Children Of Time

Keeper's POV:

The Doctor looked at me with a face that seemed to be mixed with confusion and terror. "What do you mean?" He asked playing dumb. I began to circle around him as I placed my thoughts in order.

"When I pressed the button to destroy the Legion. The blast somehow brought back some of my memories back." I said to him. I could tell that some of my memories, but not all of them had been restored. Stuff like my name and my childhood had appeared to me while I was unconscious. I also received bit's and pieces of my memories from my adult hood but from what I could make of it, those memories weren't as important as the others. The Doctor looked at me with a look that told me to explain to him about how much I could remember.

***

The only sound in the room was the almost ceaseless scratch of a quill pen across a sheet of curling parchment.

The pen was lifted, dipped into a fine silver inkwell and returned to its labors with a neat economy of movement; the writer, meanwhile, had barely averted my focused gaze from the parchment all the while. I traced out another neat circle and began to fill it with letters, my breathing slow and steady. As I worked, a tiny smile began to crease the corner of my mouth as I imagined what my tutors would say if they could see me. Gallopfreyan was a pure language, they said. The oldest and purest in the universe. Corrupting it in this way would cause no end of white faces and gasps of horror amongst the Academy faculty.

"What are you doing?"

"Writing, Sasani," I said, casting the briefest sideways glance at my friend, now slouching in the doorway to their apartment. "I would have thought that much was obvious."

"Don't call me that, please. I respect your title even if I fail to understand it. The least you can do is respect mine." He emerged at last from the shadows of the arched doorway and moved over to the window, standing to one side to keep the brilliant sunlight out of his eyes, staring out over the forest as it shimmered in the light of second sunrise. Sasani, also known as The Reaper, was my closest friend. He was the only person in the entire universe that I trusted with my life. He chose the nickname Reaper because it would place fear within the hearts of his enemies and give him the respect that he always wanted. My title was the Vanguard, a name that was actually given to me by Reaper, when we were making these silly titles. You see, as children we were inspired by stories of The Doctor and The Master. The Doctor was my idol, I wanted grow and be just like him, because by the time of my birth The Doctor and The master were already dead. The Universe was desperatly in need of another hero, so I took it upon myself to take up the Doctors Role as a Hero.

"I'm sorry," I said, setting the quill aside with exaggerated care and turning in my chair to study my friend with slight but perfectly serious curiosity. "Reaper. You know, I've been meaning to ask you why –" I went on, but Reaper raised a hoof to quell me.

"Ask all you will," he said, archly. "I don't plan to discuss it. It's not personal, you understand," he added, his imperious expression softening somewhat as he broke into an unfamiliar smile that bore the faintest hint of sufferance. "My parents questioned me as well, after the ceremony. They're not happy."

"It's not their business to ask you about your title, and the Academy will support you in that." I sighed, and pushed the parchment aside and rose from my chair. I joined my friend at the open window, and the breeze very briefly stirred my fine blond hair across my cheek.

"You asked me," said the Reaper, a trifle reproachfully.

I waved an airy hand. "That's different," I said. "For one thing, I'm your friend, not your father. For another, I'm nosy." I stopped and chuckled, but sobered again at once as I saw that the Reaper was in no mood for levity, no matter how affectionately intended. "Look," I went on, changing tack, "I'm not going to stand here and act like I care about what goes on in your life, but I do know enough of it to know that your parents will come to terms with your choices in life, I'm sure of it."

"That's all very easy for you to say," the Reaper said with a one-sided shrug, and then, as if this gesture of irritation had not served him well enough, he scowled as well. "Your parents are just as unorthodox as you, if not more so. I hear your mother's been arguing with the Castellan over your term of service yet again, and your father can't seem to stay away from that silly little backwater planet, that...what is it called, again? You know...that Planet The Doctor loved so much."

"It's called Earth," I said, evenly, linking my hooves behind my back, my peaceful smile broadening a notch.

"Savages," my friend replied bluntly, and then stepped over to the desk and picked up the fruits of the my work with his unicorn magic. "Is this what he brought back for you? Ancient writing technology? Really, my friend, you might as well be chiseling away at a slab of granite." He paused, and then subjected the writing on the parchment to closer scrutiny, his brows knotting in disbelief. "And if the Docent sees this, you'll be in correction for the rest of the term. Adulterating Gallopfreyan with equestrian language?"

"Merely an exercise," I said, taking back my property with one smooth movement and rolling up the parchment between mouth. "I wanted to see if the two could be effectively combined while still maintaining coherent grammar and clause structure. Besides, it's a remarkably pretty language, don't you think? It's called Latin. Father says the ponies are developing some quite sophisticated cultures now."

"Sophisticated!" the Reaper cried, scornfully. "From what I hear, their chief hobby is shooting one another full of arrows and lances. I'm surprised they find the time to write anything once they've cleared away the bodies and washed the blood out of their clothes."

"Well," I said, a mote of annoyance creeping into my tone, "if you've quite finished exerting your moral superiority over a fledgling species, isn't it about time we were going? Relative Time Theory and Practice in fifteen minutes. Hopefully, this time it won't just be the former," I added, a gleam in my eye. "I'm keen to get my hands on a real TARDIS, aren't you?"

"No, not especially, considering the number of restrictions placed upon their use," said the Reaper, fetching his mantle from its hook and fastening it around his narrow shoulders. "Has it ever occurred to you just how much power the Time Lords waste merely watching time, when they could be making use of it? The entire universe can be ours, if we just apply a little effort and...time."

"Making use?" I echoed, hiking one eyebrow as he spoke. "You know, sometimes you worry me with your use of language."

The Reaper gave me a perfectly serene smile, which for some reason sent a chill up my spine. "And your tendency to be naive makes me worry about you.. "