A/N) Happy new year everyone! Here is another chapter to my little epic, as I've started calling it! There are only THREE more chapters left to this story. I hope to have this fic complete by the end of January.

Enjoy this chapter! Yet again, it is another long one!

Ten

Martha and the Shaman sat together, whispering in hushed tones. She had informed him of what she had done by giving the Ofhorn flower to the parents of the murdered girl to eat. She explained the effects it had on them and how it had freed their trapped emotions. The Prophet had suggested on crushing the Ofhorn flower into powder so that it could easily spread throughout the camp. This technique also meant that less of the flower was used.

There was, however, a problem that needed to be urgently addressed.

The rest of the villagers had noticed the different actions that Arka and Myza were taking over their daughter's demise. They had been seen regularly crying by their daughter's body and whispering the words: "I love you" to her, which was not something that had been heard of in over a thousand years. The feelings were new to the rest of the villagers and they were suspicious of why their attitude had changed from the accepted view of preaching revenge to crying their eyes out and muttering how much they missed and loved her.

The abrupt changes were down to Martha Jones and the people of the tribe knew this due to her status as an outsider. Any attempt she made to introduce the drink to them was met with rebuff because they didn't like the changes that had overcome Arka and Myza. The only people that would consider being in her company without flinching at her where Kaza, the Shaman, Arka and Myza.

Being shunned by most of the Northern Tribe prevented Martha from going off to do what she ached to do most, which was to go and find the Doctor. Fortunately, while the Northern Tribe were ignoring her, Martha still had an edge. The Southerner's, the tribe that had been responsible for the murder of the girl and the Doctor's capture, were victims of the darkness as well as the Northerners. All of them were being used without their knowledge.

"I think," the Shaman began, speaking slowly, considering what words he should say next, "that it would be a good idea if you travelled to the Southerner camp."

Martha, her bright brown eyes shining in the light, nodded, but then she frowned as her mind examined the Shaman's suggestion. "Hold on, the Southerners are the ones who kidnapped the Doctor. If I went there, it would be like handing myself over to the enemy on a plate!"

The Shaman shook his head. She figured that he had been expecting her answer as he spoke immediately after she had finishing speaking. "The darkness enlisted the aid of the Southerners to distract the warriors of Kaza's tribe so that they would be able to take the Doctor unnoticed," he explained, his voice soft and serene. "I have thought long and hard about this and, as you know, I have briefly connected to the Doctor's mind, and I attempted to again to see if I could sense where he was. Neither he nor his captors are in the direction of the Southerner camp. The darkness is preoccupied with breaking your friend. You have an advantage that you must take, otherwise if you don't, you will surely fail in your task."

Martha knew the Shaman was just giving her the best advice, but it stung to be told that if she didn't act and go to the enemy camp then all her efforts would, basically be, for nothing. "There isn't any other way?"

The Shaman shook his head, sadness reflected in his eyes. "No. Kaza's people are too suspicious of you now since the changes of Arka and Myza. They do not like seeing them. The Southerners do not know about you or of the contents of the prophecy."

Leaning back Martha placed her hands on the ground, gnawing upon her bottom lip as she considered her next course of action. It was inevitable that she would have to go talk to the Southerners, but she couldn't see the point of it. "Let me see if I've got this correct. Kaza's people are reluctant to talk or even be seen in the company of me because of what I've supposedly done to Arka and Myza. I've just freed them, but the rest of the people see that as unnatural. The creature is preventing the remainder of the population from gaining access to their 'lost' emotions, but the Ofhorn flower breaks down that particular barrier. The Southerners have no idea that is what I have been doing and I have an advantage with them that I have lost with Kaza's people."

"That is correct," the old sage said, smiling gently. "The Southerners, under the rule of Chief Harr, have no idea of the existence of the Ofhorn flower; nor would they know what you have done to gain the mistrust of their enemies."

