This was it.<br/><br/>The groans of the ship surrounding him served as a constant reminder that he was on his way to Idrea, to be sold to their military- no doubt because they wanted fey weaponry in their arsenals.  He wasn't certain where the other prisoners were going to.  There were several slaves aboard the vessel, and every one of them were just as grim-faced and quiet as he was.  It was all too easy to lose hope when chained up inside a dark room below deck.  Leto was bound far more than the others, being the lone faerie in the room.  The iron shackles on his wrists kept his hands spaced apart, and the iron chains wound about his body like a cocoon kept him elevated from the floor as well.  His trap swayed back and forth with each wave.  It was lucky he was unaffected by sea-travel, unlike many others down here whom had easily become sick in the week they had already spent at sea.  Worse yet, the iron kept him subdued and unable to adequately use his magic.<br/><br/>The tune changed abruptly as a shout emerged above deck.  Not that shouts were uncommon- these were sailors, after all, and they often had to shout over the roar of the ocean to order one another around.  This was especially true aboard a slaver ship.  Not all slaves were as calm as those he shared his room with.  Some of the larger prisoners were kept on the deck, having to be constantly kept down with manpower.  So, while a few shouts scattered here and there were nothing extraordinary, hearing them elevate and multiply in the manner they did began to catch the attention of the lone warden in the room.  The man grumbled, picking up his blunderbuss and trudging heavily up the staircase to investigate the noises.  The slaves all watched him go, as this was perhaps the most interesting thing to happen during the entire length of the expedition thus far.  Dim moonlight filtered in as he opened the hatch overhead, and popped his head out.  It immediately came off.<br/><br/>The slaves watched in stunned silence as his body dropped to the floor and his head rolled next to it.  The ship began to lurch, and now with the hatch wide open, the sounds of battle were clearly heard in the quarters.  The dozen or so in the room began to panic.  Leto was unable to move at all, with the chains binding his form tightly in their grasp, but the other prisoners began scrambling toward the warden's body, some with their long limbs outstretched.  As the ship lurched again, his head came rolling across the floor, and was caught by a young female with feline features.  The ship tilted again, and the warden's body slid a little closer.  She chucked the severed head at the wall, striking loose a discipline rack.<br/><br/>Another slave managed to grab hold of the whip, and ended up being a rather good shot.  He wound it round the warden's ankle, and with a great heave the body was pulled close enough to secure the man's keys.  There was a lively and excited commotion as they were passed around, each slave freeing themselves in turn until it was only Leto left.  The rest of them went to work unbinding his iron chains and unlocking the bars on his arms.  He dropped roughly to the floor and before he could even get up the rest of them disappeared into the open night.<br/><br/>Leto remained there a moment in a daze, still weak from the iron.  He could feel his strength returning slowly, and the haze which had previously taken hold of his mind was gone.  His bright golden eyes peered up at the open hatch- freedom, he assumed.  He could hear the chaos outside elevating, but when he finally made it onto the deck, it seemed the sounds were severely underwhelming compared to what was actually going down.<br/><br/>There were bodies everywhere.  Some were bloodied and lying face-up on the deck, some with hooks in their necks.  Some were charred, and some were floating in the water below, where they were soon pulled under by the creatures in the depths.  Some were human, others were not, but very quickly it became apparent what was happening.  The slaves were revolting, and it looked like they were winning.<br/><br/>His shock was short-lived as another lurch rocked the ship, accompanied by a massive crashing sound.  The vessel took on a distinct tilt, and it didn't take him long to guess what had happened.  Leto crawled to the edge of the ship and peered down at the water, where a large hole had appeared and was very rapidly filling the hull with seawater.  Now, it didn't matter who won in the end, because a sunken ship would quickly attract the attention of the merpeople, and they didn't care who they looted.  They would all die.  He had to do something.<br/><br/>The young faerie kept low as he crossed the deck, trying to stay out of the crossfire whilst the other slaves continued to pick apart the crew.  If it weren't for the ship taking on water, he would have been joining them, but he was no fighter, and he knew his place here.  If anyone could stop this from happening, he could.<br/><br/>He found his way below deck and into the engine room, where the seawater was already gushing in and up to his shins.  He waded through it as quickly as he could manage, trying to find something he could use to plug it up with.  The engine seemed to hiss in protest as the seawater disturbed its inner workings.  If he took anything from the engine itself, it would surely make matters worse.  He needed to find something else.  There was an engineer in the room trying his best to keep the engine going, but it would be no use if the place was underwater.  That's when he spied the wrench in his hand.<br/><br/>“I need that,” he called, and swam toward the human who whirled in surprise.  He didn't seem to like the idea that one of the escaped slaves had made it into his safe sanctuary, but the man had little room to panic any more than he already was with the water now up to their necks.  He could still hear the engine chugging underneath the water and he didn't think it would last much longer at this rate.  Leto wrestled the wrench from the human's hands and kicked off of the wall.  The wrench was used to unhinge the door to the engine room, and when it was freed, he pulled it under and pushed it against the breach in the hull with his legs.  His magic pooled into it and began to fuse it to the wall.  It was a botched patch, but it would work for now.<br/><br/>There was still the water to worry about.  The breach may have been sealed shut, but the water was still weighing them all down, and it was going to fry the engine soon.  Leto wracked his brain for something, anything, which could guide it out.  Human magic could easily evaporate it, but he didn't know how to do that.  All he knew was how to make trinkets, and weapons.<br/><br/>Weapons.<br/><br/>He ran above deck again, and he didn't have to search far to find an unused cannon.  Leto smashed a hole through the floor with one of the massive balls of ammunition before returning below deck.  He knew it would involve taking something from the engine, but at this point, he was certain the engine wouldn't work anyway.  He pulled one of the pipes and fed it overhead, into the cannon, and the other end rested on the floor.  A new surge of magic fused the pipe to the bottom of its bore.<br/><br/>Once again he returned to the deck, and this time he took up behind the cannon.  He placed his hands on either side and took aim at a cluster of human slavers, then imbued his magic into the cannon.  It began firing the water at them with impressive pressure, draining out the water from the engine room whilst pushing the slavers off of the ship at the same time.  Leto was careful to avoid hitting any of the slaves, and when no more of the slavers were within his range, he spun it around and allowed the rest of it to drain out into the ocean.<br/><br/>Slowly, the sounds of fighting began to die down.  The cannon had run out of water, and eventually dissolved to just a trickle through the bore.  He wanted to return below deck again and tend to the damaged engine, but he was so gobsmacked by the events above that he settled to sitting on top of the cannon, taking it all in.  His long, bony fingers laced into each other as he observed his new surroundings.  Someone had tied up the few remaining slavers, which included the captain, and lined them up before the foremast, their bloodied shirts like a red beacon under the pale moon.  Leto was one of few words himself, but the whole ship was all quiet now, as if the shock of what had just happened seemed to leave them all collectively speechless and uncertain of what would happen next.<br/><br/>Somehow, they had won.