"Well, luckily, neither of us are humans or witches," Phoebe remarked, chuckling nervously.
Everyone remained silent, either glancing at her awkwardly or having their own inner turmoil.
Like me.
'Shit, shit, shit!' I thought to myself after trying and failing repeatedly to connect to my magic and heal my hands.
Magic has never been hard for me.
I was a natural. A prodigy among the hybrids of our brotherhood and even among actual witches.
That's why I was able to become the leader.
But now?
'I'll find a way to resolve this mess even if it means clawing the secret out of the old hag's brain!' I thought to myself, glaring discreetly at the old woman and preventing myself from doing something rash.
Meanwhile, Phoebe sighed after seeing the mood everyone was in. "I'm sorry. I... I don't know how to feel right now. So many people have died. M– My father..."
She sniffled, placing her right hand over her mouth and holding herself back from sobbing.
