Chapter 44: The Nameless Forest Part 1
The moment Riya and Rin stepped onto the third floor, the air shifted.
It was colder—unnaturally so—and smelled faintly of lavender and iron.
A dense fog clung to the ground, swirling around their feet like mist given sentience.
The sky above was a canvas of static, flickering between day and night with no in-between.
Light bent at strange angles.
Shadows moved even when nothing did.
There was no welcome.
No sign.
No sound, except for the soft ticking of unseen clocks.
Somewhere distant, something giggled.
Riya froze.
Robin Hood muttered, "This place ain't right."
Fergus cracked his knuckles. "Weird floor or not, we push through."
Richard narrowed his eyes at the sky, already calculating something. "Be on alert. This realm doesn't obey logic."
Rin took Riya's hand again, tighter this time.
He glanced at her, his heart echoing with the tension in her grip.
"This place…" she said softly, "feels like it was made to drive us mad."
Riya nodded once.
"Then let's make sure we don't go crazy alone."Riya said with a half-grin, offering his hand to Rin.
Together they stepped forward as the capsule behind them vanished into mist.
The floor beneath them gave slightly with every step, unnaturally soft—like walking on an endless mattress.
It wasn't grass.
It wasn't carpet.
It breathed.
With every shift of their weight, something just beneath the surface wriggled, as if the world itself was watching.
The sky overhead was a pale gray, cloudless, yet there was no clear sun.
Light just... existed.
There were trees here and there, though none were natural.
Their branches were too perfectly curved, too symmetrical—like decorations in a child's room.
Their trunks were wrapped in ribbons, their leaves made of lace.
And then there were the toys.
Not animals.
Things that had been made to resemble and yet were not.
Puppet-like creatures shuffled about in the distance—stitched rabbits with glassy, blinking eyes.
Tiny horses on springs that bounced up and down without end.
A doll-like bear sat in a tea set, pouring nothing into nothing, head twitching every few seconds like a broken animatronic.
Cú Caster clicked his tongue as he stepped over a seam in the ground, his foot suddenly landing on a brick floating in midair.
Another materialized a foot ahead of him.
Without hesitation, he leapt.
And another appeared.
And another
"I'm walking on the damn sky," Cú muttered, half-impressed, half-unsettled.
His coat fluttered behind him as he advanced across the invisible path, bricks blinking in and out of existence beneath his boots.
"Try not to fall," Rin called. "If the laws of physics don't apply here, you might drop straight into someone's nightmare."
Cú didn't respond, but his pace slowed.
Rin and Riya stayed on the ground, following the path ahead.
The eerie puppets didn't interfere—only watched, their heads swiveling silently as the group passed.
Somewhere far off, a music box played a slow, broken lullaby that repeated in irregular, halting tones.
Rin tightened her coat. "I've heard rumors about this floor," she said, voice low.
"Rumors?" Riya asked.
"They called it the Nameless Forest."
"Said it's where forgotten spirits gather."
"Masters who came here were never seen again."
"Some say the Servants they brought left without them."
She looked around warily. "One magus said it was a conceptual space—shaped by a dying wish."
"Great," Riya said. "Another place built on pain."
They kept walking.
Robin had joined them now, keeping close to Riya's right.
His cloak swished lightly as he moved, the usual cocky smile replaced by a tight frown.
When a low whisper echoed from nowhere in particular, he visibly shivered.
"Can we not talk about ghosts while we're actually surrounded by them?" he muttered.
Rin smirked. "You're an servant."
"Aren't you supposed to be braver then that?"
"Yeah? Well, I'm brave, not blind."
"This place wants to be creepy."
Ahead of them, the fog began to part—revealing the unmistakable silhouette of a castle.
No.
Not a real one.
A toy's imitation of it.
Its towers were misshapen, soft-edged.
The bricks were pastel colors, rounded and puffy like cake frosting.
One turret had a candy cane for a spire.
The drawbridge was half-lowered and clearly made of oversized playing cards.
Riya narrowed his eyes. "That thing's… supposed to be a castle?"
"Looks like something out of a fever dream," Robin said. "For toddlers."
Rin was less amused. "It's definitely enchanted."
"Probably alive."
They approached cautiously.
The entrance was... comically small.
