[ In light of his surroundings, skies of colors far from natural, but beautiful all the same, the sting is easily forgotten. This body of his needs not to worry about such a thing (though in the face of an unknown place where the Grail has given him no knowledge, any worry is necessary), and Arjuna continues along in his path to find a familiar face or who has called him.

One, two, three, four steps, and the slight burn on his skin is new. Nothing has hit him (nothing would hit him, Arjuna, renowned archer, for he would never allow harm to come at him so easily), but once his skin is exposed, a strange mark ( ✾ ) lays there - any worry is a must.

The body suffers no anomalies that he can sense, or tell, but a look forward again sings another song. The pinks and purples long gone, replaced by greys and dark browns. The landscape is vast, running farther than his sight can follow. It brings a sense of nostalgia, but hardly something he should feel homesick about. Only the opposite.

The silence that embraces him is disconcerting, for Arjuna knows not whether all the noise has been shut down, or his own hearing has been tampered with. He is alone - he has wished for it, once, continues to do so, even -, but in the distance, voices begin to take shape. ]

▉▉▉▉ [ One says. ]

▉▉▉▉ [ Another. ]

▉▉▉▉ [ A couple sing. ]

▉▉▉▉

[ They grow louder, with no face to attach such accusations to. Arjuna flaunts himself in his ability to stay calm and collected at all times, a proper figure of a hero, but where no one can see him - where he thinks no one can see him, only point fingers at him with sharp words -, the divine bow Gandiva materializes in his hand, and through gritted teeth and lost composure, the prince turns, arrow at deck. ]

Show yourself!

[ The sight comes as a surprise, the questions even more. Has he lost? Has he been defeated - in the battlefield, or out of it to add to his endless list of shame? His body - the one reflected in the pond, a perfect mirror of the real thing - is in perfect shape, the white of his clothing not posing a single tear, let alone any dirt. It, despite being in the arms of another Servant, is in the perfect condition Arjuna would always present himself.

Magecraft, a guess comes with no hesitance. A planted image of what could be happening, what many would wager to be the answer to their most important question. Arjuna disregards it. Until more answers come his way, answers to which he would have no reason to distrust, his search continues.

He turns to leave, only to be met with another who approaches the pond - or would they be approaching him? Nonetheless, a quiet exhale escapes from him, and the archer chooses to approach the person, instead. ]

I would advise against it. That pond seems not to bear potable water, and I believe it to be enchanted in some way. [ He, a Heroic Spirit, possesses natural Magic Resistance, but what such a vision would have to one more susceptible to magecraft is unknown. ]

[ Answers. Hints, even. Anything that could subdue the many questions that flood his mind. The device is reminiscent of what Arjuna has seen in Chaldea, and though he knows not how to work with it - nor such has been a knowledge imbued within him within his summoning -, an attempt has been made.

And ah, what a mistake it has been. The holograph is not new - Doctor Roman and Leonardo Da Vinci often made use of it -, but what it displays is entirely too unexpected, not more than he music that plays. It's unsettling, to say the best, especially to one who travels in quietude and seeks to do things calmly and gently. The song is quite unlike his ideal, differs far too greatly from what the Hindu hero knows to be music.

In one of his many attempts to turn it off, the volume only increases. What an unfortunate encounter. What face would he show, if someone were to find him meddling with a small device to helplessly...? ]

[ Albeit suspicious, there had come no immediate reaction to the inquiring, curious bunch aside from vague answers to their questions and compliance. This place he knows little of, and those that know not of personal space are natives, as he sees it. To struggle, or react in any way that would differ from his polite, hero-like attitude would be only foolish. Arjuna is at disadvantage here, despite all his weapons and powers and place as one of the world's most talented archers, so he chooses to play along.

The treats he is given (he sees it as nothing else, as though he is an animal to be trained and tamed), though pose no worth for him, are safely kept by his side. The way to his temporarily assigned room is slow, eyes watching every creek and corner of the suspicious vehicle. Nothing he would know much of, but the weird smell that colors the place has since the beginning been suspicious. Poison, or...?

What surprises Arjuna is the most is another at "his" quarters. He has been told not that he would be sharing a room with someone else, but chooses not to visibly demonstrate his surprise. Instead, graceful as always, he steps inside, and the door behind him closes without a sound. ]

You're not one of them. [ The prince begins, without barely inspecting the other person to know whether he poses correct or not. They would not room him with their kind. ] As it seems we will be lodged together for a while, if there is anything you may request of me, I will offer my aid to the best of my ability. It would do us no good to make enemies, after all.