Dawn and Dusk

Upon hearing of a well-known physician popping up in his current area of residence in France, the Doctor almost couldn't resist himself to try and find him in exchange for important information. Think of how much information this man of brilliance will hold that could potentially help him in his search of curing the pestilence!

It was quite easy to find the physician in the first place either way, the townsfolk weren't known for being tight lipped and easily spread rumours; which in some situations was a bonus and con.

Especially that in this day and age everyone was so busy making money in order to not starve to death with the current monarchy that they did not care enough to question his out of date fashion, or why his outfit was one of the past, ones origin coming from the great horrors of the black death.

His presence was only discarded to be of someone of weird fashion or some goth passing the street that just happened to be going the same way as them. But as the Doctor stepped out of his makeshift hiding place for now from the outside world he stopped to smell the fresh new lavender growing nearby near a bush.

They smelt wonderful, calming him almost immediately as his nerves and tensed muscles relaxed to feel as if they were no more. Those flowers had been there with him his whole life, any important moment there was they would always be there to accompany him. No matter if the event had been negative or positive towards him.

Gently the Doctor knelt down to get a closer look of the flowers, unfortunately just like all other organisms on this Earth were infected with the pestilence, just this specific species of flower being least affected to the pestilence's deadly reign over life and death.

The Doctor would never be able to touch a being that was infected with the pestilence, his touch killing anyone inflicted with such dying almost instantly to his touch. Even with years of the Doctor trying to perfect his cure the first step to it was always killing them with his own fingers, giving them the most painless death of their previous subconsciousness he could.

His skillful experience and years of training on his practice of surgery of medicine was as impeccable as ever, operating on humans and animals alike. His reorganization of the organs, taking them out and cleaning the body of the pestilence with his surgical tools and home-made substances in his doctor's was .

That bag had always been there with him during his life, even upon when the Doctor first found the bag it was in a field of lavender, a single stalk of it inside it.

Though the bag seemed to be endless in space, it was unlike his humble book of information he kept with him at all times about his surgeries and procedures. After all, any procedure he would finish he would write down observations, his actions, results about what happened with the newly learned knowledge.

Though one downside is with him having to modify the book when it ran out of pages to add more…

Nevermind that, his viewing of the lavender flowers he had found was not done. What fortune or demise could these flowers have brought him this time? But any change such as this was always welcomed, experiences shaped the person and changed them accordingly. The important thing to do always is remember your goal and to continue living with the right ideals and promises to follow.

Putting on gloves from his bag and gently grabbing the lavenders to put into his front pocket for later to smell, just in case he did not find them again for a long time. He had learnt to do this over centuries over his research, food was sure to get him back into the right mindset to operate once in a while but he did not wish to eat constantly to do so.

These flowers were the perfect solution, giving him enough home and strength to continue going with his cure of ending the pestilence, he was the cure.

Continuing on with his way to this physician he was almost reluctant to do so, who would take care of these wonderful flowers if no one was nearby? What if they get trampled? Ah yes, he must return to his thoughts. Experiences shape a person, animal, and plant. Whatever happens the organism will adapt no matter what, even this patch of lavenders of course.

He stepped back onto the worn trail he had walked along with hundreds of people, just instead he was not going in search of a patient and now for the physician.

The walk was not great in time but one to cherish nonetheless, the atmosphere this time around was quite nice with the birds singing, even if they were infected with the undying pestilence he is still so desperately trying to cure.

There was almost no crowd at this time of hour, in the dead of morning people would be just now waking up to the birds wonderful song. But worry not, his journey continued to this physician's alleged place of residence.

After what seemed like a few minutes of walking the Doctor had finally found that man's lair, though a small place it was — it was quite homey even with the desolate atmosphere. And when no one opened the door after his knock he tested the door to the wonderful surprise of it being unlocked already.

Had this man's house been broken into or was he just reckless? Perhaps both, but one of the later seemed unlikely, especially for a man of his status and job.

With a quick enter the Doctor proceeded to search the house, occasionally calling out for the physician with no reply. Perhaps he had turned his home into some sort of a puzzle? Some things seemed out of place, or maybe this man was truly just robbed like he suspected.

