Archive of Our Own

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S e c r e t  • G a r d e n

 

"Do you need any help with that, Ishimaru-san?"

"Ah... Yes, thank you."

The last bell signalling all the students to leave the premises had finally rung. The other member of the Health Committee helped Ishimaru Fushimi with doing inventory of medical supplies, finishing the work faster. How long has it been since she had experienced this kind of peace? The stress of school, family, and even social groups buried her to the ground at one point, but she was slowly crawling back up to the surface. Ishimaru smiled at the student as they bid her goodbye before leaving. Ishimaru closed the door behind her and exited the main building. She had always been the last to leave the clinic, where usual meetings take place, but she didn't mind.

She had a special place to go to every after class hours, anyway. The school courtyard was quiet. As a matter of fact, it was too quiet. The flowers on the bushes lost their colors with the overpowering rays of the sunset, giving them a hot yet bright orange color. The fountain in the middle was always the perfect place to sit by, probably due to the cold yet comforting waters that filled it.

Everyday, Ishimaru came here to talk to someone. It was odd, but she never felt alone when she came to the courtyard. There was a presence that comforted her, assuming that the wind was a way the presence answered her every time she asked a question.

"Good afternoon," Ishimaru greeted, bowing to no one in particular.

The wind answered cheerfully. She smiled. She opened her hand, where a small trinket embedded with magnificent jewels sat gleaming under the rays of setting sun. She found this object at the courtyard some time earlier this school year, and she never let go of it. Something about it made her come back to the same place everyday just to be with... the presence at the school courtyard.

"I came here just to ask how you were doing," Ishimaru said to no one else as she sat by the fountain. "Hey, were you the one who gave this to me? It looks beautiful..."

Ishimaru raised the trinket just beneath the setting sun. She closed one eye to get a good look at it, leaning backwards to get a better look. Her long hair began to touch the surface of the fountain waters. She smiled.

"Thank you, stranger," Ishimaru whispered.

The presence she was talking to seemed quite stronger today. She knows she doesn't have supernatural powers or anything of the sort, but she believed that someone was there.

Suddenly, a strong wind coursed through the courtyard. Ishimaru, blatantly surprised, yelped as she tried to regain her balance. Unfortunately, she fell head-first in the fountain, with the trinket sinking to the bottom. Ishimaru immediately rose to the surface, now wet from head to toe, breathing heavily. She felt embarrassed, the presence lingering still. She stepped out of the fountain, attempting to dry herself.

What caught her was the mesmerizing light that engulfed the fountain. She was surprised. This has never happened before. She took a step back. She never wanted to run away, but she couldn't take her eyes off of the fountain. The gold shimmers that followed its glow were amazing! It was akin to that of the fireflies during the summer; it was beautiful.

"Ah, my trinket...!" Ishimaru exclaimed.

Before she could run back to the fountain, a blinding light covered the entire courtyard. Ishimaru covered her eyes with her forearms, but that failed as she could still see a sliver of light push through her eyelids. When the light faded, she slowly removed her arms from her face. She suddenly felt afraid. She felt eyes on her now. Real eyes. Her knees wanted to give away, but then it would be too much for her. She wanted to run away, but her curiosity was at its peak. She raised her head to look at the aftermath. Her eyes widened.

"Y-You..."

History has power for they are the collective memories of men and women who forged nations and toppled others. Only the victor could pen history, it was said, so that tales of valor and sacrifice do not go unnoticed when everything else slips through time like grain of sand.

Gilgamesh valued personal histories the most, and not just his own. In his younger days he'd been vain and tempestuous; he chased short-term distractions and relished the grief that made him afraid of his own shadow. 

It was only by giving up lofty ideals of immortality that he became stronger in mind and spirit; the truest measure of any fabled hero. When he'd been crowned king, he also took up the task to learn more about the magic and mysteries which are imbued in this world and beyond. The craft was grueling, much more so than the hunt and wars he had waged as prince.

It had been worth the practice, for he no longer sees himself as mere warrior, susceptible to the will of gods who never truly understood he still has aspirations that went further than just representing their divine kin.

He was made human in other ways, and as long as that blood flows in his veins, Gilgamesh knows he could be anything but perfect--a finished product, a dead-end to evolution. 

For that is the goal of living; the journey, always the journey, rather than just reaching a destination. He resented such stagnancy. 

And so he declared himself mage more than just monarch. Instead of ruling and abdication, he sought the higher learning and with that came long decades of exile. Uruk still flourished, the priestesses and his many daughters saw to that, which gave Gilgamesh more ample time to study the craft.

This is why it did not surprise him when he found himself traveling in a different plane of reality. Now blessed with the knowledge from a vessel glinting on the surface of some depth he could not perceive yet, Gilgamesh appraises the new land whilst floating above water.

He recognizes this was an era that succeeded his own. The air tasted so different; he could tell that he would have to adapt his craft to the physics of this world. But that's not what catches his attention at the moment.

Slightly turning his head to the girl near him, Gilgamesh's serpentine gaze studies her with light interest. The golden bracelets in his wrists tinkle as he spreads his arms wide, saying, "Well?"

The language he speaks should be of this era's common tongue. Surely the girl can comprehend.

Again, the vessel that brought him here whispers at the back of his mind, acting as guide, almost to facilitate this interaction.

"Oh, really?" He quirks an eyebrow as his eyes inspect the girl once more. "Is she now?"

Stepping forward, he addresses the youth and says, "I believe I was granted passage so that you will be my master."

An amusing turn of events, he thinks, as a grin breaks out. This awfully drenched waif is supposed to command him? Outlandish!

Gilgamesh chuckles.

Ishimaru could not believe what was happening right now. Her school uniform was dripping wet, the sun had already set, and she finds herself face-to-face with a stranger she'd never met in her entire life. He was wearing an otherworldly clothing, and he spoke as if he were of royal descent. However, before she could ask the stranger who he was, she was worried about where the trinket had gone. She began tilting her head, trying to see if she could get past the man and look for her personal treasure.

"W-Wait, um," Ishimaru said, avoiding the man's uncomfortable gaze. "I'm... I'm sorry?"

She wanted the man to repeat what he said just now. His accent was so slender, similar to how elegantly berries roll over the tongue, and it made her difficult to catch what he meant with what he told her. She crossed her arms and placed her hands to her sides, gripping tightly, as if to sway the cold breeze that was beginning to arrive.

"Where did you... come from?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. "Also, where is... where is it? Did you... Do you have it with you? The thing... The thing with gems... I need to have it."

She was stuttering uncontrollably due to how cold it has gotten. Also, maybe the fact that someone besides her was in the courtyard made her feel a tad bit nervous. She was the only one who came here everyday after school. Could it mean that this man had been here the entire time? Was he a staff of the school? Was he listening to everything she was saying to herself ever since? Her face flushed at the thought, slowly lowering her head. She felt genuinely embarrassed.

The amusement has never ebbed away completely though traces of mild irritation has spread on those patrician features as well. What it created was a fine balance of prudence and impulse, which meant his next reaction could swing either way; a pendulum that sways and sways before it inevitably settles for one over the other.

"You seem rather preoccupied," he remarks as he follows after her inquiring stare. Her apprehension hints that she had not meant to summon him at all, even though it was obvious she was the cause. But what power exactly? If she's hardly aware then she couldn't possibly be deemed fit to become his 'master'. 

Her posture, too, was unimpressive. He has no time to waste on trifling matters like someone's agitation and ignorance. The girl didn't hail from any notable family of magecraft, that much is made all the more certain the more he observed her behavior. Still, Gilgamesh was not unkind. Frugal he may be when it came to generosity and sentimentalities, but he can demonstrate a level of respect when it suits the situation, although he doubted the girl has earned that distinction.

The vessel urges him caution and patience now. It whispers that this bumbling mess of a female has potentials. Now where has he heard that before? Typical nonsensical bullshit from omniscient forces-that-be. This is why he isn't truly comfortable subscribing to deities in general, even if he was sired by one long ago.

