and then there was a dystopia.

[bolide]

The novelty of snow had worn off eventually. Enkidu was not strictly speaking confined - he could roam the castle and the surrounding area as he saw fit, as was only right He did, naturally, though he did not pry too much into their affairs, occasionally holing himself up for hours to study up on what he'd missed, several thousand years were a big gap in the mind, and he did not have the advantage of a summoned Heroic Spirit, of being endowed with the knowledge of the current era. So he taught himself.
Months passed.

Months passed and he met people, and he was told about the war and the Holy Grail, though people kept dodging some of the questions, he'd noticed. Not too long after, even he could feel the shift in magic that occured in the castle. His senses hadn't dulled. He sensed the summoned person, the non-human, though faintly, and how could he help being curious? As the First Hero, who so many had followed after, how could he help craving to meet one of them face to face? Of course, not right away. Not immediately after the summoning, but soon. Patience was never his greatest virtue.


He hadn't expected that a Spirit would need to eat, but as silent footsteps carried him through the seemingly endless corridors to the kitchen of all places, it left little room for doubt. He walked in, all ease and grace.