Just five feet high at best—rounded, like the front door of a gingerbread house.
Leonidas stopped beside it and tried to kneel through.
His shoulder barely fit.
"Nope," he said with a booming laugh.
"That's not happening."
Fergus came next, cracking his knuckles. "I could break it down—"
"No!" Rin snapped.
"No breaking. It could trigger a trap. Just stay out here and keep watch."
The two big Servants exchanged a look, but ultimately nodded.
With no choice, they stepped back as Riya, Rin, Robin, Richard and Cú slipped inside.
The moment they crossed the threshold, it felt like they'd been swallowed.
Darkness.
Cold.
Silence.
The air changed, becoming heavier.
The interior of the "castle" was nothing like its sugary exterior.
Drawers floated midair—some open, some closed, with items inside that moved when no one looked directly at them.
The floor beneath was a field of scattered, crumpled paper, covered in strange doodles and scribbled words that made no sense.
Pillars of birdcages reached up toward the invisible ceiling.
Inside each cage were cards—playing cards, tarot cards, flashcards—but each seemed to pulse with a faint, golden light.
Riya paused at one.
The card inside turned slowly, revealing the Jack of Hearts.
Its eyes blinked.
He stepped back.
"Something's wrong here," Rin whispered.
"No kidding," Robin muttered.
They continued deeper.
Eventually, they entered a room that appeared to be a stone bathhouse.
A lion's head—carved from gray marble—was mounted on the far wall.
From its open mouth, a trickle of black water poured into a wide pool that stretched across the chamber.
No bridges.
No stepping stones.
But as Riya took a tentative step forward, the surface solidified under his foot.
"Walk on water."
"Sure."
"Why not," he muttered.
They crossed.
Beyond the water room came a forest—but not the one from before.
This one was filled with white trees, all brittle and leafless.
Their bark was etched with runes that flickered like dying candlelight.
The air reeked of mushrooms—fat, puffing fungi that released clouds of glittering spores with every breeze.
It was there—amid the fog and fungi—that Riya saw her.
A child.
A girl, no older than ten, darting between the trees.
Pale dress.
Pale skin.
Long, platinum-blonde hair trailing behind her like a ribbon.
"Wait!" Rin called.
The girl didn't respond.
"Should we follow her?" Robin asked.
Riya didn't hesitate. "Yes."
They ran.
The forest gave way suddenly to a pristine white hallway.
So white it hurt the eyes.
Furniture drifted in midair—tables, chairs, picture frames that rotated slowly, impossibly, like orbiting moons.
At the far end, a massive white bed sat beneath a glowing chandelier.
And on that bed sat the girl.
Performing a puppet show.
Her hands moved slowly, each finger wrapped in black lace gloves.
The shadow-puppets danced along the sheets—two figures walking together, facing monsters, climbing a tower.
The shadows looked... familiar.
She noticed them.
Her expression froze—then melted into wonder.
"You can see me?" she whispered.
Riya stepped forward. "Yes. We can."
Her eyes lit up like stars.
She leapt off the bed, giggling as she ran to them, circling them in wide loops. "They can see me! They can really see me!"
She stopped in front of Riya, squinting up at him, then at Rin.
"I didn't think anyone else would come."
"Not really come."
"Not like you."
She gave a deep, princess-like curtsy.
"My name is Alice!"
Rin's breath hitched.
She saw it now.
The slight transparency in the girl's frame.
The way her shadow didn't move like the others.
The way her feet didn't quite touch the ground.
A phantom, she thought.
A wandering spirit.
Riya, always more direct, asked gently, "Are you alone here?"
Alice's smile flickered.
"Yes," she said, swaying a little.
"Nobody else ever really sees me."
"They pass through."
"They forget."
"But you didn't."
"That makes you special."
Her hand rose—lace gloves sliding back just slightly to reveal—Command Seals.
Rin's body tensed. "You're… a Master?"
Alice tilted her head. "I didn't mean to be."
"But the Grail called me."
"It said I had a wish."
"So I came."
"And I stayed."
"And I played." She smiled again.
"Do you want to play a game with me?"
There was something devastating in that smile.
Pure.
Unguarded.
Neither Riya nor Rin could say no.
"Sure," Riya said. "What kind of game?"
Her eyes sparkled.
"Hide and seek."
To be continued.