In an instant, Sanzafihr was upon him, sword lifted high in the air as she looked down at Tavish with murderous intent. Caught off guard by her quickness, Tavish nearly found himself frozen stupefied before a sudden rush of adrenaline spurred him forth. He jumped beneath the overgrown feline as she tore through the iced earth on which he stood mere moments before, rolling to his feet as he made a beeline for the boulder that served as a makeshift hilt for the sword he felt so desperately drawn to.
A feral growl sounded from behind him as the wind once again picked up, and he dropped to the ground on instinct - hands covering his head as he let out an undignified shriek as the weight of his mortality once again burdened him - as two quick movements in the air left the weapons that were placed into the ground just in front of him cleaved into two. Tavish rolled to his feet and, deciding that if he were to die here it best be dignified, grabbed the first two objects he could find, a wooden kite shield that he quickly placed a hand in, as well as a beaten battle axe.
Weapons in hand, he felt a certain spirit wash over him, cleansing him of most any fear that had overcome him, allowing him to focus on only what was happening at the moment. It was rather liberating. Despite never having handled or even held a weapon before, Tavish felt a certain amount of proficiency in his grip, as it was neither too tight from anxiety nor too loose from an inexperienced feeling of immortality brought on by being armed, and a fine confidence welled within him like a burning fire that glowed dimly from within his being. His senses appeared to clear as well. He could smell the ice the still air carried; he could see every movement of Sanzafihr as she bound toward him in what appeared to be slow motion; and he could feel the adrenalized smile worm its way to his face as he brandished his blade.
He’d never felt more alive.
“Leeeet’s do iiiiit!”
With that battle cry, the next few moments passed in a haze of impassioned shouts and snarls as Tavish and Sanzafihr cast all of their might into their flurry of attacks, both ready to spill the others’ blood. Of course, Tavish put all of his effort into dodging the swift swings of Sanzafihr’s sword as he danced in between the weapons serving a double purpose as gravestones to keep the tiger from overpowering him, knowing that the fragile shield he held in hand would do little to stop the sword’s edge and the large force of impact that it carried, but with his attention mostly settled upon the blade in her maw, Sanzafihr had landed a number of swipes that knocked Tavish to and fro, his breath escaping him as the ancient guardian brought down with all of her might the great sword. He had but a moment to widen his eyes before a large cracking sound was made.
In the distance, an observer would have seen a small cloud of frost rise into the air, complete with shards of frozen grass, and they would have felt the rumbling of the earth as blade connected with body; they then would have heard a piercing cry of agony following said shaking, the commotion frightening any birds that took refuge upon this lonely isle into the skies as they flew to escape the fray.
Tavish could hear nothing past the sounds of his own pained screams, Sanzafihr standing over him with a cold look in her eyes as she yanked her sword from the earth, splitting the feeble shield that he had used to protect himself and causing the red of his blood to stain the white of the icy ground.
“The pain will subside in but a moment, Seeker.” As this thought echoed through Tavish’s frenzied mind, Sanzafihr adjusted the oversized dagger held betwixt her teeth, preparing to impale him, the next words coming from her actual maw in a gesture of respect for her adversary. “Though thou mayest not have found what thou were looking for, We granteth thee the peace of a noble warrior’s death.” With that said, Sanzafihr’s sword began to emit a dull glow as the same intense winds from before drew over Tavish and around her sword, frost covering its tip. “Fare thee well.” And with that, she closed her eyes and jammed the blade into the earth where the wounded man lay.
Upon uprooting the bloodstained sword, Sanzafihr tossed away the brand, letting loose a trembling breath. She then opened up her eyes once again to find that Tavish had simply disappeared, just like the rest who fell to her. Only, this time something was… off.
There was a wrathful shout and a surprised yelp in her clarity, Sanzafihr casting an astonished stare onto none other than the Demoman, then to the axe firmly planted into her side. When she looked back to Tavish, she had seen that there blazed a sinister red radiance from both his good eye and beneath his eyepatch. In an instant, a haze befell her, and with her addled state of mind and body, a memory.
“I-impossible…” she said, staring deeply into that primeval glow the entire time, recognition dancing across her dimming eyes. “My King… King Hildegard… is that truly you…?” And with that, the great Guardian of the Isles fell. With a final exhalation that seemed to be a mix of both abject terror and relief, the light in Sanzafihr’s eyes died. Upon closing her eyes for the final time, Sanzafihr bowed in the direction of the sword stuck within the boulder as the air around her went wild, the winds picking up in speed and intensity as the clouds of the sky darkened, eliminating any impression of the sun’s golden rays that once rested above as Sanzafihr’s form began to flicker, eventually dissipating into nothingness and being carried away by the softening breeze. It seemed as though the world had lost something it held in great care.
Tavish’s eyes had long since stopped glowing their sinister sanguine, the man simply staring as he witnessed what appeared to be the guardian’s death. He didn’t know why, but a part of him felt a great sense of loss. It was with this overbearing feeling of sadness and disgust that he began to weep for someone that he knew so little yet so well.