• When I woke up, I was completely confused. Everything was white. The walls, the ceiling, the lights, the sheets and blanket, everything was a bright, painful white. “You're awake.” I turned my head. A boy, about 17 years old and about 6'2” with pale skin like my own, was sitting in a chair next to me. His spiked black hair had multi-coloured tips and was drooping into his eyes, one of which was a jade green and the other a startling blue. “You’ve been asleep for the past 7 hours. Honestly, the surgeons and doctors thought you wouldn’t wake up this soon, if at all.” I was confused. Struggling, I started to sit up, but the boy gently pushed me down. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. Your wound will open up. You’re probably in pain. Here, I’ll call the doctor to check in on you.” He reached for the remote, still talking. “Why are you actually listening to me? You weren’t last night. In fact, they say that’s why your wounds are so bad.” I bolted upright and grabbed the boy’s hand an inch from the button. He looked at me, clearly surprised by my sudden speed and tolerance to pain. “No, don’t summon the dottores! They’ll kill me,” I rasped. He shook his head. “They’ll…” he began, but I cut him off. “Los dottores are really Templares working for their master. Should they know what I am, they will kill me. And you, since you’ve been found with me.” He was clearly more confused than I was a moment ago. “Do you have the dagger, boy?” I asked urgently. “Yes, but my name isn’t ‘boy’, it’s Jaymz. Clearly you need medication.” He hit the button with his other hand. “Damn you, boy! You just signed our death warrants!” The doctor walked into the room.