Two days passed since he stole that foreigner's bag of coins and although he did it so many times before, he was troubled by his thoughts. He didn't need the money. Neither did his brother. With their grandfather being a wealthy noble and part of the Ducal Council, they lived in one of the most sumptuous palaces in Venice. And yet, they were stealing from everyone they could. Rich, poor, it didn't matter to them. They did it for fun.

Feliciano was still shaken up by the man's words and the look in his eyes when Lovino threatened him... It was too much for Feliciano. He had to step in for him or else he would've gotten much worse than being robbed that day.

He couldn't rest. He wasn't at ease.

He jumped up from the velvet red chair in the salon of their palazzo, almost knocking it down from his forward lurch. He ran to the entrance, grabbing his dark green silken cloak and tying it under his neck. Stepping out of the palazzo, he headed for the nearest deck with a gondola and gondolier waiting by it. The man by the boat greeted him while he skillfully jumped in.

"To the church," Feliciano said. The gondolier nodded, pushing the gondola onward with his foot on the deck. It didn't take long until the he stopped the wooden boat next to a different deck near a smaller plaza. Feliciano jumped out and tossed a coin to the man in the boat.

The church was standing in the end of a minor, constricted square, surrounded by other stone buildings almost as tall as the church itself. He swiftly skipped every other step leading up to the massive wooden doors and pushed them open.

Despite the church being rather miniature when compared to the other ones in Venice, it was completely filled with colourful paintings, frescos and statues. Behind the altar stood a polyptych with a golden frame connecting paintings into a complete, huge one. Feliciano looked around, observing the immensely decorated church and feeling delighted to be surrounded by such beautiful artworks. Ever since he was a small child, he loved the arts. Music, sculptures, architecture; he enjoyed all of it. But most of all, he loved paintings. There was something in the world of colours, pigments and shades that seemed so divine to him. All these items, carefully placed on a plain white canvas to create a new scenery…it was something that could be entirely frozen forever in time.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed the wooden confessional on the side of the altar. His throat was dry and he bit the inside of his cheek.

He never liked to confess. Not that he was a bad person with a lot of sins. Not at all! In fact, he attended every Sunday mass with his grandfather and brother, always respecting and following the rules. He even gave money back to the poor. 'How ironic,' He thought, exhaling heavily.

Feliciano stepped in the confessional and kneeled down with his head lowered.

"In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti," He began with familiar words, not even noticing the way they spilled from his lips. "Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been four days since my last confession..."

"Feliciano?" A familiar voice came from the other side of the confessional. "Is that you, my son?"

He grimaced. "Yes, Father."

The priest exhaled heavily. "…What did your brother make you do this time?"

Feliciano stayed silent for a while, thinking about Lovino. His brother was the one who made him steal just for his own fun, and Feliciano could never say no to any of his ideas, even though he knew he was doing something bad.

"Let me hear it, my son." said the priest, accepting the confession of this boy once more.

"It was two day ago, Father. My brother and I went into town disguised as the commoners with our friends again. We were strolling in the city when my brother saw a strange man in a black cape. He was clearly a foreigner, and Lovino decided we will steal his coin pouch. Umm, I mean, that I will." Feliciano scratched the back of his head in his awkwardness. "I ran into him, knocked him down and stole his money. He didn't notice anything until I started running away. He followed me to where Lovino and our friends waited and I tried to warn him..." Feliciano gave a hard swallow down his throat. "The foreigner was so angry at me for stealing from him but all I could think was how to help him so he wouldn't get beaten. I warned my brother about the guards and Lovino set the man free."

"You did the right thing." The priest said. Lately, he had to listen a lot about Lovino and how he got his little brother to do all sort of reckless things. He felt sorry for Feliciano always being dictated around by him, so whenever he had to listen to the confession of the restless boy, he tried his best to comfort him. "The only thing you did immoral was blindly following your brother's wishes and not thinking for yourself. He should be kneeling down in front of God instead of you right now."

Feliciano stayed silent, knowing full well that his brother was not going to confess anytime soon.

"As for your penance," The priest continued. "You must find the man you stole the money from and return it, reflect on what you've done, and your sins will be forgiven."

"But Father..." Feliciano's eyes were wide in shock. He expected the priest to give him a few prayers, possibly a chapter in the Bible to read but not this...

"Don't question me, my son." The priest raised his voice. "No prayer will make you feel better than doing the right thing. Besides, facing the man might make you think before your brother tells you to do something reckless next time." Feliciano felt dizzy and his limbs felt weak and boneless. "God's guidance works in miraculous ways. Follow your heart and you will please our Lord and put your soul at ease."

As Feliciano stepped back in the gondola, he still couldn't fathom what he had to do. All of this made him so much more uneasy than he was before and he almost regretted going to the confession. One thing was for sure now; he had to do what the priest told him in order to redeem his soul.

.

