A roosters crow wakes me up from what felt like an eternal slumber. I inhale and exhale, allowing my first thought of the day to rush into existence. Roosters, native to the planet commonly referred to as Earth. A roosters crow is typically associated with the start of a new day, most common in the 20th and 21st centuries. Within moments I realize that today is the day my father is to take me fishing Earth 1972. Apparently this was the prime time for fishing at my fathers favorite "fishing hole" as the locals from the time period call it.
"Ready to go?" my father calls towards my sleeping chambers where I am hastily preparing for the adventure that lies before me.
"I shall be with you momentarily," I cry back as I slip on the last outer garment necessary to fish at our current location.
"So how does it feel to be seven?"
"Today feels as if it were any other day. The spherical mass beneath me still rotates at a constant rate while being propelled through space around an even larger spherical mass."
"I realise that you have been reading every science magazine from every corner of the universe that you can get your hands on, but that doesn't mean you have to talk like an encyclopedia."
"I will take you advice into consideration and return to you with a conclusion shortly."
"You can wait to do your calculations until after we are done with our trip."
"As you wish father."
"Well, shall we begin? Now this is how you prepare the line so..." for several minutes this is the extent of the conversation between my father and I. Before I know it, the lines are cast into the water, and we relax as we wait for the prey to fall for the bait. "Alright Doctor..."
"Pardon me father, when did I receive my doctorate?" I ask, interrupting him mid thought.
"Well I thought since you prefer to speak as if you had the universes highest degree that Doctor would be an appropriate nickname. Do you not like it?"
"Quite the contrary. Compared to your other attempts at assigning me a nickname this is quite adequate. Since you insist on referring to me as anything other than my name I believe that Doctor is the most pleasing of them all. Yes I would much rather be called Doctor instead of 'champ' or 'sport' or any other sports related jargon for that matter."
"Doctor it is. Ok, time to get serious. Do you understand what is going to happen on your eighth birthday?"
"Yes, I will begin my studies at the Gallifreyan Academy of Time after gazing into a section of the rift."
"Yes. Now I just wonder if you truly understand what it means to be a Timelord."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you have lived a sheltered life at the house and have not really been exposed to any part of our culture. Beyond the adventures we take in the TARDIS, you know nothing outside the house."
"Why does that mean I know nothing of the true nature of being a Timelord?" my temperature rises by the second. How am I supposed to respond to such a comment about my intelligence.
"Now just calm down before you explode. Your mother and I intentionally kept you in the dark."
"Why?"
"It is the responsibility of every Timelord to teach their children the importance and fragility of life before they can be accepted into the academy."
"I am afraid I do not understand what you are trying to get across to me at father."
"Alright...what I have to say I would prefer be said without interruption. Do we have a deal?"
Conflicting thoughts race through my head as I try to evaluate the situation with the provided information. I knew whatever my father had to say to me had to be important so as to bring him to this uncivilized state. His face emanates a red uncommon to that of a normal visage. His sweaty hands continually rub the back of his neck in a nervous and errotic manner. All I know is the desire to discover what has him so agitated. I answer him with a concise nod for fear that my words would betray me.
"Where shall I begin? Are you familiar with the one life scenario typical among life?" To respect my fathers wishes to not be interrupted I simply nod as before. "Ok...thats good...I suppose I can start from the beginning. You are familiar with how our race began traveling through time?" again I nod. "Good...centuries after our people began our observations of the universe we began to notice a...change. Our ancestors discovered that we had more than one life to live. In fact...we have 13.
"Now shortly after this discovery was made some of our ancestors became...how should I say...reckless. They would rush into a situation without regard to any dangers at all. Before anyone could realise how dangerous they were being they all used up their last life...regenerations as they are now called. After the council members realised the severity of the senseless deaths that took place every hour they decided that before anyone could become a full blown citizen of Gallifrey each of us would have to understand that we can't waste even one of our lives...that each one has to count for something. What are your thoughts?"
Of course I found this sudden overload of information to be quite ludicrous. But then again my father is not one to joke about such manners. Until I can come to a decisive conclusion on the matter I must allow my father to think I believe every word he said without a question. "I find this information difficult to swallow. Why have you procrastinated so long in divulging this truth to me?"
"Your mother and I felt it would be better for you to understand that life is precious before we told you. It wasn't until after we saw that you were clearly devastated at the death of that bird last week that we truly felt you were ready to bear the truth. You understand, right?"
"I suppose I do in fact understand. Perhaps we can return home before we had initially planned, I am no longer in the mood to fish."
"Sure thing Doctor. I'm positive your mother is anxious to discover how our discussion went."
The journey home took but an instant, and yet it still felt like I would never find home again. Whether my father spoke truthfully or not won't make me feel any less like my whole world changed before I could even reel in my fishing line. Once I step into my family's dwelling a sudden wave of feeling came over me as if I have always known this place and yet I am a stranger here at the same time.