Proceeding to pull on the books of an unsuspecting bookshelf a secret door had opened, this man was truly a genius! A secret door passage of books no one would guess other than another genius such as himself in this day and age, a man just like the Doctor himself.

Entering the room he was led down a long sad hallway, devoid of furniture or any feel that someone had lived there or walked down this path multiple times. Just once perhaps had the physician gone down this way?

With a short pause the Doctor opened his pocket of lavenders he had stored before and sniffed them, basking in the scent before continuing and storing the flowers back away safely for later in case he wanted another stop to calm his nerves and smell.

Another puzzle down the road he found! Seemed an arch for a doorway with no door in sight, perhaps another puzzle? With an old book full of gibberish only one knowing old languages of the past would know was there on the ground.

KEEP EDITING COMMAS AND SUCH UP HERE - NOTE TO SELF

The physician was nowhere in sight once again; where was this man hiding? He can't be this secretive could he? Or perhaps he was just a delusional man that was too far gone to the pestilence to be reasoned with for information the Doctor so badly wanted.

With a short puzzle work the Doctor figured it out easily, and proceeded to do some sort of ritual described in the book as the arch glows violently. It got the Doctor to feel as if it was going to blind him at any moment! Though when it did calm down a portal was summoned; shifting and changing colors in a limited color palette of the colors red and yellow along with black and white.

The Doctor looked back for a second; entering mysterious portals in books never did you any good, nor would he know if it did now. Either this will end in fortune or certain betrayal, and how shall he know which? Is the portal even safe to enter?

But in the strive for information and knowledge one must take risks; upon everything he vows he will either die trying to find the cure to the pestilence or die at his own hands.

A quick step was made with the sound of the Doctor's shoes clanking across the what seemed to be a metal floor with the sound it made against his shoes — the same bright light from the portal summoning previously enveloping the Doctor — feeling his consciousness be brought to a new world that he had not previously known.

This new world was really something new, the Doctor would have to document his travels! This new land of interest was something that he had not seen before. Buildings defying the law of gravity that this world did not seem to have; with the masked people walking about on the stairs of such structures.

Even as the stairs shifted and turned the residents of this dimension did not fall— just followed it even as it went upside down— including up and around. The sky was not out of the question either, the sky was a pure yellow with what seemed to be black stars glowing in the night. It was a beautiful sight really, but he shall pay more attention to it later in his travels here.

Now walking with a slow pace the Doctor did, and he managed to fit right into the group of masked civilians everywhere, his own face presenting a mask itself.

With sudden excitement like a child on before Christmas too focused on opening the presents left for them the next day. As if a weight had been lifted off of him, the Doctor picked up the pace and kept on walking to explore this mesmerizing land.

He seemed to be in the middle of all the cities; lucky for him to have come to a place so conveniently right in the centre of it all. With the colors of the presenting primary colors — excluding blue — with black and white such as the shifting colors on the portal before; including that everything seemed to follow that color palette.

Continuing on his way the Doctor forgot to even note down what was happening! But with being so caught up in the atmosphere of the festivities going on he couldn't remember worrying about anything before; including his book.

Yes, the Doctor did bump into some locals along the way of following the crowd into the center of where they are all going he did do. But none seemed to share the same fate of falling over onto their knees and dying on the spot as creatures on earth did with his deadly touch.

Not an ounce of fear did these masks' faces show, their outfits showing the mood perfectly of what was going on around them.

A festival was going on as previously stated, the masked people in jester-like outfits all about in one solid color with varying shades of their chosen hue of choice. Was it even a choice of the people to wear such color or was it some sort of status symbol?

Some locals had worn less intricate clothing but still were somewhat festive nonetheless; it left the Doctor sticking out like a sore thumb in this area. Not many wore black here; even if it was almost everywhere like the shadows and stars of this dimension. Even the expressions etched onto the masks were pitch black with a smiling expression.

All masks looked somewhat different in their own way; having an extra wrinkle or swirl on their design showing them different from others. Even if the most intricate dressed people of this land had more details such as these. This could perhaps be how the masks of this dimension differed from appearances like humans, their own versions of freckles, eye color, and more.