"A trinket," he repeats what was on her mind (a faint psychic link exists between them, but he guards his own mind readily), measuring that term of phrase upon his tongue like a new wine. His eyes don't leave her person, but he's attuning now to the surroundings. He senses people from afar, a civilization with immense populace. The vessel fills the gaps of knowledge so that any question he may have before being uttered is already given the correct response. 

"Do you mean..." and the caster-king opens his left hand, "...this."

The golden magnificence shimmers as each stone encrusted in it form tiny rainbows. It lays serenely on his palm. Before she could even think about snatching it, Gilgamesh places it atop his head, among the other baubles, where it fits perfectly as a crest. In fact, that may have been a missing piece all along. 

"Let's not dally," he steps out of the fountain. Immediately his visage melts into a garb more suited for this era; a dark blue shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows paired to a snug gray khaki pants with black leather boots. He looks down on himself and grimaces; it was only when he runs a hand over his clavicle and a golden chain with a large ruby at the center appears that he exhales as if to say, 'yes, that will do'.

Meanwhile, her 'trinket' has gone again. He will not reveal where he's concealed it.

"Take me to your abode."

Her eyes shone when she caught sight of the trinket. Yes, that was it. Before she could even speak of it, the stranger hid it someplace that she could not fathom the purpose of. She gave off a look of confusion, but it immediately faded when he stepped out of the fountain and transformed before her eyes. He looked a lot more normal with the outfit he wore. When he spoke of taking him to her home, she was surprised. Her anxiety peaked, making her legs a little wobbly. She slowly nodded, turning to walk away.

"Um, yes," she said, as if to herself. "I was about to go home, anyway."

With that, she began to walk away. As soon as they got out of the school premises, the sky had already dark. Streetlights were the only things that illuminated the area. Having to walk underneath one somewhat gave her warmth, and it calmed her a little. On the walk back home, she didn't look back at the stranger she just met. She was fearful of what she could do. Seeing that he popped out of the fountain and changed into clothes without having to strip in front of her, she was sure that she encountered some sort of magician. If not, maybe a cursed being that came to kill her. 

She sighed as she finally held the doorknob of her house, quickly turning it. Like usual, it was quiet. Ishimaru lived alone, and the only noises that can be heard whenever she was home was either the ding! of the microwave or the news on TV. Her life wasn't extravagant, but it wasn't humble either. She finally looked at the stranger, seeing him beginning to turn his head and look around. 

This is it, she thought. This is the consequences of overworking yourself, Ishimaru; you invite a stranger over to ease that loneliness you feel.

But then, she realized that she hasn't introduced herself. Knowing that this could be the last time she'll live, she forced a smile at the stranger and bowed.

"I'm Ishimaru," she said. "Ishimaru Fushimi. I'm a second year junior high school student. Please, make yourself at home. I have several questions, but, um, would you like to eat dinner first?"

My last meal, she thought, grimacing. This isn't how I expected to die.

He listened to her bewildering thought process as they stroll together on the road; it wasn't as if he meant to, but it seems as though her mind was hardly quiet. That is ironic, since she didn't seem to possess that much depth of thought either. 

Perhaps Gilgamesh should bring this up, because he'd rather not explore her mind when it proves a futile attempt to unearth anything interesting. Boundaries are crucial especially if he is to fulfill this contract.

...which remains to be seen. Nothing about this is enticing, not the girl or the world she lived in.

The caster-king really should have saved that for when he arrived to her dwelling place. What ludicrous architecture! The steel and concrete were a marvel themselves as composite materials, but the house of this era lacked integrity, even a personality. Each room seems functional--he could tell that when he glanced at the cookware area briefly--but the enclosure bothers him.

Air doesn't circulate as freely, nor does sunlight. What are those other things anyway? 'Windows'? But why the glass pane? 

"Sturdy but fragile," was his first judgment as he finishes appraising the house. "Much like the child who lives here."

That was all he says as the caster-king plops himself to a nearby soft cushion. He runs his palms on the gaudy material it was dressed in and decides right then that he would have to drape this awful place with more silk and fur.

For his own peace of mind.

The pendulum swings and swings at the moment since he has yet to fully decipher what purpose can be served for himself, the wretched girl and this contract the vessel keeps reminding him.

"I will not put foreign food in my mouth I didn't personally seen cooked," he answers with an almost dismissive tone. His serpentine eyes dart towards a window. "Will you open that? And take that flimsy cloth off it too. The color is rather faded. Do you not like colors?"

He turns to the girl. "You certainly seem to fancy jewelry, however. Here..."

And he removes one of his bracelets. It was golden like his hair but as light as feather. Handing it to her, he adds,  "...do not trade it to pay your expenses. It is my gift to you. Clearly charity doesn't come from your neighbors, for I cannot fathom how the elders allow you live in such deprived conditions, childling."

Gilgamesh has heard her introduce herself earlier, yes, but he is content to call her that for now.

"And don't entertain death so easily," he warns her, "I can hear the noisy tinkering of your immature thoughts. If I killed you, that meant you're relevant somehow. You are yet to prove you are."

Stretching his arms, he grabs the pillows from either side and pulls them close to support his hips.

"Now," he says, "Sit wherever you please. And tell me how you came to find one of my crafted jewels. It's an heirloom given to one of my heirs, I believe, but that was for much later...in the advent of my death."

Ishimaru heard the stranger's comment about her home. She honestly didn't know what to make of his comment. She realized that she hadn't changed her clothes just yet, and so she decided to just do what the stranger says for now and walked over to the windows to open it. She pushed the curtains to the side in the process. He was kind of right, since she felt the breeze from outside immediately enter her home.

She grabbed a bath towel from one of the cabinets near the kitchen and wrapped herself  in it. Ishimaru frowned when he said that he didn't like eating food without seeing it cooked. Hearing him a bit more clearly now, she can understand where he's coming from. Maybe she wasn't imagining things and this man right before her is someone that the gods have sent to her for her sins. It was a ridiculous thought, since she wasn't the religious kind.

Eventually, the stranger handed her his bracelet. Her eyes shone because of how beautiful it looked, but it was nothing compared to the trinket she had. That trinket was something that meant a lot to her, and this stranger hid it from her. He said something about the trinket being an heirloom. She sat a few inches away from him as she admired the bracelet in her hands.

"That trinket... I only got it at school," Ishimaru explained. "I don't know where it was from nor do I know who owns it. I'm sorry."

She turned to look at him and bowed her head in apology. She met his eyes for a moment and froze. She was a little afraid of what he was capable of doing, but his reminder that she was not going to be killed unless she was of importance made her wonder. Did he really mean what he said?

"Listen, sir, I don't know what's going on," she continued. "If you can fill me in on why you want to come to my place, then..."

She stared at him, even though her voice wavered.

"... That would put me to ease, at least."

"We are in the same hard place, I'm afraid."

Gilgamesh makes himself comfortable in his position since getting acclimated now in the new surroundings is the only way he could deal with this unexpected change. In his younger days, he would have been frustrated, coupled with a narrow understanding and sense of entitlement befitting a royal brat.

But he's becoming an old king, well-learned in the higher arts and perhaps even tempered by fatherhood. So he decides to employ more patience about the situation, even if his streak of haughtiness can make itself known in the subtlest of words and gestures.

"You had unintentionally summoned me using this so-called trinket," he says next after he gives a curt nod of head when she apologized for claiming it as hers to begin with. "And what school do you speak of? Describe your education to me."

The caster-king perks up slightly to hear that this child at least is not deprived of basic learning. The vessel whispers yet again that this era has more intricate social structures and hierarchies. For the most part, certain types of enlightenment have replaced the Old Way but they also created new prejudices and obstruction to a more fulfilling quality of life.

But he digresses. There's something more urgent to understand here.

