Chapter Fifteen
"Telepathic connection, interesting; how does that work?" Ten asked.
"I was blessed by The Wordsmith," the dragon who stood above the group replied.
"How did they bless you?" Ten asked.
"Magic," the dragon explained simply. The Doctor scoffed.
"That's not logical at all," complained Sherlock.
"Sherlock, name one thing that has been logical today," retorted John. Sherlock turned to face John. He stared at him right in the face.
"You, you are my only logical thing."
"You two are so cheesy," scoffed Donna. Sherlock and John glared at her. The dragon laughed a deep, rolling, thundering laugh.
"Where is The Wordsmith?" asked River Song.
"Coming, The Great One wished to dress properly," replied the dragon.
"Do you have a name?" Rose asked the dragon.
"Logan."
"Logan? That's you're real name?"
"Yes, you seem surprised."
"I am. I figured you'd have a more fantastical name like in fairy tales or novels."
"Novels are not realistic; the author is the only part of the story that is real. Read your favorite book. Deep in between those lines, those metaphors they use, that is a piece of their soul shining through."
"That was deep, even for me," muttered Eleven.
"Donna," said Ten out of the blue.
"Ah, yes. The Great One didn't mention her on the wall," replied Logan.
"Is she here on accident?"
"No. The Great One will explain her purpose soon enough."
"How did this 'Great One' activate the particles in her?" asked Eleven.
"What particles?!" exclaimed Donna.
"You'll find out," snapped Eleven at Donna.
"Again, The Great One will explain."
"Where is The Great One?" asked River.
"You're familiar with The Great One. You've met before. I can feel it," replied Logan. River was silent. No one knew but her, Logan and The Wordsmith knew that story. "She is in the library, waiting," Logan answered River.
"Waiting for what?"
"She waits for the right moment."
"And that's my cue!" exclaimed a bright, female voice from above. They looked to the banister. There was only a silhouette of a woman, if it was even a woman.
"Hello again," River said.
"Hello, old friend; my condolences."
"For what, dare I ask?"
"I offer my sincerest condolences for your lost childhood, your love, your mind, and your nature. You have lost so much and I understand."
"May I interrupt?" asked Eleven.
"Of course, sweetie," replied River.
"Wordsmith, what is that?" Eleven asked The Wordsmith.
"It is my name, my race, my species, my people. I am the last, so I bear their name as a humble eulogy of sorts."
"Ah, is it traditional?"
"No, no one told me to, they couldn't have. I was left on earth while they burned."
"Yeah, got that, why is miss sassy hair transport girl here?" asked Nine rudely.
"Ah yes… you'll forget this so I guess I can tell you. The Eleventh would know. Donna Noble is the most important woman in the universe," replied The Wordsmith. Nine and Ten just stared at her. Nine scrunched up his face and gestured behind him to her with his thumb as if to say, her? The Wordsmith laughed.
"Yes, Doctor, her," she chuckled.
"How were you pulling my TARDIS?" asked Ten.
"With the right words, of course. But, also I can enter any consciousness and speak to it and a TARDIS has a consciousness so I entered it and spoke to her. She knows a lot about you, Doctor. More than you know yourself," she stopped and considered what she should say next. If she should say it at all. She spoke again cautiously, "She said something about a fall, it just slipped out of her, but it seemed important," she turned to Eleven, "Doctor, I would be wary, as well as you, Sherlock."
"Spoilers!" snapped River.
"I am sorry Melody, but she was sobbing as she whispered these words: The fall of the Eleventh and the Reichenbach Hero."
"Fall of the Eleventh?" River asked.
"You don't know about that do you?"
"Not yet."
"It's coming, sweetie," The Wordsmith teased with River's term of endearment.
"What's coming?" asked Eleven.
"The fall."
Anybody heard the theory that's bouncing around Tumblr about "Geronimo" and "The FALL of the Eleventh." ? I'm incorporating that in here. Enjoy!