My Second Life Is A Heroic Power Fantasy 154 Free At Las

She was free. She was finally free.

He wanted to scream and yell and dance around for joy. In the grand scheme of things, she'd not been a captive for long, but it felt like an eternity. And now that she was out, the relief of being free again was so strong she couldn't stop the flow of giggles and tears that overtook her as she tried to catch her breath and stop the world from spinning.

Within moments, Marg'faz tumbled down beside her, her chest heaving in great gasps as her tongue lolled out of her mouth. The two of them lay there for several minutes, saying nothing, until their bodies finally pulled themselves together, and they found themselves able to speak.

"Do you hear anyone coming?" Eleanor asked.

"I don't." Marg'faz said.

"Me either. Do you think they're letting us get away?" Eleanor asked, rubbing her legs.

"Doubtful. At least in the long term. As soon as my soon gets word we have escaped, he will have his men out in force to bring us back." Marg'faz said between pants.

"Do you feel able to keep running?" Eleanor asked.

"Running? No. I'm too old for that sort of thing now. But, I do suppose I could fly, with a bit of time." The gnoll woman said, scratching her ear with a pointed nail.

"Flying will draw too much attention. They'll be able to see us in the air from a long way off." Eleanor said, furrowing her brow.

"No dear, I don't mean up high. I mean close to the ground not much higher than walking height. I don't have much vigor left in these muscles of mine, but I do have plenty of magic to spare, and we could both cover much more ground if we're not fighting exhaustion." Marg'faz said.

"Makes sense to me. Do you have the components you need, or do you need to look through my pouch?" Eleanor asked.

"No need for components, dear. I'm a shaman, after all. All I need is time and s.p.a.ce to meditate and commune with the right spirit." Marg'faz said, patting Eleanor's cheek before instinctively flinching away.

"Goodness child, you're burning up!" She said, her eyes wide.

Eleanor shrugged.

"I'm a fire tiefling. It's just my natural body temperature."

She looked at the gnoll woman's hand.

"Are you okay?"
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Marg'faz gingerly rubbed her palm.

"I'm fine, dear. More surprised than anything." She said.

After a moment, she crossed her legs and leaned back against the tree trunk, before closing her eyes.

"Give me a few moments of silence to focus, and I should be ready to leave." She said.

"I'll get ready, then." Eleanor said with a nod.

She reached into her components pouch, and started digging around for the right supplies. There were many different ways to fly, but she only knew the simplest one, which was to give herself wings for a bit. More talented mages could do so by simply magically lifting themselves off the ground, rocketing about and flitting about like fairies without need of wings. It was a good trick, but required relatively expensive components to use, and a good deal more training in trans.m.u.tation than she'd bothered to study.

That was alright though. Wings would work perfectly fine.

She needed a feather that was either brown or grey, a short length of string, and some part of her, like a hair. Then there was the incantation, which she didn't remember, and the spellsigns, which she thankfully did. With a small bit of trial and error, she finally settled on what was likely the correct formula, and, with components in hand, turned her attention back to Marg'faz.

The gnoll woman spoke softly and quickly in a language Eleanor didn't recognize, her face stern and hard. As she muttered, she drew signs in the air, sometimes punctuating a specific word or phrase with a sharp jerk of one of her hands. Finally, her face slackened, and she let out a long sigh as she opened her eyes.

"That took more effort than I expected. One of the unfortunate drawbacks of being a shaman who shares the same ancestral spirits with others is that their loyalties are frequently divided between each shaman, and if their summoners are divided or opposed in a course of action, one must bribe or plead or threaten the spirits into siding with you over the others." She said.

"And you share the same spirits as your son." Eleanor guessed.

"Correct." Marg'faz said, forcing herself to her feet with effort and a faint groan.

"So what did you tell them? You seemed pretty angry." Eleanor asked.

"I told them that if they refused to side with me over my son, I would break blood ties with any of them that did once I took the throne. If I did that, I would lose access to their power forever. However, they rely on such a bond in order to not fade out of existence, so it is generally in a spirit's best interest to keep someone making such threats as happy as possible." Marg'faz said.

"How many of them sided with you?" Eleanor asked.

"Three. Out of forty-seven." Marg'faz said flatly.

Eleanor frowned.

"That's disappointing." She said. "I would have expected more."

"It'll be more than enough. I can't say I blame them wanting to be on the right side of a conflict, especially when it seems like one side has all of the advantages. But, it does mean the inside of my head will be a lot quieter in a few days time if we succeed in this plan of yours, though. I can't say I will be too upset about that." Marg'faz said with a chuckle.

She closed her eyes and took a deep, long breath, before exhaling slowly.

"Alright, dear... are you ready to go?"