Finally! Stuff is happening people! We have a plot line! Also, the Doctor will be mentioned but I can't decide whether or not to actually have him included. I doubt I will though. Sorry for the unbelieveably short prologue though. I write short prologues. what can I say? Also I forgot to put this in the previous chapter but

Discliamer: I don't own Doctor Who. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! But I do own Mr Question Mark.

"No you don't"

"...What? Whose speaking?"

"Mr Question Mark of course. And you don't OWN me. I'm an individual. If you own me, that puts a label on what I am and that.."

"Shutupshutupshutup! Well then Mr Individual"

"Question Mark. It's Mr Question Mark. But carry on"

"What do you suggest we do?"

"Let the reader's read?"

"..."

"Sorry about that. I'm taking over. Enjoy.

"What!"

The Beginning: Saga 1: Chapter 1

It was only 4 days after her 7th birthday. She had gotten many gifts from her family and future suitors. She was led to believe otherwise but the struggle for power and other families was obvious. She was only 7, for God's sake! She had managed to get outside and she was currently lying among the castle's gardens, a large area covered with shrubbery and greenery at all sides. The only part that lack nature's touch was a cobblestone path that wound around the garden itself. She looked at the blue cloudless sky, breathing softly. The wind blew the flowers softly against her face, a feeling that she thoroughly enjoyed. There was something that she couldn't escape though. The presents that her suitors had given her had filled her head with numerous questions. Who would she choose her future husband? Would it be pre-determined? Written in the stars that looked down from them from afar? She knew that ancient forces in her bloodline prevented her parents from dying and her ageing from 16 until she chose a suitable partner. She picked a spot among the blue and stared at it.

"Who will I choose?" she asked rhetorically.

That's when he saw it. A few centimetres from where she staring, a shape was growing larger and larger. She stood up and squinted at it. Yes, it was definitely getting larger and larger. In a matter of a second it had grown from the size of a speck of dust to the size of finger. She went wide-eyed but it was too late. The object fell from the sky and it smashed against the flowers, kicking up dirt in the process, throwing her back. Before she blacked out, he was positive she saw a blue box lying in garden.

She heard a voice. Whispers, nothing more. No figures were visible yet she sensed a presence. A powerful presence. She concentrated to what the voice was saying but she could only hear aspects of what it said.

"The Cause ... here. Never...contain me."

"Who are you?" she called to the voice. It stopped and she glanced around, hoping for an answer.

"Your Highness She's waking up!"

This time, it was a different voice that struck the air, and it was one that she knew well.

Precia opened her eyes and saw her maid, Eileen, looking at her with a look of concern. Upon staring deep into her eyes she cried out "Young Miss!" and embraced Precia as though she was her own daughter. Precia tried to push her away but to no avail.

"Now, now Eileen. Let Precia breathe at least" Eileen reluctantly let go and Precia looked at the direction the voice had come from.

A man stood in the doorway. He looked to be in his 40's and his brown eyes, black hair and facial features were ones that people had commented on before. King Matthew was a man with a reputation of being able to look in to the hearts of men and judging their character. Next to him was a woman who looked to be the same age. Her blond hair was shorter than Precia's, only reaching to her neck and her blue eyes looked over in concern to where Precia lay. The woman hurried over and stroked her hair, moving it out of her eyes.

"Look at what's happened to your hair. It's everywhere." The woman turned to Eileen. "I'll have you look into that, Eileen." Eileen bowed in agreement and Precia chuckled underneath her breath.

"Good to see you too, mum" she said. The woman averted her gaze from Eileen to Precia and smiled.

"I suppose it is." She commented before pulling her into a hug that was more life-threatening than Eileen's. The man at the door sighed before stating nonchalantly "You should let go of her Halma before she chokes."

The woman released Precia who gasped for air and looked accusingly at the man.

"Like you're one to talk, Matthew. You were the most worried. Having that boy flogged..." Matthew ignored her and strode over to Precia and bent down so that they were eye-level.

