the weight begin to accumulate on the man. Leonardo spent as much time as he could with the man, trying to keep him company and keep Salai away.
The two didn't get along well, even though pets usually seemed to be better at getting along with one another than anyone else. However, once or twice when he had been gone all day, he would find the two curled up with each other on his bed.
Leonardo became good friends with the man as they waited for his bones to heal. He spent much of his free time with the man to keep him company, and he often gave him updates on the forces search for his brothers.
When several weeks had passed, Leonardo put him under and took the pins from his foot and hand. Two more weeks passed before he could put pressure on the foot. He decided that it was time to teach the man to paint to get the muscles in his hand working again. He brought the food in after a long day at the court with Malik, exhausted.
Salai was curled up against Ezio's side, sleeping peacefully. The sunset cast shadows over everything as he entered the room.
"You are back, finally."
He smiled tiredly and offered the food. "Yes, thankfully."
Ezio let him set the meal down before picking up his fork. Leonardo didn't notice as he ate slowly, watching the artist closely.
"It has been many weeks. How goes finding my kin?"
Leonardo winced, and Ezio hummed.
"I was afraid of that."
"I have asked everywhere, court, taverns, the vendor. We have no leads."
"You have yet to hear our journey—perhaps that would help?"
Leonardo sat up wearily. "Yes, it might. Hold on just a second."
He got up and finished around on his messy desk in the room, eventually finding a small tape recorder. He fiddled around with it for a little bit before sitting down. "From start to finish please, but concentrate more on the details at the end, Ezio."
The man nodded. "Altair and I lived in Vorei, on the coast. Desmond was sixteen when he joined us. He had escaped from a different owner all ready and tracked us down as relatives. He is an incredible child. One night about four years later, a man knocked on our door. He warned us of the slave traders. He wore your necklace, that's how I knew the symbol when I saw you. Altair and Desmond never saw it. He left, and I returned to bed. Several days later, we were attacked and captured."
"Yes, I have heard that the Western shores are the best for the pet business."
"We were taken here, sold, and moved back to the coast to work. Desmond came up with a getaway route, having used it trying to get to us."
"The Rekari desert territory lies between us and the coast. He passed through there unharmed?"
"The natives there have kept the slave traders out. When they saw his collar as a child, they escorted him to us. Like you, they do not forget someone they help."
Leonardo frowned, then snapped his fingers. "That's where my latest gun design went! We have been feeding them supplies to keep the traders out!"
Ezio nodded once. "We all made it off the compound, but when Altair split with us to lead our trackers off, we didn't not realize there was a second group that found Desmond's and my hiding spot. I was drugged and bound, beaten, and returned to the vendor for resale since this is where I was originally sold."
"What do you remember about that night?"
Ezio gave him the saddest look. "I do not remember much. The head injury, I fear, caused my forgetfulness. I cannot supply you with many details."
Leonardo looked upset. "Can you remember anything?"
Ezio was silent for several minutes, eating a bite or two as he thought hard. "I remember them mentioning someone named Gaseous? Gashin? Gasheen? And Desmond's frightened look when it was suggest he get sent there. Someone identified him as a previously escaped pet."
The artist frowned and rose, walking over to a map pinned to his wall. It was covered with weapon supply spots and enemy routes, notes and labels. He studied it briefly before pointing to a northern nation neighboring their country.
"Gasheen, our neighbor, touches the desert and the uninhabitable northlands." His eyes grew wide as he flicked over the notes on the map, and he paled considerably, a hand flying to his mouth. He looked outside. It was dark, but he needed to alert the others. And get his next war machine to them.
"What is it, Leonardo?"
He rushed to the bed and turned off the tape, shoving it into a satchel on the back of his desk chair. "Oh, dear… Ezio, go get your coat on. I know you are not that strong on your feet right now, but it is not safe to walk alone. Let Salai sleep."
He rushed about, gathering the blueprints and stuffing them into the bag and going to the window in his room. He threw it open and tossed a small rock at the window a short distance from his. Malik opened it shortly after.
"What is it—"
"Get dressed. Desmond is in Gasheen."
Malik took a bit to register what was said before he, too, looked alarmed. "Is he even still alive?"
"Pray he is, my friend, and meet me outside."
