Homesick
"She's not from here or there," Cole said, pale eyes unfocused. "She came from in-between… or maybe upside down. Things from nowhere end up somewhere. Where did 11 go?"
Sister Leliana stared where the spirit boy had been less than a second ago. Why she had expected anything other than mysteries and riddles, she couldn't say. With a shake of her head, the spymaster turned and climbed back down the stairs to the heart of the tavern.
Varric was sitting with the Chargers. The girl was serving them. "So, Cherry—that's you—I hear you can do a neat trick…"
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Chamber pots were a disgusting but necessary evil. The miracle known as the toilet had yet to be introduced. She had been aware of this on some deep level. Knowing about something, however, was very different from experiencing it. Cherry did not care at all for the experience of pissing into a smelly bowl. She cared even less for the idea of some poor chamber maid scrubbing away at stubborn shit stains.
Twice a day, she cleaned out her own pot. If the only other person she noticed doing that was Sera… well, at least she was in good company.
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Oh, how much time her cell phone had eaten! Hands, always hanging awkward and empty, itched for something to do. She fidgeted like a crack whore craving another fix. What on earth had people done before the World Wide Web?
The lack of a cell phone wasn't a serious bother until Cabot first left her alone behind the bar. Cherry stared down at the ledger as her stomach sank into her boots. Although Josephine had not yet taught her to read, it seemed numbers still looked the same. Unfortunately, mental math wasn't her strong suit… and there was no calculator.
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Loneliness settled in faster than the girl noticed. When she wasn't working a shift at the tavern, she was eating or sleeping. All of her wages, meager as they were, went to necessities and booze.
Master Dennet woke her once and said, "If I find you passed out in the hay again, you'd bloody well better get up and help feed the horses." Gruff but kind, the old man sent her away with a fresh canteen of water.
She ran from the barn with red, tear-streaked cheeks. Of all the things she pined for, Cherry missed her horse the most.
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Towers of glass set aflame during sunsets. Metallic contraptions whizzing down smooth, paved roads at dizzying speeds. A flattened box with portraits that moved, a window to events playing out elsewhere.
Solas watched the girl's dreams and saw faint echoes of home.
Cherry was a human. Not a mage or a spirit or a demon. Just a human. Nevertheless, her dreams transformed the Fade in ways most people could never begin to imagine. Watching the scenery shift and change left him with more questions than answers.
Spirits rejoiced against her sleeping mind. Demons prowled ever closer.
He would observe further.
2016.23.09: Writing this story is progressing faster than planned. Although one update every three days is still the goal, don't be surprised if there are daily updates.