Here is the next chapter in my story! I hope it is worth the wait! Hopefully it isn't too confusing.


Nine

She was startled, upon entering the TARDIS, to find a slight feminine touch in her mind.

Hello Martha Jones.

The TARDIS was communicating with her – she had never done so before - but she had noticed since she had been travelling with the Time Lord that the Doctor had a telepathic link with his ship. Martha had realised that the Doctor and the TARDIS were connected in mind, and he was closer to her then he ever would be to Martha herself. She hadn't truly known how deep the connection with the TARDIS was to the Doctor until after he had dealt with the vile Family of Blood. During her time in 1913, serving as John Smith's maid, Martha had regularly visited the time ship to make sure she was safe and undiscovered. On several occasions Martha had said 'hello' and had felt a little nudge in her mind in reply, but she had never thought anything of it. She had dismissed it as her imagination and chosen to believe she was talking to a machine. She remembered calling the TARDIS that several times and Martha figured that the sentient being probably wouldn't have liked that. Once the Doctor had been restored, his ship had promptly told him of Martha's disregard of the TARDIS's feelings, but that information had enabled the Doctor to explain to his companion more about his connection to his ship and her capability to speak to others.

"Hello," she replied, feeling unsure what else to say. She bit her lip wondering if she should ask the question that had formed in her mind.

Go on…

At the ships urging, Martha made her way to the labs after asking where the labs were. One time she had been exploring the TARDIS on her own initiative and had got lost. Luckily she had stumbled across the Doctor in the labs experimenting on something he had picked up on one of their many journeys across the stars. The only thing was, Martha had absolutely no idea where the labs were but she knew there were some.

The TARDIS directed her, nudging her mind to let her know what the correct way was when she came to intersections in the ship. Eventually she came to the doors that led to the labs and she stepped inside. The labs were white, and cabinets aligned the walls. A large table sat in the middle with three Bunsen burners attached to one length of the table.

Upon the table sat a data-pad which she had seen the Doctor use on countless occasions. Grabbing it, Martha placed it in front of her and perched herself down on one of the stools that aligned the table. She lifted up the bag she had brought with her that held the fifteen Ofhorn plants and placed it upon the tabletop. She laid the samples out on the clean tabletop and hunted round for three small clear tubes, a knife and a small micro-scope.

With the equipment ready in front of her, Martha collected herself and began to work, first by scanning the flower with the Sonic Screwdriver once more and then plugging the device into the data-pad, upon which the data that she needed materialised on the screen, listing all the details she needed to know.

The data that she collected showed the properties of the plant and what it was made of. She was quite surprised to learn that the plant held a little bit of Aspirin in the centre of the stem, which made it poisonous to Time Lords, which was why it was fatal to the Doctor and not to Kaza. Why a plant was made of Aspirin she had no idea and her scan of the plant failed to provide any concrete answers.

She hadn't noticed before but the plant, down the stem had tiny nettles that when touched oozed honey. The compounds and properties of the plant were so alien to Martha that she was struggling to comprehend how a plant could be a poison and a cure at the same-time. Ofhorn had succeeded in having properties that were impossible. Aspirin and honey was not something that you would be advised to take together. Martha came to the conclusion that the plant was a herbal remedy and the combination of so many differing ingredients was the cause of why the plant was so unique and helped Kaza push back the anger that had held him in its grip for so long.

In simpler terms it was a medicine and that it was a soothing one that enabled the darkness to be pushed back away from the people that took it. The darkness that the creature commanded blocked out the emotions that the people of Maralus could no longer connect with, such as love and grief. Upon eating the Ofhorn flower, Kaza had unintentionally beaten the block and the pent up emotions and swarmed through, allowing the Chief to experience grief, sadness and forgiveness: all the feelings that the creature had prevented them from feeling. It seemed that the darkness needed feelings of anger and revenge to survive and the way to defeat it and free the people was to release the 'captured' emotions of happiness, sadness and forgiveness by getting them to eat the plant.

