Throughout the history of existence, there have been many varying opinions on time. And what makes it so interesting is that, despite this, the differing views are rarely discussed.
Whether you think of it as a bustling road, crowded with people all going their own way, or a slow, meandering path by quiet fields and lakes of tranquil water, it very seldom occurs to anyone to reflect on their opinion of time. It just is.
Time Lords, on the other hand, think about very little else. It is, after all, their allotted task in life –to stand to one side, and watch the slow eddy and flow of the river as it passes, lapping at the edges of their stagnate society.
To them, Time is a river. There will always be ripples and small waves, but on the whole, it keeps going in the right direction –with a little help, of course.
They know that a small rock, put in just the right position, can send the entire river flooding its bank and off on a completely unimagined tangent. Which is why it is their sacred trust to protect the time-line, and prevent anyone from laying their stones in the wrong place.
But Time Lords are not gods, whatever most of them think. They are mortal . . . and as mortals, they sometimes fail to catch the ripple that builds to a tsunami, threatening the very foundations of all their work.
This is the story of a rock-layer, and his companion. Or, as you like it, a cautionary tale, of how a good history can go terribly wrong . . .