Sun streams in through the open window and woke me from my deep sleep. Groaning, I mange to roll out of bed. I glance at myself in the mirror I keep in the corner of my small room. My dark hair was in knots and tangled around my face. I have dark rings under my hazel eyes, from lack of sleep, and my head is pounding dully soon to give way to a splitting headache.
I had come in late last night when I managed to pull myself away from drowning my crushed hope and broken dreams away at the tavern again. I had been rejected for an art apprenticeship again. I was fine with it the first time I could tell myself I was not their style and move on, but I finally had gotten a reason for all of my rejections, women are not allowed in the world of art and have no place learning beside men.
Now this frustrates me to no end. But it also has me thinking, if they won't take a female student, maybe they will take a very male looking student.
"Yes," I shout. Why didn't I think of it before, it was so obvious and right in front of my eyes. Of course I will always be under risk of being found out, but what's life without a little fear?
I race to the trunk I keep on the other side of the room, it has all my clothing, but more importantly it has the one pair of pants my father had made for me when he had started to teach me swordplay and how to defend myself. I removed the night-gown I had on, folded it neatly and placed it in the trunk. I pulled on the pants and made sure they would stay up with a black leather belt. Now a shirt would be tricky I can't wear one of those V-necked shirts all the men are and I also needed a shirt that would cover my whole back, because of a gift, or as some have called it a deformity I was born with.
There were two tattoos that cover the entirety of my back. They were two wings, almost like that of birds, but if you believe in that stuff, they look like what I would imagine angel's wings look like. That's not even the strange part yet. As a child I slowly noticed the markings growing whiter and whiter, they also gained the texture of soft feathers. Of course being young I thought nothing of it. Until the pain started. It was the worst pain I had ever felt in my life. The pain of the wings ripping though the soft flesh of my back. They are white as snow and soft as swans' down. They looked identical to the tattoos. but when I looked at them in the mirror the parts attached to my body were dark red and covered in blood. This blood never washed out and always reminds me that with power there comes sacrifices and pain.
I shuffle though my clothes and eventually find the perfect shirt, one of the only shirts i have, and pull it on. I race through my normal routine of combing my hair and washing my face. I try my very best to style my hair hoping it looked like a man's and then placed a hat on my head. I grab my sketchbook and my portfolio of paintings, drawings, and just for an added bonus (hopefully) my inventions and ideas. I raced down the stairs from my apartment and through the tavern that lay below.
The day is beautiful and all of Florence was awake. The hustle and bustle of Florence was in full swing, making it hard to get to where I was going, but I don't really mind. why spend all your time working in life? I finally make my way to one of the last art workshops in Florence. It belongs to the renowned Verrocchio, and if not for my rejections to all other studios it would not be on my list of places to apply to. I believe that with students such as Leonardo Da Vinci, my work will never compare.
I stop my mind for a minute and breath, I just need to believe in myself and keep in character. Today I am not Aquila Innocenti, I am Luca Lombardi.
I pushed through the door and immediately I'm entranced by the studio, everywhere there seems to be people milling about working of different projects. There are paintings here and sculptures there, there are even students tinkering with mechanics. I must have looked very shocked because I heard laughter coming from behind me. I turned around and there standing in front of me was the famed Verrocchio.
"Sorry for that, I always love to see new faces walk through that door and act the way you did," Andrea chuckles as he explains. "But might I ask why you are here?" He asks.
I fell myself blush a little at his words, but I manage to pull myself together and come up with a reply. "I am here looking for an apprenticeship under you," I tell the older man as I hand him my portfolio and pray in my mind that he was looking for new students.
At my explanation, his face turned serious and he took the portfolio that I handed to him. He slowly flipped through my work, making me more and more nervous as each second went by.
"I would love to take you as an apprentice, your work holds great promise, but sadly my studio is full at the moment," He handed me back my portfolio with an almost frown on his face, and started to walk away to go help his students.
My heart sinking at his words, finally someone who would accept me and there was no room for me. I had to do something this was my last chance to follow my dream. "But do you know anyone else that would take me on as an apprentice?" I asked as one last attempt to gain a teacher.
He stops, turns and thought for a moment, about my question. "I may know someone who can help, but let me just tell you in advance, he isn't the easiest to get along with," He warned me before, leading the way to a side door.
