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"THE LAST OF THE DALS – A CHILDHOOD DAVROS TALE THAT TRAVELS DARK PATHS"

Temi Oh’s The Last of the Dals, from Origin Stories, dares to do something few Doctor Who stories have ever attempted: humanise Davros. Not the unhinged creator of the Daleks, nor the raving, half-machine dictator of Skaro—but Davros the child. And somehow, against all odds, it works. By painting a portrait of the infamous villain as a young boy with hope, conviction, and curiosity, Oh creates a layered, unsettling narrative about destiny, choice, and the thin line between good intentions and monstrous outcomes.

THE BOY WHO COULD HAVE BEEN GOOD

Davros here is not the megalomaniacal figure we’ve seen in Genesis of the Daleks or The Magician’s Apprentice. He is presented as a brilliant, idealistic young boy, living with his mother amidst the desolation of the Kaled–Thal war. He wants to end the conflict, not perpetuate it. He dreams not of extermination, but of peace and purpose. That tension—between who he is and who we know he’ll become—drives the entire story and gives it a powerful tragic weight.

What’s clever is how Oh uses Davros’ youthful intellect and moral questioning to build sympathy without ever fully redeeming him. He’s clearly a special child, but also one with shadows gathering around his heart. His conversations with Elwyn—an idealist who serves as both guide and warning—reveal a boy teetering on the brink between salvation and damnation.

SKARO REIMAGINED

Oh’s descriptions of Skaro are vivid and immersive. The radioactive wilderness, ruined cities, and bleak landscape are brought to life with almost mythic detail. A particular highlight is the scene where Davros and Elwyn traverse the Lake of Mutations, their boat attacked by decaying hands reaching from beneath the surface. It’s pure gothic horror and evokes imagery from The Lord of the Rings’ Dead Marshes or Harry Potter’s inferi-infested cave. Skaro becomes a character in its own right—unforgiving, twisted, and hauntingly atmospheric.

The structure of the story is almost quest-like: a journey through the wastes to the Dal city, a confrontation with the truth of Davros’ future, and an inevitable betrayal. Along the way, we get effective action beats and some quieter, philosophical exchanges that ask timeless Doctor Who questions about time, destiny, and whether knowledge of the future can truly change it.

“I WON’T BECOME THAT”

The beating heart of the story lies in Davros’ confrontation with a holographic prophecy: a vision of his future as the twisted creator of the Daleks. His horror at what he might become is palpable—and for a brief moment, we’re led to believe he might defy fate. But fate, or perhaps character, wins out in the end.

The final twist—where Davros lets Elwyn fall to his death, either through intent or convenient inaction—chills the blood. It’s a small but crucial moment, revealing that the seeds of the Davros we know are already sprouting. He’s still a child, but already calculating, already ruthless when it suits him. This is not a neat redemption arc. It’s the shaping of a monster.

AN IMPOSSIBLE UNIVERSITY?

There are, admittedly, elements that might cause lore purists to raise an eyebrow. The inclusion of a Skaroan university, for instance, is jarring in the context of a planet supposedly devastated by a centuries-long war. Likewise, Davros living a semi-normal domestic life with his mother feels slightly at odds with his famously grim origins depicted in Genesis of the Daleks and further explored in Big Finish’s Davros.

Still, Oh acknowledges the canon's murkiness by referencing The Magician’s Apprentice, where Davros' child-self was also briefly seen. This is a tale that doesn’t seek to rewrite continuity, but to deepen the emotional and psychological understanding of its subject.

📝THE BOTTOM LINE:

The Last of the Dals is a surprisingly poignant and atmospheric take on Davros’ youth, one that plays with the mythic trappings of Skaro while delivering a character study that’s as tense as it is tragic. It may stretch believability in parts, but its thematic strength, strong structure, and evocative prose more than make up for it. A bold, haunting addition to Doctor Who’s ever-growing tapestry of “what made the monster.”

8/10