The forgotten planet was no longer forgotten, or gone.
It was real again. As real as the cold wind which was blowing in their faces.
The youngest of the two boys sitting on the large memorial stone could not help but touch the hollow letters of the carved words in the stone, stroking them with his skinny long fingers, as if he were reading them by touch.
They sat so casually on the stone it would seem disrespectful, but it was in fact quite the opposite, for these boys almost worshipped the wisdom of the stone's creator.
Rassilon.
As the youngest boy's mind slowly drifted away, the eldest boy noticed what he was doing and subtly nudged him in his back.
''Stop doing that.'' he spoke annoyed.
The other boy merely smiled.
''Why?'' he asked.
''It is annoying.'' the other replied.
More boys of their age lingered around the courtyard of stone, dressed in the same black robes all students were required to wear within the Academy's compound which they were never allowed to leave.
As the golden, orange sky above them darkened, transforming slowly into a beautiful night, the torches which stood in every corner of the courtyard were lit. It's small flames lit up the dark blue courtyard in a beautiful orange glow.
In that glow, everyone except for the two boys sitting on Rassilon's Memorial Stone, were able to see the tall figure gliding towards them, wearing his incredibly intimidating traditional red robes.
''Remove yourselves from the Memorial Stone at once.'' the figure spoke. His loud, articulated voice made the boys jump to the ground instinctively.
The boys were having trouble surpressing their laughter towards each other, but their fun would soon end as the Teacher approached them.
The two boys were the only ones out of twenty students standing in the courtyard who were wearing their robes so casually and loose.
Immediately the Teacher rectified this kind of disobediance, disrespect and laziness. As he finished, he pointed his large nose at the boys again as he gazed down from his high position, for he was much taller than the boys or any student, and raised his lip in an apparant smile.
''I should've known you two would always cause some kind of trouble...'' he spoke.
''You can rely on us, sir.'' the youngest boy spoke brightly, smiling defiantly, yet humbly at his Teacher.
As the Teacher examined the clever look in his eyes, he rubbed his hands together as a remedy for the cold.
''Time will tell if you will pass your exams tonight.'' he spoke.
The two boys started to smile when he spoke of 'time'.
''Have you studied hard for the exams of tonight?'' he asked the two boys.
The students surrounding them couldn't help but wonder what kind of wit they were going to display now.
''No, sir.'' the eldest boy spoke proudly, and honestly. ''We haven't studied at all.''
''Not today.'' the youngest boy said.
''Not yesterday.'' the eldest boy added.
''In fact, we haven't studied for weeks.'' the youngest boy finished witty.
The Teacher could not believe what he was hearing.
''And yet you two excell in every single exam of this semester?'' the Teacher asked. ''I doubt that.''
''We don't.'' the two boys said together.
''Call us arrogant...'' the eldest boy spoke.
''But I'd rather call us brilliant.'' the youngest boy said.
They smiled, and the Teacher couldn't help but smile as well.
The time for the exam drew nearer as the night grew darker.
This was an important test, and the teachers of the Time Lord Academy made certain that every student realised this.
During and after the exam, many teachers were patrolling the corridors between tables like guards, keeping all 10,000 students in check, and keeping them from cheating.
Even the weather seemed to realise the importance of this day, for it started raining for the first time in years.
The rain could be heard pounding upon the city's glass dome in the distance, high above them. Far away the water fell upon the dark, red mountains, and its rumbling sound echoed through the valley.
But the frightening, beautiful noise did not reach inside the castle.
The two boys, who were on purposely separated from each other during the exam, were not distracted from their pages, and as the the loud bell of the main tower of the castle finally started roaring as metal touched metal, and the scratching of pens finally stopped, the two boys looked at each other and grinned.
''Too easy.'' the eldest boy whispered as they passed each other near the headmaster's desk. They did not see his disapproving gaze as they left the main hall and prepared for some deserved rest, which by now, their brilliant minds deserved and needed. Not to mention their hands and wrists which had to pen down letters, words and answers for many hours on end.
As they entered the dormitory, all students of their class started to question each other about questions and answers and possible and clear mistakes, and the two boys gazed into each other's eyes and shook their heads.
They would not participate in this foolishness. They would head upstairs to their beds and talk there.
