A/N: Inspired by the Seventh Doctor audio 'Master'. This is the story of how the Doctor's and the Master's futures were shaped by one event in their childhood.
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Torvic
On a planet at the edge of a galaxy lived two children, two young boys who grew up together, the best of friends. They would run away from their classes, run free in fields and forests, sit by the river, stare up at the stars and talk about their futures. They would talk about how one day they would be free from the stuffy society they lived in, free from the world of rules and restrictions, how they would wander the stars and see the universe.
Aside from the restrictions set upon them, the two boys were quite happy, spending their days learning and playing, mostly apart from the other children. Their friendship was special, and they both swore they would never grow apart, they would travel the universe together, the best of friends for all their lives.
Just as they had the same dreams, they also had the same troubles. One of these was a boy called Torvic. He had bullied the two of them for as long as they could remember, tormenting and humiliating them whenever he could, purely for pleasure. They were as worthless as ants to him, and he delighted in making them suffer. He wasn't evil, he was just another naughty young child trying to break the rules.
One day, the two boys were playing on the banks of the River Lethi when Torvic appeared. He sneaked up on the two boys sitting by the river and, without warning, he jumped on one of them and dragged him to the water's edge. He grabbed the boy's head and held it under the surface, laughing as he did so. The boy struggled in vain, choking as the water blinded him, rushing up his nose, into his mouth and down his throat.
Torvic wouldn't have drowned the other boy, he wasn't trying to. Cruelty, not evil, drove him to his actions. He sought control, which is what bullies do. It was part of his nature.
Normally when Torvic tormented one of the boys, the other would sit and wait, frozen with terror, helpless until it was all over. This time, something awoke in the other child, and suddenly he was sick with anger. Blinded by fury, he ran at Torvic, stopping only to pick up a large stone.
The child pulled his friend from the water, and they both stood by the rushing stream, watching the blood flow from Torvic's shattered skull into the water. They watched in silence, neither able to fully comprehend what one of them had done. The boys realised immediately what punishment they would face. Even though they were just children, even though they had only been trying to protect themselves, one of them had killed. One of them had taken a life. If they were found out, they would never be able to leave the planet, never wander the stars and see the universe as they had always wanted.
Together, they pulled Torvic's body from the river, pulled him onto dry land and covered his body with branches from the trees. Together, they set the funeral pyre alight. Together, holding hands, they watched his body burn. They watched as the skin blackened, burned, blistered and bubbled in the intense heat of the flames, watched until no trace was left of the body but a pile of ashes on a scorched patch of earth, and wisps of black smoke winding their way through the air, disappearing into the sky.
They were never caught.
They went back to their homes as if nothing had happened. Many years passed. The boys grew up, and they grew apart. They never spoke of that dreadful day, never once mentioned it.
After many, many years of waiting and striving, one of them finally left his home, for reasons far too complicated to go into. He called himself the Doctor. He left the planet of rules and stuffy ceremonies in a stolen time ship, and travelled the universe, always with friends, doing good wherever he could. Perhaps, in some small way, he did it to try and make up for the terrible thing that had happened all those years ago.
The other became distant over those many, many years as the memory of what he had done ate away at him, his soul twisted by guilt and hatred. He called himself the Master. He too left and travelled the universe, but always alone. He had no friends. The awful guilt turned into terrible evil, which grew inside of him with every passing year. He brought death wherever he travelled, with no reasons, no motives. He hatched ridiculous plots and schemes, plans to control the universe. His plans often fell apart, foiled and crushed before their culmination, but not before many had died. Families were devastated, worlds destroyed, thousands, perhaps millions killed, all by his hand. His oldest friend, now his oldest foe, played a part in stopping his evil plots many countless times, but was never able to stop him completely. His will was just too strong, and even death could not stop him finding ways to dominate and destroy.
On the night of that fateful day, both boys slept in their beds and dreamed disturbing dreams of rushing water and choking, of fury, blood and the sickening crunch of a child's skull shattering, of cold, shaking hands clutching tight to one another, and of the horrible smell of burning flesh. One of the boys was visited in those dreams by a beautiful woman with dark, flashing eyes and a mocking smile.
She called herself Death. She told him that he should be hers, that it was her right to have her champion, but that another had plans for him. She made a deal with him. She gave him a choice. He could live with the torment, the terrible, crushing guilt, have it eat away at him until he belonged to her, or he could be free, and give to her his closest friend.
The boy who would become known as the Doctor smelled the smoke all around him, heard the rush of the river that ran bright red. He looked down at the blood on his hands.
"Take him."