"So you do not know magic whatsoever?" He poses the question with a curious gaze, "But you have a natural affinity for it. I could detect it. Somewhere back to the roots of your lineage, you had the makings of a practitioner. Alas, you did not inherit the craft directly. Perhaps only in a latent fashion."

The caster-king then appraises her overall countenance, citing, "This is a loaded conversation piece, but suffice to say there is a vessel of power which chose you. To fight in a war among mages. And I belong to a class it deemed as caster."

Without a change in the gentle, almost paternal tone he's been using, he tells her, "Ishimaru, you may call me Gilgamesh. If you choose to enter into a contract with me, I shall be what you call a heroic servant."

He pauses to ascertain how she's processing this.

"Gilgamesh..."

Ishimaru spoke of his name as if it were a magic spell. She seems to be having a hard time digesting all this information. Her lineage? Capable of magic? She recalls reading fine literature about magic before, but she never considered them to be true. But this man sitting beside her now was proof of the practice. She doesn't know if her family knows anything about magic, but knowing would be worth a try. Somehow, she felt at ease. Even though he didn't answer her question, there was a sense of comfort that they both don't know what's going on. She smiled to herself, shaking her head.

"It's fine," she said, smiling his way. "I don't think I've understood it just yet, but is it alright if you guide me on how this... this 'war among mages' works out? I'd be delighted if you helped me out."

As she placed her left hand above the other, she felt a stinging sensation. She looked down and saw a symbol slowly burning the dorsum part of her right hand. She didn't understand why, but this was enough for her to believe. She had no reason whatsoever to participate in this war, but she has no other choice but to oblige. Sighing, she covered the hand with her towel.

"I'll be back in a minute," she said, standing up. "I'd like to get changed first. Is there anything else you need... Gilgamesh?"

She turned to him, waiting for his answer. Somehow, something about his appearance looked awfully familiar. She must be imagining things, but she was sure that she'd heard of his name before...

Still attuned to the trickling thoughts of the girl the vessel nudges for him to take as his master, Gilgamesh says nothing at first about her request. He himself is also still learning the curve so he would be remiss to impart something he's yet to claim absolute authority on.

Perhaps this a joint effort then between himself and the child, though he's a tad disconcerted with her calmness at the moment. It was deceptive, clearly a sign that she's in a state of shock than any grounded reaction.

So he nods again as an unstated permission to leave her to her own devices for now. He has taken into account that she needs to strip off her wet clothes. In the meantime, he walks towards the window to look across the strange world he'd been dispelled in.

He was alone now with the vessel so he speaks to it under his breath, "You've done it now. You gave me flesh in this era. And for what? A war among mages, and to fight it you hand me a girl terribly green behind the ears?"

His self-belief has been challenged for less. What he finds worrisome was not his own state of mind but the girl's own sake. Based from what he can see, she must have been orphaned. Already she's accustomed so a level of independence forced upon her as well as the coping mechanisms it sustained.

"I will not make a corpse out of that childling," he tells the vessel firmly, "So if you don't show me exactly why she qualifies, then I will remove myself from this. Don't think I cannot."

Ishimaru went to her room and quickly stripped out of her wet school uniform that began to adhere to her skin like glue. She sighed when she finally changed into something more comfortable, a loose pale blue nightgown. She brushed her hair before leaving her room.

As she walked down the hallway, she kept repeating his name in her mind. It was awfully familiar. She hummed to herself. He seemed like a very important person, she thought. Could he be... That one time... 

As she walked down the stairs, she could hear Gilgamesh talking. When she was in the last step of the stairs, she saw him by the window. He seemed to be deep in thought. She wondered what was bothering him so much. She furrowed her eyebrows in wonder and began to walk towards him.

"Gilgamesh?" she called out. "Are you alright?"

The more she looked him over, the more she seemed to understand who and what he was. Must be a king, she thought. A king... Probably a magician. From the looks of it, he seems like he knows how to demand things from people. I'm sure he's a king.

Ishimaru smiled. "Hey, we're fine... right? Okay, well, we're in a war for mages. These mages you speak of, they're magic users, right? I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't know any of it. If learning how to use medicine and herbs was magic, then I qualify."

She chuckled at her own joke, shrugging and sighing. She stared at his back and eventually, her smile became a straight line. Her cheeks flushed. He looked taller and... scarier. If anything, she could feel the aura of authority emanating from him. 

"Gilgamesh, you're a king... right?" she asked, looking away from his figure. "I mean, from the looks of it..."

He hears her linger somewhere in the enclosure but doesn't acknowledge her until she approached first. His eyes are still latched on the horizon ahead as a kind of deep-set melancholy graces his face. 

Gilgamesh has no opinion of this world's so-called skyscrapers which were lit by this alchemy called electricity, but he nonetheless views them as the final evidence that he was truly far away from home.

But what was home? He's been in exile for so long, attending to his arcane studies, that he couldn't recall the last time he strode through the halls of his palace in Uruk.

At first it doesn't seem like he even heard Ishimaru ask new questions just now, given how he doesn't turn to look upon her nor give any indication he was listening. But then Gilgamesh exhales and cranes his neck once to ease a knot between that and his shoulder blade.

He then says, "I hold the title, for as long as I live, but it's a distinction I've let go since my successors came. These days I much prefer to be known as a mage. I take great pride in it. It feels like something that belongs only to me because I tolled on it, and not because it was a birthright."

At last he glances at Ishimaru, gazing at her with the same kind of mild interest from before, except with a more demonstrative concern.

"So you aspire to be a cleric? That's noble. Is that what your education is for?"

The caster-king pauses to think about something before he adds, "It will be a troubling thing for you to fight in a war you don't even understand nor are you equipped with the right tools."

Reaching for her hand where the command seal was taking root, he brushes his forefinger on that spot.

"This is no good," he decides. "How can I ask a child to use me as her weapon if she's not skilled enough to wield one to begin with?"

He's addressing this to the vessel still watching from the back of his head.

After another pause, he addresses the girl, "I sense other mages have summoned their own servants already. There are two of them in your city. I don't know where exactly, but I sense the rituals. And they are far more trained to withstand what's to come."

Gilgamesh lets her hand go. In earnest he commands, "Release me. No contract has been made anyway. You are free to walk away if you do not have heart or steel for this."

Ishimaru shook her head. "No, I'm a little far from taking that profession I want to achieve. I'm learning the basics, though. Let's say... Fixing up a bad sprain, a cut, or maybe a fever.

In my school, we study about the basics of what kind of profession we want in the future. Mathematics, science, or arts; a student like me gets around them to choose what's best for me, or what I really want when I go to college--"

As she was trying to explain, she didn't notice that Gilgamesh was now fully turned to her. He took her hand where the symbol was, feeling a slight stinging pain when he slightly bent her fingers. She closed one eye in pain, her lips curving into a frown as he studied her hand. He then began to explain that two other mages were in the city, and that they summoned their own servants. 

The next thing he proposed surprised her. She suddenly felt a sensation akin to a child being abandoned by her family. Not that it was anything new, but it has been long since she felt that sensation. However, even though he had a point about Ishimaru not knowing anything, she still wanted to help the ancient mage. Even though there are a lot of things she doesn't know about what's happening right now, there is one thing that she was sure of:

She didn't want him to leave.

"N-No," she stuttered, shaking her head. "Don't be like that; I'm fine. Please, teach me what I must do. I can't just... You can't just leave me like that?"

She was practically begging, but she wanted him to stay. She stared longingly at him, and it made her baffled for a moment. She only removed her gaze from him to grab the bracelet he gave her earlier, looking at it intently.

"My parents, they... they abandoned me," she said, still avoiding the mage's gaze. "I was told by a guardian that they did not want me anymore. I eventually found out that they've died, my guardian leaving me in the dark about their cause of death. That trinket... I lied! I lied about not knowing about it. I'm sorry--I just didn't... I thought that it was mine, and... I found it at school. The only contact I've ever had with one of my parents was about the school I studied in. I knew they studied there, too, a-and..."

