Chris and the Wizard

The Wizard and I

Chris Campbell walked up to the high meadow that overlooked the PyramidValley. He looked up at the pale blue sky with the two moons hanging in it like jewels, one white, one red. He looked the other way towards the ruined temple on the distant hill. He looked down to the village and in another direction to the fields where many of the SangC’lune people and a lot of his own students alongside them were working to bring in their harvest. He closed his eyes and let the background psyche of the blessed planet envelop him.

He opened his eyes and looked around at the meadow. His imagination built walls on it - walls of glittering white stone, decorated with symbols of peace. He saw it clearly. A duplicate of his Sanctuary at home in London. The vision was so easy to create because he knew it would happen in the future. This was where his second Sanctuary would be. Not yet, not even in the immediate future, to be sure. He needed more of his students to become masters. He needed enough of them who were dedicated to his philosophy to commit themselves to living on this planet, so far from their home and families. It would take a while. Maybe ten or twenty years before they even dug the foundations. But it would happen. He knew it would.

In the meantime, he could bring his students once a month or so to SangC’lune. They loved it here. Most of them had friends among the community. They had been accepted by the people during their exile and they kept up those friendships.

For that matter, he thought some of them might have gone beyond friendship to something deeper and more permanent. He smiled softly to himself as he considered that. He, himself, had made a vow of chastity, and almost broke it when he fell in love with a SangC’lune girl. He looked across to the temple again, where her grave was. He allowed himself a moment of remembrance of the tender kisses and caresses of his one brief love affair. He had renewed his vow afterwards. He planned to live his life without need of physical love of that kind. And his initial idea had been for the young people who came to his Sanctuary to do the same. But that didn’t work out in practice. Dale and Daryl were the first. Other partnerships had emerged. There was Gill and Cól, another Human/Gallifreyan combination, but this one between two young men who found each other’s company irresistible. There were two female Gallifreyans that he would not have broken up for anything. And he knew perfectly well that Brón and Rhys, two more of his students, were likely to come to him some time and talk about how they felt for each other.

And it was all right. His ideal about celibacy had been too high for them to attain. He had not considered their natural emotions in the equation. On reflection, it didn’t seem to do any harm. Those of his students who had formed alliances gave themselves just as wholeheartedly to the disciplines he taught them. They pushed their minds and bodies to the same limits and beyond. In the long run, they might well be the ones who would be happy to come to SangC’lune, with each other for company, and make his new Sanctuary a reality.

“Chrístõdăvõrĕęnďiămǿndhǽrtmăllõupdrăcœfirĕ-delǘnmiancǔimhnemilágrolúzio de Lœngbǽrrow-Campbell!” Chris was stunned when somebody spoke his name. Not the name he was known by – Chris Campbell, but his Gallifreyan name. He almost didn’t answer. He used it so very rarely that it didn’t quite feel as if it belonged to him. Only a very few people would ever address him by it.

He turned and saw the man standing a few feet away. He was tall, broad-shouldered, seeming even taller and broader due to the black and gold robe he wore with a high Gallifreyan collar. He had a well-trimmed beard and eyes that seemed to bore into Chris’s soul as he stepped closer to him.

“My Lord,” he whispered and then knelt before the great man, his head bowed. “Lord Rassilon. I am sorry. I did not know you at first…”

“Why should you? It has been some time since you were last in my presence. And I had a different face then.”

“I still should have known you,” Chris replied.

“Stand up, proud son of my proud descendents. You needn’t prostrate yourself before me.”

“I… was taught to respect my elders… and my heritage,” he answered as he stood and faced the great man. “Lord Rassilon… I am honoured by your presence.”

“And you honour me by your very existence. Permit me….” He reached out his hand and touched Chris’s shoulder. He shivered with something like religious ecstasy. The Creator of his race, the greatest Time Lord, the First Time Lord, reached into his mind. His hearts leapt as his mind was filled with the misty abstracts he used to teach his meditations to his students. He felt himself being entranced by them instead.

When he opened his eyes again he gasped in astonishment. He was looking at the Sanctuary in the high meadow that he had dreamt of. It was real. It was actually there before him.

“We’ve travelled into the future?” he asked.

“I won’t tell you how many years,” Rassilon answered him. “But less than you think. I thought you deserved to know that your dreams have substance.”

“Thank you,” Chris replied. “But… you didn’t manifest yourself just to do that, surely?”

“I came to find you, Chrístõ Lúzio. To see if your dreams were being realised. I am proud of all that you have done, almost entirely by your own endeavours. You have upheld the honour of Gallifrey even though you were born far from the home world of your forefathers.”

“I was taught to keep faith with my ancestors. My brother, too. We both learned to be proud of Gallifrey. And the men whose names we both bear.”

“Would you like to meet one of them?” Rassilon asked him.

“Meet who?”

“One of the ancestors whose name you bear.”

