One moment three things

Background you need: Isaac is the sheriff of a small town

Isaac climbed into bed in the wee hours of the morning after a false alarm. He’d been called across town as he was falling asleep earlier, but no, nothing interesting happened, it was a cat that scratched at someone’s window too loud and scared someone.
	He lay down and closed his eyes.
	A shout.
	Isaac grumbled and swore, grabbed his sword and slipped his boots on, this probably wasn’t enough to warrant his uniform. He walked into the front room and saw through the large window front, (the sheriff’s office was previously a shop,) that this was big enough to warrant a uniform.
	He burst through the door.
	In front of him were two men, one with a gun, one of the sort he was saving up for and had seen on his vacations in bigger cities. The man stood so his side faced the other and held the trembling revolver far in front of him.
	The other was chanting with his hands out and his face twirled in the darkness to look yet more sinister than it was. The chanting man’s hair swirled around his face as though he were underwater and as Isaac watched, his eyes glazed over and turned the color of the night sky. Black and purple magicks began to twirl around his arms and climb past his elbows and his shoulders. It stopped past his arms and melded with his skin.
	Isaac strafed forward with his sword out and spoke, “Break it up, men, no need to fight, placed down the weapon and stop chanting or I’ll have to detain both of you.
	Three things happened in a moment.
	The revolver fired but missed its target.
	The muzzle flare and the noise frightened the chanting mage and he released his incomplete spell which, WHOOSH, blossomed up into the sky with explosive purple light that resonated across the town.
	The man with the revolver, the mage, and Isaac, flew backwards and died.
	Isaac’s corpse, even while he hung in the air, darted back and crashed into his window.
	The man with the revolver, still recoiling from the gunshot, dropped the weapon, tumbled back, and cracked his skull on the cobbled streets.
	The mage would have been a horrendous sight even before he flew into the air. His hair was fried off and so were parts of his skin, but he wasn’t bleeding, they’d already cauterized from the heat, and his chest and head exploded as he tumbled back and fell on his stomach.