The Doctor did worry for a few seconds on his appearance, he did fit in with his face naturally looking like a plague doctor's mask, or a bird species of some kind. His long outfit did sometimes shine in the light as a pigeon's feathers would; looking colorful with all sorts of hues which this dimensions sky was doing to him right now. Perhaps it was just the material of his clothes or he maybe had hidden feathers he never knew about — even as a joke that feathered comment was his unusual birdlike appearance didn't help denounce his claim either.

Other than that the Doctor noticed his body changing with tiny details the longer he stayed the more beastly his appearance changed every minute or so. Though at least he did not fully look deranged and hoped when he did come out of this dimension he would be able to still fit in with humanity in order to cure them of the pestilence.

Walking was another ordeal though, the crowd was starting to push harder and move faster; pulling anything wrapped up in it away from their original location. But with some work the Doctor was able to wrestle his way out and snap out of his euphoric haze.

He must ask the locals about where the nearest library was surely! Information was important truly, especially in a land he had no knowledge of. Really — what had this physician done in his home to create a portal to this place? Either way he must be a genius.

“Do you know where the nearest library is, good sir?”

The Doctor had spoken to ask a civilian walking past. This one seemed higher in stature and status with his clothing, a detail he had noticed before.

The mask in a bright red jester out with tons of frills and grooves stopped for a second, turning around to face him. His mask seemed to be close to origins of Ancient Greece; though also at the same time not. Truly a fascinating world this was that he had ended up in.

The masked civilian stood before him, a slight bit taller than the Doctor surprisingly, and spoke.

“I must continue on my way, have a wonderful celebration.” The tone was flat and composed with the mask turning away and leaving as fast as he had come.

With a sigh of defeat the Doctor went on his way to find the library on his own, hoping to not get carried away by the crowd in the process. Eventually finding what he was searching for he did, entering the old place with a creak of the door.

The library thankfully did not seem as confusing as the outside; looking typical of the type he would find in his home land. Was Earth even his original home or had he accustomed to simply living there? The Doctor couldn't help but pause to wonder for a second at the thought in contemplation.

Ah! But no time to wonder as his brain switched straight back to finding information — it would be wiser to gather the information here and write it into his book-

Where was the book? More importantly, where is his bag?

That must be the reason he was feeling so light this whole time! His trusty doctor's bag was nowhere to be found. He couldn't have lost it; could he? Surely he wasn't this reckless, and sure the locals didn't seem quite the friendly bunch but they would not steal his bag surely!

Wretched floating feeling he got from this place upon entering such a short time ago, maybe perhaps it were the civilians of this land that had swiped his bag at this moment. He didn't know why this anger was affecting him so greatly so, usually he was a calm headed man, was he not?

Or perhaps the bizarreness of this land was truly just getting to him; driving him crazy so quickly he couldn't blink before it happened. He must regain his senses, the Doctor thought. Calming down he slowed his breathing and stood at a stand still. His life's research was in that book with no other effective method of storing information but books in this century.

It would be wonderful to be able to write down his research in something that would be able to store it safely for years to come, but of course that was not invented yet. Such a shame but he must wait to work on that second goal of his to complete his most important one — cure the pestilence and rid it of the world.

Now that he thinks of it the people residing in this dimension do seem to carry it but most do not; such a nice discovery he had found! A world almost rid of the disease plaguing them with tons of time to come for the Doctor to cure it before it was too late. Sure Earth had still eons of time left on its ticking time bomb, but this world had more than enough time to not only figure out the cure but to also administer it to the entire world.

Enough thinking off track and rambling into his own thoughts, the Doctor composed himself once again. He just shall read quite a bit in this dimension and then proceed to retrace his steps; yes, quite the well plan.

Grabbing a book was easy, the Doctor almost secretly hoped there would be another hidden door to explore that would pop up from pulling a book once again — but that didn't come this time.

Opening a new book he had not read before was delightful as he sat down on a nearby chair and began to read, even if the tale the book was describing was mere fiction (or perhaps it was not; how was he to know?) It was simply captivating.