“I… would like to, yes. But surely it isn’t possible. Gallifrey is…”

“Gallifrey is in your hearts and soul, in your very being. You have dreamt of seeing it, of walking on its soil, under the yellow sky.”

“Yes, I have. You can see into my dreams? Yes, of course, you can. I am an open book to you.”

“Then let me make your dream come true for a brief time.”

“I have responsibilities here,” he said. “My students… they will expect me in the village for Daygone.”

Rassilon smiled indulgently.

“I am the greatest Time Lord who ever lived. Do you think I am not capable of returning you to this place before you are missed?”

“Forgive me for doubting you,” Chris answered. “But… do you have a TARDIS?”

“I don’t need a TARDIS,” Rassilon put his hand on Chris’s shoulder again. “What you are seeing is just a comfortable illusion. It makes the journey less traumatic.”

Chris let out a long, awestruck breath as he looked around at the swirling, colourful clouds around him. They were the abstracts that filled his mind. He felt as if he was floating inside his own head.

Then the mist cleared. He felt solid ground under his feet. He looked down and saw hard packed snow around his shoes. He looked up and saw a sky that was burnt orange turning to yellow as a winter morning dawned. He looked around and saw that he was in a broad valley between two long ridges of snow-covered hills. A wide, fast flowing river cut through the valley. In the far distance, in sharp, dark outline against the dawn light, were some higher peaks that must have been the source of the river.

There was a man kneeling in the snow beside the river. He was dressed in a white robe not unlike the one Chris was wearing himself, except his had the Seal of Rassilon in gold thread across the front in the way the Crusaders in Earth history wore the Cross of Christ.

“Who is he? And why is he kneeling in the snow in a robe made of the thinnest fabric?” Chris asked. “Even Time Lords feel the cold.”

Rassilon laughed softly. “It was all I could do to persuade him he didn’t have to prostrate himself in the snow in nothing but a loincloth for modesty. He is a very keen and earnest young man by name of Dăvõrĕęn de Lœngbǽrrow. He is the brother of the first Chrístõ de Lœngbǽrrow,the patriarch of that scion of the Oldblood family of which you are a direct descendent. He is your uncle many times removed. His elder brother, of course, is the primogeniture, inheriting the land and money. Dăvõrĕęn, like all second sons in the known galaxy, has to make his own way in life, and make his own mark upon his world.”

“It was different for me,” Chris, himself a second son, remarked. “We don’t have that idea of primogeniture on Earth in our time. I was always equal with my brother. Have you noticed, by the way… we’re opposites. In his generation the one called Chrístõ is the elder and Dăvõrĕęn is younger. Davie is older than I am. By a few minutes at least. His Gallifreyan name is Dăvõrĕęn.”

“They are twins, too,” Rassilon told him. “But the rules of inheritance are absolute. Except by his brother’s generosity he has nothing to call his own.”

“Then what will he do?”

“He wants to give himself to contemplation and meditation. Yes, just like you. He has the hearts of a philosopher. He wants to serve me as one of the Brotherhood of Contemplation.”

“Does he know we’re watching him?” Chris asked. They were standing not very far from the young man, but he seemed unaware of them even though he didn’t seem to be in a particularly deep meditation.

“He doesn’t yet. But he will. He is preparing himself for a quest that he intends to complete, to prove himself worthy of his ambition. I promised him a companion on the journey. I thought that you would like to be that companion.”

“What journey?”

“He has to reach those mountains where the river begins, on foot, with only a few basic rations and his own wits.”

“In the snow.”

“Indeed.”

“That’s a task, all right. Did you set it?”

“He asked me to challenge him. He wanted to prove himself worthy of being a Servant of Rassilon.”

“Do you mean to kill him?”

“No, I mean to test his determination. But there is no reason why he has to do it alone. If you are prepared to take up the challenge with him, the rewards for you both will be satisfactory.”

Chris looked at his ancestor. He looked about twenty-five, which meant he was probably a little over two hundred years old – a youth of Gallifrey. He had stood up from his contemplation and was looking now at those far off mountains, maybe forty miles away across the snow-covered valley.

“I’ll go with him,” he said. “I don’t suppose we could have a couple of winter coats, though?”

“Yes,” Rassilon answered him with a laugh. “You may. I don’t expect either of you to die of exposure. He thinks he has to make it hard for himself. But it’s his resolve I want to test, not his resistance to frostbite.” At that, Rassilon waved his hand in a wide, all-encompassing movement. Dăvõrĕęn de Lœngbǽrrow looked around in surprise and then knelt again. Rassilon sighed in exasperation.

“Rise,” he said. “It is too cold for that.”

Dăvõrĕęn rose, though his head was still bowed. His eyes turned to look at Chris, standing beside Rassilon with a bundle of warm cloth in his arms.

“This is your companion on your journey. He has ambitions very similar to yours, though a little more advanced. I think you can learn from each other. I will see you when you have reached the end of your journey. Until then, farewell.”