Martha frowned, considering how she could gain the trust the Southerners without raising their suspicions. Finally she looked at the Shaman, appealing for his help. "What do you think?"

"I would suggest presenting yourself as a trader from another world. Maralus does get visited by other species but only on very rare occasions. The people do know that life exists out there and they are always intrigued to try new or see things that have originated from another world."

Martha nodded, understanding what the Shaman was suggesting, but she didn't like it one bit. "I've got to lie to gain their trust. I would be effectively claiming that the Ofhorn flower comes from off world, when in fact it doesn't. They might know that."

"Ah," the Shaman held up his right hand, a glint in his eyes. He had already thought this through. "But if you give them the Ofhorn flower as a drink, mash it up and liquidize it, they wouldn't realise that it was the same thing. That is your advantage because the cure can be administered in many ways."

"But I would still be lying," pressed Martha, "and I dislike doing that. It's not right to keep the truth from people. It's only in situations when your life is in danger that lying is acceptable."

"And your life isn't in danger?" the Shaman probed, eyebrows rising.

Martha bit her lip. "I guess it is, but it still feels deceitful."

"I can understand that," said the Shaman, gently, as he laid a bony hand on her knee. "It is essential that you get the Southerners on your side as that would mean that the Northerners would have no one to fight or feel anger against. The Southerners, plus yourself, Kaza, Myza and Arka would be able to convince the rest of this tribe that it was for the better if they did what you say. By saving the Southerners first, you are effectively weakening the darkness…" he was cut of as Martha finished his sentence.

"Therefore the pressure that is constant on their minds would be less effective upon them so they would be more willing to listen to me. The weaker the creature is, the less chance it has of preventing the people from accessing their emotions, right?"

"Exactly," the Shaman nodded enthusiastically. "This is just guesswork here, but nothing can take away someone's emotions – suppress them yes – which is what the creature has most likely done. The Ofhorn flower breaks through the block that the creature is using on the people, and when that happens they experience so much at once, the darkness becomes weaker and cannot regain control, therefore effectively freeing the population from its grasp."

"And the only way for it to become stronger again would be for the people to hate again, but the torrent of emotions breaking through would damage or destroy the creature enough so that it is no longer a threat to this planet!"

"Yes!" shouted the Shaman. "There is one problem and I know you won't like it."

"What's that?" she asked, wondering what he had spotted that she hadn't.

"The two people who work with the creature would serve as its life-force if all the people were saved. Those two people would be unredeemable as the creature's grasp on them would be too strong and you wouldn't be able to convince them to take Ofhorn anyway."

"What must I do?" said Martha, but even as she said she felt a weight settle in her stomach and she realised instantly what the Shaman was asking of her. "I would have to kill them so that the darkness is gone forever. You are asking me to become a murderer."

"No," he shook his head. "I wouldn't ask you to kill and I cannot see you doing anything like that, however you must ensure that they die or the creature will rise again. It cannot survive without the hate of others. Keeping its most loyal followers alive would enable it to survive, albeit weakly. Eventually it would gain control once more."

"But if the people want vengeance on this creature," said Martha, "wouldn't they be giving it what it wants; the emotions that it feeds upon?"

"Not quite," discussed the Shaman. "If the Northerners and Southerners came together for vengeance and actively killed the two that aid it, then their souls would be free. They would have exacted revenge, but once they had killed those two people they would feel as if justice had been done."

"The creature's destruction is inevitable then," finished Martha. "I just have to convince the Southerners to take Ofhorn and then orchestrate the deaths of two people with the help of both tribes. It doesn't sound too difficult."

But she knew deep down that it was the toughest task she had ever faced, and she wondered if she would be able to succeed and bring about the creature's destruction. She hoped that the Doctor was alright and that they would see each other again. If she failed in her task, then the chances of that reunion would be down to zero.