The storytelling spoke of 4 Lords; whose colors were of the ones as presented in this dimension everywhere he had looked. Black, White, Yellow, and Red were the lords base names — the one sticking out most prominently to him (Or the author just simply couldn't remember the others titles) was the Anguished Lord.

He wore a long black robe with a mask that looked of Ancient Greek descent; similar to the masked civilian he had stopped and asked a question to before but not exactly. The Anguished Lord’s mask-like face had many captivating features and details, several swirls and hidden features that would mesmerize anyone. Just one thing ruined his face — that sorrow-filled frown.

Could not anyone comfort this individual on whatever they were suffering upon? It couldn't be that hard; now could it be? The Doctor was slowly starting to regret ever coming to this strange land; if he ever finds that physician his questions now are not only going to be about medicine this time.

Continuing to read the tale was not a hard thing to do, the text was legible and not overly complex like so many authors tried to do. So many pretentious authors of books started popping up lately, and even worse the quality of their books were awful as well! No one wants to read about you rambling for hours on end with not even a bit of love put into it.

Matter not for now, he really needs to stop getting off track. The book was about the Lords listed earlier and their duties. Even better was the fact of the Anguished Lord being the king's favorite! Oh how glad he was that the author of this had put into account that jesters were not just fools — they were advisors as well, and not just entertainment. Any jester of the King were allowed to own land, were most of the time intellectuals, and were able to criticize the King in any way to improve the people's lives without repercussions.

The Anguished Lord was the King's favorite in this book not for no reason of course; with being intellectual he also provided a new perspective on things quite frequently as the tale described. Reminding him of some of the people's suffering and ways they could possibly fix it. This land he had stumbled into was way more considerate than the current leaders of France it seemed.

Endless parties they had made for the rich, and leaving the poor with scraps. Working decades off their lives in order to be able to see another day with barely enough food on the table. And even if some people had been able to rise above poverty it did not leave them satisfied — the gap between the rich and the poor was way too big to ever even get close to their level.

He really wished some sort of revolution would come to his home land, perhaps it would bring some enlightenment for the Doctor in some way.

Finishing the book he put it back into its original spot carefully, not wanting to ruin or damage anything even if it's unlikely. He didn't know how old the shelves or books were in this place; nevertheless if he did damage something the cost would be something unknown to him. For all he knew, he was just as poor as the people of France right now with not a dollar of the currency in this dimension in his possession.

Storing the tale in his memory — no book of his own in sight to write it down in — he got up from his seat and explored the area. There were strange clocks decorating the place, gravity defying ladders he had seen previously before had been here too, and with even more bizarre decoration pieces that he had never seen or thought of before.

Who would have thought such swirls of color would make such pleasing decor? The Doctor thought as he continued on with his exploration. This place just screamed warning signs with its bizarreness! Better he find his book and get out of here soon, he wasn't finding that physician anytime soon anyway.

Stepping out the Doctor followed his way back to the place he had first found himself in, around the town square. The crowd had died down moderately which was a pleasant surprise — but the people still seemed to be celebrating something.

Where could have his bag gone? The thought in his head echoed out in wonder; with a pain in his head starting to develop. A headache is not what he needed at this time! Focus, he needs to focus.

But the pain did not die down and instead grew larger, so much larger than he had ever dealt with before. He trudged himself up into an alley — or what he hoped was one — and leaned against the wall clutching his shirt. Usually, he would instead hold onto his bag but that was not present at the moment.

He could start to hear the screams of the people he failed to save from disease in the past when he was still an apprentice doctor; oh how he wished he could go back and save them but he never could — he failed them. The feeling of their cold body in his hands brought so many memories he had thought he had forgotten back to him in a flash.

Their blood on his hands was a feeling he never wanted to feel again along with failing a patient — killing them basically — never again would he want to remember such a thing.

Slumping down onto the ground the Doctor opened his pocket once again and smelled the pleasant lavenders he had left in his pocket, they did not seem to die from his touch in this dimension which was pleasant. But his touch not working on either the people or his flowers was going to be a bit troublesome for his work.

