I was not happy. Oh no.

Before, I’d been busy consuming the dead, pulling the vibrant flames of unruly and colorful Mana out of the fallen elves to try and summon a new guardian. With the last three on land where Lazarus’ speed became a true handicap, and Ramses surrounded, just one more defender could make all the difference.

Then the sword emerged, and began to rip my Mana away from me. Rather than being contained within my core, the Mana absorbed from the world around me became a kind of ethereal cloud, which allowed me to sense the world around me. Now that floating storm of Mana in the air was being eaten, my control ripped away from me as it spiraled in a violent whirlpool around the sword.

I could barely even see the man within anymore. He was a blank spot in my vision.

Him and his companions had Ramses surrounded, the other two employing long spears with tips of bone to prod and poke. He had to break free but charging would give them an easy strike into his flesh, using his own weight and momentum to land a deadly blow.

The only option remaining was towards the sword, and that seemed critically unwise.

Ramses let out a grunting huff, and charged. In the blurred space where my vision failed, I could just barely see the sun flash against the blade as it lifted up-

It blazed like a sun itself as it came sweeping down. A crescent wave of magic swept forward, given shape by the arc of the blade’s tip through empty air. It flew towards Ramses’ as the holy beast opened his mouth and roared again, the sound making the air shiver and shake.

A crystalline ring of steel meeting steel as the two forces collided, and the onrushing wave of energy from the blade broke apart into shards of vibrant fire. That didn’t mean the attack was wiped out- only blunted. As Ramses charged in, the fragments rained against his back, exploding into blue-black flames that covered his body.

He met the elf headfirst, and with a huge push of his front legs, reared up into the air to toss him skyward. The roar that followed wasn’t magical or infused with power. It was simply, clean triumph.

Ramses hurled himself into my water to quench the burning flames, and the elf tumbled through the air to land with a brutal crack against the earth. I heard his bones breaking. I heard him cry out.

So did his followers.

They waved for a moment, before Ramses head broke above the oasis and let out another cry, his huge shape splitting the water into a frothing trail to either side of him. They broke then. They turned and ran, and even then, I wasn’t finished. Lazarus had slid up through a hidden tunnel, from the depths of the oasis up through one of the rocky pools and around the fight. His claw shot forward and one of the elves tumbled to the ground, the sinew of their leg tearing a bloody streak up their calf as it snapped.

Lazarus crawled over him, pinning him down. The last of them still standing was running like a madmen, the bones of his victims clacking where they hung around his neck. The lobster’s brutal claw closed around the fallen elf’s head.

“NO!”

The old-man-made-young had lifted himself from the ground with one arm beneath him, and swung the sword desperately with the other. It sung as it cut the air, happy to be alive, happy to take lives. That sweeping crescent of blue-black flame erupted forward.

He’d misjudged his own strength. It cleaved the elf in Lazarus’ hands clean in two, and ripped the lobster’s claw away in a spray of white meat and broken black armor. The stub was burning. My Lazarus screamed and retreated as the elf stared in horror at the boy he’d killed.

Ramses lifted himself from the pool and crashed forward to finish the job. The man was healing fast, the artifact lending him the strength to weave broken bone and flesh together again, but he still couldn’t stand on his own. The end was near.

His eyes stared out across the water, to the faceless statue I had made.

His lips drew back in a feral scream and he grasped the blade with bone hands to thrust forward. Not aiming at Ramses at all. A spear of blue-black flame shot over the oasis, its reflection blazing on the water’s face.

It was a pointless gesture really. The statue was nothing but a symbol I could replace.

Just the last little jab of spite from an evil man.

Laughable.

But men put more faith in symbols than I do, I suppose.

The vagabond threw himself between the blow and the statue, screaming something I couldn’t hear. The spear of blue-black flame met his fragile body and tore him into a thousand pieces. For a moment he was a shadow caught in the absolute light of the flame - and then that shadow was ripped apart and thrown away in charred shreds.

I could only stare in horror.

I could only wonder why he’d do that, as he crashed down into the lake, horribly burnt, already beyond my power to heal. The water closed over him and drowned the flame that scorched his bones.

Ramses stomped his killer to death in a single blow.

That evil sword tumbled free of limp fingers.

And I felt- nothing.

An endless numbness and a repeating echo of a question. Couldn’t I just go back a few seconds? Couldn’t I undo this? Wasn’t I supposed to save the world?

A corpse lay in the depths of my sanctuary. A man I’d tried to save, twice.

I-

Damn.