Morning Star

Chapter 8: white walls | Kelvin

What had I told Peter and Sarah, from what seemed like a lifetime ago?

I'm starting to think you guys have nothing better to do with your lives but annoy me.

Oh, I was going to kick their sorry asses when I saw them. I hadn't come to that picnic only to be knocked out, most likely from their reckless actions - or Liam's illusions.

With an effort, I forced my eyes open, and I was almost blinded by the intensity of the white walls that surrounded me. I froze from where I lay.

Where am I?

Glowing balls of light flickered above me, quite unnecessary, since the white of the walls were more than enough to brighten the room. Strange white tables of some sort were lined up in perfect rows along the wall, each having a pile of what seemed like tiny metal tools spread out across its surface.

Other than that, the building was completely silent. I wasn't stupid enough to believe it was empty, however. Someone had brought me here, and it was likely that they were watching me.

Days of training with the rebels of Eirazelle had taught me not to panic when in an unfamiliar situation. "Scan your surroundings. Analyse the potential threat, if any," Samidha had instructed. She had been the weapons master of Ullanyth HQ, and had been especially talented. However, she had perished in the final battle against the Queen of Diamonds. It was a cruel reminder that despite one's talent, they were still mortal, and therefore vulnerable.

I slowly clambered off the bed, stretching out a hand to summon a sword to my side - but nothing appeared. Frowning, I tried again, reaching down deep inside me for my magic, but I felt nothing. It was as if it had never existed.

"Don't panic," Samidha's voice resonated through my head, and I listened. If I wasn't scared before, I definitely was now. Never had my magic failed me. However, I took deep breaths, fighting to stay calm.

Firstly, I had to find Eva, Peter, Sarah and Liam.

Where were they? Were they here, with me?

Footsteps sounded from further away, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I backed away, grabbing a particularly sharp metal tool from one of the tables, and crouched behind the door as a man walked in.

He appeared to be middle aged, with greying brown hair. He was slender - or really, a little frail, judging from his gnarled hands, and the green veins that stood out so clearly against his pale skin.

I hesitated. This man did not seem like a threat.

While I paused, the man turned a slow circle, and eventually spotted me, hiding beside the wall. His features softened, giving him a more friendly look despite his extremely sharp cheekbones and the dark eyes that seemed like endless pits.

"Don't be afraid," he said gently, beckoning me to him, as if I were a child and he were my father. "I'm not going to hurt you."

I gripped the metal tool harder, rising up out of my crouch. "Who are you?"

"Name's Jason," the man replied easily, without missing a beat. "I'm a scientist, and this lab - the building you're in now - is like my second home. What you're holding in your hand is one of my scalpels."

I frowned, caught off guard by how trusting he seemed, and from his use of strange words that I didn't understand. "A scalpel?"

Jason cocked his head to the side, looking surprised. "You don't know what a scalpel is?" He laughed. "Perhaps those don't exist where you're from."

"Where am I?" I asked, feeling my face heat up in embarrassment.

"I already told you. You're in my lab," Jason strode to the bed where I had been lying on, and busied himself with smoothing out the white blankets that I had kicked aside. "Now, time for my question. Who are you?"