Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story so far!
This chapter is much shorter then my last one, but the next installment should follow soon.
Oblivion
Chapter 7
She didn't know where to start. Martha stood watching the rebuilding of the huts that had been devastated by the fire the Southerners had started and which had spread quickly throughout the village during the course of the battle. Over half the homes had been burnt to a cinder and the deaths of several talented men who had helped build the huts had been killed.
The most shocking of all was the unnecessary murder of the small girl Martha had strived to protect at the Doctor's behest. The girls body had been wrapped in a blanket and placed in the centre of the village where the warriors that had died were awaiting cremation. The girl was being given the highest honour – she had been taken cruelly from life and deserved, according to Kaza, the warrior's rite of passage into the next life. She had not even reached the age to show her true potential, which made her death even more tragic.
Someone laid a hand on her shoulder and Martha started. She turned around to find Kaza watching her sadly, his eyes filled with sorrow.
"Dreadful, isn't?"
"Yes," she answered, not knowing what to say. She had not liked seeing the little girls death – no one deserved that type of fate to befall them. She felt numb once more as she remembered the dreadful scene, and she shook herself to prevent her from falling into the abyss that would only come if she continued to look back. She had to keep a clear mind, otherwise she wouldn't be able to help these unfortunate people.
"Do you know what you are going to do yet?" asked Kaza, his eyes locked upon the young girl's body.
"I have an idea," she admitted. Folding her arms, she proceeded to tell the Chief her thoughts. "I believe you have the right to understand what the Doctor denied you before – knowledge of what he thinks is going on. When I woke earlier you said that the war could never end."
Kaza looked at her quizzically. He frowned as she scratched the back of his head. "I did. The Shaman explicitly stated that the Doctor was the one the prophecy spoke about."
Martha lowered her gaze, considering how to break the news that the Doctor considered the prophecy to mean her and not him and that it was all an elaborate scheme by the Shaman to confuse the enemy. "The Doctor doesn't believe that. He thinks the Shaman twisted his words and that I am the one the prophecy spoke about."
"You?" The Chief had an incredulous look on his face. To say that he was shocked was an understatement – he looked almost frightened that his people's fate was in the hands of a young girl and not the shining man in armour that the Doctor was sometimes seen to be. "How is that even possible?" he managed to gasp as his mind overturned facts in his head.
"I have no idea!" she laughed, but then she became sombre once more. "The Doctor says I have what it takes but I just don't know where to begin. The only thing that occurred to me was to speak to the Shaman again but I'd rather he came here then I go to him."
"Why is that?"
Martha began to walk back the way she had come, away from the girl's body, towards the hut she had shared with the Doctor. "There was darkness in the cave with us. The Doctor sensed its presence. The Shaman is tuned into the ethereal plane, isn't he?"
Kaza nodded.
"The Doctor thinks that he changed him and I around to confuse the darkness so that it would come for the wrong one of us, leaving the right one free. Perhaps that is what the Shaman does with each prophecy you've heard – he swaps the names around – but you haven't deciphered the prophecy in that way."
"That could be possible," the Chief mused. "After all I don't have this 'sense' that the Doctor has. Nor do we have the intelligence to interpret things the way he does."
"That's not true – you are intelligent."
Kaza waved her hand. "If I was, I would have considered that possibility a long time ago. My people are just one in millions that the Doctor has met, am I right?"
"Yes." Martha couldn't deny him that knowledge.
"He has the foresight to see things differently – to not take everything at face value, whereas I do."
She considered his words and remembered something he had said before. "You mentioned yesterday that you felt forgiveness after your father died of illness."
"Yes," replied Kaza slowly.
"You forgave the Gods, even though they were meant to protect him from that kind of death?"
He nodded.
"Do you hate the Southerners for killing that girl?"
"No," he shook his head, surprised by his answer.
"You don't feel that you need to hate them and have revenge for her death?"
Once again he said "No".
"Why is that?" probed Martha. It was a feeling in her stomach that told her that Kaza was different from anyone else on this planet – apart from the Shaman of course.