The smell alleviated his sickness of the head for a few moments, but instead the pain came back harder. Cold sweat started to run down his head as his head started to pound harshly; never had he gotten a pain as bad as this! Could his immunity truly be gone for all the diseases he had so harshly fought before? Or was the pestilence finally taking its revenge on him, and had found a way to bypass his immune system?

Nonsense, right? His thoughts were in a mesh now with being unable to focus. The pain was spreading from his head to his body; enveloping him. His vision started to go out — he must not die here! Was it even death he was brought upon?

He passed out fully; guess he just had to hope no one would come and steal his precious flowers — those being all he had left after the stealing of his bag at this point. What lastly he could see was the crowd of masked people walking past him with uncaring glances, not paying any attention to him with indifference. The Doctor could only hope for help to come soon and that no kidnappers would find and lock him up.

Next second was a meeting the Doctor was not a part of, the Lords described from the book before surrounding a circular table — perhaps in discussion.

“Too many foreigners!” One yelled out, “Too much chaos.” The other said, “Disease will come.” A voice calmly spoke, “Calm down.” Last of them had said.

They seemed to be talking about the suspicious arrival of new foreigners each day coming to their land; though it could only be accessed through a specific ritual it could still be accessed nonetheless. As fun as it would be to toy with the new arrivals they had to think of something before the King vaporized them all.

The first one to enter their dimension in decades was a human old man, the last human they had seen was from the caveman era surely. While it was quite the interesting discovery with a new human coming into the realm he was killed all too quickly by the residents living here. No one shall walk the land of Alagadda without a mask after all!

Sure the man was writing information down about the area as much as he could, but it was all in vain either way. A local had stolen the bag and reported it to one of the authorities; being in possession of such a bag of a not so well liked foreigner would not be doing well at all.

Which brought them to their next new arrival; this suspicious man that was dressed in full black with a crow-like mask. No one had given him a rude welcome but they had not welcomed the man either way. The man carried a bag and cane, and while the new visitor was exploring their charismatic lands it had gotten swiped by the Black Lord himself.

The man seemed to look like a wandman, the man's mask also looked eerily close to one of their own species. All masks differed in shape and details — with this man looking similar to one of theirs.

The Lord reported the man to the other Lords; seeming happier than usual. The Anguished Lord would usually live up to his name and seem saddened by everything going on. But with the arrival of the man who appeared to look like a Wandsman the Lord's permanent frown had lifted just a bit. In the lands of Alagadda the residents usually chose to not wear black, as they called it a ‘sad’ color.

Presented they were right since the Black Lord did look like the embodiment of someone drowning in sadness; hence the hue was referred to as the saddest of them all. All the colors of Alagadda’s referred ‘personalities’ were based on their Lords!

With that the other Lords assumed the Anguished Lord mood was lifted just a bit by seeing someone wearing the same color of his robes. Luckily for the Wandsman of the topic he was not wearing any banned colors that did not exist in the dimension — or at least it wasn't shown. The color of his eyes were unknown due to that mask of his.

Lucky man he was, lucky man. But what shall they do with him?

All the Lords were referred to as siblings; though they do hate each other at times they did hold a bit of appreciation for each other throughout their infinite lifespan. Even when they do wish the Black Lord would be less annoying it was nice to see their sibling cheer up even if a bit.

“Shall we keep him alive?” Asked the White Lord, usually the most composed of them all. Others would have guessed that this one would be the King's favorite with their composure and such but nevertheless it was still the Anguished Lord.

The Yellow Lord with the most fiery personality between them all tensed up; about to spew out their own answer. “Why should we!? The Wandsman is a foreigner, sure they travel dimensions and such but this one is off limits!” Screamed out the Lord. That answer was expected with his not so pleasant personality.

Of course Alagadda wasn't kind to visitors for whatever reason, they weren't sure why but if the King was against it then they had to be too. It was just the rule for them in order to not get a horrible execution — unless it was the Anguished Lord saying such things. Even with them trying to hide their jealousy for their sibling’s ability to speak freely for themselves they couldn't help but feel envious.

Their heads would roll with a guillotine onto the ground if they even hinted at wanting to do any of the ideas the Black Lord had! What did the King see in him they did not know. All they knew is to keep their mouths shut or they would be getting worse than a public execution.

