Knights of the Grey City

Chapter 24 - RETREAT

The warm, sunny atmosphere of the Sanctuary closed in on us. Huang jumped as if someone had slapped him and looked around.

"Where are we? What's going on?" he asked, his expression immediately sharp. I sighed in relief.

"Oh, man. Uh... we were fighting at the waterfront. You seemed to be doing fine, and I lost track of what was happening," I said. "When I came out of it and tracked you down, it seemed like... you had lost a wing?"

He grimaced. "Right... It was stupid. I was doing fine. But I was overwhelmed and there was this new demon type I'd never seen before. It got past my guard."

"I mean, what happens now? Can the Gargoyle heal from that?" I asked.

He was rubbing his left shoulder. "I don't know... It has to. It better."

"Well, until we got here, you were completely out of it. In shock, or something," I said. I also reported to him what I'd witnessed with the wing turning into dust and making its way here, news he received with evident excitement.

"Interesting! I think... that means I should be able to regenerate that wing, right? If it turned into dust and came back this way. The raw material is here somewhere."

"Maybe," I hedged. "Wouldn't that mean it works the other way, as well? That demons would be able to regenerate with the remains that go back to their nest or whatever?"

"We don't even know if they have a nest," Huang said, starting to move deeper into the Sanctuary. "Okay, I'm going to try and transform in here and see what happens."

"Shouldn't you give it time to heal?" I demanded, hurrying after him. "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't jump at the chance to hang out in a body with a newly severed limb!"

"I can handle it," he assured me. "Maybe there's a way to reattach the wing, and we'd have to do it now. How would you know?"

All I did know was that, while being injured as our other forms didn't reflect on our human bodies, it still hurt. And apparently, the shock of losing a wing had turned Huang non-responsive the first time.

"Remember when we agreed to stop each other from doing stupid, self-destructive things?" I said. We emerged into the atrium.

Huang pinned me with a look. "Camilo. If I can't fly, we're completely screwed. I have to try."

"I mean...?" I gestured helplessly, unable to come up with a counter-argument, then sighed. "I... I guess so."

"I have a feeling this might work. I've never transformed in here before, so I'm going to try it," he said. "This isn't self-destructive, it's necessary."

"Fine," I said shortly, preparing myself to deal with the consequences.

He nodded, then took a few steps back toward the middle of the atrium. His form expanded in a flash of light and morphed instantly into the graceful shape of the Gargoyle.

Or it would have been a graceful shape, if one of his wings hadn't been brutally hacked off: not even at a joint, but right across the 'forearm'. The area was saturated with glowing yellow blood.

We waited, standing across from each other, but nothing happened. The Gargoyle looked like it was trembling from pain or blood loss, its tail curled tightly around it. Huang made no attempt to speak to me.

"I don't think it's going to work," I said. "Just turn back."

He didn't respond. The Gargoyle turned its face up toward the stained-glass roof, watching as a shadow passed overhead.