They left the curtains of their beds open so that they could see each other, but ended up gazing at the ceiling instead.
The eldest boy kept on throwing a little red ball at the ceiling, challenging himself not to touch the ceiling, yet try to reach as close as possible.
This little game seemed like an automatic reflex as he kept on throwing the ball towards the wooden ceiling. His eyes kept on watching how the ball went up and down.
How the ball defied gravity and was sucked back down again, unable to resist the planet's grip any longer.
''What did you have on the ''how can you break the speed of light'' question?'' the youngest boy asked, interrupting the eldest boy's game.
''Are you going to be just like those stupid gits downstairs?'' the eldest boy spoke. ''If you are, then why don't you just as well join them?''
''Don't tell me I'm a git.'' the youngest boy said. ''You're a git! You're nervous, aren't you? Afraid you might fail this test?''
''No.'' the eldest boy spoke, only glancing once at his friend as his little game went on. ''I know I'm brilliant. I'm just pissed off that they aren't. They don't even realise I'm brilliant. Instead they treat us like we're stupid. They treat us all like children...''
His little ball violently touched the wooden ceiling.
''You're not exactly 100 years old, you know.'' the youngest boy spoke.
''Neither are you.'' the other boy replied. ''I'm older than you.''
''Mere months, that's all. Nothing to write home about.''
With a soft thud the ball touched the ceiling again, and the conversation grew silent.
Until suddenly the eldest boy sat upright in his bed and gazed at the other boy who was scratching his head of wild hair.
''Have you ever wondered who those people are on the outside?'' he said.
The other boy now sat upright as well, as he tried to remember when he last thought the exact same thing.
''I've seen them before.'' he continued. ''Kids. Just like us. Playing outside the Academy's gates. They weren't even wearing robes, just...just plain clothing!''
''I know!'' the other boy replied enthusiastically, excited that as always, they were thinking on the same level again.
''Who are they? Why are they outside the Academy? Aren't they permitted to enter?''
''Perhaps they are outcasts.'' the youngest boy spoke. ''Cast out of the Academy. Perhaps they broke one rule too many...''
''Perhaps they didn't pass the exams...'' the eldest boy spoke. ''Remember when that ugly boy suddenly disappeared from class after that test? We never saw him again!''
''Yeah. I remember.'' the youngest boy said. ''Wasn't he replaced by that other guy? That new guy?''
Suddenly the doors of their chamber were pounded upon, and only then did they realise how silent it was downstairs.
The heavy wooden doors of the room were slowly opened, and the two boys had to avert their eyes from the lantern the Teacher held in his hand.
''Come.'' he said.
Curious boys stood behind him in the doorway, peeking inside to see how they would react.
Excited, the two boys climbed out of their beds, still fully clothed in their black robes, but slightly disorientated as the blood started to drop into their feet again.
As they looked upon the mysterious face of the Teacher, they imagined many scenarios of what might lay ahead.
But just as their hopes and dreams and expectations were running wild, the Teacher, with but two words, crushed those feelings and anticipations as he gazed into the young boy's eyes.
''Not you.'' he said, and the youngest boy's world seemed to collapse.
''Why?'' he asked as his hand started shaking.
They were being separated.
''Why?'' he asked again. ''Did I fail my test? Did I answer a question wrong?''
But the Teacher would not say anything as the eldest boy slowly stepped towards him, accepting the old man's escorting hand.
''Was it the question about deadlock seals? Did I answer it wrong?''
''No.'' the Teacher finally said.
''Then why?'' the boy asked.
Why couldn't he come with him, to whatever destination which lay ahead?
But the answer soon came.
''You are too young.'' the Teacher spoke.
His eyes were dark. The expression on his face resembled that of a ghost.
If glass could shatter in so many pieces that it would lay invisible, unseen on the cold floor, than that glass would perfectly resemble the young boy's mental state.
Fragile.
Pale.
Lost, but found.
A new fire began to burn in his eyes that night, as he lay silently on his bed, ignoring the little ball on his nightstand.
He wouldn't even sleep, for his mind was filled with thoughts, voices, music.
Drums.
And all the youngest boy could do was watch how his best friend had turned into a mindless zombie.
He was unable to sleep as well, although he was so tired he would practically die if he didn't close his eyes now.
But he didn't.
