Emma sighed, both in relief and out of weariness, when Amelia slumped to the ground in front of her.
Finally. She mused.
Inhaling deeply for strength, she squatted, and touched her sister's forehead with her right palm. The latter's temperature was warm; just the right amount. She also perused the latter's mind repeatedly, to see if there was any other sliver in her mind, or in any part of her body. She let herself fall to the ground when she saw nothing of that sort in her mind. Amelia was finally free from the hold of the mage.
Emma, her eyes scanning the skies above, let out a large gush of air from her mouth. Then, she took a deep one, rubbing her belly slowly. She was hungry. Very hungry. She was tired too. She needed to rest, and she would have if she didn't hear Prescott's sudden gasp of terror.