The next year flies by in instantaneously. I met Genghis Khan and 57th president of the United States. I surfed through the stars and tested out the inventions of Leonardo Da Vinci. I should feel ecstatic at having partaken in such extraordinarily rare events that so very few have a chance to experience, but I am not. It almost feels like the talk my father had with me what seems like an eternity ago seems to have changed the flavor of the adventures I used to treasure so closely. It feels as if my life before a year ago was nothing but I lie. Yet despite my greatest efforts I have not come to a conclusion on whether or not my father had been truthful. The only way to prove or disprove Timelord "regenerations" seems to either witness or experience one for myself. Unfortunately it appears that my experiment will never be able to take place since the only other Timelords I know besides myself are my parents. I therefore do not feel comfortable taking the life of any party in case my father proves wrong.
"May I come in?" my father asks beyond the exterior of my room. His timing seems to be unmatched considering he always seems to barge in when I am deepest in thought.
"Your entrance is permitted."
"I just wanted to make sure that you are ready for the ceremony tonight."
"Yes, my meager possessions are prepared to depart with me upon the conclusion of the ceremony."
"Good. Alright Doctor there is just one more thing I want you to know."
"What would that be?"
"The reason why we never use you name assigned at your birth."
"Prithee waste not another moment," the sarcasm drips freely from my lips. I am just not quite certain what impact the words that follows will have on me.
"There is power in names. For someone to know your name gives them power rarely heard of. Tonight you will have to pick what you will be called...it's kind of a safeguard to make sure the wrong person doesn't discover your true name. Pick wisely for the name you pick will both follow you and lead you around the universe and time itself for the rest of your life."
"I will take your words with me."
"Good. Now lets get on our way."
The walk to the rift was one of exquisite beauty compared to that of the other worlds I have visited. The silver leaves dance through the wind engulfing me in a whirlwind of magnificent wonder. The beautiful red grass blown by the wind looks as if the hills themselves are in motion. Upon entering the Capitol a wave sent rushes upon me, a strange mixture of freshly polished benches and the delectable scent of freshly picked Schlenk Blossom. So caught up in the glorious wonder of it all I barely notice that we have reached our destination.
As I take my seat I realize that many have yet to arrive. I begin to take into consideration what my father said about picking a name. My father has been calling me Doctor for over a year now and I have grown accustomed to being addressed as such. I gaze towards the traditional insignia of Gallifrey. My mind wanders as I lose myself in the seemingly endless twist and turns. Doctors are a universal symbol of helpfulness and healing, a beacon of hope...
"Are you well?" my new neighbor seems genuinely concerned about my health. He has long dark hair and a curiously serious visage. I must investigate.
"Yes I am quite well. I was considering the mantle I should take tonight."
"Mantel?" the strangers face twisted into a look of pure confusion.
"A mantle is an important role or responsibility. If my father is correct in the importance of my chosen name I will be taking on quite the responsibility and therefore must choose wisely."
"Oh. I haven't really put much thought into my name. I think that when the time comes there shall be no doubt in my mind, so why bother fussing over it."
"Well to each his own," a brief moment of silence sweeps over us as two giggling girls enter the courtyard and take their seats.
"So...what have you been doing over the past eight years?" my new companion seems fascinated with me, but I can hardly gather a reason. I am just a simple brown haired boy, confused of the environment in which he lives.
"Traveling mostly."
"Traveling where? Do you mean through..." he pauses slightly to what I assume is meant to ensure no one is eavesdropping on the conversation. "space and time?" those last words can barely be considered audible. He whispered in such a way that only the intended recipient would be able to pick up the words if he strained to grasp any faint hint of a noise.
"Why yes of course. Haven't you?"
"My father says it is too dangerous for an inexperienced youth such as myself to go on such adventures."
"How then have you learned of the important impact of even a drop of rain?"
"My father says it is best to learn through books before actions."
"I have actually discovered through my personal travels that one can sometimes only learn through experience."
"I wish my father felt that way," a depressed look settled upon his face. Before I could interject with a new topic of conversation a tone rang out from what seemed like everywhere. It was as if every molecule in the entire universe sang the note in unison.
"Welcome future Timelords and Timeladys. Before we begin join me as we recite the pledge written into our every actions by our ancestors:
We pledge to walk in the shadows
to only watch and observe
if we hang at the gallows
our duty we shall conserve
never change the past
or the future will be upset
never harm shall we cast
or with pain will we be beset
forever we walk in the shadows
Now we shall begin with the first row and work our way to the last. As you come up state your chosen name and step past the guards. There you will be initiated. Will the first row now rise."
A few rows separated my row from the first. I have plenty of time to fully assess the task set before me. Unfortunately it seems before I can even brace myself my row is called.
"Name?" a gruly man asks.
"Um...um... the Counselor?" with the feeble manner of which she spoke it was more like she was asking what her name is.
"Next. Name?"
"The Razor!" he exuded confidence coupled with unbridled rage. This in turn begged a questioning look from the stenographer.
"Next. Name?"
"The Librarian," her gentle voice calmed my nerves. Her beauty is incomparable to any sight I had seen in my travels. I had never before experienced such a sudden rush of pure peace. I know now I am ready to face what lies before me with confidence.
"Next. Name?"
"The Doctor," yes I am more sure of this than ever before. I pause long enough to hear my friend boldly exclaim his chosen name.
"The Master," he said it with such ease. Before I could speak with him I rush back to my place only to be face to face with the rift.
