The wind whistled through the forest as the chanting started, four figures in robes, their hoods covering there faces, chanted in a language and dialect not heard for centuries. The wind grew more powerful as their voices become louder, the burnt orange leaves dancing around them. Slowly the figures rose up and began to walk through the forest, the wind seeming to change direction and follow them. As they approached the end of the trees, a collection of flowing leaves and foliage surrounded the figures; but then came a wheezing noise, not from the wind but from ahead of those gathered. They stopped their chanting, causing the leaves and foliage to fall to the ground as in front of them something began to materialise.
There, in front of them where there had just been an open field, now stood the shape of a 1960's blue earth police telephone box. The four hooded figures approached this unknown and mysterious box; as they did, from inside came the muffled sound of music. To any earthling they would have recognised the tune immediately, but for these people, strangers to Earth and her history, they could only stand confused.
Suddenly the doors were flung open and blasting out came the song of "Johnny B. Goode"; followed by a man. His hair in a pompadour style, sporting a white t-shirt with a plaid shirt over the top and a black leather jacket adorned with patches, jeans, motorcycle boots and thick framed sunglasses covering his eyes. As soon as he came out of the peculiar blue box he grabbed the nearest figure and proceeded to dance with her. The figure pulled away with disgust slapped him hard across his face causing his sunglasses to fall to the floor and the hood falling to reveal themselves to be a female.
"Whoa cool it down there Daddy-o" – The man shouted out pulling himself back to his upright position, picking up his sunglasses and cleaning the dirt from them.
"Just who the hell do you think you are?" – The women looked at the man sternly and unnervingly as she said this, an air of authority and superiority about her.
"Introductions, excellent, I am The Doctor, Time traveller, dancer and a party animal." spoke the Doctor, bowing slightly to the lady in front of her.
"What brings you to Aeon Doctor, and right in the middle of the ceremony of the Seasons?" questioned the woman.
"Aeon, never heard of it, and that's not something I can say everyday. Ceremony of seasons sounds cool to me. What is it exactly?" Something he had never heard, that was rare indeed.
"It is the celebration of that which brings life, the forces of nature." She answered him.
The Doctor then notices the forest behind him and slowly removes his glasses, deciding to tun up towards the trees.
"No it's can't be, can it?" he exasperated.
From a pocket inside his leather jacket he removes his sonic screwdriver and waves it over some leaves and the bark of the tree. He looks at the side of the device and the shakes his head. "Hmm...wood" He removes a leaf, pressing it to his nose, sniffing it before putting his ear close to the bark. The figures look on in confusion at his actions. "But that's impossible, it's can't be true. How can they be here?" He speaks in hushed tones.
The Doctor, becoming frenzied, runs his hands through his hair, then in a flash runs back into his blue box the doors slamming behind him. The people stand, puzzled, another then removes her hood, she is young, barely in her teens.
"Excuse me Sister Othalla did he say Time Traveller?"
Othalla the woman that the Doctor had danced with, turned to stare at the teenage girl.
"I believe he did. He couldn't be, could he?"
Another of the people removed their hood, this time it was a man, sporting a beard and fierce eyes.
"Could he be one of those neo-technologists? Did they manage it?"
Othalla crossed her arms in thought, not answering the man; she jumped, startled when the doors burst open and the Doctor stood in front her, this time his demeanour and body language were completely different.
"Explain, what are you? Who are you?"
The young girl then points at The Doctors leather jacket.
"Sister, he wears the seal of the usurper."
The Doctor stops and looks down at the patch on his jacket, it is of the Seal of Rassilon, the seal of The Time Lords.
"You are, it can't be, it's impossible, you are Gallifreyans." The Doctor looks at the people in front of him, clear surprise and shock on his face. Othalla steps up to him, clearly angry.
"We are no longer Gallifreyan's, we seceded from the Empire when Rassilion betrayed the Pythia and outlawed the churches. We are now the People of Aeon." Othalla said.
"That's impossible the colonies where lost centuries ago. You can't be here."
The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver again and waved it over Othalla.
"Binary Pulminary system, the ability to regenerate, triple helix DNA. That's impossible, you are Gallifreyans." The Doctor was shocked, unable to comprehend such a thing.
"We are Aeons; we have found the balance between that of Technology and mysticism. We are not bound by the Laws of Gallifrey anymore." Othalla never took her eyes away from the frantic man in front of her.
Very sharply the Doctor stopped and looked deep into Othalla's eyes; she took a step back, for the first time she was actually feeling intimidated by this man. Othalla was even more surprised and taken aback when he suddenly hugged her. Not knowing how to react with this strange man holding her tightly.
"Doctor, release me from your grip if you please." Othalla gasped.
"Sorry it's just, it's been such a long time, but something is still not making sense here. Do you have a library, or a place that records your history? Can I see it please?" He asked.
Othalla hesitated, watching the Doctor closely. "Very well Doctor, follow me. Please Brothers and Sister, continue the ceremony without me."
Shaking her head, she headed towards a city in the distance; The Doctor quickly closed the TARDIS Doors and headed off to follow her.