(Amaia)
She asks with such gentle expectation that I can't say no.
"Who doesn't love a good diary?" My answer makes her smile widen.
"See, a girl with a taste." She winks, making me smile. Unaware and oblivious to the truth I conceal in my heart, that makes me bleed, behind this fake smile.
"Also I have a Phoenix quill for the boys. It came from a real phoenix." She shows us a long reddish-orange quill and waves it in her hand.
We all know phoenixes don't exist. They are mythical birds. So boys just snicker.
We get to work, focusing on creating the potion. Cristo is lazy but intelligent, and he seems to have worked with solutions before.
On the other hand, this is all new to me. I usually handle situations with a sword, this chemical warfare is new to me.
Since mankind exhausted most of its chemical weapons, bombs and ammunition during the apocalypse. It was the supernatural forces that finally won them the war against the mutilated creatures.
