As I healed her, the outline transformed into a blade of sheer darkness, and its edge was slick with slime-magic that hissed as it landed on the ground. No sound came from it not even a warning whisper, It just struck.
At the point of death I shoved up a phoenix shield, wings of light gold enfolding me and the girl. Every attack crashed into the barrier like thunder. Sparks erupted. My head rebounded. I applied my hands to her wounds, muttering spells, but her chest remained motionless. Blood coated my palms, the floor, even the radiance of the barrier. She was dead.
Something within me broke. Why could I not save at least one small girl? Was I that useless? Fear dissipated and left behind a hot, hollow something.
The barrier shook, hairline cracks spreading across gold. I clenched my teeth. "Mana Coating." Energy flared through my limbs, burning bright. The final hit broke the shield, I dispelled it deliberately.
For an instant the creature's blade rose. That was the weak point.
I charged forward and punched my right fist into its chest. The corridor blazed. The beast stumbled, its mana trembled like stressed glass.
I didn't let up. Gliding left, I gathered all my strength. "Explosion Magic!" Fire tore the floor apart, a shockwave that shredded the walls and my own bones.
When the smoke had cleared…I swallowed bile. The thing remained. Unmarked. Its slime-blade curled in a bored manner. It had all eternity.
My legs numbed up. One moment I was walking; the next, my knees were dead wood. White, searing pain coursed through my limbs. It wasn't random, a trap. Dark magic, the kind that creeps beneath the senses and devours you from the inside out. I fell. The healing left my hands.
Memories strike like a reel of film: the duck by the river, my mother's laughter, the girl I once loved's face. Life reduced to a dot until metal entered my mouth. And then the voice: not hiss, not growl, but thunder and choir all mixed up, lovely and repulsive.
"I'll send you back in time," it said, silk-cold words. "Take the girl with you, or you will be doomed like that for all eternity."
The choice hung in the slick red air: take her and attempt to alter it, or deny it and be reduced to the same tableau eternally.
"What do you mean, take her back?" I rasped.
The silhouette didn't say. Its slime-mana oozed in slow droplets. "Will you decide, Charlie? Or will you learn to watch and lose forever?"
I saw the girl's small hand in mine, the duck standing by the river, my mother's anxious face. The fear I'd known was no more. Something else came up, a dumb, angry kind of love that desired one thing: to protect this little life.
I wrapped my good arm around her shoulders and pulled her to me. Her skin was cold; her breath a specter. "Take me," I said not in a heroic voice rather a desperate one. "Take me back. Take her. Don't let her die."
The thing hummed. Torches dimmed. The slime on its blade pooled and swallowed light. The world folded, the guild, my hut, the riverbank, my mother's kitchen, all thinning to a white pinprick.
I closed my eyes. If it was a trick, at least I'd be the one holding her hand.
"Ting."
I came back to where I had been, bell still clanging in the street. I was filled with terror. My breath grew very fast. "AHHHHH!" I howled, raw as an animal. I knelt and beat the dirt until my head began bleeding. People in front of me witnessed the whole scene but not a single individual had the courage to even move closer towards me.
The little girl hobbled towards me. Her hands brushed against my arm, anxious. I scooped her up and fled, without thought, just action. "Wah! Wah!" She exclaimed in an attempt to comprehend the circumstances. I was able to make it to my home at last. I bashed my hut door and pulled it shut. For one beat I anticipated the customary chill of silence. But rather the faces crowded the room: townspeople, the guild receptionist, and at the rear a figure in a cedar scented robe who appeared to be someone who made lists for a living.
Silence bearing down on me so hard I could feel my blood. The girl had a grip on my sleeve. The man took a step forward, his rings soft-spoken. "Charlie," he said, and the word tasted of blame. "We have to discuss what you've done."
My throat went dry. Instinct told me to lie, to laugh, to stall. I gripped the girl hard instead until she winced. "Speak," I told her, flat. If they were going to take me, they'd take her with me first.