Illya and Artorias stood in silence. While Artorias had outwardly calmed down, he wouldn't look at her. His inner thoughts had become a mire of self deprecation. The Abysswalker felt like a failure. Not only did he severely endanger his Master, but after his confrontation with Lancer, a memory of loss and defeat returned to him. He was sent to a land then known as Oolacile, to rescue a princess. Yet, the Dark had ravaged and swallowed the land long before he even got there. Foolishly, he sought to fight against the Dark, and even for all of his efforts, he only managed to endanger his canine companion Sif and be claimed by the very entity he aspired to conquer. The thought of past failures and mistakes whirled within the mangled mind of the Abysswalker, and into the quiet night, he released a pained howl.
Illya could feel the regret and remorse her Servant bore, the heavy weight of his despair seeking to crush her own soul. But she refused to break. She strode over to her Servant and, in an effort to comfort his mind, hugged him. And to his surprise, the contact between him and his Master seemed to melt away his negative thoughts. In fact, he began to find this slightly comical, as due to their massive size difference, Illya had only been able to barely wrap her arms around his left leg. Sensing that Artorias had truly calmed down, she released her hold and gave him an earnest smile, genuinely happy that her servant had a reprieve from the pain he bore. To have one's life and purpose stolen, the memories of those once held close, would be incredibly distressing, especially if one was slowly realizing all that was taken, just as her servant was doing. She wanted to spare Artorias from such heartache, even if it was only temporary. She wasn't sure exactly when it had happened, but she had grown fond of the Berserker, and it hurt her, in every sense, to see him pained in this manner.
"Well," Illya said. "It's about time we moved on." She wasn't sure how long they had been standing in that park since Lancer departed, but she had decided it was too long. "I'm sure everything will go swimmingly from here," she said reassuringly, urging the Berserker to dematerialize, an unspoken request he reluctantly obliged. With that, Illya returned to her mission, forging ahead with singular purpose. She had plans on what she would say to Kiritsugu, and she could hardly wait to see her dear father once more. She hastily exited the park, scarcely taking notice of the young woman carrying a seemingly unconscious body and muttering to herself.
"There's no one in this park…" Rin grumbled. "I understand that he'd be on guard, but he didn't have to leave me!" Rin scoffed. "'Want to get a wide view of the area' he said. How are you supposed to get a wide view if there are trees everywhere! When he get's back I am so giving him a piece of my mind…" she continued to moan and complain of her Servant's 'lapse of judgement', as she phrased it, leaving her to carry the unconscious Shirou Emiya. In the midst of her verbal tirade against the offender, she managed to take note of the young girl walking alone in the park. She briefly considered saying something to her along the lines of 'children shouldn't be out this late', but ultimately decided against it. She had more important things on her mind than the goings-on of some eight-year old. Her daddy must be nearby somewhere, so there should be no cause for concern. No one would just leave a child in a park this late at night unless they were either crazy or a complete and total asshole. Or both. But she hadn't seen anyone that acted crazy recently. And the girl looked like she was okay, smiling to herself about something or other. Therefore, Rin rationalized, that everything was fine. One potential circumstance that Rin thought of would be that she had bodyguards or something. She was wearing what looked to be really expensive clothing, so her parents were probably rich or Yakuza or the Mafia or something, so it would be in her best interest to steer clear of the young lass. Plus, she hated children. After considering all these factors, Rin came to the conclusion that the little girl was, decidedly, someone else's problem. She mentally chided herself for caring so much about some random little girl and thought no more on the matter, directing her thoughts back to how her Servant had wronged her so.
"Careful!" Archer said, suddenly appearing next to Rin, causing her to jump in surprise.
"D-don't sneak up on me like that!" Rin yelled, her face red from the embarrassment of being caught off guard.
"Someone approaches," he said, drawing his crossbow and disregarding Rin's proclamation. He stared down the path Rin was walking, ready to fire at a moment's notice. Rin, however, was focusing on the area around them. The night was eerily quiet, with nary a soul around; not even the whispering of the wind or the chirping of insects could be heard in that park. Now that she was paying attention to it, she found the ambience of the area unsettling. There they stood for what seemed like an eternity, until from down the road, the pair heard a faint squeaking sound. As the figure approached, Chester grumbled. "Whoever is coming down that path is extremely dangerous," he said, glancing at Rin.