All Martha Jones had to do now was convince the people of Kaza's tribe to eat the Ofhorn flower, but first she would have to test it upon someone else first to prove her theory correct. She needed to discover if the flower really was the solution to the problems that were continuing to plague the people. She still had to speak to the dead girl's parents. Yesterday when she had spoken to them, they had decided to meet up after they had finished with their praying by their daughter's side however that hadn't come to pass due to Martha's walk with Kaza, the finding of the Ofhorn flower and discovering that the Sonic Screwdriver was completely useless unless she had a data-pad handy.

The ultimate test would be to see if the flower enabled the girl's parents to grieve and forgive her killers. The darkness pressing on their minds, urging them to hate should have less influence upon them. She just had to get them to eat it without raising their suspicions.

I can do that, I think.


The Doctor woke form the oblivion that he had been drifting in since the darkness had consumed him, to discover that he was leaning, slumped against a wall. It was dark and just a little bit chilly. He was no longer in the outside world, but (from what he could tell in the dreary light) secluded in passages within the mountain that he and his captors had been ascending when he had fallen unconscious.

His wrists were still tied in front of him. He looked around trying to determine whether he was alone. Deciding that he was the Doctor lifted his bound wrists to his mouth and began to gnaw upon the rope. He knew his situation could only get worse if his captors returned to him and he ought to take advantage of their absence to attempt to escape.

You think you can escape?

The Doctor stilled; the hairs on the back of his neck rose. He swallowed, hoping that he had imagined the cruel voice in his mind.

I am not of your imagination.

"I was afraid you would say that," replied the Doctor, still biting at the ropes, knowing that it was a futile attempt. "What do you want from me?"

I want you to break and serve me, exactly like I have done with all the other prophesised ones. You may be different, but it is a challenge that I will not easily give up on. You are, in comparison, quite weak to all the others.

"I am stronger then you give me credit for," he hissed in return.

Yes I know, but you are still weak, even with all those mental barriers constructed around that pitiful brain of yours. However I know your weakness.

"I have no weakness," spat The Doctor.

Are you so sure of that? The creature slyly asked.

In his mind's eye the Doctor could see the creature grinning at him, a cruel smile pulling at its features. He wished he knew what it looked like but he wasn't in the physical presence of the beast and he doubted he ever would be.

"Yes."

Yet your defences weaken when you dwell upon a certain Martha Jones…

The Doctor's hearts stilled, but he swallowed the fear that had built up in his chest and muttered: "Your threats are meaningless."

We'll see about that.

And then the pain descended once more upon his already battered mind.


The stood, leaning back against the back of the cave, eagerly waiting for their next instructions. Aziel grinned toothily at her brother, relishing the screams that were coming from their prisoner.

"He is quite strong for someone so skinny as him," she cocked her head to the side, scrutinising the writhing form of the Doctor that lay ten feet in front of them. "Normally they would be beginning for mercy by now – perhaps harming the girl is the next best option. If isn't breaking then we must move onto stage two."

Arrein scratched his chin, frowning. "You are probably right, but it is not a good idea to act without our master's backing. The girl will help us break him – the pain factor doesn't seem to be working as effectively as it should do."

"The anger approach?" suggested Aziel.

"No, he seems to be in control of that," dismissed Arrein. "Our master cannot grow stronger with this Doctor's emotions, but it is essential to our success to ensure that he breaks and cannot do any further harm if we decide to release him."

"Then we should just kill him. If he isn't able to aid us then his death will not matter. Releasing him is not an option, even if we do break him." Aziel folded her arms, stepping to where the Doctor lay, trembling in pain, muttering in an undecipherable tongue.

He is not of this world. He was born on another planet, which is why he is a tougher opponent then your people.

"What of the girl?"

Alien same as him but she is from another civilisation.

They knew of outsiders to their world, for the creature itself had originated from the stars however they had not met an alien face to face before.

"What species is he?" asked Aziel, intrigued by this information.

I do not know, came the reply. He hides his identity well. But I do know one thing about him. This girl, this Martha Jones is his weakness. You need to bring her to me; her dying screams in front of him, will serve as his breaking point.

The two siblings smiling down at the twitching form of the Doctor, know full well that their master would break him and use him against the people he had been prophesised to save. All it required was the death of Martha Jones.


Miss Jones will shortly be joining us.

