“Let me out!Please!”I scream.“Sister Grayvle!Father Knoll, please!You cannot leave me here!Please.Please!”
The only sound that greets me is that of the hammer.Once it falls silent, my stomach sinks as I hear the carriage door rattle open.A few moments later, there is a crack and the clacking of hooves trotting far away from this church.
I hadn’t realized I was crying until hot moisture splashes on my chest.The scent of dust and smoke fills my lungs.As my vision blurs, I see my reality for what it is.I am trapped here.Trapped with a monster who, even if petrified, will find some way to devour me.Why did I have to be restless?Why did I have to wonder when the others did not?
My life would be so much easier if I were pious like my Sisters.Why would God give me this curious spirit if I was meant to live my life in a cage?What sins could I have committed to be dealt such a punishment?
I begin to sob in earnest, chest rattling cries that make me slink to the floor.Wrapping my arms around myself, the temperature inside begins to plummet.The sound of the rain outside is quiet in comparison to my wails.
There’s a chance I could escape, but where would I go?Another monastery wouldn’t take me in.To be abandoned by the True Faith is to be abandoned by all.That sentiment has never rang more true than it does to me now.I have nothing—I am nothing.
I should be brave like the heroes in my story.I should have faith like the princess locked inside a tower.She never lost hope that her rescuer would come save her.Am I not in a similar predicament as her?My knight could be on his way to save me right now.I cannot give in to despair.I will find a way to survive this.Besides, it’s not as if?—
The sound is soft at first, the shifting of stones against each other.I hadn’t heard it over my cries, but as my tears begin to dry, the sound intensifies.There are sharp cracks that echo down the aisle.Snaps soon follow in their wake, followed by the loud boom of stones crashing onto the wooden floor.The ground below me shakes, and my eyes widen as I take in the unholy sight before me.
The gargoyle remains unchained—mouth open, claws extended.However, its stone prison is breaking.Hard marble gives way to gray flesh covered in sparkling scales.White light streams from between the cracks.A scream crowds my throat, but I can’t make a sound.
I’m powerless to do anything but watch as the final crack sends the remaining marble crashing to the ground.Striking blue eyes sear into me, and my scream breaks free.
2
BAEZAL
It was her devastating cries that had finally awoken me.
The sound of her agony turned my stone prison into dust.The first thing I saw when at last my eyes could move was the tiny human woman huddled against the old church door.Fear made her muscles stiff.She had turned shockingly pale.
In contrast, I had never felt more alive.
There was a sensation brewing inside me.It was primal and all-consuming.Confusion was still present.As was the potent sadness that threw a cold bucket of water on me.Being cursed to remain a statue but watching the world change around you creates a distinct type of hopelessness.
I have many questions about this new world I find myself in.It has been nearly a century since I walked amongst the living.No longer the silent observer, I long to see many of the sights time had nearly stolen from my memory.
However, there were more urgent matters pressing me than a need to glimpse the sea.
How many of my kind remained?Where was the True Blessed Father who had cursed me all those years ago?My rational mind wants me to believe him dead, but with his ability to wield dark magic, I wouldn’t be surprised if the bastard had managed to cheat death.
I should be punching through this rotten ceiling and setting out to fulfill my revenge.Yet, the only moves I can seem to make are towards the tear-stained angel shaking against the door.I hadn’t even realized I’d left the dais and was now close enough to touch her.The scent of lavender and wildflowers fills my lungs.I greedily inhale more of her, grateful that all my senses have returned so that I can fully appreciate her.
My sight is perfect.I can see every inch of her naked flesh.She tries to cover herself with her hands and the tresses of her long, mahogany hair.Her beauty is undeniable.A restlessness crowds my heart, urging me to take her in my arms and shield her from every present and unseen danger.
She is far too delicate; this world is unkind and would see her loveliness marred by its cruelty.The need to protect her is strong.I’ve never felt like this towards another before.An overwhelming sense of primal need nearly sends me to my knees before her.
I had presided over her kind for decades before I was cursed.We were made as protectors, meant to serve as eternal guardians over the Sister of the One True Faith.That was until the True Blessed Father had seen our protection as a slight against him and his rise to power.We would’ve been the only force strong enough to stop him, but it was too late to act.
With one decree, he bound us into our stone prisons.Some managed to flee for a time, but in the end, it didn’t matter.Before this church was abandoned thirty years ago, word had come that no gargoyle remained amongst the living.Each one of my kind was entombed the way I had been.
That fateful day returns to me as does the True Blessed Father’s proclamation.The only way my kind had the chance of breaking from our stone prisons was if God saw fit to put our fate on our path.If we discovered our True Fate, we would be freed.
Whoever this human is, she’s important.She is the thing that saved me from eternal damnation, and I will do everything in my power to figure out why.Why has God entwined our fates in this way?Why is she here, of all places, and why is she naked?
The two figures who had left her here and stripped her—one an Elder Sister and one a Blessed Father—had reeked of cruelty.Most humans did.
The one at my feet did not.She smelled of sweetness.I hungrily inhale more of her scent, allowing it to settle into my blood.A delightful shiver runs through me.
Innocence shrouds her like a veil.All young Sisters have it—growing up in an isolated monastery tends to create a naivety.However, inside her angelic body lies a soul filled with wickedness.Not a perchance for evil, but of desire.An inferno of lust roars within, in need of being carefully stoked.
Is that my fate then?To be the one to stoke her flames of passion.Surely I cannot be that lucky.When I had roamed the land freely, I had had my share of enjoyment with mortal women.Ones paid handsomely not to mind our physical differences.My wings pull tight at the notion, and the woman whimpers.