Ishimaru sighed. She must have noticed that this man before her was the wind and the stars at the courtyard all this time. She held the bracelet given to him by Gilgamesh as if it were the most precious object in the entire world.

"They told me about the trinket," she finally said, looking away from him. "I didn't know what it was for, though. What they've only told me before they died was that 'this is who you are.' I never understood how an object had anything to do with me.

"When I found it, I felt happy because it was a reminder of my parents, even though they did nothing but ignore my letters and messages all week. I didn't want to lose it because it made me feel safe; it made me feel happy."

She turned back to him, looking somewhat melancholic.

"It's mine," she said, placing the bracelet on her chest and covering her hands with it. "That trinket is... mine. As for magic, if fate seems to have chosen me as your 'master', then... I command you to stay! I command you to teach me everything you know!"

Her face was flushed with embarrassment due to the outing of her secret, but at the same time, it sounded ridiculous to command a stranger to do her bidding. He was taller, scarier, and he knew a lot more about the war than she did. If anything, he should be her master.

A silence not unlike a vacuum  consumes Gilgamesh as he listens to the girl speak truthfully for the first time. 

His expression is curtailed, revealing nothing more but a glimpse of understated patience that borders into stoicism. He doesn't interrupt and in this angle due to the relaxed pose (with a hand cradled by the pocket of his slacks whilst the other just rests on the side), he doesn't seem like he's even breathing.

But the caster-king was far from being unmoved by the girl's tale of parental abandonment, of the ongoing process of trying to pick up the shards of a life she cannot understand yet, let alone fathom a future in which she has a more active role in making decisions, even dangerous ones.

Gilgamesh still doesn't say a thing after she profusely commands his loyalty, to teach her of the ways she can learn a new purpose, as if she was a mere instrument to be wielded. But no matter how prized a weapon or trinket is, such a thing is only an object.

She didn't seem to understand she is a person of worth that went beyond how useful she could be to someone else, not when the first two people who were supposed to want and love her unconditionally made her feel otherwise; as if she must measure up to their expectations first, both real and perceived, before she could be noticed.

Even though he didn't act like it most of the time, Gilgamesh did consider himself a father to the daughters he sired; they were grown women now who have to discover their own roles in the grander scheme of things. He was proud of them, and his fault, perhaps, was that he never told them often or enough.

And this is what happens to children when parents neglect to see them; Ishimaru is the living embodiment of a progeny who is afraid of her making her own destiny.

The caster-king's muted presence at last changes when he stirs to action. He removes the hand from his pocket and closes the distance between himself and Ishimaru.

Without breaking eye contact, Gilgamesh reaches forward and takes the hand she's grasping the bracelet within. On her upturned palm, the thing sparkles, a beautiful golden light that didn't belong in this world. Gilgamesh then covers that palm by resting his own atop it.

"Some things can be taught," he says, "But others can only be learned."

And with that enigmatic statement, he removes his hand and reveals that the bracelet has now been replaced with the trinket she so fondly proclaimed was hers. He supposed that's fine. Such an emblem was a gift forged for one of his daughters in the past and now, in this new era, it found another girl who has pinned her hopes to it as if it was an extension of her heart.

Gilgamesh understands. He will not stand in the way of seasons, for there is a season for everything, and this is her Spring.

"Where is the nearest library in your city?" He inquires next. "I need to see how much value your archive of knowledge holds. The vessel tells me there is information to be gleaned there."

The caster-king has not actually said he was agreeing to a contract with Ishimaru, at least not until she's more well-informed of what she's getting into. He has not deserted her though, and perhaps that should suffice to quell the aches that still dwell in the unhappy childhood she never deserved.

For a moment it was gone, but now it was hers again.

The trinket that she'd been taking care of for a while was now on the palm of her hands, still looking the same as the day she found it. Trying hard not cry, she smiles and shakes her head. Having been abandoned by the only family she knew, there was still a part of her heart that told her that they have loved her. That was all she believed all this time. 

"Thank you," she whispered. "I hope... I hope you understand how much this all means to me. I'm not so sure if this holds of any value to you, but it's everything to me. I can't thank you enough..."

When he had mentioned about the city library, she nodded. She knew that place all too well. It was the only place where she went to during the weekends, but she only went there to gather information about human anatomy and medicine. That was also the same place where she would sleep, especially during times when she pulled all-nighters. The librarian there knew her, and allowed her to stay as much as she liked. She was not sure if the librarian would allow her to stay there tonight, since Ishimaru hadn't contacted them today.

"It's late, but I can contact the librarian," Ishimaru said, looking at Gilgamesh. "I usually stay there from morning till dawn, so... I think they can let me stay there again. I'll tell them I have to study for a huge exam in the Health Committee."

There was determination in her eyes. She gave Gilgamesh a firm nod and began contacting the library. As expected, the librarian was still there, but they wondered why Ishimaru called so late only to tell them that she had an exam tomorrow. Ishimaru chuckled nervously as the librarian gave her a sermon.

"A-Ah, yes..." whispered Ishimaru through the phone. "I have to study... Yes, I'm sorry. Next time, I'll tell you a little earlier. Um... I need all sections of the library open--just in case! Yes... I'll clean up before I go home..."

The librarian informed her that they were about to leave when Ishimaru called. When the call ended, she fully turned to Gilgamesh.

"We can stay there however you want," she said, shrugging. "We can stay the night there, if you really need to look into something. Oh, I forgot that I should look into something too. Can we do both our work at the same time? I mean, if that doesn't bother you, Gilgamesh."

Ishimaru felt anxious. She had never talked this long to a man before--let alone anyone older than her. She lowered her head to avoid his gaze.

For a moment his expression softens in a way that doesn't seem possible because of how much he exuded regal bearing. But that softness was there as he gazed at the young girl. Her gratitude was pure, much like her heart in spite of the quiet suffering she still endured.

That moment of reprieve doesn't last since Gilgamesh reverts back to his somewhat lukewarm disposition, all while he waits for Ishimaru to do what she must before they could go to the archives. 

He's pleased that she is in personal contact with the curator, so what he does in the meantime was to observe and listen to her negotiate. Afterwards he offers a shrug at her request.

"Whatever suits us both," is all he says as he moves away from the spot he's been standing on so he can approach the door next.

Halfway through there, he stops and glances at the girl.

"I believe I can dematerialize," he explains, "It's one of the--how do you say it in your common tongue--" there's a slight pause before he adds, "...'perks'. Yes, that one. It's a perk."

To demonstrate, Gilgamesh closes his eyes and his entire body disperses in the air through golden flecks. He's everywhere at once and especially at the back of her mind.

{I'm still here. It might be easier to travel this way together. Would you be fine with that?}

The caster-king then waits for the childling to lead the way.

Ishimaru blinked twice and began looking around. Yep, Gilgamesh was everywhere. She could feel him, but she couldn't see him. She was a little surprised when she suddenly heard him speak in her mind, even without a physical presence before her. She nodded at his question. She walked over to the door and opened it.

"It's a little far from here," she said to Gilgamesh. "We're going to have to walk. It's a little dark, so we should watch our step. Oh, and... Am I doing this right? Talking to you, like this?"

She smiled, before turning and walking out of the house. It was cold, as expected. Crickets were practically heard everywhere. Some of the streetlights flickered. She felt somewhat safe, though, feeling Gilgamesh's presence close by. She knew that if something were to happen that had something to do with the "war", he'd pop up in no time.

However, she doesn't know what her role is. Will she command him and tell him to attack the enemy? It would be unwise to keep commanding him without helping him to some extent. It would be bad if the enemy found out that she doesn't know how to use magic.

