Hello! Thank you so much for checking out this story.
It's kind of a way for me to get back in the groove of writing again, so it'll take a while for me to truly get comfortable and relaxed.
Reviews are the only way how I know what you think of it, so please leave one!
I don't own Assassin's Creed or Leonardo da Vinci. But I wish.
The old and weathered cobblestone roads had the fresh and calming stench of hay, I noticed, as my barefoot toes inched their way along them.
My newly purchased shoes hung from their leather laces, swinging like an open-mouthed hangman with each step. These leather boots were terribly uncomfortable, for they rubbed vigorously at the soles and heels of my tender feet.
I believe I already had stinging blisters from the discomfort, but I wasn't entirely sure. The ice-cold puddles I stepped in thankfully numbed my feet, saving me from the pain. I sighed in relief, but my newfound comfort was disrupted by a terrifying sound coming from right behind me.
The chilled numbness from my feet slowly but surely seemed to transfer up my back, and made sure to tenderly scramble down my shoulder blades.
More out of curiosity than fear, I cautiously stepped around. A few paces away lay a young man, his body disgruntled and bloody. My hands flew up to my open mouth. I was frozen, until a few seconds later; a woman pushed me away to get a good look at what had happened.
What had caused him to suddenly die like that? What had I heard?
No, I wasn't entirely sure what I heard. A scream, bones cracking? The slosh of blood over worn stone? The more dominant sound of a horse's hooves clomping had overmasked it. I was glad; I didn't want to hear whatever had happened.
Although the noise was masked, the image wasn't. The man would later prove to reappear in my dreams, his death often occurring in a multitude of ways.
What was wrong with this city? I wondered as I briskly stepped away from the small pool of blood trailing from the man. I knew older times such as these were a bit more… relaxed on laws concerning citizens. But this was the Renaissance, and I had expected wondrous manners and chivalry. Not… this.
My gaze traveled over to an unfamiliar face in the forever plenty puddles of Venice. There, gazing at me was a young person who wore his short and hacked brunette locks fastened into a tiny ponytail with a green strip of cloth. His face leaned on the delicate side, for he had a pixie-like upturned nose and a coy but knowing smile. I reached up to brush the hair from my eyes, and the reflection mirrored my movements. I looked passable enough.
I tried my hardest to disguise myself, in general my gender, and I was silently praying that no one saw through my web of lies. However, no one apparently did. I got no stares, not even any recognition – a relief on my part.
In order for my intricate plan to work, this had to go right. I couldn't be an apprentice if I looked like a woman, could I? The only options for women in the 15th century for jobs were courtesans, nuns, or quite possibly seamstresses. And heaven forbid I wasn't open to any of those options.
So, I planned to go to the only person in Venice who I actually knew of. Leonardo da Vinci.
With each minute, the world surrounding me became darker. Night was falling, and I was still wandering around this blasted city. I had to get shelter quickly, or trouble might arise.
I trotted over to one of the shops with the unidentifiable signs, gazing warily at the man leaning over the counter and cooing offers to people passing by. He looked sneaky and secretive, which set me at a state of unease. I would have to be careful with this man.
"Um, excuse me, sir?" my girlish voice piped up. With alarm I coughed and asked again, only in a slightly deeper voice. His head whipped around to meet my eyes, and he grinned a Cheshire cat grin.
"Hello, how can I help you?" he asked.
"I was wondering if you know where the artist Leonardo da Vinci's workshop is," I replied, crossing all my fingers behind my back.
"Oh, the new artist?" I nodded. "He lives just around the corner; you can't miss it."
"Thank you, sir," I chimed before walking away. I wasn't entirely sure that his claims would be right, but it was my only lead thus far. Might as well try. If all else failed, I could ask whoever lived in the house I would be intruding on.
The leather shoelaces had begun to grow slippery in my grasp, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could manage. Wiping my delicate palms on my new trousers, I grabbed a better hold of them and swung vigorously. The swinging brought forth a rather pleasant breeze to my aching palms.
In just a few short strides, I had arrived at the small workshop the sly man had told me of. Was this truly the workshop of the famous Leonardo da Vinci? I quivered with excitement just thinking about it. However, if it wasn't I had a pair of heavy-duty boots in my right hand, perfect for a make-shift weapon.