Hours he spent alone, locked inside his white, long curtains, voluntarily, lying alone on his bed, cursing the walls of this dreadful castle. Wishing he could join his brilliant friend to whatever secret chamber.
To whatever secret ceremony he'd heard whispers of ever since he set foot in the Time Lord Academy.
As he looked upon his changed friend, he could only imagine what mystery lied ahead for him to discover.
And he wished for time to speed up.
He wished for himself to age.
He wished never to be abandoned by his friend again.
Never to be alone again, like he had been for such a long time before.
And he finally closed his eyes.
Barefoot he walked through the castle's dark corridors, in his white pyjama, urged finally to follow in his friend's footsteps, no matter what the consequenses.
He had to know. He had to find out.
It had been days since his friend took the Teacher's hand and left the room and since then he had been changed somehow.
Differently. Dangerously.
He had grown violent and agressive. Arrogant and disrespectful.
What could have caused such a big change in attitude overnight?
What kind of dreams or nightmares could transform an innocent soul from one thing into another in one night's sleep?
He had to find out.
The castle's dark passage-ways were lit by torches on the wall.
The young boy did not know where to go, only to where his friend told him to go.
To the highest tower.
There the Teacher had taken him, but to go there in the middle of the night was dangerous.
The rules clearly stated it was forbidden to roam the castle at night, but that thought only made the boy hesitate once.
And that moment had passed long ago.
The boy expected to encounter a locked door sooner or later, but every door he laid his hand upon opened smoothly.
As he closed the big door behind him, he gazed up at the spiralling staircase going up into forever, and the boy prepared for a long and hard journey into the dark, endless, tower.
His feet grew weary, yet his dedication only wavered once as his eyes turned inward, questioning his motives of why he so eagerly wanted to reach that tower.
Only once.
After a million steps into the dark staircase which spiralled upwards, the boy finally reached the final door.
The door seemed ancient. Like two blocks of ancient compressed sand were pushed against each other.
The boy now seriously considered turning back as he aimed the light of his torch at the unpenetrable wall.
But then the light of his torch reflected back on something. A small drawing or carving of silver in the ancient door: a series of circles in a swirling motion, resembling smoke.
The boy couldn't help but approach the green reflection, aching to touch the carvings with his own hands, unaware that this would set in motion the door's mechanics and open up the door.
With a monstrous noise, the doors seemed to be slowly dragged over the dusty, sandy floor, revealing nothing but darkness in the mysterious chamber ahead.
The boy feared the noise must've awoken everyone in the castle, but after a short silence, he continued. He gazed into the darkness, hesitating to step inside.
He used to fear the darkness, he remembered. But not anymore.
He stepped inside. His bare feet touched the cold, wooden floor.
He saw nothing but darkness inside, and again fear clutched his insides. What would he find in this ominous, dark place? Would he find the answers he was seeking?
Why had it been so easily accessable? Why did he not encounter any locked doors?
Should he be fearing this darkness? Would some unknown death soon take him to depths unknown?
''Hello?'' he asked the darkness and his voice echoed into the distance.
The torches in the chamber were suddenly lit, revealing the boundaries and walls of the round chamber.
The darkness was still everywhere.
The boy aimed his torch in front of him, waving it around until he finally saw something.
Nothing.
That is what he saw. Nothing.
A hole of nothing, standing in the centre of the chamber.
It was pitch black, and as the boy approached, he was beginning to feel uneasy.
It grew colder and cold drops of sweat made his hair begin to stick to his forehead.
And the boy realised this had to be a portal of some kind.
Something of great importance. Something spectacular.
And it was.
As the portal opened in front of his eyes, and the temperature started rising, the torches on the walls started to dance and burn stronger and brighter than ever before.
The Untempered Schizm they called it.
A gap in the fabric of reality where one could look directly into the vortex.
The young boy gazed down into the endless vortex, feeling a warm wind blowing in his face as shivers went down his spine. He could sense its power.
And as he gazed into the vortex, the vortex gazed into him. Into his very soul.
And suddenly the boy felt tiny, puny, vulnerable, watched and wrong.
The vortex strengthened the emotions inside of him, blowing everything out of proportion.
The blue portal frightened him, and as the terrible cold spread across his spine, he could only think of one word, which every cell in his body acknowledged as the only right thing to do.
''Run.''