The King, more formally known as the Hanged King implies just as his name says. Covered in bandages with only one eye peeking out, a crown on his head with a noose on his neck. His domain was full of such nooses, hanging from the neverending ceiling to warn any intruder about entering and what would happen if they denied his law.

Sometimes when the Lords entered they could hear the screams and cries of the ones unfortunate enough to experience the King's wrath; hanged up on the ceiling with a noose around their neck.

“Maybe a whole vote will suffice?” The White Lord had offered — looking around the table to see if everyone agreed. The Black Lord nodded along with the others; agreeing on voting on the supposed outcome of what will happen with the Wandsman fate even if the Yellow Lord agreed to voting and not immediate execution begrudgingly.

The outcome came out somewhat positive for the Wandsman; half and half. While the Yellow and Red Lords did agree unanimously that the man would be killed immediately upon being found; on the other hand the White and Black lord had agreed upon keeping him alive, and perhaps just as a dungeon rat or something of the sort.

So in the end the man's fate was to be stuck in a cage indefinitely until one of the Lords wanted him to have different arrangements or they simply got bored of him. Even if it was an even poll between death and being locked up — they chose upon keeping the Wandsman stuck in a cell.

Surely, of course the Anguished Lord had to suck up to the king a little bit in order for him to accept this proposition as well; how lucky he was for being the favorite. With his unlikely wish granted the Black Lord seemed happier than ever! Sure his face still had the permanent frown etched into his face but it was lifted a bit more now that it had gotten what it wanted.

Finding the Doctor was quite easy actually — he was just laying in an alley passed out. That effect of his mind control was truly a thing of wonders as how he was able to make him fall into a slumber as deep as that that quickly. His mental strength seemed to be strong from seeing graphic things from his morbid surgeries, but the Doctor's resistance wasn't strong enough yet to combat the Black Lords powers.

The mask ordered one of his servants to bring the Wandsman into his palace and lock him up in some dusty cell — nothing too fancy of course for a prisoner such as him. He was merely just excited at seeing a visitor that at least had the respect to put on a mask before entering the lands of Alagadda, and that this man was wearing his respective color! Oh he could go rambling on for hours; especially about how he wasn't wearing any banned colors unlike how most rude foreigners do.

Better take the cane away from this man as well; wouldn't want any unwanted escapes or attacks being done upon him. Not like this Wandsman could do any damage upon him of course! It was just a precaution to keep his good for nothing servants alive for another day, truly, he was such a kind Lord for at least considering them unlike the other Lords that would rather count their coins than think about their servants.

Not that the Anguished Lord blamed them of course, these servants were either utterly incompetent or useless fully. Maybe once in a while a good one would come around but then they would demand more and more — their ego enveloping them so much that the Lord had no choice to either execute or fire them with shame above their head.

Perhaps this Wandsman could be a good servant, yes? The least he could hope for is that the man was an intellectual capable of solving the disease plaguing this dimension that would so very soon kill them all if no one was to do anything against it; quite said it would be if this empire did come to its demise due to the rise of a new plague.

The Doctor found himself waking up on a stiff black bed — along with other items in what seemed to be in this cell being various shades of black and grey. The bed wasn't comfortable but it was better than sleeping on the ground like he had done so many times before as a traveling doctor.

The people did not appreciate his cure; chasing him out of town so many times for thinking his treatment was awful and something that should not be done. They were foolish! All of them were. How was he to cure the pestilence without administering his cure to others?

Getting up off of the bed the Doctor examined a few items in the room; including his bag being nowhere to be found still. Guessing that his cane was taken from him as well because he could not find it anywhere no matter where he looked. His hopes of not being kidnapped while out of consciousness were ruined because obviously he was being held somewhere currently, or this was merely how this world kept their guests — though that possibility is unlikely.

Calling out to the guards seemed like the only sensible option to do. “Greetings, may you tell me where I am?” Is what he asked first, waiting for a reply patiently. The guard positioned outside his new place of residence was unmoving and did not answer; how rude!

