Aeotha didn't see Elemmire when she first appeared there in the square, too intent on destroying the threat of Drow first. Too intent to obliterate the last of them. They were her enemies, save a choice few. And those that were not were either long gone or had since changed their tune. Those past thoughts were just that. Past. Aeotha would gladly murder any Drow that dared to show it's face in Astarii. She remembered a great many war with them, and they were ready to kill Fiaethe now. Aeotha was suppose to take care of Fiaethe, but at the moment Fiaethe was doing as much of the work as she was. Doubling her magic, in her own way. Aeotha was glad for it. But then the earth began to shake, the stone beneath them shifted and ripped and Aeotha was tossed first from the height, Fiaethe following soon after.
One moment it seemed like a battle, the next it seemed like devastation. Though many wounded were gone, and many more Priestesses with them, there were still Elves and Drow strewn across the ground. She saw them laying there before the ground broke her fall. A finger on her hand snapped underneath her, and her head collided hard against the ground. Then everything was black. The pain was gone. But there was nothing in the black. Another arc of magic rose over them all, bright blue as it whistled through the air. That sound drew her out of the blackness, and then the pain returned. Instinctively Aeotha pulled the hand into a fist and let out a cry of pain. The finger had to have been broken in several places. Cuts, scrapes and more injuries dotted her form.
The worst of which was the gouge in her forehead. Blood rushed down her face and into her eyes as she moved her head to look. She blinked at the blood and cleared it from her face with her other hand. The world appeared to be spinning, but Aeotha could make them out amongst the bodies. Fiaethe. Skandra. And Elemmire. Elemmire was standing and saying something. It took a moment for the words to make it through her head. Finally when the pieces were there and put together Aeotha gritted her teeth and began to push herself from the ground, intent on moving to protect Fiaethe, and perhaps Skandra as well. Even if he was immune to magic. Even if this was his fault there was no other thought in her head. Protect her friends. Do her job. If she had to kill Elemmire in order to do that, then she would.
"You told me once..." Aeotha said as she finally pushed herself up with the broken hand, the other using the staff as leverage.
"That if that evil took hold of you, that I should kill you. I told you no, I told you we'd find a way to save you. And we did, he did." Aeotha motioned toward Skandra.
"You had no choice before, but now you have every choice in the world and you choose this? This, Elemmire? After everything you told me? You're making a mistake. You'll have to go through me, but I will not hold back. You move against me and I will do everything in my power to stop you."
Aeotha saw Elemmire as a threat to everything here. Not only Fiaethe. What would stop her from killing all of them? Destroying the wall? Allowing the battle to spill into the city only to lay waste to everyone who crossed her path? It wasn't that Aeotha wanted to see such things, but Aeotha was realistic. She wanted to see the best in everyone, but what choice had they given her? Skandra lying every three seconds. Elemmire hiding things from her for too many years. Sometimes you just had to kill a friend. Sometimes you had to do something that would hurt you for the rest of your life because there was no other choice. Stand down and allow Elemmire to kill Fiaethe? Fiaethe dead and there was no trial, no information, no proof. Fiaethe dead and Iluvatar would never forgive her. And then what? Lay down her staff so that Elemmire could kill her? So the drow could? So everything Aeotha had ever worked for would be undone?
She couldn't do that. She could not allow Elemmire to do this.