She just hoped that it wouldn't be down to her to murder in cold blood. Martha Jones already knew that she'd be unable to take someone's life away. If it came to it, she wouldn't know what to do. Sighing, she thrust those thoughts out of her mind and concentrated on listening to the Shaman's words as he told her exactly how she should disguise herself and what she should say to the Southerners when she entered their camp, posing as a trader.

"Where is she?" asked Arrein as he peered round the camp that the Northerner's lived in. He and his sister were once again hidden by their master, so they were able to move more freely without fear of discovery. They had been tasked with finding and bringing Martha Jones back with them so that it would help their master break the Doctor. Unfortunately there wasn't any sign of her – it was as if she had disappeared into thin air.

Aziel growled. "It appears she has left the village. I wonder where she has gone." She looked down, grounding her heels into the earth. "Master will not be best pleased. We need her."

"Unfortunately we must note this mission as a failure. There is no way we can track Martha Jones. We must limp back to our master in disgrace and hope that he doesn't take his anger out on us," said Arrein as he laid a hand upon his sister's shoulder.

Aziel giggled as they made their way though the village and back towards the mountain. "Besides, our master has someone else he can take his anger out on."

He didn't know what was happening, apart from the fact that he realised his throat was raw and cracked from the amount of screaming he had been doing since the creature had been attacking his mind. He felt cold and slightly disorientated as his eyes blurred.

Your friend is not where she is supposed to be, the voice muttered in his head, as tingles of pain rushed through his body. He bit his lip trying not to aggravate his sore throat more by screaming.

Where is she? The creature demanded of him.

The Doctor smiled mirthlessly. "How am I supposed to know? I've been trapped in here!" he croaked. "You could probably locate Martha anyway!" That was definitely the worst thing he could say – putting ideas in to the creature's head was no the most sensible thought he had ever had.

I can lure her here. My followers cannot find her in the Northerners camp which means that she is elsewhere, working against me, trying to find my weakness. But I have found hers: you. I can reach into her mind and plant images that I desire her to see.

"Leave her alone!" the Doctor yelled, ignoring the pain that was threatening to consume him. He yanked on the ropes binding him, using all the strength he could muster to loosen the rope and to his utter astonishment it broke, releasing his hands from their bonds. He could escape, break free from his imprisonment.

Even as he considered this option the creature screeched in fury. It wasn't in his mind but he could hear it – hidden deep in the cavern that he had sat in. He rubbed his wrists trying to get the circulation going again, as his numbed fingers slowly began to feel once more. Scrambling to his feet he made a run towards the light that he could see in the distance, but then immense pain spread up his entire body sending him sprawling. His hands clutched at his head and he yelled in abject agony.

He had to get away – he had a chance – but the pain was too much. The pressure was building on his brain. Fighting the urge just to surrender to the darkness, the Doctor launched himself to his feet, running as fast as he could, his eyes barely open, hands still clutched at the side of his head. The pain got worse and he fell to his knees, eyes shut, fingers scrabbling at the cave wall, as he fell to his back on the floor.

Then it abruptly stopped – the agony just disappeared within the blink of an eye.

The Doctor opened his eyes to find Aziel and Arrein staring down at him. "Oh…"

"Trying to escape are we?" Arrein kicked him in the stomach and the Doctor doubled over.

He didn't say anything, just stared intently at his captors.

"It's a pity we couldn't locate Martha Jones. I wonder where she has gone," mused Aziel, stroking her chin. "She will, of course, eventually do everything we say otherwise she will watch you die. I am certain you wouldn't want that now, would we?"

"She will carry on whether you kill me or not. You are just waiting for the inevitable," whispered the Doctor.

Arrein glanced at his sister, but didn't say a word.

Then the creature spoke so that they could all here what was being said.

I know where she is. I have located her.

The Doctor's hearts stopped once more and he swallowed, fearful for Martha.

"Where is she?" Aziel asked, her voice portraying eagerness.