"What makes you say that?"
"I… don't know. Something about their presence… it's chilling me to my core. It's as if every fiber of my being is screaming out in fear just by being this close to it." Hesitantly, Chester lowered his weapon. Coming toward them, in an ornate wheelchair, was an elderly man. He wore a brown jacket over a similarly covered vest with faded red pants and a black hat as well as a tattered cloak and scarf. His right foot was replaced with a peg, and in his hand he held a brown cane. Rin stared as he came to a stop in front of them, somewhat surprised that his old-fashioned wheelchair seemed to be moving of its own volition.
"I take it you are Rin Tohsaka?" He asked in a low, gravelly tone.
"Yeah…?" She replied hesitantly. She looked into his eyes, dull and weathered, framed by his gray hair. This man looked like he would die of old-age at any second, holding on for some reason Rin didn't dare guess.
"Heh," the old man chuckled, seeming more like a cough to Rin's ears. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said, giving as much of a bow as he could from his wheelchair. "The name is-"
"Gehrman." Chester said curtly. The old man gave another chuckle at this.
"Yeah, what he said."
"You know him?" Rin asked.
"I know of him," Chester replied. "In my old occupation, everyone knew the legend of Gehrman, the First Hunter."
"It seems my reputation precedes me," he chortled. "Regardless, I'll cut to the chase. My Master wanted me to follow you." Chester immediately raised his weapon again, cursing himself for even daring to lower it. Gehrman stared at the offending crossbow, a smirk plastered on his aged face. "However, I'm not here to harm you."
"As if we should believe that!" Chester scoffed.
"Put that toy away, boy. You might hurt yourself. But it is true, my Master seems to have quite the fascination with you." Rin sighed.
"You're talking about Shinji, aren't you?"
"I think that's what he calls himself," Gehrman confirmed. "Anyway, it would leave a bad taste in my mouth were I just to follow a young woman as she goes about her business, so I decided to introduce myself.
"Why?" Rin asked. "Doesn't that put you and Shinji at a disadvantage? I mean, now I know who you are, and Shinji already told me that you're Rider. What's to stop me from figuring out your Noble Phantasm and sending that information to others?"
"Nothing, I suppose. Though I'm not too worried about that. The Grail isn't mine to win in the first place."
"What makes you say that?" Chester asked incredulously.
"We're all just puppets in this game, boy. You, me, even my so called Master. I've just been a puppet longer than most. I know how these things go."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Rin asked.
"That's not my place to say. But to answer your earlier question: I'm telling you this because my 'Master's' strings are going to be cut. And when that happens, either I'll be subject to someone else's whims, or I'll be gone from this plane for good. And honestly, I just want to be done with everything. But, if I am forced to fight, I will." The two stared at the wheelchair bound man in silence.
"Well now," Chester said, giving a laugh of his own. "That is certainly not what I expected."
"It would do you good to start expecting everything," Gehrman replied. "But it does feel good to say these things to someone. One does get tired of talking to a doll all the time." Rin decided not to comment on that. "I'll be going now," he said, his wheelchair starting to move away from them. "It was nice meeting you. I hope that, if we meet again, it will not be as enemies. Lastly, one word of advice, from one Hunter to another: watch out for the one in golden armor." Without another word, the old man left.
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind…" Chester mumbled.
"Well I hope all the distractions are done," Rin said, hoisting Shirou onto Archer. "I'm sick of carrying him. Let's just go home already; I need to sleep."
"You got it, Master. You know what they say: '8 hours of sleep a day keeps you young, fresh, and free of disease!'"
"No one ever has said that."
In another part of town, Illyasviel found out that Kiritsugu Emiya had died. But she had learned the name of his adopted son: Shirou Emiya.
Okay, the framework for this terrible story is almost done, so the actual war part of this will happen soon and the action will pick up. On a completely unrelated note, Bojack Horseman is, like, my favorite show right now. On an even more unrelated note, if anyone has ever written or knows of a crossover fanfiction that mixes Sailor Moon and Durarara, please bring it to my attention. I would read the h*ck out of that. And my last unrelated note, I am hyped about that Pokémon Sun and Moon.