posted on Sep, 14 2013 @ 10:27 PM
The next day found Oaken able to stand, and he took a few steps to gather his bow and quiver. Olivia was still sleeping on her own bedroll on the
other side of the cave, so he decided to gather some fresh meat to grill for breakfast. A small hare fell quickly under an arrow, and he walked back
to the camp and dressed the rabbit after starting a fire. His side was still sore, but he had a beat in his heart, and the slight pain he now felt
was nothing compared to the joy he had when in the company of Olivia. She was a mystery, he thought, and he resolved to do everything within his
power to see her back to her homeland, no matter how far away. He had no family now, after the goblinkind had invaded his own homeland, Riverdale far
to the west, and he had been adopted at the age of six by another family and they had all moved far into the Wildlands. Their camp was several miles
to the south, and he had been glad of the result of his happenstance meeting.
Olivia awoke to the smell of something delicious. She rubbed her eyes, thinking she had a horrible dream, and then startled when she realized where
she was at. Curiously, she got up and went outside, and saw Oaken cooking over the fire. Her stomach rumbled, as she had been rationing her MREs and
was hungry for real food. The meat sizzling on the spit made her mouth water.
Oaken heard her get up, and didn’t turn around as she approached, very much aware of her walking closer. She sat on the log beside Oaken. He
looked at her and smiled. It was a warm and sincere smile, something she wasn’t used, as where she had come from was a twisted dichotomy of lies
and manipulations, a hard world in which fact and fiction often blended into the whims of those in charge. From there, she was just a pawn in a
twisted game played in a world gone awry. She decided, sensing his sincerity, to tell him the truth.
“You know, Oaken, I’m not a sorceress,” she said between mouthfuls of savory meat. “They don’t have magic where I come from.”
He looked at her. “You jest, surely.” She shook her head.
His gaze met hers once more, the third time as such, and without speaking they felt a spark ignite. It was a simple emotion, pure and unrestrained,
one in which the truth needn’t be spoken, just understood. After a long silence, while they finished their meal, Olivia spoke again. While
thinking about what to tell him, she felt long repressed emotions float to the surface, and it was with tears almost cresting her eyes she continued.
“My land is corrupt. My whole world is.”
“Surely your world is the same as my own. We are here, together, yet I see not the corruption you speak of.”
She sighed heavily, biting back emotions, her very soul on the brink of flowing out.
“Do you know the year?” Olivia waited while he sorted out that question.
“It’s twenty-five seasons since my birth. The Elders at camp speak of the years since the great cataclysms, so it’d be three thousand and
Olivia’s tears brimmed. Oaken was aware of her distress, so he leaned over, the only thing he knew to do, and let her bury her head in his shoulder
while she sobbed uncontrollably. Minutes passed as Olivia let a lifetime of pain out. He stroked her hair softly.
She looked up finally, her hands drying her face.
“I was born before the cataclysms.”
“That cannot be true. You are barely a year older than I. Explain while I listen, Olivia.” He held her hands within his own, his eyes
imploring, his honesty shining clearly, and she started speaking.
“I was born before the cataclysms, Oaken, in a time long ago when mankind lost it’s humanity. We had what you call magic back then, but we called
it technology. We misused the technology, and we destroyed the planet. We caused the cataclysms. In mankind’s rush for power, we used up
resources, and polluted the environment. Our only salvation was to use the technology we had thought we mastered, and we created devices to unravel
the very fabric of time itself, and we sent agents out to seek out other times that we could exploit. We used up the past, and that done, we turned
our eyes to the future.”
“Then you, you are....”
“What will you do?”
“In my own time there is no kindness. There are only greedy corporations, and slaves. I am one of them, and have been my whole life. I have no
freedom, because there is no freedom. We cannot afford friends, and cannot believe in trust.”
She leaned forward and kissed him. He met her lips with his own, and their passion flared, overwhelming them. They both lost time in each other’s
embrace, and finally, both spent, they returned to the present, softly nuzzling and kissing in front of a fire nearly out. The afternoon sun caressed
them with it’s warmth.
Eventually Olivia got up, and walked back into the cave. She returned a few moments later with a oblong shaped device, slightly bigger than her palm.
She placed it down on a rock that circled the fire, and picked up another one. She looked at Oaken, who was watching solemnly.
Smiling, she lifted the rock in her hand above her head, and brought it down upon the device, smashing it to bits.