Feliciano climbed his way up the stairs and opened the old wooden door of the big, spacious atelier. The room was filled with outside light from the many windows. Numerous canvases of various sizes were leaning on the walls; some empty and waiting to be used, but most already painted with beautiful bright colours.

"Buongiorno, signore!" Feliciano called.

"Veneziano, my boy, is that you?"

"Si, signore!" Feliciano walked inside the room, peering around and checking to see if any new paintings have come or if any of the old ones were sold. An old man was hunched in front of a canvas in the middle of the room. He didn't move his eyes from the painting he was working on. Ancient hands were mixing the paint on the wooden plank next to him. As Feliciano stood behind his back, he could see the unfinished painting. A black background was surrounding the delicate face of a woman with bright long locks falling on her shoulders, faintly covering her almost exposed breasts. She was smiling shyly, although a lot of her skin was exposed. Her eyes were painted in dark brown, almost black, and something about the look in those painted dark orbs seemed so devilish to Feliciano.

"I don't have enough green," The old man said, still mixing the paint and not moving his eyes off the painting. Feliciano rushed to the big open chest placed next to the wall. He looked inside it, moving some jars, paper wraps, brushes and small wooden boxes.

"It looks like we're completely out of green," Feliciano said. "Should I go and buy some for you?"

"Yes, that would be appreciated." The old man stood up. His black clothes were full of paint as well as his white beard. He stretched his arms and back while walking to Feliciano. "I need to finish the portrait by the end of the next week." The painter put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a few silver coins. "I wouldn't like to make this noble wait." He said with a hint of concern.

"Si, signore!" Feliciano took the coins and hurried out of the atelier.

"Veneziano!" The elder stopped him and it made Feliciano turn to look back at him. "Be careful!"

"Don't worry, signore!" Feliciano smiled brightly before he closed the door and skipped down the stairs.

The old master Vecellio was a nice man. The moment the rumours were spread across the city that he was in need of a new apprentice, Feliciano was dying to take the position. The only problem was that no artist, whether famous or not, wanted to enrage any noble by taking in their son, or in Feliciano's case, grandson, as an apprentice. Art was for the nobles to enjoy and to brag about, comparing their own portraits with others. But no noble was an artist. Could anyone imagine the shame and rumours if somebody were to find out that a noble was sitting in some atelier, mixing paints and stroking their brush on a canvas? Outrageous!

That was why Feliciano had to take up a new name. And oh, how creative and oh, so witty he was with his new name! Why couldn't he take something more common as Marco or Luca? There were plenty of Marcos or Lucas in Venice. Yet the only name he could think of when the master asked his name was Veneziano. So stupid, he thought to himself.

All of this was, again, Lovino's idea. When Feliciano came rushing to his room one day with news he heard while he was strolling in the city, Lovino came up with the idea of dressing up as a commoner and then asking for the position of an apprentice.

And so Feliciano agreed to this game of pretence, only because he desperately wanted to have such a master as old master Vecellio. Feliciano did not want anyone know who he was, neither him nor especially their grandfather.

The old master never asked many questions, though. He would simply wave and mumble something about youth nowadays when Feliciano didn't know how to do something servants usually do, or to go somewhere in the city where no nobles would go when asked to. Feliciano was grateful for his old master's patience. But the pleasure between the master and the apprentice was mutual. Vecellio was lucky to have such a skillful apprentice, even though he was blissfully ignorant and took everything so lightly, as if he hadn't ever had to go through any sort of struggle in his life. His brush strokes were marvellous and his colouring amazing. The boy's ability of noticing details and putting them precisely on canvas was outstanding and Vecellio was surprised with each new painting Feliciano would work on.

Little did Vecellio know that Feliciano, in fact, didn't have a single worry in his life as a grandson of a noble in the Ducal Council.

It had been around two years since Feliciano took up a new name, old clothes and the apprentice position. And it was also around two years since Lovino, inspired by his little brother dressing up and pretending to be an actual apprentice, came up with the idea of dressing himself up and enjoying the simple life of a commoner. At first, Lovino and Feliciano would dress up in old rags and simply stroll around Venice, meeting common people and exploring the parts of the city too unusual for nobles. When the real commoner boys they made friends with decided to join in, it was when Lovino came up with yet another of his brilliant ideas.

So they started stealing to have more fun, or to show off how cunning Lovino was, Feliciano wasn't sure. It started with an apple in the marker plaza or with a bagel or two in the bakery, but soon enough, they started stealing coins from the nobles and ended up taking the complete pouches full of it.

It was all so much fun for Lovino! He was so bored when he had to behave well during some dinner or tea party or, even worse, the ball. When he put worn out clothes on and smudged his hands and face, so he wouldn't stick out like the clean noble he was, his face would light up with pure joy. He felt so free and alive!