"Oh, I don't think I've told you yet," Ishimaru said, trying to shake off the thoughts of her vulnerability. "I'm the president of the Health Committee at school. We work for the school clinic, where we learn the basics of medical care. That's why if anything were to happen to you, you can count on me to bandage you right up!"

She hoped that that would work, considering Gilgamesh was real and in the flesh. She began to hum to herself, a way for her to calm her intrusive thoughts.

He doesn't bother correcting her when she says that "they" have to walk. After all, being in spirit form meant that he's in a vacuum back in the vessel that summoned him to a conceived flesh for this era.

Instead he just hums in agreement and doesn't say a word until she starts telling him more about her field of choice. She did sound like she has a real passion for cleric work, so why does she seem to diminish that?

The caster-king sighs once and answers, "It wouldn't be necessary. I can heal myself, if an injury does occur. Besides, when we make a contract as master and servant, your life force would keep my corporal form replenished. I believe that's a stipulation."

He pauses because, again, he still hasn't considered making that contract with her for the time being. She is optimistic and grounded from what he has observed so far. But war will change her. It will test her, and she might not come out the best for it.

...or she could surprise him. Either case, he will exercise prudence.

"The vessel has filled me with enough knowledge regarding your world. But I would like to hear what you make of it."

He measures his next words.

"Is life here worth fighting for?"

Ishimaru felt a little embarrassed when she found out that Gilgamesh can heal himself. Of course he could do that; he's a mage, after all. She nods when he started to explain how the two of them were connected in power, and she was glad that she finally understood a little bit of something he says. 

When he asked something a little more personal, she thought for a moment. She wondered why she began to think so deeply of a question she'd been asked countless times before, especially peers who deeply worried for her. She wanted to become a medical worker because she already knew her answer. 

"I remember this one time where we did field work in the Health Committee."

It's not as if she wasn't ready to answer his question. She somehow wants to tell him the basis of her answer. At least, that way, they'll get to know each other a bit better.

"We were required to go to the countryside and provide medical and nursing care to the locals who couldn't afford to spend for a hospital. Patients were usually old people. We stayed there for about a week. I had a patient that was known all over town for secluding himself in his home, always yelling at anyone who tried to bother him. I found out he had cancer, and he didn't want me to tell anybody. He said he knew he was dying, but there was no one out there in town to take care of him if he ever went to the hospital. The only thing I could do for him was listen to what he had to say everyday, when he would come to our tent. He told my instructors that he didn't want to talk to any of the other students but me, even during break."

Ishimaru laughed as she reminisced.

"By the end of the week, I found out that he had died. One of the instructors gave me a letter that was addressed to me. In that letter, he told me how thankful he was for the care I provided. I wonder what he meant, considering I never gave him medication. That's the day I realized what he actually meant by that. In the letter, he told me that he really was going to die that week and that he knew all along. He just didn't want to tell me. He was happy. He died happy. I was praised for what I did, because he was the most difficult patient we've ever had. I didn't understand at first; all I did was just talk to him."

Ishimaru sighed as she looked up at the sky.

"I'm pretty sure you already know the anwer to my question, but I'll tell you again that... Yes, life here is worth fighting for. At least, from that experience."

Ishimaru finally caught sight of the city library a few yards away. She stopped walking and stared at it.

"My life doesn't have to have value, but when I save other people, that's when I do."

Gilgamesh's attention was divided between listening to the girl and appraising the roads of this city. Nothing truly caught his attention that could distract him from the conversation at hand, save for once or twice when he stared at the lamp posts to admire the wonders of electricity. The vessel has informed him of the mechanism and process used to produce such energy, and a lot of it sounded like a higher form of alchemy that he had not come across his studies before and now made available in this era. He envied it quite a bit, all these conveniences and inventions that he could only glean and comprehend through the vessel's aid.

Perhaps he can stay a while longer just so he can expand his knowledge, but he knows that depends mostly on whether or not he makes a contract with the girl who unintentionally summoned him. Would he be so selfish to risk her life just so he can utilize the time he's given by the vessel in order to understand this new world better?

Perhaps not. In the past he didn't doubt he would choose such a route, seeing as he used to be more reckless in satisfying the urges and desires of his youth regardless of who suffers indirectly from that. It's a different time now, and he a different king.

His thoughts remain veiled while Ishimaru opened up about a stranger whose life she made a difference in. Gilgamesh doesn't say anything at first because in truth he did not understand how that anecdote fits into the question he just posed. Was it an appeal to sentiment--to the humanity that dwelled in his lineage, one that he barely identifies with; save when he confronted loss for the first and last time?

The caster-king appears next to her now, once again fused in flesh and bone yet still very ethereal. Even if she touched him and felt the sinewy and heat of his body, Gilgamesh would still feel like a dream.

"You're very compassionate," he replies in a dry tone. It was a statement of fact, not a compliment. Flattery means nothing to him.

"So life is only as meaningful as you want it to be and therefore it follows that if you believe it's worth fighting for, then it is."

Gilgamesh glances down at her. "You can't save people, childling. Only your own life, and that's the hardest thing in the world, more often than not. Not everyone wants to because living is hard labor, and living yet with only survival in mind."

He steps forward since he could tell they have arrived. This library, an archive of knowledge he is eager to explore, stands there like any lonely building.

With his back turned, he remarks, "If you have any fantasies of heroism, I advise you leave that in your childhood where it can bloom but unattended. The world doesn't favor heroes. Take it from me. Power makes this world, and it's not given. Much like hope, but that is spread among the masses instead. It acts like a mirage in the desert, but it's still a desert all the same."

He starts walking, calling after her. "Come, little cleric, while we still have light ahead of us. Whatever darkness after it, we would have to go through."

<Though not alone> he leaves unsaid.

A little surprised by Gilgamesh's sudden physical presence, she moved a little further away. His inquiry about heroism made her frown, but he somehow made a fair point. She didn't say anything as she opened the huge wooden double doors of the old city library without warning. The librarian was expecting her, but Ishimaru forgot to mention to them that she had someone with her. She decided that they'll just cross the bridge when they get to it.

The library was already dark, but candles illuminated the place. As soon as the librarian caught sight of them, he turned on the lights. The city library, made of old oak wood and steel became illuminated. Dozens of bookshelves lined the middle of the room. There were at least three floors filled with bookshelves. It was as if they were in a different era.

"Good evening," Ishimaru greeted to the middle-aged man by the counter. "I'm sorry for not contacting you sooner. Were you about to leave?"

The librarian shook his head. "No, I was just about to do inventory. Don't you have classes tomorrow, Ishi? You usually stay up late during Saturdays and Sundays."

"This is really important," Ishimaru said, forcing a smile. "I have exams tomorrow, and..."

The librarian's eyes grazed towards Gilgamesh. His smile turned into a straight line, and eventually a confused frown. Ishimaru's eyes darted from the librarian and Gilgamesh.

"Oh! Right!" Ishimaru said, quickly walking up to Gilgamesh's side and held him by the arm. "This is... my friend, Gilga--Gilbert!"

"'Gilbert'?" the librarian repeated. "Oh, I see... He does look like a foreigner to me. What is he doing here, then?"

"Uh..." Ishimaru tapped her fingers on Gilgamesh's arm. "He came with me to study too! He's, uh, he's new! At school! He, um, he needs to study about... Uh... History!"

"Ishimaru, I understand that I let you stay here for a while during evenings, but... I can't let you stay here with... with a man."

"Oh, please don't worry!" Ishimaru said, gently pulling Gilgamesh towards the counter. "Gilbert is... He's married!"

"Married?" The librarian cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes! Married!" Ishimaru insisted, growing increasingly annoyed. "If you want to stay and make sure we don't do anything funny, then you can. I just... Um, I need him here! I was specifically assigned to be with Gilbert!"

The librarian stared at Ishimaru for a moment before staring at Gilgamesh. He was a little anxious, but he ended up sighing and shrugging his shoulders. He gave Ishimaru a small smile.

