The market was where he first got his start. Young Atlas had been living on the street since he could remember...he didn't know his last name, didn't have a need for one. He also couldn't tell you just who his parents were and he didn't really care. When begging didn't work, he turned to thieving and had soon become quite the accomplished pick-pocket.
But for the reward, it wasn't without perils. Many times when he first started he had been caught and nearly lost his life. But in the sprawling city of Solis there were always places to hide, and people willing to offer shelter from the guards...for a price. The years passed and he grew into a fit young man of six feet, with straw blond hair and eye's of light amber.
He had barely come into his sixteenth year when he came across another thief, a woman by the name of Ella. She took him under her wing, teaching him everything she hard learned in her twenty-some years. Two years passed, and Atlas remembered it as two of the happiest years of his life. Then, as suddenly as she came she was gone...
- - -
Amazons were not an uncommon sight. Their soldiers were well trained, disciplined and dedicated to the art of war. Any soldier who had fought them and survived would attest to that. It was also a well known fact that they would NOT be taken alive. They would sooner kill themselves then be captured...it was the way of things.
So, when one showed up for sale in the underworld it attracted some attention...as well as the attention of Atlas. Now, let it be said that his thieving was not motivated by greed, or compulsion. It was necessity that drove him to thievery. The need to survive. Though, just occasionally like ALL young men...he felt the need to show off.
This Amazon was a prize in herself. He knew that any man would pay a vast sum simply to boast that he owned an amazon woman. It was rareity that Atlas knew had attracted the attention of even the king, though he would no doubt deny it. "...Let me see if I understand this," drawls Vergil. "You are goint to...steal another person?"
"Exactly," responds Atlas, staring down at the crowded streets. A wry grin appears on his young face at the thought of that. "Tonight...the Prince of Thieves is going to steal from the king himself." Vergil crouches down and smiles.
"Well, I believe that's called kidnapping. Though, only YOU would think of doing something this foolish...and you are the only one who could pull it off. Perhaps that is why you are the Guild Master, eh, Prince?" He glances up at the blond and then sighs. "So how ARE you going to do it?"
"Now, that's a secret."
"Well, then, what are you going to do once you have her?" Atlas simply shrugs in response. "You don't know? It's not like you can sell her again."
"I calculate that once I do this, it will be the end of my stay in this city." He looks down both sides of the street. "I have a pair of horses waiting outside the city gates. Once we're free then I'll send her on her way." Vergil nodded. "Now...if you'll excuse me. I have some things to do." He turns and sprints across the roof-top, jumps the gap to the next building and dashes up a wall. He grasps the ledge hauls himself up and continues on his way.
Time passes, and soon dusk is upon the city. Atlas had visited every one of his contacts for information, and had located the his target. The slaver had gone to GREAT lengths to keep his identiy a secret. No doubt for fear of being attacked, or black-mailed into turning over the Amazon.
The Prince headed towards the man, with the crowd and the slaver paid him absolutely no mind. As he passed, with a steady hand and calm nerves born of years of practice, he relieved the man of his keys. The man paused several steps from Atlas and glanced back...before dismissing the whole thing and continuing on his way. The young thief smiled a bit to himself as he approached the slavers house.
He unlocked the door and entered, closing the door silently behind himself. Finding the man's safe was an easy task...cracking it took time however, more then Atlas cared to admit considering how good he was as such things. When the tumbles finally fell into place he opened the door and smiled as he beheld all the gold, and more importantly the location of the Amazon.
He KNEW that the slaver wouldn't keep her where he sold all the other's from, it was like keeping a diamond out in the open for all to see. It simply isn't a good idea if you want to keep it...
- - -
She was humiliated, disgraced. Before she had had a chance to end her life, she had been captured and restrained. Now she was going to sold into slavery. She had remained unspoiled for now, but that pride would be stripped from her when she was sold. Illia held her head in silence...no tears, simply acceptence. Tonight, she would be sold.
She had ceased struggling against her bonds, having nearly dislocated her shoulders from the position pinned to the wall. Her eye's opened slightly when she heard foot-steps on the cold stone floor. The person approached her cell and she heard the key in the lock. Steeling herself, Illia attempted to glare at whoever dared to come through the door, though the position prevented it.
The hinges loudly protested their use, and lack of oil as the heavy wooden and iron door swung open...but there was no one there. For several long, timeless moments there was no sound except for her not heavier breathing, and the thundering of her heart. When she started to relax, someone stepped in and her pulse lept.
From the awkward position she could only see the person's feet. He wore black boots, that were obviously knee high. There were several buckles running the side, and she assumed they went to the top of the leather. More then his foot-wear, she could not tell. "Are you the bastard who bought me?" she spat. "You dishonorible, cowardly, piece of shit!"
"Well, technically, I AM a bastard but I don't know about the other stuff," taunts the male. There's a sudden 'click' and she lurches forward, landing flat on her face. Her arms, which had been numb, began to tingle and prickle as the blood rushed back into the apendages. "And I'm not buying you...I'm stealing you."
"You're worse then those others, then!" He laughs and crouches down. The boots were knee high, and he wore black woolen trousers, with a leather belt with several pouches on it. His tunic was sleeveless, and near form fitting with a hood to hide his face. It split open into two halfs at the bottom, and hung open near the neck. He had two thick leather bracelets, one around each wrist and a silvery ring on his finger. The man grasped her arms and shackled them together. Illia was furious. Bad enough to be captured, then freed. Now he had bound her hands once more. "Damn you..."
"Well, I simply can't have you trying to kill me when I'm stealing you, can I?" He gave her a quick once over, quickly finding her arms to be useless. "I see your arms are still numb...how about your legs?"
"I refuse to assist you, you cur! Son of--" He placed a hand over her mouth and sighed heavily.
"Don't make me gag you. Because I will." He moved his hand and once more she began her insulting. True to his word, he gagged her with a bit of cloth and then lifted her, throwing her over his shoulder and exiting the cell. Illia would not deny she was happy to be free of that damned cell...however, as it stood she was prefer the waiting to this man.