Asking the other guard on a different side didn't help all that much either, he was truly stuck here until he found a way out. The Doctor sat on a chair and table oh how kindly provided to him (said with annoyance and sass) and looked for anything he could keep himself occupied with for the moment to calm his nerves.

Losing his book earlier wasn't helping him one bit in this stressful situation, and now being locked up somewhere had made it even worse! Especially his cane now being gone the Doctor was close to fully panicking. That cane was with him for most of his lifetime, he had kept it with him for so long he forgot when he first got it.

Of course he took good care of his cane as well — a prized possession of his such as this would not last as long as this if he did not. He would polish it occasionally and clean in regularly; making sure to check for cracks and such each time and repair them efficiently. With his reputation and constantly moving towns to repair, such a reputation did not leave with a long of options of taking it to a dealer to fix; rather than that he just took care of it on his own! Which he was of course very proud of.

A click of heels sounded from the end of the hallway he was in brought him back from his haze of thoughts and feelings, turning his eyes and attention to it. Perhaps this was a misunderstanding and he was being released? No, surely not. That outcome was too good for whatever was going on currently, and this feeling of false hope will make him fall to further hopelessness later on.

What? The Doctor didn't remember making that thought rather at all, hope is what got people through the day and everyone should keep even a little bit and get over whatever troubling them. Why was that foul thought planted into his head? Or was he truly just losing his sanity already?

He needs to stop thinking about these things! He was not losing his sanity and was just surely stressed. But abruptly being pulled out of his thoughts he saw the individual which was making the sound of the shoes earlier stopped in front of his cell.

It… was the Lord depicted in the book he had read before. The Black Lord specifically; wearing that long black robe as told in the book with a picture, and including that foul frown that plagued his face almost as much as Earth was plagued by the pestilence.

Just one thing was on the Lord's masked face that was not mentioned before; black tears running down his cheeks that looked like it could burn anything it touched — melting it instantly until what was there was no more.

The door was opened slowly by the guards with a loud screech, hurting his ears so violently. Couldn't these people be a little bit kinder to their involuntary guest? Surely it couldn't be so hard to do so.

With the door opening the tall Anguished Lord stepped into the cell, seeming visibly disgusted by even being in the same room as him but nonetheless entered the room in an attempt to be ‘polite.’ Bending down to the Doctors level the Black Lord spoke in some monotone tone that made the Doctors skin crawl with disgust, he'd never hated someone from the first meeting as much as this.

Inspecting the Doctor's face he did; putting his hand on the man's face with the Doctor pulling back almost immediately — distrusting of him. “Title?” The Lord asked, even if the mask really did not care about the Wandsman name he could at least fake being kind enough to ask; to put on a facade acting like he actually cared.

“I am a doctor, of course!” He had replied begrudgingly, already wanting to pull away from the Anguished Lord that he seemed to hate right off the first meeting.

“Where am I? The guards were not kind enough to tell me.”

The Black Lord stared at him for a few moments and paused — thinking upon telling him, and after a few moments told him so. “In the lands of Alagadda, do not forget. You are lucky you came wearing a mask or else the people of these lands would have torn you to pieces already.”

Alagadda? What kind of name is that? Sounds straight out of a fairytale in the Doctor's opinion, fancy of a name it was not like a name he had heard of before. Instead, the Doctor chose to stare into the Lord's eyes even as the risky thing it was to do; usually it was told to him to not stare so rudely at one upon the first meeting but how could he not? He was locked up here for no reason presumably because of the mask in front of him!

“What happened to my possessions? My bag? My cane?” He asked slowly, as if taunting the Lord by saying he needed it spoken that slowly because he could not comprehend his words.

Quite the insult it was of course, and how genius even of him! Spouting in his face and indirectly calling him an idiot; this was one of the Doctor's best talents he had picked up after his long years of age — insults!

The Anguished Lords frown only raised a slight bit, but this was quickly noticed by the Doctor. Was this bastard really smiling off of an insult? How shameful! At first he had thought that the Lord's frown was something that should be turned quickly into a smile because of how saddened the masked fellow looked, but now he just wanted to bash his head into the ground from how pretentious it is!