The Doctor drew a ragged breath as the world of consciousness flared into existence once more.

"No," he muttered, "leave her alone."

Why should I? Both of you pose a threat to me? Why should I allow her to live?

"Because she is a nobody." He hated describing the wonderful medical student like that, but it was the only way to convince the entity that Martha meant nothing to him, when in fact she was his wholeworld. Martha was an incredible person, taking everything in her stride and willing to do anything for him despite the circumstances they found themselves in. He had been extremely proud of Martha's ability to adapt to 1913 – he knew deep down that the biggest reason for his companion's will to aid him whatever way she could was down to the fact that she loved him.

Just like Rose.

He could not deny the fact that he had led her on, because he had. The genetic transfer had been a risky tactic to use, but it had been the only thing he could do in the circumstances they had been in. If he had known in advance what the affect would be in upon her he wouldn't have risked it, he would have thought of something else. The Doctor closed his eyes sighing audibly. He had denied Rose his love, and it had hurt to do so. Martha, like Rose Tyler, had crawled her way into the hole that had been left behind by the deaths of the Time Lords. Both of them had succeeded in filling his heart with joy.

If I survive this I'll set things right. Martha deserves that much. I'll tell her how much she means to me.

Ever since inviting the doctor to be on board the TARDIS, the Doctor had constantly been pushing her away, to prevent her from becoming as close as he had been with Rose. Ironically she had succeeded without him noticing and to make him feel worse, he had been making her feel unwanted, especially with his constants mentions of how Rose would have done things differently. Yet both of his girls were equal – Martha shouldn't feel like that she should live up to the name of a ghost, a person who he would never see again. He had missed out on telling Rose how much she meant to him, but he had a second chance with Martha. If he got out of here, the first thing he would do was ensure that Martha Jones no longer felt like 'just a companion' to him, but a close friend, just like Rose Tyler had been.

Collecting his thoughts together, the Doctor mustered himself, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before the pain returned to consume him once again.


Martha sat cross-legged in front of Arka and Myza, the parents of the girl she had failed to save when the Southerners had attacked the camp and captured the Doctor. The Ofhorn flower was piled in a small bowl, but next to that were two wooden shaped cups which were filled with water mixed with some mashed Ofhorn flowers. The bowl and cups were stacked upon a small wooden table. If the parents didn't adhere to eating the flower, Martha hoped that they would try the drink (which had been concocted by the Shaman when she had explained the relevance of the flower and Kaza's changing emotions due to munching on the plant). The Shaman had agreed with the conclusion that the Ofhorn flower was the cure. She didn't know how distributing the cure would affect the creature's influence on the people, however she hoped that it would weaken it enough.

The creature fed on the anger, hatred and revenge emotions that the people dwelled upon. The more the population dwelled on them, the stronger the creature got. Suppressing those emotions through eating the Ofhorn flower would hopefully enable the people of the planet, Maralus, to lead a harmonious and peaceful existence with each other.

"You said you would like to talk to us about our little girl?" said Arka, the father of the child Martha hadn't protected to the best of her ability.

"I do," she laid her hands in her lap and began to speak, slowly and carefully. "Your daughter ran out in an attempt to harm those that had killed her father – hold on," she pointed to Arka, "you are her father, aren't you?"

"Yes," the man answered. He drew up his shirt, revealing a large gash in his side which appeared to be recent. "I was injured in the battle. Ally was with me at the time – she thought I was dying, I didn't dispute it, but I survived. She never got the chance to see that I still lived."

"Did you tell her to get to safety?" questioned Martha.

Arka shook his head, a proud look reflecting on his features. "I told her to seek revenge. Fight on my behalf. I have no son to pass on my legacy. Any sensible parent would do that."

She was completely astounded by the father's admission, and that he seemed quite proud that his daughter had died because he had instructed her to seek revenge. She was a near breadth away from shouting at him, but she restrained the anger that had built up inside her and instead took a controlled, deep breath.

"It is our tradition to teach our children to be like that – Ally was a model child. A grown up before her time. If Ally had run away then her death would have been meaningless, but she did the brave thing and died fighting for revenge. She channelled her anger exactly how we taught her to and we are proud to have reared a child like that: someone who did not shy from duty when it called for her."