"A-Alright," he said, looking away. "Make sure you stay where I can see you. Like... There, by the desks."

The librarian pointed at the desk in the middle of the room. Ishimaru nodded and gave the librarian a bright smile.

"I owe you one," she said. "Thank you so much."

"Your parents told me that I should provide you anything you need," the librarian said, smiling. "I don't go back on my word."

The librarian gave Gilgamesh a long and hard look before smiling his way.

"Welcome, Gilbert. I hope you can find things here that... may be of use to you."

His attention was already fixed on the floors above them that he tuned out the interaction unfolding between the two. It was only after the girl addressed him and spoke on his behalf that Gilgamesh allows his gaze to rest on the curator.

"A pleasant evening," he states in a tone devoid of anything; but it's the discerning sharpness of his gaze that hints to a mind that's always taking things into account, filing observations away without hasty judgments.

He doesn't react much while Ishimaru makes excuses about his presence. Clearly decorum was needed in handling the situation. The curator acted very familiar, however, and it's only after he confirmed that he's some sort of guardian assigned by the girl's parents that Gilgamesh decides to interject and offer his consolations.

"I am spoken for," he says in that same unyielding tone that borders on clinical coldness. He lifts his hand where a gold band glistens from his ring finger, before waving that hand in elegant dismissal.

"And I am your lady's guest. She's simply indulged me for this evening as my companion because she and I have a business together, but I possess not the motives you suggest."

He would be insulted if his pride was that easy to wound.

The caster-king is already heading to a direction next, to some nearby shelves on the left. But he prattles on, in the same tone, "Her chastity shall remain intact for as long as she is in my presence. Otherwise, I don't concern myself with the girl's suitors. But perhaps that is your own task to take up on."

He stops, glances back at the pair of them and remarks, "I'd rather you assist me in navigating the breadth of this archive first, however. Where is your Humanities section?"

Ishimaru, embarrassed, approached Gilgamesh. The librarian then followed, pointing to a corner of the first floor. He gave Gilgamesh a nod and returned to the counter, where he continued to do his work. However, Ishimaru felt a little uneasy that they were being watched, the librarian not taking his eyes off of the two of them as he worked. Ishimaru turned to Gilgamesh, looking up at the bookshelves that were beside them.

"So... What are we exactly looking for?" Ishimaru asked.

She has never been in this part of the library before. The book titles around her didn't help either. None of them were familiar. She hummed to herself as Gilgamesh began looking, sneaking a few glances at him here and there, trying to make out what his expressions mean. Gilgamesh then crouched on one side, rummaging through the shelf. 

"I'm sorry," Ishimaru whispered, crouching beside Gilgamesh. "I didn't really make you angry, did I?"

Ishimaru tried to chuckle, but it eventually died out as she watched Gilgamesh focus on what he was doing. She sighed, slightly concerned.

The caster king was already perusing through the titles with such a fierce concentration that he doesn't even notice that he had crouched down. He heard Ishimaru, but her question doesn't register completely.

He replies in haste anyway, "That's not relevant."

It takes several seconds before he realizes what she just said. He turns his eyes away from the spines to shift his attention towards her once more. His fingers remain pressed on said spines, however making it seem as if he's absorbing their knowledge through mere touch alone.

"You've done nothing to displease me," he answers truthfully. "Not yet."

That last part was candid only because he's never been one to cushion anyone's ego with false promises or an appeal to their vanities.

He rises to his feet once more and takes a step back from the shelves.

Inhaling, his eyes flutter shut. A cold silence lasts for a full minute on his part before he opens them again and says, "It's not in this archive. There's another one hidden."

Ishimaru was relieved. She sighed, smiling as she watched Gilgamesh look through the spines in the shelves. Her smile faded when he stood up. She was a little sad when Gilgamesh told her that what they were looking for was not in the area they were in.

"What do you mean?" she asked him. "We have other sections here, if you want to keep looking. Oh, I have to look for something else too... I'll be right back!"

Ishimaru bowed her head and quickly turned to leave. She wasn't lying when she said she needed to look into something while they were there. Ishimaru arrived by the science section of the first floor, but she looked where Gilgamesh was and checked if he wasn't following her. When the coast was clear, she quickly headed for the history section.

There, she began looking for Gilgamesh's name in the index that the librarian made for famous events, heroes, and figures in the past. As expected, Gilgamesh's name was there, and there were at least a few volumes with different authors. One thing she noticed was that a specific book was highlighted with a pen. She assumed that this is the only volume available, and so she began looking for it.

"Epic, epic, epic--Okay, here it is!" 

Ishimaru quietly cheered as she took book from one of the shelves. It was a little old, and the pages were slightly worn out. She flipped the cover open and noticed a paper slipped between its pages. She opened it, noticing how greases stained its edges.

"'To you, from the past'," Ishimaru read. "'Assuming that you are with him, then it's best if you know who you are dealing with'... What?"

Ishimaru disregarded the note and began reading. She was amazed. Was this really the same man she was with right now? She was confused. If not, a little scared. He was... this man, written here?

"But he seems so different," Ishimaru whispered to herself, shaking her head.

Gilgamesh merely watched the girl move away to attend to her own research. He recalled she specifically told him about it earlier, but it didn't feel like it was his concern. Certainly not while he's still trying to figure out the situation regarding the vessel that calls itself the 'Holy Grail' and the war that must be fought in its name.

Once the girl was out of sight, the caster king reaches deep down into the consciousness he shares with the vessel. It's a soft tingling at the back of his mind, lacking any real threat or pressure as a magical presence and yet it was stronger than anything Gilgamesh has encountered in his arcane-based studies and adventures. This was probably the only reason why he's allowed it counsel for so long. Otherwise he would have found a way to cut off their connection--even if said vessel was the only reason he is anchored to this world.

The connection opens up another mystic channel, blurring the lines of the physical and the metaphysical. He watches the shelves before him dissolve into sand, blown away by the strong winds of some magical force he ascertains is from another source of power.

The real archive appears before him next as this gaping vortex, a wormhole that is swirling with purple and red. Gilgamesh was reminded of a swollen wound, but in the gaps of time and memory where everything lost can be restored.

He glances at the curator back in his desk. The man didn't seem like he noticed anything which doesn't surprise. Unless he possessed latent supernatural foresight himself, there's no way he can guess what is unfolding at the moment.

So the caster king steps forward into the vortex and is sucked in immediately. He barely feels it. The open cavern is dark at first before a dozen huge lamps floating from the ceiling lit the entire space. 

The cavern was huge and empty save for four shelves at the center. They face one another, like sides of a square but not nearly as flat. Gilgamesh approaches; the heavy footfalls of his steps echo in the cavern.

He stops midway and looks back at the passage he came from. 

<Ishimaru> he calls out to the girl using psychic connection. <Do not panic when you see the mass of energy that has gathered from the spot you left me. Step into it and we will talk here>

Alas he begins to browse through the tomes across the shelves until he finds what he's looking for. There were two of them, one was a book and the other a scroll.

Gilgamesh turns around and sees that a table has materialized in a convenient manner. He doesn't question the physics of this pocket dimension and simply places the items atop it.

"Are all the masters in this war aware of the tasks set upon them?" He questions the vessel aloud. "Is the one you assigned me to the only master who has her work cut out for her?"

The term of phrase was foreign on his tongue but he decides he likes it. The vessel is changing the pattern of speech to something more contemporary. Its power is quite sustaining.

He takes the book and flips the pages open. Afterwards he glances at the unopened scroll with a near haunted look in his gleaming crimson eyes.

Ishimaru was so immersed with what she was reading that it took a few seconds to register that Gilgamesh contacted her just now. A mix of confusion, fear, and amazement mirrored her features as she carefully placed the worn book back in the shelf.

Not everything about the book was the truth, she thought. It would be better if I try to find out for myself... with Gilgamesh.

