Companion To An Old One

By PadfootStarr A/N: Please read and review! I rarely do fan fics for the Dark is Rising since I love the series too much to try and mess it up, but something just seized me and made me write this. It's random, with little – close to no – thought put into it. Also, I know it's silly. Oh well, have a sense of humor. ;-D

Will I ever get used to it being this lonely, this cold? I guess not. Can't forget some part of me is still human. My place as the Watcher is only half of my heritage, who I was born to be.

I'm also the seventh son of a seventh son. A student leaving for the university in the fall. A young boy trying to find my place in this, ...interesting world. Best friend to a strange albino Welsh boy, man now I guess. That's why I'm here. Back on the farm to celebrate Bran's twentieth birthday.

It all began here in these hills.

My first task alone. I remember the Gray King, Cadfall, and the Lost Land in the next quest. I remember everything. I wish I didn't.

Don't get me wrong, I understand completely why Bran would chose to stay and forget, and the Drews didn't have a choice. They played their part in the game, then had the most important moments in their lives taken away in an instant. Everything wiped clean, only to surface in their deepest dreams.

Why couldn't I have that choice? Why I couldn't have been normal? Even if it meant being like Bran, unaware of my heritage, who I was...

I couldn't bear it.

I need to get a cat.

If I won't have anyone to look over me I should have something to look after myself. I'll name it some normal name, no way connected to the past. Or maybe I should name it Arthur and see Bran's reaction. See if it sparked any memories. Probably not.

Ah well.

Will stuck his head inside the door of his Aunt and Uncle's house. "I'm off to the village. I want to see if I can find a kitten."

"A kitten?" His aunt questioned, confusion in her voice.

"I need a cat and I'm off to get one. I'll be back before dark."

"All right," came the response. "Just nothing that will claw up the dormitory furniture."

He shut the door behind himself, stopping on the doorstep to gaze into the distance. His eyes wandered over the hills and valleys in the distance, then to the Old Way that could lead him wherever he should choose.

"Not today," he muttered to himself, bracing against it's call. And off the last son of the Stantons went, down the path to the village to find himself a cat.