The Impossible Machine

Time

Cecelia's POV

Hours ticked by as they walked under the scorching sun.

They had lived under a haze of darkness, and it was difficult to adjust to the increase in temperature and light.

Cecelia had woken up curled up in the grass next to Oliver, causing her to flush and pull away. He moaned softly and pulled his arms to his chest, still snoring gently.

His face was calm, as if he had no worries in the world. Cecelia smiled slightly, brushing a bit of dark hair off his forehead. She squeaked and pulled her hand back, her face to turn three shades of red at once.

Oliver's eyelids fluttered opened, as he blinked into the sunlight. He put his forearm over his eyes to shield himself from the blinding light.

"Is it always this bright?" He groaned, turning to Cecelia. He blinked at her a few times, oblivious.

"Are you alright? You look awfully red. Do you think you're falling ill?" He worried, his eyebrows scrunching up.

Well she sure was falling, but not ill. Cecelia shook her head, embarrassed.

"No, I'm alright. Would you like to start our journey?" She said quickly, eager to change the topic.

"I'm ready," he stretched, making a soft groaning noise.

She stood up, running her hand through her hair. Observing her surroundings, she found a small city nearby. Maybe four or five miles away.

She glanced at Oliver, watching as his eyes land on the same city.

"There. I don't think it's the middle city, but it's a good place to stay for a bit." She noted, sighing.

"Yeah, let's go."

They walked along a worn trail left by merchants, kicking up this brown dust as they walked.

Everywhere they looked, there was something new and interesting they haven't seen before.

Some Cecelia was able to identify, such as trees, dandelions, flowers, boulders, vines, and other assorted plants.

Oliver seemed entranced whenever she taught him something new.

Her mothers silly stories had paid off in the end.

Most of the things they found were foreign to them, unlike anything they had seen before.

The only animals they had were cats and dogs, and most were strays. They had the occasional flying animal, but in a second it would be shot down by animal control.

Here and there Oliver and Cecelia would find one of those flying creatures, soaring high above. They seemed free, content.

The birds felt like Cecelia. She was free from the pressures of her family and society, left to make her own choices for once.

She smiled at the thought, looking up at the blue sky.

The sky had never been so colorful. The city she grew up in was always below thick haze, a sleepy blanket masking the city. It always looked like something bad would happen.

But here, the sky was blue and cloudless, the air fresh and the flowers perfume swirling around them.

It was almost too much for Cecelia. It was hard to adjust to home cast their world was. Initially it was hard for her eyes to get accustomed to the bright sunlight, but after a while she got used to it, enjoying the light much more than being stuck in the dark all day.

It was incredible, all of it.

The only bad thing was her skin. Cecelia was-and everyone was in her city- pale as a sheet. For some reason, her skin got red and burned after they started walking for about an hour, leaving an awful burn on her face.

"Cecelia, we have about ten minutes until we get there. It looks about that." Oliver grinned at her.

She was lucky. She was lucky she got to make the biggest decision of her life with her best friend at her side. Every time he smiled, it reminded her of how lucky she was that she didn't have to go through alone.

Another ten minutes passed, as they slowly approached a city gate, much like their own. Theirs were more elegant though, the metal like vines and flowers wrapped together to keep the city in.

A tall man in a uniform stood strong in front of the gate, a spear in one hand.

"Who goes there?" He called, squinting his eyes to see them.

"We come seeking refuge. We are Oliver Weller Kemp and Cecelia Curnow Langstaff." Oliver called back, waving.

"I must inspect your baggage for weaponry," he said firmly, holding his hand out for their bags.

Cecelia nodded and handed over her bag as he rummaged through.

Oliver followed, hesitating slightly. Cecelia knew all his tools that were not thrown at the police man were in there, and they meant a lot to him.

"You're free to enter. Welcome to Riverwood."

They nodded, and slowly walked through the gates.