"Yes, I am," Milo replied behind closed eyes. His extremities were tingling, he had been sleeping for a long time without moving, most likely days, and his arms and legs had fallen asleep. He didn't move, still as he woke. He was gauging his strength, isolating his pains and measuring them.<br/><br/>"You are the Headmistress," he stated bluntly, finally opening his eyes, blinded by the light in the room. He had remembered in his sleep, almost everything. He knew his family was dead, Tinashe along with them or a slave to the brigands that attacked his ocean-home. He almost hoped she was dead. At least there she would be safe from their tortures.<br/><br/>"Why did you bring me here?" he asked, almost accused, the Headmistress, looking at her for the first time (((what does she look like?))) since he woke.<br/><br/>Bracing himself with his arms, he pushed himself upright, gritting against the pain twisting his back. The wound on his side had healed up enough to allow movement, but he was incredibly weakened. He doubted he'd be able to walk for a long time.<br/><br/>Sitting upright, his sheets bunched around his waist, he realized he was wearing a warm, linen shirt, cream coloured. He was wearing equally comfortable trousers. "You should have let me leave this world with the rest of my family."