Aeotha screamed as she fell away from Gershul, her staff abandoned and her hands covered the gaping wound as she screamed. There was no pain like this pain, there were worse wounds, of course, but she hadn't felt them herself. Not personally. She couldn't focus on anything but the pain. Her eyes shut tight, the heat of the fire seemed to make this so much worse. Pain riddled her as blood poured through her fingers. There were footsteps and noises, the crackling fire, but Aeotha could only feel that pain. The warmth of the blood pouring out did not distract her as much as the closer footsteps. She could not move, she felt paralyzed under the weight of the wound. But someone was moving, taking hold of her hand. Aeotha opened her eyes for a moment and saw the other Priestess. Her lip were moving.
Aeotha was breathing hard. She couldn't stop herself. All the smoke was choking her. But she felt through the haze of pain, and heat, the weight of the other Priestess beside her. Everything was going black now, and getting cold. Her hands were pushed away, and another set replaced them. But Aeotha wasn't clear and aware any longer. The Elves were coming. Some of them were already working on clearing away the fire. Mages from the army were casting water magic, other elves were clearing away the wounded, or stabbing into the bodies of the immortals which did litter the ground.
She jolted back to reality and into the priestess, they were trying to move her.
"Skandra." She whispered, thickly. Blood pouring from her mouth now. The wound seemed to still be there. Alchemy likely. She didn't know. Didn't care.
"Where's Skandra?" She asked again, trying to move. But the pain kept her from moving too much.