Once upon a time there was an old man, who was a young man, who lived on the most ancient world in the universe.
They called it the Shining World of the Seven Systems. And on the continent of Wild Endeavour, in the mountains of Solace and Solitude, there stood the Citadel of the Time Lords. Here he was born, under orange skies and twin suns which shone down onto red grass lands and snowy mountains. Here he grew, amongst dry academics who would watch, with mild interest, as other civilisations and species rose and fell. Here he lived and learned amongst the great libraries, dusty achieves and the ancient halls of learning.
At first he gazed across time and space in wonder and marvelled at the life that had, did and would exist and he yearned to reach out and touch it, to walk on alien worlds to talk, to touch, to see, to hear, to experience the Universe, to learn. But he did not, for it was forbidden. The Elders had decreed that there would be no interference, only observation. No objections would be tolerated, especially from upstart young men with not yet two centuries of experience.
So the young man kept his own counsel and obeyed the edicts of the Ancients and observed from afar. He watched the universe from the safety of his world which lay outside of time. He watched as civilisations fell, he watched as stars died, he watched as armies laid waste to all in their path, he watched as beautiful cities collapsed, amazing worlds fell into ruin and fantastical species were lost to the ravages of time. He watched and he kept notes.
He watched and recorded until his body grew old and weary. He watched until one day he realised that he had lost his wonder at the stars. He had grown tired of watching the universe from afar.
Feeling lost, he took to wandering in the deep and seldom used areas of the citadel, immersing himself in the relics of his own civilisation. His wanderings continued until one day he happened to come across an old travelling capsule sitting abandoned in the back of a dusty room. At first he assumed that it was simply another broken, abandoned relic, but when he approached it, he realise that it was still alive. The doors were unlocked for some reason, so he entered the craft, marvelling at the ancient technology.
A thought occurred to him as he wandered the ship's halls. It was a thought that would not die, and it nagged at as he made his way back to his living quarters. It rolled around his head that night as he tried to sleep and for days after it crept around the back of his mind.
A terrible yearning had entered his soul, one he had not felt since he was younger. It grew and grew until he couldn't stand it any more. Finally, one night he sat and considered his position and what his future might hold until a decision placed itself firmly in his hearts.
He returned to the ancient halls one final time to find the old dusty travelling box. The doors closed behind him and the room was filled with a wheezing, groaning noise as dust flew around. Finally the noise faded and the dust settled into silence.
Once upon a time there was an old man, who was a young man, who ran away to see the Universe.