It is said that only in sleep do living beings taste true freedom. In their waking lives, a person is restricted by so many things. Sleep is the only escape from the monotony of routines into which every person will inevitably fall. The rules and restrictions that life sets on the living, no matter what laws or beliefs are adhered to, entrap the soul within the rigours of existence. It is only in dreams that escape is really possible. The dark of night blocks out the hustle and bustle of the light and allows the mind to fall into deepest slumber. Once blissful sleep is achieved wilful imagination, hitherto bound and gagged by the strictures of the day, is set free. No ties to hold it down, the dreams of the night fuel the hopes of the day. Beyond the locked door, which the waking mind keeps shut at all light times, the mind runs amok. Dreams fly through a thousand marvels, a million wonders and are blessed by awe. In sleep, the mind is truly free. But no dream ever stops on its way beyond the mind, to consider what creeps into its place. It can take moments, it can take years, the only certainty is that by the time the person has realised what they have let in, it is usually too late.
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On the continent of Wild Endeavour stands the proudest symbol of Gallifreyan society. The lure of the Time Lord Academy and the Capitol drifts in the wind across the barren deserts of the great wilderness. Calling out for the great and the good to wander across the wastelands and enrich the world they were born into. The great river Lethe charges through the deserts, sweetening the midnight air, bringing breath to a lifeless land. The red grass plains of the farming sectors are drenched in dew from the night air, shimmering under the light of one of Gallifrey's only natural satellites; Pazithi Gallifreya. The soft gleam shone brightly down as the planet was drawn into succulent slumber.
Even further out, beyond the reaches of the Capitol, sat a lonely barn battered by the night winds that rolled across the desert plains. In the barn lay a small boy in a bed, trying to dispel the horrors of the day from his restless mind. After the accident, he and his friend had fled the banks of the Lethe, vowing never to visit the place ever again. On the run back to Lungbarrow, the boys had constructed their alibis in case their wicked deed was ever discovered. The excuses they had made, the reasons that had been conjured for their actions muddled the mind. No one could ever know what had occurred on the banks of the river Lethe. The mere act placed a shadow over both the boys. Their futures were at risk if anyone every found out.
On reaching Lungbarrow, they washed, dispelling the stench of guilt and death from their still trembling hands. After they had cleaned up, both boys decided to get away from the area and remain in that state for as long as appeared normal. One fled to the east, to his father's estate with his cousins while the other travelled alone to the sanctuary; a dwelling as isolated as it was possible to be on Gallifrey. The house and the barn were so far out from anywhere, it was the ideal place in which to distance yourself from all that could threaten the unknown into revealing the truth. The people at the sanctuary would take care of him until the whole incident had been washed away into the past. The Keeper's wife had made up a room in the main house, but when the Keeper went to check on the boy later that night, he found that the covers had not been disturbed and the candle on the bedside table had not been lit.
The boy had taken refuge in the barn, a place he liked to sleep in when he had nightmares, in fear that he would call out in the night and wake the other boys in the rooms next to his own. The barn was a little cold, the gusting wind whispering over the thin blanket which he had attempted to wrap around his quivering body. Whether that was to do with the cold or the fear that pulsed through every vein, the boy could not be certain. The harrowing grief wracked his thoughts and left him unable to shy away from the responsibility of his actions that day. His best plan was to hide from the inevitable revelation. A sack cover was the best he could muster at the moment, but maybe in time the threat would lessen and he could be free once more.
Even the mystical freedom of sleep was illusive. Unable to tear himself from the horrors of the day, the little boy began to cry. At first he tried to hold the pitiful weeping back, but it refused to remain within his young body and escaped in short fearful whimpers. The cold and the darkness ensnared him in the night of torturous thought. This night, sleep would not bring freedom but would mock him, watching as regret made his entire body ache.
A snap dragged the boy from his melancholy. He didn't know whether it came from the barn or he had imagined it. Then it came again. An unexpected comforting warmth coursed around his body. He felt like he was floating out of his bed and away from the barn so that he hovered in the night sky like a star. He could still feel the straw that he lay on and the blanket that covered him, but he felt completely weightless, as if suddenly, the burden had been removed. He could sense a presence joining him as he floated above the world. He thought it was a woman. Her steps were light, almost so much he couldn't hear them. If it was a woman, it had to be the Keeper's wife, a lady who had shown the young boy much care and motherly affection over the years that he would stray to the sanctuary to escape the turbulent atmosphere at Lungbarrow. The boy went to push himself into a sitting position but suddenly felt a cold hand slip under the blanket and grab his shoulder. The pain sent him into shock and he gasped, forcing his stuttering crying into heavy breathing.
'Do not move. Do not open your eyes.' Muttered the voice. Definitely female. He didn't know whether it was a person speaking or one of those tricks you learnt as a Time Lord, a psychic link, but he could hear it in his mind. It infected his dreams. The warmth that surrounded him fluctuated with every word. 'You are not to blame.'
Blame for what? The boy thought nervously. How did the voice know? Was it his conscience or was it an enforcer? They'd found his friend, used the mind probe on him and now it was his turn to suffer the consequences.
'You did not mean to kill Torvic. You were frightened for your friend and you acted accordingly.' The voice whispered.
'He…he…was drowning. Torvic…he…he wasn't going to stop. I had…had to…to do something!' The small boy replied, even though he wasn't certain whether this was a conversation he deserved to be a part of. One thing he did know was that they had been found out. They were going to be found guilty and then who knows what happened? No one ever found out what happened to criminals. They just disappeared.
'Rightly, you should be punished. Give what is owed. A life for a life.' The voice stated. The boy knew it. He was going to die. The Keeper or his wife would check on him in the morning and find a hollow shell. In the grand scheme of things, it seemed only fair. 'One day, Death takes us all, but today is not your day. Your fate has been decided. The universe must be kept in balance. As a consequence of your actions, a life of servitude is owed. Tonight, I give you a choice. You or him? Live with the guilt and torment until you willingly give in to Death or give your closest friend as payment.'
'Take him.' The answer slipped from him. He didn't even think. He just replied. He wanted to say 'No take me instead!' But the cold had on his shoulder had gone. The boy peaked over the top of the covers, only to duck back quickly unless the being should return. What had he done? What had he condemned his friend to? He slept restlessly until a harsh thrumming filled his ears. What else? What now? What else could it be that comes to drag me from waking hell?
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Thank you for reading. Written as a prequel to the barn scene in 'Listen'. Inspired by the audio adventure 'Master'.
xxx