Ishimaru followed Gilgamesh's instructions and went back to where they were. The librarian, who was watching closely as Ishimaru walked back, seemed a little concerned as he tried to ignore what was taking place. He sighed as he stirred the cup of coffee in his hand.

"This is going to be a long night," he whispered to himself.

Ishimaru came across the "mass of energy" that Gilgamesh mentioned and approached it. Ishimaru was shook when she realized that she was in a different reality altogether. The only things that illuminated the cavern were lamps. She suddenly felt anxious, and she felt the need to call out--

"Gilgamesh?"

She didn't wait for an answer as she began walking through the passage. She was relieved when it was shorer than she expected. She saw Gilgamesh, but she didn't stand too close to him. There was something about the aura of the room that made her feel uncomfortable.

"I-I'm here," she called out. "Where are we... Gilgamesh?"

She waited for his response. She stared at him. She couldn't take her eyes off him. She still recalls all the legends. She wasn't smiling.

"Is there something wrong?"

"This is the hidden archive I spoke of earlier."

He shifts his eyes back on the girl as she approached with obvious caution. A small part of him wondered where she could have gone to earlier, but it's still a minor detail against the grander scheme of things.

"Nothing is wrong," he responds as he gestures for her to come closer so she can see the book on the table. "But we are facing a huge predicament regarding this war you want to participate in. I've advised you earlier not to make hasty commitments, especially if you simply want to be of use."

Gilgamesh knows he's about to dismantle the core belief of what makes her get up each morning, so he measures his next words.

"You will die if you don't resign yourself to the fact that this is a consuming pursuit. There are no shortcuts, no thoughtful consideration from others let alone forgiveness from enemies you will make once you take your place as master for the Holy Grail War."

This was the first time he finally named it, and the name itself bore a hefty weight that it seemed to have smothered the air inside the cavern. Heat and cold mingle together now, heightening the tension.

In an effort to conserve his patience, the caster king turns over the book to Ishimaru. He wants to be succinct and dwell only on the pertinent facts.

"Seven masters are called to summon their own heroic spirit. These warriors are divided into seven classes. We have Saber..." He points at the contents in the page. "Archer. Rider. Lancer. Caster. Assassin. And Berserker."

His finger glides to another portion. "The master and servant make a contract and this seal is seen on the back of a master's hand known as a sigil. The sigil grants the master three spells to reinforce a command in case the servant refuses to cooperate."

Gilgamesh stares at Ishimaru then. "They can also make the servant do anything using those command spells."

After a short pause he then resumes explaining the other thing. "The heroic spirits summoned are of legend and distinction. They fill up a class depending on a  flexible criteria which is also influenced on the object used to summon them. In your case, it was that ornament which was made for my heir long ago. That's why this was the form I was brought as..."

He spreads his arms though more solemnly than dramatically, "...as Caster."

Gilagmesh watches the girl absorb this information. Afterwards he says, "Making a contract with a servant means you sustain their physical form in the plane with what you call a manna. It's your own life force. At the moment the vessel known as the Holy Grail is what's anchoring me."

He will not ask for her to make that contract. Not now. Not ever. Looking at her frail frame and questioning countenance, he knows that she would never be formidable enough to qualify as a champion. 

"The Holy Grail grants wishes. Any kind of wish. It has that much power. Apparently, it selects anyone who has a desire they want to make reality. With whatever means necessary."

Suddenly, he appears too close to the girl, imposing his height and might. Ruby eyes shimmer, hard like the stone they invoked.

"What do you desire most in the world, Ishimaru Fushimi?"

The caster king closes his fingers around her jaw. The touch manages to be both light and demanding. 

"Do not lie."

Ishimaru had no other choice but to approach him when he called her over. She was a little hesitant, but she realized that she had no time to think of herself when there are greater things at stake. She immediately approached him and looked over the things he was reading.

Of course, she could barely understand the things written, but she was thankful that Gilgamesh read them for her in simple terms. As he explained what she had gotten herself into, her anxiety slowly increased. The moment he told her that death was unavoidable in the war, something inside her chest contorted and spread throughout her body in the shape of fear. She tried hard not to make it obvious through her body gestures, and she nodded as Gilgamesh continued explaining to her.

Suddenly, Gilgamesh's fingers were on her chin. She felt goosebumps crawl over her entire form as she looked up at him. Her eyes were wide, confused, and filled with fear. She placed both her hands on her chest as if in an attempt to calm herself down. Gilgamesh posed her an unusual question; a question that she had never thought of for a while.

Did she really have a wish?

"I... don't really have a wish to be granted."

She knew that as soon as she would say that, she would regret it. However, Gilgamesh didn't want her to lie, and that was her answer. Ishimaru had minimal knowledge about what a "holy grail" is, and the only context she could gather was from a legend that she read during her English class. She did understand it as a wish-granting chalice. However, she found it hard to believe that something like it existed.

Well, Gilgamesh was here right now; he managed to take her to a different dimension, so the holy grail existing was likely too.

"If anything, all I've ever wanted was to know what my purpose in this world really is," Ishimaru said, shrugging. "My parents never talked to me. I don't even know what they look like. And they only gave me an object that made me unwillingly summon you. That's why I don't understand this... this drive that makes me a participant in this 'Holy Grail War.'"

Ishimaru sighed as she grew a little more confident with her words.

"The reason why I wanted you to stay was... because I thought I would find out what my parents really wanted for me. I guess that's what this 'holy grail' detected. Seeing you now, I think they wanted to tell me that this--" Ishimaru gestured around the room. "--is who I am. Being a master is who I am. However, with the role of a master being thrust upon me, I could proudly say that I do not have a wish for the grail."

Ishimaru smiled at Gilgamesh.

"Hey, at least I can easily understand what you're telling me now, right? If these six other masters are more experienced than I am, then so be it. If I'm just as worthy as they were to be chosen, then that means I get some time to prove myself, right?"

Ishimaru touched the hand that Gilgamesh used to touch her chin. 

"Of course it won't be that simple, Gilgamesh. But I have you."

Halfway through her speech, Gilgamesh loosens his grip on her face and lowers it back to his side. He stays on the same spot, however, and observes her expression as he heeds the earnest sentiment in her words. 

He takes notice how her confidence soars and falters like a kite would, dependent simply on favorable winds. He could excuse that as a product of youth though the truth was it's been chafing on what little good graces he had, all for the sake of giving the vessel and the girl a chance to prove they were worth all of this.

It should be quite the feat itself that the caster-king had managed to exercise prudence for this long ever since the vessel called upon him to manifest in this strange new world. Since he considers himself a wiser man, that meant he could be firm or lenient when it came to one thing over the other. Right now his patience has reached its limits.

"I cannot accept you," he admits with the ferocious integrity of the lion-hearted, who will neither settle nor compromise for someone whose force of will he finds questionable.

The caster king turns away and walks back to the table to pick up the scroll. He cradles it like it would disappear between his fingers if he's not too careful.

"Do not ask for my reasons, but know simply that you are inadequate and intolerable."

His tone bears no ill will, not only because he hasn't expressed strong emotions for the longest time since Enkidu's passing, but also because she's a child not worth the distinction of such rage.

Gilgamesh looks over his shoulder and adds, "I'd sooner disappear back into the void from where I was pulled by the Grail than serve a master who doesn't understand that this war is not some route to self-discovery. It's a harsh, brutal cycle of trials that destroys the weak and exults only the brave and ambitious."

He fully turns to Ishimaru, regarding her with pointed scrutiny. "These are qualities you lack, and you can develop them, but not during this war, not while you are thrust in the middle of a  bloody battlefield."

A finger points at her, hardly accusatory, but just as emphasized. "This is my final gift to you, childling. It's a gift that allows you to keep your life and sanity, for you to make something out of yourself that shouldn't be defined by what you think will please others, even if they are family."

The caster-king raises the scroll to his chest and then calls out to the Grail.

