The Abbot was never one to stand gaping. As the last echoes of "Thoroughly evil!", mockingly declared by the creature who still yet resembled Peri died off, he was already on the move. With a roll and an upwards cut, the Abbot was through her defenses.

 As he came up out of the roll to stand next to his foe, the Abbot glanced down with a sigh: destroying any lifeform was repugnant to him. However, self-preservation was motive enough even for him. The sigh became a choke for, as he glanced down, he realised that it truly was a human female and not a monster whom he had cut down. The Abbot had disemboweled her and, among the intestines quelling out of her stomach, he could see the 5 cm-long body of an unborn infant.

 With a cry of dismay, he fell to his knees next to her, and began pushing her innards back into her in the most futile of gestures. All that which had but a moment before seemed evil, he now recognized as a perversion and manipulation of his mind.

 "I have failed!" the Abbot wailed in horror as the mass of innards slipped out of his fingers and back to the floor.

 The Abbot gave up trying to pull her lifeless body back together, and sat back in weariness both of the body and the soul. To calm down a bit and remove the body of the dead Peri from his sight, he closed his eyes.

 A moment later, the "Holy Man" snapped them back open again upon hearing footsteps approach. He gaped as he noticed that Peri's body had disappeared. His head weaved to and from as he searched about in the darkness; yet he could see nothing beyond a few feet. Then he heard a voice, coming from the approaching emptiness. Peri's voice.

 "Here I am!" she called. "Where are you?"

 It was her own voice.

 The Abbot let go the pent up stress he had felt, and the relief, that he had not killed her and her child, washed over him. He berated himself for his sentimentality - was this not exactly the sort of thing he was always berating the Doctor for? And yet, surely this time there was more at stake than just this particular human woman. His "killing" or "not killing" her would decide the fate of the universe. Fortunately, he had not killed her.

 "Did you think it would be that easy?" spoke the voice out of the darkness, from a figure the Abbot was just beginning to make out, the voice coming from an unusually alluring Peri, the voice which was no longer the nasal, though more welcome, voice of the true Peri, the voice that spoke with a huge chuckle.

 "You will know what true evil is, for I am a Peri - of Persian legend. And before I become good, I shall be truly evil."

 In quick reaction, the Abbot once again had his sword out. The ease with which he killed the "Evil Fairy" once again astounded him. This was unnatural. As he sliced through the evil creature before him, the Abbot saw it return to the shape of Peri, and he heard Peri scream "Don't!!!"

 With a shock of realization, he stopped his cutting hand. His sword had already passed through her body. With a jerk, he pulled his sword free and caught her falling body, blood spraying over him, though he failed to notice it. With his hand, he touched at her stomach. He could feel the wavering, dying pulse of an unborn baby in her womb.

 Once again he fell back with a wail. This might very well be the Doctor's old companion Peri, or it might not. There was no way he could tell. It may very well be that the Evil One was letting him kill parts of her, or rejuvenating her for him to kill again and again.

 The Abbot was certain that she would disappear again, and a new Peri would appear to threaten him. There was no way out.

 Except to die. The only way to win was for him to let her kill him. He would have to face death to succeed. Only by facing it and persevering, would he succeed. He had the strength to stand alone. But not the power.

 Already he heard the high-heeled step of Peri coming towards him. He opened his eyes.

 "Hi!"

 "Certainly", the Doctor smirked back. "Could you please behead her?"

 "What!?"

 "Well, I know it might be hard for you to believe, but my relationship with Romana, though close, was never one in which we shared the same bed. So, I am not her father. Or at least not yet. I cannot speak for the future. But even *that* I would pretend unlikely. Friendship is friendship, and I am not the type to destroy such a friendship with sex. She is not my daughter."

 The Master's face went blank. He lifted his sword. Though he might appreciate her evil, she was not of the "natural" kind. He would not give sway to the like of her if his own existence were jeopardized.

 Hecate, or Faust, saw the glint in his eye, and knew he was in earnest. "Stop!" she cried, "I have not lied. The Evil One is playing with time itself. I am the possibility of your daughter. And I am the mutually exclusive possibility of his," pointing at the Doctor. "Let me make a deal with you both."

 The Master lowered his sword. One eyebrow was pulled up skeptically. "Would you have me play the devil? and you Faust? And shall the wager be that if you ever rest on your laurels, your soul shall be mine? Or shall you be Hecate, the Goddess of Darkness, with whom any pact leads to the dark realm?"

 The Doctor turned to where he had tossed his sword. It lay in three neat pieces. As he studied it, he could feel a wave of hate rising from it. In response, the Doctor moved closer to it. His reflection in the blade was that of the Valeyard. His back straightened in surprise. How could that be? How was the Valeyard involved? Was he caught in this sword? As the Master and Hecate Faust continued discussing, the Doctor retrieved a bag he kept in a cupboard of the console room. With a wad of cloth, he carefully picked up the three pieces, and put them in the bag. All the while, he had been considering events, which had thrown quite a mess of surprises his way. That the Master knew of Goethe's Faust was a surprise -- one which implied that perhaps he had been speaking the truth: that the evil of his "youth" of ten thousand years ago was truly a thing of the past.

 "... so you are but a figment of the Evil One's imagination, eh? Well, that would make you dangerous in my book, but --"

 "My good Master," the Doctor interrupted, "could you please look at your reflection in your sword."

 "Certainly, my dear Doctor," the Master returned snidely. He turned the blade, to perceive himself. "Why, I have lost all my gray! How have I regained such youth!?"

 The Doctor looked tired. "You still have the gray. You see your evil self there. The self you were. Have you fought with him already? Did you win? For in my sword, I have seen my self. Only with silent Wil's help here was I able to defeat myself."

 Wil, who had been silently sitting in the sofa chair all the while, got up, bowed sarcastically, and plopped back down.

 "No, Doctor," the Master responded carefully, "I have fought no battle of self today. I fought such a battle 10000 years ago. Perhaps that is the reason why I do not need to fight it today. Perhaps I have already defeated my demon. You must not ignore the possibility that I have lost, though. Be wary of me, still. I warn you well."

 Slowly, the Master turned to Hecate Faust. "Look in here, please, and tell me what you see," he told her.

 "I see only myself. What'd you expect?"

 "I expect you are your own demon.

 "Here is your wager," he continued, "though I am not your devil. Your Faust must defeat your Hecate, or your Hecate must defeat your Faust. Neither is evil, neither good. Your battle is but one of the many skirmishes that must be fought for this Time War. Now, come all. We will now seek the Evil One, and confine him as was done by the Three before."

 "We will do more than seek him," the Doctor agreed, "we will find him."

 With this, he hung his bag over his shoulder and turned towards the console.

 This epic story has just begun,
Where O where shall it lead us?
We will not know until it's done.
Patience marks the virtuous.

 To be continued...