"Do you remember anything that happened?" he asked. His eyes were deadly serious, a look that Precia had rarely seen. She was taken aback at the remark. She had expected her father to be a part of the reunion that was taking place but she knew that if he knew that anyone had hurt her, he would stop at nothing to see that they were brought to justice. But the question had some merit. What had happened? What was that box that had fallen from the sky? She fumbled over her words before saying:

"I remember that I was in the garden. There..." she paused thinking of the best way to put what she had seen. "there was a box. A blue box. It fell; hit the ground and that's all I remember."

Matthew looked back at Halma with a worried face.

"You see Matthew? He had nothing to do with it. He was probably just having a stroll in the garden when it happened."

"But his presence is suspicious enough, not to mention his eyes. He was trespassing! He-"

"Who?" Both Halma and Matthew looked at Precia who had already sat up. They had been constantly chatting about him and Precia wanted to know what they were talking about.

Matthew went back to his squatting position, cleared his throat before asking: "Was there anyone else in the garden at the time?"

Precia was confused. The garden was private property and monitored everyone who entered and left. Any trespassers were immediately apprehended.

"No". She replied. "Why do you ask?"

Matthew glanced back at Halma who shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing new. He didn't say anything either." She commented.

"What is it dad?" Precia asked.

"Precia, are you sure that they was no-one?" he asked, turning back to her.

"Yes. 100% positive" was her reply.

"Well...when you were found there was a boy around 15 I'd say and he was lying not far from where you were. He had a small cut on his head but it was nothing serious."

"What happened to him?" asked Precia.

"Well..."

"Well, your father felt that he had something to do with the incident. So after the boy regained consciousness, he was flogged. Repeatedly." Said Halma with a disapproving glance at Matthew.

"And?" asked Precia.

"Nothing" said Matthew. "We were at it for 3 hours. Didn't say anything. Not a word or plea to stop. Just silence."

Precia was immediately intrigued. She had seen a flogging once. It involved getting metal that was stuck in a furnace lashing against human skin. She had gotten nightmares for days after the experience. And this boy hadn't said a word? Interesting...

"Well, I guess he'll just have to spend the day in the dungeons. We'll talk with him tomorrow.: said Matthew.

Precia sat in silence. What did he have to do with what happened? Was he even related to the incident? Or the blue box?

"Can I see him?" she blurted out.

The surprise in Matthew's eyes was clear. His eyes narrowed but he let the issue go.

"Sure, but I don't think you'll get anything out of it. I certainly didn't"

Precia hugged her father. "Thanks dad!" She exclaimed. "Is it OK if I go now?"

Matthew's objection to the idea was clear but he knew his daughter's stubborn attitude mean that she would go anyway, regardless of what he said.

"Of course it is." He said. He stood up and left the room along with Halma and Eileen as Precia rushed to her closet to pick out a dress.

A few minutes later, a girl wearing a yellow dress decorated with cute red flowers that covered her pink joggers and socks reached the entrance to the dungeons. Because the mysterious boy was a trespasser, he didn't pose much a threat so there weren't any guards around to monitor the dungeons or the boy. She entered the dark entrance and went down the spiral staircase, her way illuminated by torches attached to the wall. The dungeon was perhaps the only place in the entire castle that stayed alight. The torches were made of a material that always burned and never wore out. Her anxiousness to seeing the prisoner made her race down the staircase, one of the choices that were better that she hadn't made. She lost her balance and tripped, flinging out an arm to maintain her balance at the wall. It scraped against the cold, hard stone. She winced in pain as tiny fragments attached to her palm, scraping her skin. Catching her breath for less than a moment she walked down the rest of the way. It occurred to her that she could've taken the elevator that had been installed last week but she hadn't considered the thought in all of her excitement. The stairs reached into a large corridor that with lined with cells on the opposite side. There were 5 cells in all with the one in front of her being the first in a line. The elevator doors were lined with the 4th cell but it was what she saw in the second that caught her interest. She couldn't see as clearly as she wished but she was sure that the boy had looked at her when she walked in. Bending over to catch her breath, she walked slowly to where he was. He was leaning against the balls joining the 2nd and 3rd cells. He was dressed very strangely indeed. He was wearing black shoes, white socks, log, black trousers, a black blazer, white, buttoned shirt and a black necktie that was slightly askew. It looked as though he was dressed for a special occasion rather than being locked up. He had black hair and rough features, the thing that stood out being the bruise on his left cheek. His legs were spread out, his hands were by his sides and his eyes were closed.