"I reject Ishimaru Fushimi. I will not make a contract with her. Find me a more capable master, one that deserves the boon which I'd been called from."

An interval of eerie silence passes as if the vessel was intentionally withholding an answer.

Impatience grows in Gilgamesh as he scowls.

"Well?!"

Suddenly the 'trinket' glimmers from where Ishimaru has it concealed in her person. It would probably burn through fabric if she doesn't take it out. Gilgamesh narrows his eyes at the sight and waits for the vessel's judgment. If the girl had any last prayers to ask of it, perhaps now's the time she could beg. 

But the caster king will no longer be swayed, even if it meant forgetting he's still a father with daughters back home he can soften his heart for.

Somehow, Ishimaru felt sad when Gilgamesh let go of her. Was she really this easy to sway? Was the presence of another being so lacking that a stranger she met a few hours ago can make her feel like this? She understood, of course, that she lacked the guidance of an authoritative figure in her life. Aside from the librarian of the city library, she had no one. Seeing Gilgamesh slipping farther and farther away from her vision made her feel queasy. She felt like she wanted to vomit right then and there. Her face contorted to that of dejection and confusion. She felt hurt, but what can she prove?

Nothing.

She took the trinket and watched as it glowed wonderfully. She'd never seen something so bright and beautiful. Never did she thought that it was what could possibly bring her to her end. 

"Gilgamesh, King of Uruk," Ishimaru said, looking away from Gilgamesh. "That same Gilgamesh... I remember now. You were a tale I've known since I was a child. Yes, they spoke of you. My parents spoke of you. I could hardly remember because that was so long ago. Never did I think that I would stand here before you and pass judgment like that..."

Ishimaru shook her head.

"No, that's not entirely what I wanted to tell you. I understand what you're telling me. If I don't seem to fit your standards of a magus, then..."

She looked at the trinket, then back at Gilgamesh. She looked sadder now.

"I don't have any wishes. My only wish was for you to remain, but that doesn't seem possible now. Don't get me wrong, I... I know I'm not fit to be here or to be your master, but what I do know is that... I need you here."

She reached out her hand, as if trying to grasp the trinket within her fingertips. It's just as beautiful as he is, she thought as her eyes narrowed due to the brightness. What a shame... What a real shame...

Meanwhile, the librarian finished his cup of coffee back at the library. He turned his head to where Gilgamesh and Ishimaru disappeared off to. He narrows his eyes, but he doesn't approach them.

"He seems different from when I've last seen him," he whispers. "Is this the same king? He doesn't seem violent this time. Ishimaru... She's got herself wrapped up into this mess, eh..."

He sighed and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it with one of the candles on the counter.

"Ah, dear... Some people are destined to die when they get involved..."

He glanced at a portrait of Ishimaru's parents that was hidden within plain sight.

"... Isn't that right?"

Back in the vortex, Ishimaru felt somewhat betrayed, and she wanted to shout her feelings so bad. What was the point of speaking her mind when Gilgamesh already knows what she's thinking? All she can offer him is a sad look and a fidgetty posture. 

"I--I don't have much else to say," she said, feeling tears coming. "I thought I was going to find out more about them... You too... What killed them..."

She was growing increasingly confused. She shook her head as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Please don't go," she whispered. "I know I don't know anything, but please...!"

Gilgamesh couldn't stand the sight of the pitiful girl anynore. If his chest twinged with some lingering sympathy, his enormous self-control was able to squash it instantly.

He has no more words to say to her. She understood them but was obviously in denial, so eager to cling to whatever passing connection she felt because of the void in her heart where her parents should have filled. Gilgamesh had no plans to become her new parent. That burden was not his to claim.

So instead he waits for the vessel to respond. When it does, it simply communicated with a neutral acceptance. Perhaps it also recognized that it cannot make the caster king comply now that his decision was final. It did, however, offer to keep the caster king grounded in this realm until a more suitable magus was procured....

...or found him instead.

Gilgamesh holds onto the scroll and keeps his eyes on the girl one last time as his form disintegrates until there's nothing more but golden flecks in the air yet again. The last to go were those unforgettable serpentine eyes.

The archive itself narrows around Ishimaru and--with a sudden force--it swallows the girl in its darkness before spitting her out back in the plane of reality that was her home. Some of the books on the shelves facing her would fall land on the floor and maybe even hit her.

But the archive is nowhere to be found. So was the caster king who summoned it.

Meanwhile, the 'trinket' darkens. The shimmering gold looks almost rusted as the jewels lose their shine.

Ishimaru finds herself back at the library, a few books falling from the bookshelf in front of her and hitting her square on the head. As soon as the librarian heard a yelp, he quickly rushed to where Gilgamesh and Ishimaru was, only to find Ishimaru standing still with her arms above her head. He proceeds to pick up the books that fell.

"Where's Gilgamesh?" he asked.

Ishimaru's eyes widened when the librarian mentioned Gilgamesh's actual name. He knew who he was? She turned to face him, giving him a questioning look.

"I don't know," Ishimaru whispered, averting her gaze.

"I'm sorry," he said, bowing his head. "I obviously knew who he was as soon as he stepped in. I appreciate how you covered up for him, though."

"He's gone," Ishimaru said, staring off into nothingness.

"I expected as much. Your parents had the same servant years ago. I made a promise to them not to tell you, but... It seems they didn't tell me the last few things I needed to do for you before they died."

"They knew Gilgamesh, didn't they?" Ishimaru asked, picking up the other books on the floor.

The librarian nodded. "Yes, they did. Your... Well, your mother was the one who was specifically tied to him. Your mother also had a difficult time trying to win the king's favor. The king was arrogant; he called her a lot of names in front of us, but he was strong; that part of him cannot be doubted."

"I want to learn magic," Ishimaru responded as she returned the books to the shelves. "If I got myself involved in the war, then it's better if I get myself even more involved..."

"Please do be careful. You're not the only master in this city. I'm pretty sure someone knows by now that you're a capable master."

"'Capable'?" Ishimaru repeated, shaking her head. "I'm far from being capable. Gilgamesh, the king, said so himself."

The man smiled. He knew that she'd cried when Gilgamesh left, and it reminded him so much of Ishimaru's mother. It was the same scenario, but the King of Uruk was relentless. He made her do his bidding instead of the other way around. The librarian sometimes wondered who the real servant was.

The librarian can see and sense the same determination. He watched as Ishimaru slowly rose to her feet, dusting off her nightgown with an evident scowl on her face. He smiled.

"Why don't you go after him?" the librarian suggested.

Ishimaru groaned as she walked past him. "He's gone. Why would I look for something that's gone?"

The librarian hummed. "Nope, he's still here. In the city. He's evidently an independent servant, I give him that."

Ishimaru stopped walking and looked back at the librarian. He was still smiling.

Oh, this is getting interesting, he thought. Of course she wouldn't know that. She doesn't know her potential on magecraft.

"You can tell?" she asked, taking a step towards him.

"Yes, but I can't pinpoint his location," the librarian said, shrugging. "I can only sense a life force that isn't that of this world; magic, specifically. I can sense a few servants with their masters, and one servant without a master. That's... obviously Gilgamesh."

Ishimaru was a little taken aback by the librarian's statement. Her face flushed and she could hear heart beating in her ears. She couldn't describe what she felt at that moment. However, one thought came into her mind:

I need to get him back.

"I won't stay for tonight! Thank you for your time!"

Ishimaru sprinted outside of the library and back home. The librarian watched as she disappeared into the horizon, engulfed by darkness. He smiled and shook his head, going back behind the counter. He looked at the portrait again.

"I know I decided against your wishes of protecting her from harm, but this is a better path for her, no?"

He smiled as he began to prepare himself a glass of wine.

"Ishimaru Fushimi... Will you be able to endure the same trials that your kin has experienced?"

The librarian gave a toast to no one in particular and downed the entire glass as the night went on.