The Chief shrugged, unnerved by Martha's questions. He strolled a little in front of her, flexing his fingers behind his back, considering the question. Finally he settled for: "I don't know. I just learnt to forgive. This war is pointless and meaningless. We hate each other for something that happened thousands of years ago. I feel regret that we cannot get to know each other – understand one another. I can forgive the Southerners for their damage to my home and the pointless deaths they have caused because this war has lost its meaning," he turned back towards Martha, smiling sadly. "I seem to be the only person who feels like this. I'm an outcast within my own tribe, but only a select few know of my feelings. Everyone else just hate."
"I think I'm beginning to get the bigger picture," said Martha, rubbing her hand underneath her chin, biting her lip. "I need to consult with the Shaman."
"I will send a courier to retrieve him. I am sure he will accede to your request."
"Thanks."
As the Chief strolled off, Martha risked a glance back towards the girl's body. Two figures were kneeling over her, garbed in black robes. Even from this distance she could tell that they were not grieving – they were praying for the merciless death of their child's killer. No tears were falling, and even though she could not distinguish what they were saying, a feeling in her bones confirmed that they were inciting hatred against her killer. She knew she was right, when the crowd that had formed round the body of the girl, yelled retribution against the people that had taken her innocent life.
The darkness was pleased with the turn of events – he could feel it rattling in his bones. The murky darkness of his cave was aligned with all the prophecies he had ever predicted.
Today was different.
For the first time in years he had a victory.
Perhaps the war could end?
And the Shaman wondered what peace would be like on Maralus.
The darkness in his mind slowly lifted away as he became conscious of his surroundings. He could register the sounds of speech but was unable to decipher the words through the haziness that consumed his mind. Feeling was slowly coming back to him as the darkness retreated allowing him entrance into the waking world.
"He's stirring."
"Good – we can continue our journey without having to lug him along."
Journey? He felt confused.
The Doctor blinked his eyes rapidly as he finally opened them. He discovered that his hands were tied securely behind his back and his ankles and thighs were also tied with rope. Two people were standing over him; a man and a woman. It was still dark – barely a few hours since he had been taken – and his captor's features were undistinguishable in the dark.
"He doesn't look like much of a threat, dear sister," the man mused. "He's too skinny for starters."
"He isn't much of a threat, especially when he is at our mercy," the woman laughed. There was a hint of something insane reflecting in her eyes. "Our legacy can continue, and our master can thrive – the threat against him has been dealt with."
No it hasn't! The Doctor thought stubbornly. Martha is still out there! But of course they didn't know that. He had a duty to protect Martha from discovery if he didn't then her job would become a whole lot harder. He only hoped he could cope with whatever "their master" threw at him. He was jerked out his reverie as the woman grasped his hair and pulled his head back. Her fingernails scratched at his skull and he hissed in pain. A dagger was pressed against his throat and he wondered if they were going to kill him.
"My brother and I have a long journey ahead of us unfortunately we have to drag your worthless hide along with us."
"You could just let me go," suggested the Doctor, knowing that his response would irk his captors, as he tried to swallow around the dagger.
"Not an option – and neither is killing you either. Our master has expressed a desire to meet you and we will not disappoint him. You have a choice – obey our every command and you won't be harmed, but if you don't we will make sure you suffer. We can ensure that you spill all your darkest secrets and we could learn everything about you – if we tried. We could, if you want, resort to hurting your little female friend."
He couldn't risk Martha's safety by misbehaving.
"Understand?" the man replied.
"Yes," the Doctor said.
The man folded his arms. "Good. Aziel, untie him."
"Certainly, Arrein," the woman smiled. "You will move when spoken to."
Aziel released the grip she had on his hair and withdraw the dagger from his throat. She untied his ankles and thighs, followed by his wrists.
"Get up."
He did as he was ordered, facing the woman, making sure he made no sudden moves.
"Hold you hands out in front of you."
He placed his hands in front of him, and Aziel, with the rope that had been discarded after she had first untied him, began the process of twisting the rope around his wrists again. He winced as he found the rope was tight enough to cut off the circulation to his hands rendering them numb.
"You will walk forward and not talk unless requested to answer," snarled Arrein. "Remember if you do anything that we do not approve of…" he trailed off, moving round in front of the Doctor so that his captive could see his thumb stroking the tip of his dagger. The meaning was clear.