"But she was a child! A little girl with her whole life ahead of her," explained Martha. She knew revulsion was etched on her face and she wondered how Kaza could condone any action that led to the end of a child's life for something so meaningless.

"Despite the fact that we are proud of her, the people who took her life should pay for what they did. They should know that killing a child is wrong. They deserve death themselves. We deserve to have revenge against them."

Martha shook her head, finding their logic hard to grasp. She understood that the people promoted hatred of their enemies to the degree that sending your child out to fight in your place was common, but the oddest thing was that they seemed to condemn their enemy's actions in killing a child. From her own reckoning she figured that it was alright for a child to murder someone, but it was not alright for the enemy to protect themselves against their attackers. In Arka and Myza's eyes, their daughter's killers should have let her kill them. They didn't seem to consider that they operated under the same rules. Yet Martha was certain the girl had been singled out because she had been an easier target. Despite all that, Martha Jones still felt incredibly guilty that she hadn't saved the little girl when she had had the chance.

"It is still my fault," she said. "My friend, the Doctor, told me to protect your daughter – take her back to you – since the villager's attackers were after my friend, but I failed to save your daughter. Ally died as a result of my actions. I tried my best to keep her out of harms way, but she struggled in an effort to fight, despite being pursued by the enemy. Ally did everything in her power to hurt those she hated in anyway she could."

"Ally acted according to what she was taught – to fight whenever she could, to follow instructions and to know that dying in battle was the most honourable death that could befall someone. Her killers must pay for taking her life." Their tone was monotone and the words sounded well practised, as if it was something the couple recited everyday.

Figuring that she wouldn't get anywhere, Martha decided to put her plan into action. Reaching for the bowl of Ofhorn flowers, she offered the two a snack. It had occurred to her that eating was probably not on their minds, however Arka and Myza surprised her by being quite inquisitive about the food she was offering.

"What is it?" asked Myza, a suspicious glance on her face as she eyes the flower.

"A healthy snack," said Martha, carefully putting a smile on her face. "It will help you."

"Where is it from?"

"It originates from my own home world – it is very nutritious," explained Martha. There was one thing that she hated doing and that was lying, however the Shaman had suggested this tactic as the best option she had. If she told them that the flower came from the forest, the couple's suspicions would be raised and they would refuse to touch it, in case the flower had been poisoned by the enemy. It was essential for the two to eat it, so that Martha could assess whether the flower had been the reason behind Kaza's retuning 'lost' emotions.

Attentively, Arka reached forward and plucked one of the Ofhorn flowers from the bowl and gingerly took a small bite. His wife watched him, apprehension evident on her face. He gave her a small nod, upon which Myza picked up another flower and took her own bite. They both munched slowly on the unknown substance. Martha watched the two's expressions chance as they continued to sample the flower. They were half-way through the bowl when Martha decided to attempt the next stage of her plan.

"How do you feel about Ally's murder now?" It was the only question that Martha could think of that would bring results. She ensured that her voice was soft and filled with sadness.

There was a moment's silence and then, "I feel anger, and yet sad…I've never felt like this before. The word 'sad' rolls off my tongue as if it is a common word but I have never used it in my life before."

"You are weeping," said Martha, leaning forward and gently patting her arm. She could see tears falling down both their cheeks. "You are crying for the daughter that you have lost and will never see again. Little Ally will never have the chance to grow up and make something of herself."

Arka wrapped an arm around Myza, pulling her close so that her head rested upon his shoulder. He was shaking uncontrollably, even as his tears dripped from his chin and onto his knee. There was utter sadness in his eyes. "Ally was such a beautiful little girl. She didn't deserve to die in battle…I was foolish and arrogant to think that she would be spared by the enemy due to her innocence. I love her…" the word sounded foreign on his tongue but he seemed to know the meaning of it clearly. "I loved her and I'll never get the chance to say it to her face, to explain how much she meant to me."

Myza continued, her voice shaking and the words coming out amongst the sobs. "I regret teaching her the value of hatred and how death in battle was honourable – but it isn't. Oh god," she grabbed Arka's hand, clenching it tightly, "I killed our daughter. I threw her life away as if she didn't mean anything to me."

