His father was shouting loudly at someone, "Do I really have to do that?"

This someone said something, and the shouting became even louder.

The boy got out of the bed and went to the window. Two suns shined brightly outside, pouring orange light everywhere they could reach. He saw kids playing, adults watching them or simply strolling in a morning walk. He could've been there too, but he couldn't think about anything but his eighth birthday, which was coming soon.

He wasn't scared of the time vortex. His father, however, was terrified, and didn't even try to hide that. He spent countless nights awake, thinking, drawing something, writing page after page, reading long books. Even though the boy couldn't have been sure about that, it seemed that his father was trying to find a way to avoid the visit to the time vortex, to the Untempered Schism.

"I am not scared of going there," he told his father as he had noticed him reading the book entitled "What does Time Vortex actually do?".

The father put the book away, hid his face in his hands and then looked at his son. "I know you're not scared, and you really shouldn't be."

"Why are you reading all these books then?" the boy asked, puzzled, as he glanced on the titles of the other books which were there: "The science behind Time Vortex", "Questions about Time Vortex (with Answers)", "Unlocking Time Vortex".

"I—" his father stumped. After a pause he finally said, "There is something I want to prevent."

"What is it?"

"I don't even know," his father replied fast. "You have heard that there were cases when kids lost their minds after looking into the vortex?" The boy nodded, and he continued, "I just want to know what usually happens, what can go wrong, but…"

"What?"

"Go to sleep."

The boy wanted to stay, to argue, but he suddenly realised that he had never seen his father so tired before.

On the next day he asked, "What has happened to you when you looked into the vortex?"

His father raised the right hand to his eyes and slowly stated, "I can't tell you. I wouldn't tell you even if I could. This is something you should find out entirely on your own."

"But what if that could help preventing that something. That thing that you don't want to happen. What if that would help?"

"Even if it would I can't risk here. And I don't want to talk about that anymore."

"But—"

"Have you heard me?"

Even though the boy wanted to continue talking about the upcoming visit to the vortex just to let his father know that he really wasn't scared, he backed off.

And as he looked from the window while his father was shouting at someone, "Why can't I know that, he's my son, after all!", he realised that something has changed.

Now he was scared. But he dreaded showing his fear to his father even more, so he decided to keep silent about his eighth birthday altogether.

His father entered the room, furious. "Pack your things, we're going to the Academy. Don't," he said, as he noticed a silent question on the boy's face, "don't ask anything, just pack some clothes and go, we don't have much time left."

"But I thought we always have more than enough time," blurted the boy.

His father stared at him for a moment which seemed to have lasted much longer than it actually did. "Not this time. Now hurry up."

The road to the Academy wasn't short, but the boy and the father weren't talking. One was just looking at the orange sky, the other buried his face in his hands. Once in a while the boy looked at his father in wonder. He had never seen him so exhausted, given that he had to raise him on his own. His father lived alone as long as the boy could remember. There were not many guests in their house, definitely no women among them, but his father has always seemed to be content with this. Or has he?

The boy suddenly thought about something he couldn't even explain. He could only ask, "Dad, have you ever been happy after Mom has died?"

The father lifted up his head immediately, eyes widened. "Sure I was. I am happy. Why do you even ask?"

His son shrugged. "You look too sad. And you really think too much about me going to the vortex."

"Every Time Lord thinks too much about their child going to the vortex."

The boy leapt to his father. "But I think you worry even more than Time Lords usually do. Remember our neighbours? I never noticed the parents with these weird books that you have."

His father held him tight, not answering anything. They spent the following part of the journey to the Academy in silence.

As they arrived to the ancient building, the father crouched and looked into his son's eyes. "They're going to perform a medical examination I asked for. They won't let me in, so I will have to go now, but I will pick you up and bring you to the vortex. Alright?"

"Why do I need a medical examination? The neighbours said it's not necessary."

"I think it's necessary," said a voice from behind the boy. The man in the golden coat went down a few steps and faced both newcomers. "Yeah, I take care of him. I think it's us who will take him to the Untempered Schism, though." The father tried to protest, but the man laid his hand to the boy's shoulder and whispered "You owe me enough already, my friend. You know very well why I have to do that and why can't you be there."

"He's my son—"

"And that's just one reason more to stay away. It's not worth the risk. And I promise you I will do everything to keep him safe. Do you hear me,—" he whispered the rest into the father's ear. The boy watched his father's face twist with bitter astonishment, as he took a few steps down from him.

"Why does he have to go?" he challenged the man in the golden coat

"I'm sorry, dear, this is too long a story to even begin to tell. Now go and say your goodbyes."

The boy wanted to come down, but his father ran up faster. He lifted his son high in the air, held him tightly and whispered something that he couldn't hear. As the boy stood firmly, he turned around and went away fast without looking back.

"What has he said?" the boy asked the man.

"You're the master of your own life." He reached out his hand and as the boy took it, he lead him into the Academy. "Maybe one day you will study here, like your father… did."

The boy was looking around in wonder. Nearly everyone was wearing long clothes like coats or cloaks. They were of different colours, and not much people wore golden clothing, like the boy's guide did.

They've arrived to a bright big room full of strange instruments. Some of them looked so ancient one was afraid to breath in their direction, some, on the other hand, were new, as if they've just been manufactured.

"We don't have much time, kid, and most of these things require you to sit completely still. I think it would be better if you just sleep as I examine you. Do you need help with that?"

The boy nodded, and the man laid his hand on the boy's forehead. He fell asleep almost that instant, and the man caught him before he would fell on the black floor.

The boy awoke in a small dark room to find the man watching him. He changed his golden coat to a simple black one. He said as he handed him clothes "You have to wear this when you approach the Untempered Schism."

"Is everything alright with me?" the boy demanded, remembering the countless nights his father had spent awake.

The man looked away for a moment and then turned his gaze right at the boy's face as he confessed, "I don't really know. But not a single instrument at the Academy's possession could pick up anything out of ordinary. That should be reassuring"— the strange smile twisted his lips— "but our knowledge is not infinite."

"I am afraid," murmured the boy, unable to stop thinking about his father.

"Really?" the man confronted him. "Your father told me quite the opposite, he said that you're the bravest kid he had ever met. Ah"— he chuckled— "which father wouldn't say that about his child. I know one thing, kiddo, and this is that you shouldn't be scared of something you can't prevent. You have to go and look into the time vortex, and it's better to face it with courage, as the drums beat in tact with your marching steps. Shall we go?"

The boy nodded.

"Then get dressed and follow me."

They probably didn't have much time yet again, but they were walking on the dark streets slowly and in silence. A few other men led their kids in the same way, and the boy was wondering if all the kids dressed like him were born in the same day that he was. He kept looking in different directions and once or twice he thought that he saw his father hiding behind the trees. But the closer to the destination he was, the less he thought about anything but the time vortex.

The Untempered Schism. The place that no one needed to guide from curious eyes. The place when every child had spent his eighth birthday. As the boy saw it from a far distance, one girl looked into the vortex and ran away, her screams pierced the night's silence.

"I can't go any further," said the man.

The boy glanced at him and let go of his hand. He thought that he saw his father in the trees behind the man, but seconds passed to reveal no one who'd be standing there.

He turned away and marched to the Untempered Schism, trying to think about the armies and great warriors in tales his father told him. Or was it his mother, whose face he couldn't remember even now?

He stopped in front of the vortex and moved his gaze from the ground into the hole.

First his mind went blank.

And then the drumming began.