Breathing in the cool, smoky air, Bennan watched the fire crackle and flicker, its soft light driving back the darkness around their temporary camp.
Varric walked the perimeter, eyeing the forest sternly.
Bennan sat in front of the flames with Toven and the nameless girl across the pit from him.
"So when the fog rolled in, we packed up camp and moved north to get away from it," Toven said, taking another bite of roasted wolf meat. "That's when we ran into you. You got really lucky."
He swallowed, then added with a mouth still half full,
"Really lucky, actually. When I first got here six months ago, I wandered around for weeks before Varric found me."
Six months?
He already knew this Nightmare was different from the last one — finding other people from his world had proven that much. But if Toven had been here for half a year…
What were they supposed to accomplish?
In his last Nightmare, he had to overthrow a king.
Here, he'd seen no inhabitants at all.
Turning to Toven, Bennan asked, "Have you figured out the condition to clear this Nightmare yet?"
Across the fire, the girl looked up from her food, suddenly interested.
Toven stared back at Bennan, confusion slowly spreading across his face.
"This isn't a Nightmare, Bennan. This place — as far as we can tell — is real."
He gestured vaguely toward the dark forest.
"From the stories we've heard from strays passing through our town, there aren't any natives left in this world."
He paused.
"As for clearing it… the only way to leave is to find a Gateway. We have one in our town, inside the chu—"
"Toven. Come here!"
Varric's voice cut through the night.
Toven winced slightly. He gave Bennan an apologetic look before pushing himself to his feet and walking away.
Silence settled over the camp.
So this place is real.
If they had a Gateway in their town, then they must have already returned to Earth at least once.
Which meant they'd likely advanced in Rank.
Did that mean, like them, he would have to keep returning here?
He exhaled slowly, staring at the empty roasting stick in his hand.
After a moment, he stood and walked around the fire to sit beside the girl.
She watched him approach, her expression neutral.
He sat beside her in silence for a moment before turning slightly.
"Your flaw is that you can't speak?"
Her expression didn't change, but she nodded once.
Bennan glanced around, then down at the stick in his hand. Leaning forward, he used it to draw in the dirt.
B-e-n-n-a-n
"That's my name. What's yours?"
She stared at him for a long moment.
Long enough to make him shift awkwardly.
It occurred to him that she might also be deaf. They had struggled to communicate with her since meeting. But it was also possible she simply didn't know how to write.
Not everyone had been taught.
Most parents passed on whatever schooling they remembered from before the war. But children who lost their parents young never got that chance.
Bennan remembered when his own parents had been too busy scavenging for food to teach him anything. Only after synth paste production restarted in the main city — and rations stabilized — had they found time to gather old textbooks and begin teaching them properly.
The girl slowly raised her stick.
Carefully, she traced letters into the dirt.
Bennan leaned forward slightly, watching in anticipation as the lines formed.
T-e-s-s
A small smile tugged at his lips.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of unhurried footsteps approaching cut him off.
"You two should get some rest," Toven said. "Varric and I don't need to sleep as often. We'll take turns keeping watch."
He glanced toward the forest.
"We're still a few days from town. We'll leave early."
With that, he turned and walked back toward Varric.
Bennan gave Tess a quick nod before returning to his spot near the fire and lying down.
The fatigue from the fight — and from the strange, fragmented days before it finally caught up to him.
Sleep took him almost immediately.