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If Phoebe was to die tonight she was at peace, so be it, how else ?
She landed beside Bran in a rush of breath .
"Protego ! "
Her voice was strained, she shouted all the incantations desperately, but it wasn't enough. Milo was ruthless, his face still covered by that godforsaken mask the aethernum gave him when they took his memories his heart and his soul.
Vivienne was wailing and the sky followed, she felt powerless yet every blast of wind was hers to shape.
"Don't attack him. Please, please, i'm begging you, GO ! " Her voice cracked like thunder "He's gonna kill all of you..."
Bran's jaw was set tight , "We are not leaving you here Vivi, i swear it."
A torrent of flames surged forth, Phoebe dove behind a tree. She let out a
chocked scream as the heat hit her like a wall. "Ferula" breathed Circe, panicked prayers woven into the spell. Soon enough a cool sensation slipped beneath Phoebe's skin, fading the wounds away.
She forced herself up, trudging through the chaos, heart pounding like a war drum. She could hear the bursts of water Vaeleen sent, meant to smother the flames. The air was heavy with the scent of burning pine and damp earth.
She had to reach Bran before it was too late. Vivienne's pained sobs guided her to the heart of the battle, Milo mouvements were sharp and calculated. Each spell he sent was precise ; optimized for maximum effect with minimum effort. Every single step was deliberate, every gesture sharp whereas Bran was trying to blow up the man surroundings. He could not seriously injure Milo, not only did he doubt his ability to do so but Vivienne also forbidden him to. Milo was her brother, he did not remember, did not recognize her as anything more than Aelyn, reincarnation of the wind keeper, but he was still the boy she grew up with. The same boy with the same blond hair.
Explosions bloomed in Milo's path, deafening bursts and flames that split trees at their base. There wasn't much elegance about Bran's casting, it was chaos and volume, magic to crack the ground and set the sky on fire. But never quite touch Milo because he couldn't, not now.
"Confrigo !" Bran growled under his breath and shifted, he was getting tired Phoebe could see. Milo calm as ever carved his way through the trees, the spell he sent wasnt shouted. Phoebe pushed forwards through the steam, the burnt leaves cracking under her boots. She needed healing, she tried to spot Circe from behind the smoke but a spell flash made her turn around, "Bran, BRAN"
The young man was levitating, agonizing. Every single one of his muscle was drawn tight as wire, jolts of electricity were emanating from inside him, sparks burning trays of blood from his skin, the current paralyzing him. Phoebe ran towards him desperately with no time to properly think, to move, nor to notice that milo sent her the very same spell.