The Doctor felt disgusted. They wanted to hurt her, his Martha. He knew that he didn't have a chance of escaping now. Even if he did attempt it, it would be pointless. The creature could continue to attack his mind whenever he was close to the mountain. He would have to wait it out and hope that Martha would be able to avoid her pursuers.

She is in the Southerner camp.

"She's with our tribe?" shouted Aziel, her voice shrill with hate. "How did she get there?"

"She walked," the Doctor said, feeling his voice with sarcasm. His defiance only gave him a splitting headache as a booted foot connected with his head.

"Shut up."

He did so, not wanting to annoy them any further then they already were. He heard the creature speak again, but decided to keep quiet, to observe.

She has found the cure. She is taking away my resources to survive. I need hate, anger and revenge to survive and they are being taken from me! You must stop her!

Arrein nodded and turned away.

Wait!

"Yes master?" Aziel asked, clearly distressed by the news they had just received about their masters welfare.

Take him with you. You will need leverage to ensure she complies with what I desire. If she doesn't to what I demand, then you kill him, slowly. Those she has saved will protect her; she will be untouchable. The Doctor's death will be the only way of controlling her. Understand?

"We do," bowed Arrein, moving toward the Doctor. From his pocket he pulled out a little bottle. He unscrewed it and forced the liquid down the Time Lord's throat. He tried to spit it out but couldn't as his airways were cut off. The vile liquid spread through his system. He began to feel dizzy and light-headed and then he forgot everything as unconsciousness claimed him.

She had reached the Southerner camp within due course. The day was drawing to a close and the sun that had been shining down upon her was slowly setting in the distance. Martha Jones carried a back-pack which was filled with the antidote in liquid form (which the Shaman had kindly made before she had departed towards the Southerner camp), as well as several gifts. She wore black trousers, with a gold belt (upon which a water bottle was attached), and a shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. Her hair was tied in a high pony-tail. According to Kaza, Martha certainly looked from off-world, but she had assumed she had looked like that in her other attire when she and the Doctor had arrived.

However there was still the possibility of some of the Southerners recognising her from the attack and realising she was 'in cohorts' with their enemy, which wouldn't help the situation one bit. The disguise was necessary in case someone did recognise her. Having her hair tied back did make her look different, and she had washed the make-up she had applied earlier, off. The difference was noticeable and would hopefully enable her to keep her true identity secret until the right time.

The trek round the mountain had taken three hours, however due to all the running she had done since meeting the Doctor, the long walk hadn't been as exhausting as she had previously thought it would be.

She stopped in front of the two sentries that were standing guard and smiled widely. "Hello!" she said brightly, making sure her voice was filled with confidence. "I've travelled far and wide in my search of this planet and have come here to spread my gifts of the outside world to you!"

The guards exchanged a glance with each other, nodded and then escorted her into the village, taking her to the centre where a bonfire was being made. It seemed to her that the Southerners were cutting down the remaining forest, despite what Kaza had said about the forest being strictly off limits to only those that could be trusted. The Southerners were destroying the forest that had been proclaimed a sacred place on Maralus. It was then that Martha began to feel the first stabs of nervousness as she prayed that none of the Southerners had stumbled across the Ofhorn flower.

They told her to wait in front of a hut, while they went inside and then, after a few minutes, came back out where they announced her blessed arrival to their Chief, whose name she found out was Aiden CoHarr. All around her song and dance erupted from the villagers, as they began to circle the bonfire, moving their limbs in time with the drumbeats that others had started up. To Martha's dismay and horror the songs and dance conveyed the actions of violence and revenge and how constructing their lives on those two things made the life they led more meaningful. She felt disgusted by their actions, however she had opportunity to change their way of life forever by distributing the cure. The Chief emerged from his hut, dressed in long yellow robes that, if the sun had not been setting, would be glittering in its golden rays.

Respectively, Martha bowed.

"You may rise, my child."

She did so, ignoring the fact that he addressed her as 'my child'.

"Come," he beckoned.