Before Arka could speak once more, Martha decided it would be best if she intervened. "You didn't. Your daughter lived her life to the full, following the traditions that you imposed upon her. You are only just realising the mistake you have made and the guilt that you have will not go away unless you accept that it wasn't your fault."

"How was it not our fault?" blazed Arka, whose anger suddenly came out. He spat at Martha, not caring if his saliva hit her on the cheek. She made no move to wipe it away.

Keeping a stubborn looking on her face, Martha said: "Something was influencing you, controlling your feelings. It has cut off your ability to love, forgive, feel sadness – the only things you ever felt were anger, hatred and revenge."

"What has made us feel all these new things at once?"

"Me," whispered Martha. "The plant you just ate. It didn't originate from my home – it comes from the forest just outside of this tribe. The plant is called Ofhorn. Something was preventing you from feeling all the proper human emotions, and it was feeding off those that it let you keep. The more anger you felt, the stronger it gets. Your chief, Kaza, is not like you is he? He doesn't promote revenge, does he?"

Myza shook her tear-stained face.

"Kaza has been devouring this plant for years. It has unlocked the emotions that were forcibly held back while the darker emotions took control. Ofhorn is the cure, and the way to secure peace on your world."

"What made us like this in the first place? Why has it taken away part of our humanity?" demanded Arka, his eyes filled with sorrow and anger. "I want answers."

"There is a creature that feeds on the emotions of anger, hatred and revenge. The more people that feel these things on a regular basis, the stronger this creature gets; the less control you have over your own destiny. Break its power at its source, which is you lot and the influence will fade to a point so that it doesn't harm or threaten you. I know this must be difficult to take in, but it is the only way for your people to be free."

Myza's eyes darkened and Martha shivered as she realised immense hatred was building up inside the one-time mother. "This creature," she spat, "is responsible for polluting our daughter's mind so that it could survive. It must pay: plain and simple."

"No," said Martha, moving forward to grasp the woman's wrists as her hands made a fist. "Remember your hatred feeds it, makes it stronger. You cannot hate it; only neglect giving it what it desires most: your anger, hatred and fear."

"But that is impossible," whispered Arka. His shoulders were sagged in defeat.

"I will think of something," promised Martha. To add emphasis to her words, she said forcefully: "It is my duty and destiny to do this. It has been prophesised by the Shaman, and I will do my utmost best to succeed in anyway possible. Nothing is impossible."


I've lost two of them…

The admission heartened the Doctor and he briefly wondered why the creature had admitted that so freely. To unnerve him perhaps? The presence of the creature was still imbued to his mind, however he sensed that it was in shock and doubting the power it held over the people of the planet. He decided to take a risk and question his captor, knowing that he had to get information otherwise he would remain in the dark and not understand the significance of what was going on.

"Who have you lost?"

People who are essential to my survival…the first ones are falling to the light; others will follow in their steps. It is due to your friend…your Martha Jones.

He felt surprise register from the creature, as if he was only just working things out. The Doctor began to feel fear in the pit of his stomach.

She is the prophesised one. The Shaman tricked me into believing it was you, when all along it was her. So that is what you were protecting in that insignificant little mind of yours.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," shrugged the Doctor, trying his best to sound confused about what the creature was telling him.

You knew, you had worked it out and you willingly gave yourself to me. How foolish of you – I have the leverage I need to control her. I can still survive. Martha Jones will step aside for my victory or she will watch as you die a slow and painful death.

"That won't stop her," he growled in return.

You carry on believing that, the creature laughed softly in his mind. I already know that she will do exactly as I say. What is that old saying? I will be killing two birds with one stone. Jones will not risk your death – she cares about you too much – as you do her.

Without warning, the Doctor felt an immense pressure on his brain. Then he yelled an agonised screech as pain swept through every inch of his body. Then everything went black as the blindfold of oblivion descended upon him once more.

To be continued...


Please let me know what you think! The next chapter is practically complete, so it should be available come December 28th!

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far!

Have a good Christmas, and if you are able to, enjoy watching Voyage of the Damned!

magic-doctor-writer