Life inside of the Throne of Heroes was more akin to non-existence.  The passage of time didn't mean anything as the hero could not remember what had happened before the time he manifested within the Grail.  Even his time within the Grail could be compared to suspended animation.  He didn't hunger or thirst or think or feel.  He merely existed for a fraction of time.  Until he was given a body, his thoughts and desires meant nothing.  He was here only in preparation for what was to come.

The scratching of chalk was the first sensation that he had felt for the entirety of his existence.  The relentless sound of chalk scratching against a stone floor.  The rough scrapping in almost rhythmic tempo.  The sound never lasted for more than two or three seconds before there was the briefest of silence.  It was grating and nearly maddening.  Thankfully for him he was only capable of perceiving.  He could make no firm judgements about the sounds.  He merely waited.

There was even more silence after the grating sound faded.  Somewhere deep down he knew what was occurring.  As his mind was being assembled he knew the process of his summoning somehow.  A dual existence within his mind.  He was a construct of the Holy Grail.  A vessel for mana given will under the command of a magus.  His purpose was to fight and eventually fall whether by the hands of another Master and Servant or simply to be consumed by the Grail to complete its purpose.

However he was also Siegfried.  He was a prince in life, but more prominently he was a warrior of legend.  He was invincible due to the magics in the blood of the dragon he slew.  He wielded an enchanted sword capable of beating any army.  He was a knight above all else who loyally served his lord, and he died to a betrayal from those very ideals.

Somewhere he could hear the faint chanting of a female voice...

His memories flooded back to him.  Each and every one of them.  He knew of his service to his lord Gunnar.  He knew of his betrayal to the queen Byrnhild.  He could perfectly remember each life that he had taken and each person he had wronged.  He could remember those that he helped.  Whose lives he touched in a positive light.  He was immediately aware of how few those were in comparison.

A bright light filled his vision once he became capable of perceiving it...  Feeling returned to his body accompanied by the numbing sensation of his magical skin...

With perfect clarity, he could account for every sin he committed in life and judge himself.  He could see in hindsight that he had not lived up to his ideals.  He wished to be a true ally of justice, a true hero.  Instead, he was a numb weapon who acted in accordance to others wishes.  He trampled on his sense of justice in the interest of those who sought his power.  He knew what he had to do.  His very existence may be limited to this 'game,' but he would not betray himself once more.

The light faded and the dust cleared.  A man with long silvery hair stood in the center of the circle the young girl drew.  He stood several heads taller than her.  His figure toned and hardly obscured by bulky armor.  Green veins streaked across his chest, one rising up his neck and ending on his right cheek. 

He looked down on her.  His bright green eyes slowly took her in, focusing on the blood-red crest on the back of her hand.  His voice echoed slightly in the chamber as he spoke.

"I am Saber, your Servant.  I have come in response to your summoning.  I ask of you.  Are you my Master?"