"You know." He began in a smooth controlled voice. "Your father would be upset if you fell down those stairs. It might lead to-"his mouth twitched "-unnecessary assumptions."

She was confused. How had he known that she had tripped? Had he somehow escaped and seeing her, ran back down the stairs? No, if that was the case, he would have taken the elevator.

"How did you know?" she asked. His head turned towards her and he opened his eyes. Precia stepped back in shock. She remembered how her parents had discussed the boy's eyes but she hadn't expected anything like this. They were different colours. The left was a bright blue and the right was red. She thought of a thousand additional questions to ask him but before she could, he spoke.

"The knees of your dress." He said pointing. "They were clean when you came in but now they're dirty."

She looked down at her knees, squinting to get a better look. Indeed, on the knees of her dress, there was a faint patch of dirt.

"Obviously" the boy continued. "when you were catching your breathe, you transferred the dirt from your hand onto the dress. As for how I knew that you fell, there are scraped of the hand sloping down. You held out your hand to support you as you tripped. Hence, the dirt s from the stairwell."

Precia stared at the boy, who after he was finished, diverted his attention to the ceiling. Her brain tried to process what he had said. It had made perfect sense but to see such tiny details from where he sat was quite impressive. Even she had to squint to see it up close.

"You must have amazing eyesight to see the marks on my dress"

The boy said nothing and continued to look at the ceiling. Precia felt a touch of agitation. She was usually the centre of attention and not used to being ignored. Clearing her throat, she tried a different approach in order to get the boy to talk and answer the questions she had prepared.

"My name is-"

"I know who you are" was his response, sharp and blunt. "I was just beaten regarding you."

Precia looked at him with a glare. "You're doing that thing you just did, aren't you? OK, how did you figure it out? My hairstyle or dress? It is exclusive to the castle?" she flicked her hair to emphasise but also to grab his attention. The boy looked at her and he raised one of his eyebrows.

"You're rather full of yourself, you know that?" he commented.

Precia was shocked. Sure she had been insulted before but never by someone who she had only met for less than half an hour.

"As for whom you are, a small girl in a castle wearing that get-up? Please."

Precia felt a twitch of anger. The nerve of this guy! He didn't even know her and was clearly insulting her.

"OK" she countered, crossing her arms. "Well since you can tell me about myself, it's my turn to tell something about you. You think you know everything and you always get your way." Her nostrils flared as she finished, exhaling.

The boy continued to look at her, clearly amused. "Doesn't that describe you? And also, since your not denying my claim, I assume that means you acknowledge that you're full of yourself?"

Precia reeled back at the remark he had just made. Here she was, trying to be polite and he feels that he can say what he wanted.

"Fine" she said in resignation. "I thought you might want some company but I see that's not the case. She turned and began to walk to the elevator.

"Funny." She heard the boy say.

"What is it?" she spat.

"Well, unless I'm mistaken, you probably wanted to ask what I was doing in the garden. Very popular question these days."

She spun around, hoping that he would continue.

"But I'll tell you what I told your father missy. Bite me." the boy said with a devious smile.

Precia screamed inside of herself and pressed the up button on the elevator panel.

"Just so you know, I'm not coming down here again until you apologise."

The elevator opened and she stepped inside.

"Pretty hard to do that since I'm, you know, locked up." The boy commented.

Precia paused, reflecting on the idiocy of what she had said.

"And as for introduction, Precia, you many call me Mr Question Mark." The door closed as he finished and there was a small hum as the elevator ascended.

"Mr Question Mark!? What kind of name is that?!"she yelled in the confines of the elevator,

Mr Question Mark lay in the same position as he had been throughout the entire conversation, still looking at the ceiling. He smirked.

"She'll be back" he assured himself.

So what did you think? the author's tied up right now so he can't come to the phone right now...wait. What's that? You want people to review and wait for more chapters? OK? Did you get that? Good.

Review if you please.