“Does it matter at the moment, what if you will work for me? Choosing not to comply will end in immediate termination.” Termination? What kind of even grounds was this? But if he truly has to he would prefer not to take his assumption and that termination means certain death.

He couldn't die just yet, could he? The Doctor would only allow himself to finally die upon finding the cure for the pestilence. That wretched pestilence… he couldn't get off into thought now, he must answer. “If I truly have no choice, then I accept.”

The Anguished Lord went back to his full stature and beckoned him to come out of the room following him, and the Doctor obliged and did as was told. The dungeons were grey and boring; nothing interesting to look at at the moment other than the other poor souls trapped here — doomed to spend eternity crying for help and to be released.

After a few seconds of walking through the confusing hallways the Lord turned to stare at the Doctor. “Wandsman, why did you choose to come to this dimension? Surely you would have known things would turn out differently if you just hadn't come.”

A confused glare came out of the Doctor as he responded — how did he know so quickly he was a Wandsman? Usually most people would assume he’s just some eccentric freak that happens to enjoy dressing up in some sort of extremely detailed bird mask with a long black outfit to go with it. “I… am not used to people knowing of my identity so quickly.” Trying to deflect the question, the Doctor just responded with some last second response before the situation became too awkward, not wanting to give the true reason for stumbling upon this dimension by accident. And the Doctor was as well not used to suddenly coming to new dimensions not on purpose such as the situation now.

The Black Lord seemed to ponder for a moment if to push further into the topic to gain more unneeded information at the moment. He really did need to stop peering into others' brains as much! It could scare away possible new idiots to work for him, though it was interesting to get new information such as there was possibly no way of having any fun these days; everything was getting too awfully boring.

Continuing to walk they reach the end of the painfully long dungeon hallway, the cell doors lining each wall with prisoners behind them staring either pitifully on longingly at the Doctor; some wished to be set free while others just hoped the Doctor did not wound up dead or be thrown back in here once deemed useless.

The large metal door opened with the guards nearby help, the Doctor couldn't help but notice their nervous expressions on the masks the guards wore. If they could sweat there would definitely be buckets worth of it on everyone in their vicinity with how much fear filled everyone at the moment.

Upon the door taking a few seconds to open the Lord sent a glare towards the guards as a warning to open the door faster if a next time even came for them; the Doctor couldn't help but feel sympathy for the poor guards, although they did not have any manners at all when he tried talking to them.

The scenery that unfolded outside the cellar was one the Doctor could only hope to dream of, is this what perhaps the castles the royalty and rich lived in during this time? He only guessed that they looked like this anyway — the rich and royal don't invite commoners into their parties, calling them ‘dirty and underprivileged.’

With a wave of the Lord's hand the Wandsman was carried away swiftly to another room by a guard that just happened to be nearby and an egotistical most likely high ranking servant of the Anguished Lord. What had he really gotten himself into? The Doctor couldn't help but wonder, no use in turning back already then, he already accepted the deal and was a man of his word; even though he did not agree to what he assigned up to all that much.

The servant also wore one of the masks everyone here wore, though seemingly more fancy and decorated; this particular one also seemed to like dressing up with the patterns and swirls on its face — like make up in his world. The Doctor was not as used to seeing people take care of their appearance so much, as that was mostly because he wandered the area of the commoners more than the rich. He definitely knew the royalty of his land were much more accustomed to wearing pretty frilly dresses and doing makeup. Even as bizarre the beauty standards were of this time as long as the people were happy with what they wore he did not care; that was as long as they weren't flashing him of course with their body.

Some time passed with the Doctor being finally in his room; it was decorated somewhat well but still nothing to be compared to the grandiose of the place he was in — not that he cared all that much. His bag was not in his possession for the moment as well as the cane; such a shame! But the books in the room with him were quite tempting… the Doctor couldn't resist himself, picking up a book and quenching his thirst for knowledge.

But along with the Anguished Lord at the moment was a rare peace — while not showing it the Lord was delighted to have a somewhat worthy guest. His usual servant beside him was waiting for an order of course as well.

Aight guys hope you enjoy it I cross posted this from my Ao3 story, I lowk don't remember my user so like ask later