A lonely Time Lord boy sits in a large room. Specifically, a large chamber in the Time Lord Academy in the Citadel on the great planet of Gallifrey. This boy is eight years old and so are all of the other children sitting around him. So very young. Today, he and all of the children around him are here to see if they are worthy of education at the great Academy.
This particular Time Lord boy sits by his best mate, who looks very pale and frightened, but he dare not speak. The boy takes his little friend's hand in his own sweaty palm, reassuring him. One by one names are called: names of the Time Lord children. Upon being called, the children are taken into a room and forced to gaze upon the Untempered Schism, a gap in the fabric of reality, allowing them to behold all of the beauty and terror of time and space. Some are inspired by what they see. Others, however, run away or even go mad from what they see.
A name is soon called. The name is that of the boy's little mate. His face is filled with terror. On shaking legs he rises and goes forth to the tall doors where an older Time Lord awaits to lead him into the room where the Schism is kept. He takes one last look at his friend before disappearing through the doorway.
The Time Lord boy now sits alone. And alone he waits. A chill creeps up his spine as at long last he hears a name: one he recognises as his own. Steadying his trembling legs, he rises with all the confidence he can muster in his tiny body. He can feel the eyes of all of his peers on him as he walks past, and he wants to give them a fearless image. He makes his way to the tall doors where the big Time Lord ushers him in.
The doors shut with a deafening clang. The boy's eyes take a moment to adjust to the darker setting, but they soon focus on a large spherical object covered by a cloth in the centre of the room. Several Time Lord officials wearing big, red hats and robes stand near it. His eyes rest upon a certain man. The man stares at him with cold disapproval.
"Hello, father," the boy whispers.
His father simply stares in return. The boy wishes so badly to impress his father.
The boy feels cold hands grasp his shoulders. He shudders and looks behind him to see the man from the door standing behind him. The man leads him forward until he stands on a circular plate on the floor. The boy recognises it as the Seal of Rassilon. Being the son of a High Council member, he knows it well.
A tall, important looking Time Lord steps around the spherical object and smiles. It makes him look like he's in pain. The boy starts as he realises that this isn't any man, he is Rassilon himself! Rassilon clears his throat and asks in a soft but cut-glass voice, "Are you ready?"
The boy nods enthusiastically.
Rassilon grabs the fabric covering the sphere and pulls on it. The dark room is filled with light from the Untempered Schism. The boy's jaw drops as light fills his eyes. At first, what he sees amazes him. It's so beautiful... but it is also so terrible. Power, simply raw power is emanating from this circle of light. The boy sees that all of this, time and space, all this power can be his. But he also sees the horror it can cause. He sees death and destruction. Past, present and future all swarm before his eyes and he sees so much death... and all of it his fault. His head is pounding now, all of the beauty and rage and fury of the vortex is pouring into his mind.
He hears a voice cry, "Stop!" He doesn't even realise it is himself calling for it to stop. He wants to look away, but he feels his feet are glued to the seal below him.
Thankfully, the light shuts off as the cloth is thrown back over the Schism. The boy stumbles backwards and falls to his knees, panting. For a moment he sits there, eyes wide and breathing heavy. His father stares at him, eyes ablaze as if demanding answers. What did you see?
The boy opens his mouth and closes it again. He scrambles to his feet quickly and clambers across the cold stone floor until reaching the doors from whence he entered. He yanks them open and runs blindly until he finds that he is outside. The dual suns glare down at him. He continues to run until he realises where his feet are taking him. Home.
He runs up a paved pathway towards a familiar door on a big house. The boy tromps all the way up the stairs and into his own room, where he throws himself on the bed. He covers himself in the thick blankets. Perhaps he will be safe here.
He spends several minutes in solitude until he hears the creak of a door and footsteps. He peeks his head out to see a comforting sight. A woman with flowing red hair and sparkling green eyes stands before him. His very own mummy.
She perches on the edge of his bed and opens her arms. He launches into them. There's something about a mother's touch that just warms you like nothing else. Cradled in her arms, the boy begins to sob. His mother rocks him and whispers to him, "There, there, mummy has you,"
The little boy looks up at his mother. She's so beautiful, he thinks to himself. He's seen pictures of her from before he was born. She had blonde hair then, but even so, Time Lords can always tell.
He thinks about how his mother always makes him happy when he's sad. And how she makes him feel better when he is ill.
"Mummy," he says.
"Yes love?" she asks.
"I know who I want to be when I grow up," he tells her.
"Oh, and what's that now?"
The boy grins. "I want to be the Doctor," he says.
His mother looks at him, surprised at how soon her son has chosen his name. Then she chuckles softly. "That's a wonderful name, my little Doctor."