Ereshk tilted his head curiously as Greyson began to rapidly recover from his injuries. Was this magic? Yes, it had to be some sort of healing spell, but from where? Ereshk followed Greyson's gaze, and sure enough there was a brief glow from a rooftop a few streets over. A long-distance healing spell? Was that even possible? Though he would never admit it, Ereshk's knowledge of the more passive forms of magic was decidedly lacking. The Master only ever gave lectures on the destructive aspects of magic. Fireballs, slicing shadows, purging light, those were the spells Ereshk had been taught how to deal with. Knitting flesh was utterly foreign. 

"Lead on then," the dark mage piped in with a smile, turning back to face Greyson Onyx. "I'll help out for as long as I can." Ereshk was very deliberately keeping his gaze focused on Greyson. Somewhere deep inside he knew what he had done with his spells, but for the moment his carnage was out of sight and out of mind. The mage intended to keep it that way for as long as possible tonight; he'd just be a burden if he fainted again.