My mind raced, who could be talking about? I assume, since he was bringing me to an adjoining studio, that this teacher, would be a past student of his and not another maestro. We walk through the door into what I thought was a whole other world. Where Andrea's studio was open and light this new room was dark and it seemed to be cut off from everything else. There was strange-looking contraptions hanging from the ceiling and scattered around the room, there was also sketches hung up on the walls, but there were no samples of this maestro's paintings anywhere.
"Do you mind staying here for a bit? Leonardo will be coming back for this contraption in a while," Andrea said me as he pointed to what looked like a rough representation of wings that hung from the ceiling.
I froze did he say Leonardo, he must be joking there is no way he would be taking me to be apprenticed by Leonardo Da Vinci. "I don't mind waiting. Thank you," I guess I would just have to wait and see if it was Leonardo Da Vinci or not.
"It was no problem; I can't bear to see talent like yours with so much promise go to waste," Andrea says kindly as he walks to the door to get back to helping his students. He suddenly turns around with a sort of confused look on his face "Oh I forgot to ask you your name." His confusion melted away into a smile.
"I am Luca Lombardi." I reply, as I kept looking around the room in amazement, wondering what sort of mind could come up with these ideas and beautiful sketches. Is it Leonardo or someone else?
Andrea turns back around and returns to teaching his pupils. I ,on the other hand, am mesmerized by this flying contraption that was hanging from the ceiling. It looked steady enough to fly and that's what I assume it had been built for. I grabbed a chair from the table and position it under the flying machine to get a closer look as I was only about 5' 6". I was just about to touch the machine to see what the material was, when a door opened on the other side of the room.
I saw a man walk in with dark hair and dark eyes with matching facial hair around his jaw. He wore a dark brown leather jacket over his blue shirt. Following him was two other men and a woman. I jump down from off the chair
"Hey what do you think you're doing?" Yells the man with the leather jacket on. He rushes over to me and he grabbed both of my arms and pushes me against the wall. My eyes widen and my breathing quickens. This is obviously the owner of this studio and the flying contraption I was looking at.
"What are you doing here?" The man asks,obviously still angry , but quieter this time.
"I was told to wait here for the maestro of this studio to return, and I…I…I was curious about the m…m…material of the flying machine on the ceiling," I told him, trying to pull myself together and staying character.
The man in the leather jacket pulls me into Andrea's studio, up to the maestro I had just finished talking with.
"Who is this boy and why was he in my studio touching my things?" The man asks Andrea.
Everything stops in the workshop and all eyes are on us. I am unbelievably frightened at this point. If this man went to the guards, not only would my cover be blown, but my secret would be out. I could already feel the tattoos on my back rising out of my skin, as I lost control of my emotions and them.
"Now Leonardo calm down, this boy was told by me to wait in your workshop until you returned from wherever you went off to." Andrea informs Leonardo.
I couldn't see the face of the man being addressed, but I could only imagine the look of confusion on his face.
"Yes, okay, but why did you tell him to wait in my workshop, you know how delicate some of my belongings are Andrea?" Leonardo asked.
"Well my boy I believe that he was in your workshop, because I believe it is time you took on a real apprentice." Andrea told Leonardo with a very serious voice. He took Leonardo by the arm and guided him into a corner that is unoccupied by students.
I decided to take these few moments to gather my thoughts and calm my breathing. The group that had followed Leonardo walked over to me.
"Are you alright?" Asked a small blonde hair boy.
"I'm fine, I understand the way he acted, and I am really protective over my work as well." I replied trying not to get emotional and break my cover.
"I'm Nico, bye the way," he said holding out his hand.
"Luca," I replied shaking his had
Leonardo and Andrea walk back over to our little group, Leonardo not looking pleased with his maestro's decision about me.
He walks up to me and stares me right in the eye. "If you want to be my apprentice you have to do whatever I say no exceptions." He tells me sternly, and I nod as a reply. "Okay then, well to start you can get the machine you were so intent on off of the ceiling and onto the cart waiting outside." He tells me, harshly before walking out the front door of Andrea's studio with his three friends following him.
I was left alone standing in the middle of the room. Andrea walked up to me and placed a hand on my shoulder and wishes me good luck before going back to teaching. I grabbed the chair I had used and hurriedly take the flying machine off of the ceiling, and carefully maneuver it outside to the cart that was waiting outside.
I really hoped you enjoyed this, and at the same time I am also really sorry. I am completely awful at continuing stories, I always get a great idea and then my motivation slowly dies. But anyway if you liked it follow and like, and if you really liked it or hated it send me a message or do a review. And everyone thank my lovely, talented,smart, gorgeous, funny, amazingly amazing sister who edited this.