Feliciano was happy for his brother to have a break from the stuck up and stiff behaviour he had to fake daily, but as soon as they started to steal, he became so worried and ended going to church every now and then to confess his sins.

It was another bright sunny day. The streets were full of people; the markets filled with fruits and vegetables, colourful fabrics, daggers and beautifully decorated weapons along with all sorts of other goods. Even the rare ones like spices. Salty sea air was mixed with the smell of basil and rosemary and somewhere in the corner of the big plaza were some performers playing with the lute and the drums.

Feliciano knew where he had to go to buy what his master needed. A stand on the market filled with canvases, brushes, quills and powders for colours.

The merchant already knew who Feliciano was. After all, Feliciano was the only apprentice Vecellio had, so he was the only one to do all of his tasks like getting new brushes or whatever else he needed.

"Only the green one today," Feliciano tugged on his simple brown cap covering his face, careful to not to be accidentally noticed by either one on the servants or nobles.

He was given the brown package full of green powder his master needed. Terra Verde were the swirly black letters that was labelled on the package. He gave the silver coins to the merchant and started heading back.

The market plaza was filled with the rich, poor, servant, and noble. But in this mess of people, it didn't matter. Everyone was welcome to spend their coins on various goods and everyone seem to equally enjoy it.

Feliciano cheerfully pranced between everyone, carrying the package of colour and humming a melody. He was looking forward to coming back in the atelier. He had yet to find out on which painting will he be working today and the thought of holding a brush in his hand made him even happier.

But suddenly, he felt strong grip on his wrist.

He gasped in shock, turning his head to see who it was. As he turned around, he faced somebody's chest and had to look up to see the face of a man. His eyes met a pair of crystal blue eyes.

'Azzurrite?' He thought to himself trying to remember what had Vecellio though him about colours and pigments 'No! Azzurrite is too dark. Blu oltremare, perhaps? No, not that one either...' He occupied himself trying to figure out the correct shade of blue of the eyes he was mesmerized with, but what he didn't notice was the rage in the man's exhibited.

"You!"

As the man shouted, Feliciano snapped out of his thoughts, and the memory came rushing to his head. It was then when he finally recognized the man, but now his wrist was being held so tightly, Feliciano was sure he would get a bruise.

'You must find the man you stole the money from and return it, reflect on what you've done, and your sins will be forgiven...' the priest's words echoed in his head. By God, he had been planning on doing it! He had to redeem his soul! But what he didn't expect was coming across the man so soon. He wasn't ready to face him. Not now. Not like this.

"Little thief!" The man hissed through his clenched teeth, his heavy foreign accent piercing the air between them. Feliciano started shaking in fear.

"Signore, per favore..." Feliciano caught himself pleading. Was he about to beg? His brain stopped functioning and was now completely blank. He was on his own, and neither Lovino nor any of his friends were there to help him out his time. In his fear and confusion, he raised his foot and jammed it down as heavily as he could on other man's boot.

The man recoiled back, cursing and swearing in some strange language and slightly loosened up the grip he had on Feliciano's wrist. It was just enough for Feliciano's slender hand to slip out of his grasp and as soon as he was released, he started sprinting.

He rushed to the street that led out of the plaza to the inner canals. He quickly crossed the first bridge and continued running to a tighter street with a tall marble building nearby. His body was still shaking in fear when he decided to look behind him to make sure he was not being followed like he was before.

He was alone. Nobody was there. Feliciano stopped running. His lungs were painfully gasping for some air and his legs felt tired. 'How did this man find me?' he thought to himself, trying to make his shaky legs to continue walking his way back to the atelier. He looked down at both of his hands. They were completely empty. He must have slipped the package with colour while he was fleeing.

"Stupido!" He shouted, kicking the air angrily with his leg. He couldn't risk going back to look for the package or to buy a new one. But he couldn't go back to his master empty handed either.

"Stupido!" He shouted yet again, this time louder.

"Looking for this?" The voice was weak and out of breath, but still coherent.

Terra Verde. That's what was written on the package almost shoved in his face. Feliciano felt the grip on his collar. The man was slightly picking him up off the ground.

"You can't run away now, little rat, can you?" said the man with his cold and stern voice. His blue orbs fixed on Feliciano's now watery eyes. God save his helpless soul...

To be continued…

In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti = In the name of the Father, the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Buongiorno, signore! = Good day, sir!

Si, signore! = Yes, sir!

Terra verde, azzurrite and blu oltremare are colour pigments typically used in renaissance paintings.

terra verde = green earth

azzurrite = azurit

blu oltremare = ultramarine

Signore, per favore... = Sir, please…

Stupido! = (I'm) stupid!

Note: Once more I have to thank Kirani56 for an amazing job with beta-ing my texts and generally helping me out so much! Please, make sure to check her profile, you can find her in my favorite authors. Also, thank you very much for your help ludwig . fan!

All the possible mistakes, both grammatical and/or historical, are made by me.