Aziel started to move off and began climbing the path that the Doctor recognised that led to the Shaman's cave. It was still quite dark, but daylight was fast approaching. He could sense a darkness probing his mind as he followed his captors, attempting to break through his defences he had constructed around his mind.
He swallowed, focusing his mind to concentrate upon the darkness that probed at his consciousness. This had happened before – when he had travelled up the mountain with Martha to visit the Shaman. From the moment he had started to ascend to the moment he had descended the mountain there had been the sense of something dark reaching out to him. He knew now that this was the darkness that held influence over Kaza's people.
Ascending past the Shaman's cave, the Doctor felt the darkness become stronger then it had been before, and he bit back a whimper of pain that threatened to come as the creature intensified its attacks on his mind.
"Master is talking to him, sister," mused Arrein.
"Excellent," the woman replied. "Master can learn how much harm he can do to us. Soon he will be one of us."
The Doctor barely registered their speech, so intent was he on the consciousness that was slowly delving deeper into his mind. No matter what defences he put up, he could not keep it back.
It was too strong to fight against.
And he had to wonder if getting himself captured had been the most sensible idea.
Nearly five hours after she had requested to meet the Shaman, Martha Jones found herself sitting cross-legged in the middle of her hut, eyes closed and humming to herself, as the Shaman sat in the same position in front of her – minus the humming, of course.
She didn't know what to say, so she waited while the Shaman meditated.
She had been sitting here like this for thirty minutes and though she was consumed with fear over the Doctor's fate she had the feeling that he was still alive and well. She opened her eyes to glance at the Shaman, who seemed to stir as her gaze met his closed eyes and he emerged, from what Martha assumed, was the ethereal plane that he had been roaming in spiritually.
"You wished to speak to me Martha Jones?"
She nodded and slid a hand through her hair which was now loose on her shoulders. "I do. I need to know…"
"Whether you are the one that the Prophecy refers to," interrupted the Shaman, his eyes shining with knowledge.
"Yes," said Martha. "The Doctor believes you switched us deliberately."
"I did," the old prophet confirmed. "It was only though the Doctor that I realised the enemy was watching us. It was invisible to me, but not so to your friend. The darkness was curious about you two, but more so of the Doctor then you. It knew that your friend sensed it. I can sense the presence of people in my cave, but meeting with you two I sensed three and I have never done so before. Your friend enabled me to sense the darkness that resided in my home – allowing me to figure out that I had been unintentionally betraying my people. I switched your names round and I think the Doctor got a sense of that. I can take myself to the ethereal plane, and your friend is a part of that too. He is telepathic and the gods talk to me through telepathic means. I managed to link with your friends mind, but it was well defended, yet he didn't sense me trying to invade."
"Why not?" Curiosity filled Martha.
"He was distracted by the darkness that had targeted his mind and was trying to figure out where this stemmed from."
Martha frowned. "When you linked briefly with the Doctor's mind you realised that the darkness was in the cave and could learn the identities of those that were a threat to it?"
"Yes, this is why I swapped your names round. If I hadn't risked that connection I would have unintentionally sealed your fate, but now my home as a chance. A chance of peace because I had the foresight to attempt a mental link with the Doctor that enabled me to sense the darkness in my cave."
"Are you the only one who is telepathic on this planet?" she asked, as an idea began to form in her head.
"We all are linked in some way, but I have the stronger connection then most which is what sets me apart from my kin."
Martha licked her lips, twiddling her fingers as she considered the idea that she was about to put forward. "If your people are telepathic, is it possible for emotions to be influenced though that link?"
"It is possible," the Shaman answered. "Yes, entirely possible. When I reach out to my kin I sense anger and the thirst for revenge; I have noticed, on occasion, that when someone dies or is hurt badly – the whole tribe flock together, united in anger and revenge. Their feelings ripple through me like a blade, scarring me inside."
"I think I know what could be going on," said Martha.
There was only one thing that bothered her – she needed the Doctor to tell her she was right, otherwise she felt unsure of her thought. Unfortunately he was far away from her – and she had to decide whether she had discovered what really was going on on this planet.
She was certain that it had something to do with the darkness being able to influence people's emotions. She just had to find out more.
To be continued...
Please let me know what you think!
I hope this didn't confuse anyone with the emotions and stuff.
Until next time,
magic-doctor-writer