I took a minute or two to gather my composure before knocking on the intricately carved wooden door. After calming my nerves, I finally knocked.
Rat-a-tat-tat.
My knock seemed to penetrate into the wood, but I soon knew it hadn't, for I heard scrambling around inside. Finally, the door began to cautiously open, and I instinctively held my breath.
Out stepped a young man, in his mid to late twenties. His blond hair and blue eyes were characteristics unlike any I had seen so far in Venice.
The corners of my mouth slightly upturned at the sight of him.
He seemed kind, and I was sure he'd be delighted to take me on as an apprentice. My confidence rose significantly. The man pursed his lips and tilted his head curiously, as if getting ready to ask a complicated question.
"Can I help you with anything, signore?" he inquired.
I bristled at him calling me 'sir', but then remembered my disguise and hid my feelings. This was what I wanted him to think, I reminded myself.
"Yes, sir. Are you…?" I stuttered, my heart thumping. This was my chance – I had to take control of it.
"Are you Signore Leonardo da Vinci…?" I asked, rapid heartbeat receding.
He curtly nodded, and grinned. Inwardly, I squealed at my good fortune. I hoped I wasn't pushing my already bountiful luck.
"Do you happen to be taking any um, apprenticeships at the moment?"
Please say yes, please say yes. This was the only way I'd be able to truly survive in Venice. I knew nothing much else about it. With another's guidance, I could get by. I needed this.
His crystal eyes met my apprehensive green ones. "You'd like to become an artist?" he sincerely replied. I silently nodded.
I had drawing skill, but not like my prodigy sister. I could draw quite well, however.
His questioning lips broke into yet another charming smile. "Welcome aboard," he said.
Leonardo's blazing fireplace brought forth comfort to my aching body.
I sat next to the flames, drowsily chatting with my new teacher. The luxurious warmth was making me fall in and out of dreamland every few minutes, creating wonderful thoughts of home.
"I don't think I ever caught your name, young man. What is it, if you don't mind me asking?" Leonardo asked curiously, taking note of my exhausted exterior.
Oh no. I hadn't thought of a name. I couldn't use my name – it was too much of a woman's name. A memory of my best friend in second grade came flooding back to me. He was born in Italy and moved back at the end of the school year. I bid silent thanks to him, and used his name. I always thought it was pretty.
"Renzo," I told him. A pang of guilt for lying stung me in the gut.
Leonardo seemed not to notice my conflicted emotion, and heartily told me to go get some sleep.
"I have a guest bedroom that you can stay in. Make yourself at home." He led me to the small room near the front of the house and opened the door for me. Inside, it was beautiful. The window that traced the front wall had a lattice in it, wrapped with beautiful ivy vines. To my right was a rather large dresser, for what I assumed was for storage. The bed looked the most inviting, fluffy pillows laying near its headboard and a beautiful, warm-looking blanket laying on its surface. It looked like heaven right now.
"Alright, Renzo. Night clothes are in that dresser there – help yourself. Get some sleep and we'll talk more in the morning. Okay?" Leonardo advised. I nodded in response and bid him good night, watching him close the door behind him.
I shuffled over to the ornate dresser, tugging on the handles until I found a drawer of simple white linens that seemed to be pajamas. I sighed, pulling off my tunic in one swift movement. Wrappings lined my torso to hide my bust, not that I really needed it. I decided to keep it on at night, just in case. I raised my arms and slipped the basic loose shirt over my head, giggling as static plastered my brunette hair to my forehead. After exchanging my trousers for comfortable loose pants, I removed the delicate ribbon holding my ponytail and looked into the mirror.
Here it was, bedtime. I felt so lonely without my family, my sister, my time period. All day I had been pondering on how I had gotten here. There were no plausible answers. Did Julia miss me? Of course she did. But what if she didn't even know I was gone? Thoughts of home broke down my usually rock-solid emotions, and tears began to flow.
I felt so weak, crying like a baby. But I just couldn't will myself to stop. Quivering and trying to control my tears, I flopped onto the small bed and tried to distract myself with thoughts of city life in Venice. It didn't work.
Before I knew it, I had succumbed into the darkness and comfort of the bed as silent sobs lulled me to sleep.