Rassilon vanished. Chris didn’t even bother to wonder how. Nor did Dăvõrĕęnde Lœngbǽrrow. He raised his head, though, now his Creator was not present. Chris saw that he had deep brown eyes like his own. He looked a little bit like Davie, though thinner and less sure of himself.

“We… should begin the journey…” he said.

“Put one of these on first,” Chris told him, passing a full length woollen cloak with a fur lined hood. He slipped one around his own shoulders and realised just how cold he had been. Dăvõrĕęn looked at him closely.

“You have the Lœngbǽrrow crest on your cloak fastening,” he said. “Does that mean…”

“We’re related,” Chris said. “My Gallifreyan name is Chrístõ Lúzio. But I prefer to be called Chris.”

“Dăvõrĕęn… There isn’t any short version of it.”

“It’s a good name,” Chris assured him. He could have shortened it to Dave, or even Davie. But that felt wrong. There was only one Davie in his life.

“Shall we get on, then,” he added. “Did Lord Rassilon say if there was a deadline for completing this quest?”

“No… but… it might not be a good idea to be out here at nightfall. There isn’t much in the way of shelter between here and the Valley of Eternal Night?”

“That’s where we’re going?” Chris asked, slightly surprised. “To…”

“To the place where the sun does not shine,” Dăvõrĕęn said with a soft laugh. “I never got that joke. But Lord Rassilon seemed to think it was funny.”

“Lord Rassilon has an odd sense of humour,” Chris noted as he walked beside his ancestor, both of them making long, but careful strides in the snow. “For a man who created a race of people known for being serious and stoic, he’s almost… laid back.”

“Laid back?” Dăvõrĕęn was puzzled. “I don’t quite understand the phrase… but it seems to fit. Where are you from? Your idiom… your accent… it is odd. It almost sounds as if Gallifreyan was not your native language.”

Chris wondered how much he ought to say about that. He decided the truth would be best.

“It isn’t,” he admitted. “It is the language of my ancestors, taught to me by my great-grandfather. I’m not from Gallifrey.”

“What?” Dăvõrĕęn was startled by that revelation. “But… you ARE a Time Lord. I felt your psychic identity. You are one of us.”

“Yes, I am,” he said. “My mother was born here. She married a Human and lived on Earth… planet Earth, in the Sol system. I grew up there. But I am a Time Lord. I was taught all the disciplines. I was mentored through my Transcension by that same great-grandfather. He is a very great Time Lord who did a lot of wonderful things.”

“I didn’t know there were Time Lords anywhere but Gallifrey. But… then why did Lord Rassilon bring you here?”

“He thought I should see Gallifrey. I wasn’t expecting to see it in winter, though. This isn’t quite how I imagined it. Still…” He looked up at the yellow-orange sky. “I am actually here. I never thought I would get the chance. It is fantastic.”

He was so busy looking at the sky that he missed a hidden tree root and tripped head first into a bank of hard packed snow. As he picked himself up and brushed himself down he laughed.

“Ok, that’s a bit closer to Gallifrey than I wanted to be.” He had twisted his ankle as he fell, and for a while the journey was a little less pleasant. But he bore the pain and walked it off, his eyes on the mountains that refused to get any closer as the hours passed. The sight of a yellow sky over a white valley lost a little of its charm as the morning wore on. The going was gruelling, walking mile after mile in deep snow that froze his feet. But he and his companion kept each other’s spirits up, talking about their experiences as young Time Lords. He answered questions about his family and Dăvõrĕęn did the same. He talked especially about his brother who had inherited the family line.

“We look alike,” he said. “But we’re not really…not inside. He’s a soldier. He’ already fought in two wars. He left the army in order to take up his responsibilities as heir. But I know he still thinks about being a soldier, being an officer with men at his command, leading them into battle.

Dăvõrĕęn shivered, not from the cold. Chris knew what he was thinking.

“My brother was in a war, too. Defending Earth from invaders. It changed him. It hurt him in a lot of ways, strengthened him in others. He’s very different since. Sometimes I feel I know him less than I used to. Other times… he still feels like the other half of my soul.”

“Yes, I know what you mean. I learnt to fight, of course. I can handle a sword. I have done martial arts. But it doesn’t burn in my veins like it does with him. I just want… I want to serve Lord Rassilon… as one of his Brotherhood. That’s why I’m doing this… to prove to him that I have the stamina, the courage, the wit, to serve him. To prove I’m not the weak-minded coward they all think I am.”

“People think that?” Chris was shocked. “Your brother… does he…”

“No, he doesn’t. He understands. But others have questioned my manhood, because I’m not like him.”

“That’s not right,” Chris said. “When the war came… I took my people… the students in my Sanctuary to safety. That was my purpose. To protect them. I did my duty that way. Davie… he did his by fighting. We both did what we had to do.”