She followed him into the hut and stopped just inside the entrance as her eyes swept across the various decorations that the Southerner Chief had collected. They were, however, made of bones. Inanimate objects had been carved from the bones of corpses.

"You come from the stars."

It was statement, not a question, but she decided to answer. "I do. I have come far and wide searching for people to see and get to know about. I am proud to have found you." She put as much enthusiasm into her voice as she could and hoped that her facial expressions showed her happiness and eagerness to be here.

The Chief scrutinised her, studying her up and down before he spoke. "It is curious that an off-worlder on this world visits me when we didn't see your ship come in."

"No," Martha shook her head. "You didn't. It is over thirty miles away, so you wouldn't have seen it from above."

"Oh." Chief CoHarr stroked his moustache then threaded his fingers down into his beard. "I didn't think of that."

"That's alright," grinned Martha, smiling widely. "I am interested in learning more about your people and establishing whether we originate from the same type of molecules, as we do look, in principle, the same. The only difference in our physical aspects that I can see is that I require an extra finger." She held out her hand showing it to CoHarr, who's eyes widened in amazement. He took hold of Martha's hand, examining it and running his own hands over hers, comparing their textures, shape and size.

"You have lovely hands," commented CoHarr.

"Thank you." She felt flattered by his efforts to maker her feel welcome and at ease, despite his initial reservations of her.

He offered her a chair to sit on, that had been carved from wood, once again confirming her suspicions that the Southerners were disregarding the unwritten rule not to destroy the forest that had been preserved for so many years. She sat down placing the back-pack she had on the floor beside her. Once again she expressed her gratitude for his hospitality.

"You would like to know about our people?" he asked, leaning forward, a curious expression present on his face.

"I would," agreed Martha. "What I have seen so far of his word is fascinating – strange and different from any other world that I have explored so far. Excuse me for saying this but you lead a primitive existence and it intrigues me as to how you know about aliens and how you lead your life, despite knowing there is something better out there. I feel excited at the prospect of learning new things about people like myself, but do not have the same life I lead and cannot because they have yet to discover the devices to which they can succeed further in the universe."

"I have not had that feeling before – of feeling 'excited'." CoHarr said sadly. He had given the answer Martha had been hoping for. He had picked up on the missing feeling that she had used in her explanation. She had waffled, yes, but it was necessary to see if he picked up on her usage of words.

The Chief began to explain the customs of his people and Martha found that his tribe operated under the same basic principles that Kaza's did. He briefly touched upon the war that raged between his tribe and the 'others', but he proclaimed that the war would not bother or interfere with Martha's exploration of the planet. Unfortunately, although he didn't know it yet, Martha was already involved, and her true purpose would be revealed once the cure had been distributed around the Southerner Camp.

She listened politely, gasping in all the right places and asking interesting questions that kept the Chief talking for hours. Night had fallen and she estimated that it was around midnight when he finally finished elaborating about his home, his people and their customs.

CoHarr looked at her expectantly. "You mentioned that you had gifts to share?"

"I do," nodded Martha.

Bending down beside the bag, Martha opened it and took out the flask that contained the antidote. The flask had come from the TARDIS, which she had briefly gone back to before departing on her mission. There she had stumbled across a box entitled 'Lost Property from Earth'. Inside she had found many different objects and antiques cluttered away and she had decided that giving some of these to the Southerners may help them consider her a friend. She hoped the Doctor didn't mind her using this stuff, but if it saved his life then it would be worth it.

"I bring gifts my home world of Earth. They range from priceless collectibles to expensive attire," she said, picking up the first of the gifts she had thought suitable to present to the Chief.

"What is it?" he asked as she showed him a bracelet that was decorated in small, glowing jewels. She held it up so that CoHarr could examine it fully and then passed it to him to touch. She watched with fascination as he tried to slip the bracelet onto his wrist, which he finally succeeded in doing when he located the catch on the underside of the jewellery.

"This is a bracelet that is given to a woman as a gift in recognition of how important they are to the giver. You, as the receiver of this gift, can present the bracelet to one you care about, telling them that they mean so much to you that everything else is tiny compared to her. The bracelet demonstrates exactly what a lover means to someone."

She was making it all up, but she had to improvise and convince the Chief to accept the most important gift she had to offer – namely the cure.

"Do you have anyone special that you care deeply about?" she asked, her thoughts momentarily on the Doctor.

He shook his head, lowering his head. "No, I don't. Duties as Chief as my people prevent such attachments from happening."

"Oh," she put on a sad face showing her sympathies for something he had never had. "I'm sorry."

"No matter – this is a wonderful gift to receive," CoHarr indicated the bracelet, his eyes sparkling at the delight he had of such a gift. "What others do you have?"

Martha proceeded through the gifts she had brought with her, presenting each one with information that would hopefully intrigue CoHarr enough to at least try the Ofhorn flower.

The gifts she had found ranged from jewellery to puzzle boxes to cups and saucers to an intricate piece of art that had been painted by someone she did not recognise. It was quite small, but showed a range of colours. Finally Martha sat back, picking up the flask of the cure, opening it expectantly, watching the Chief as he leaned back and awaited the next and final gift she had brought with her.

"My last gift is a sample of an exotic drink that is native to my home planet. I give this to you and your people so that you may experience a taste like no other. Would you like to try some?"

"I would," said CoHarr.

Martha smiled, pleased at the development. "May I borrow the cup I gave you to pour some of the liquid in?"

"Here." The Chief passed her one of the three cups she had presented him with as a gift.

She took it gratefully and poured some of the antidote into the cup, filling it to its brim, before passing it back to CoHarr so that he could taste it.

Taking the delicate blue cup in his hands CoHarr sipped at the liquid, licking his lips as he tasted the sweetness of the cure. His eyes lighted up in pleasure at this new taste. Martha waited patiently, hands in her lap, watching as CoHarr drunk the whole cup dry.

"This is nice," he said, obviously thrilled at the new taste that Martha had given him the chance to discover.

"How do you feel?" asked Martha, holding her breath as she waited for the answer she hoped that he would give. She had wondered why the Ofhorn flower had worked so quickly upon Arka and Myza and she supposed that it was some sort of poison that attacked the creature's grip on their minds, therefore making it retreat long enough for the people of Maralus to regain control of all their emotions. She also supposed that the Ofhorn flower temporarily pushed back the anger, revenge and hatred emotions that had been so prominent, while the other emotions that had been suppressed surged forth.

The Chief looked thoughtful as he considered her question. "Different."

"Good different or bad different?" enquired Martha.

"Good, I think. I have a strange feeling that has suddenly arose in me, like it has been blocked by something and that block has gone like that….I don't feel overwhelming anger like I did before, hatred for the other tribe has dissipated. I don't even know why we were fighting…" he swallowed, and Martha could see the fear in his eyes as his mind fought to understand the strange situation he had found himself in. "I feel sad, whatever that means…but it feels right to be like that…I could cry…Dali…my darling Dali…she's gone!"

There were tears in his eyes and he hastily wiped them away as an overwhelming surge of grief threatened to consume him.

Martha knew he had said that his duties as Chief had prevented from him having attachments, but he must have had a family, because, whoever this Dali was, she sounded as if she was someone important to CoHarr, someone who he had loved and then lost. He had blocked her out, enabling him to forget her memory, but that had come rushing back as the Ofhorn flower worked its magic.

"What have you done to me?" he bellowed; worry reflecting in his eyes and voice.

Martha swallowed, filled with sorrow as she considered what she had done to him. The cure had changed him, but it had happened so suddenly that there was no way she could hide her true purpose from him anymore. "I've saved you from the darkness that has consumed your lives for so many years."

To be continued...

Please let me know what you think! Next chapter should be up shortly.

Until next time,

magic-doctor-writer