Disclaimer

None of the characters or places in the following story belong to me. They belong to their respective authors, Susan Cooper and Tamora Pierce.

This is a fan fiction about what happens next to Will Stanton at the end of The Dark Is Rising Sequence, and crosses into the Song Of The Lioness series. I tried to change each of the series as little as possible.

I was browsing through other Dark Is Rising fanfictions the other day, last Tuesday actually, and I read another Dark Is Rising/Song Of The Lioness by author norah-hunt. She's a good author but I think it's important to mention that I did not copy her work as I had already had my idea in mind before to reading her story.

Chapter 1

Will Stanton had grown accustomed to not constantly be watching over his shoulder for signs of an uprising now that the Dark had been vanquished. He didn't have to worry about the world being thrown into chaos, or about his family and friends being targeted by his enemies. He had no more enemies to worry about. Except the usual bullies that a seventeen-year-old boy is liable to encounter at school.

Will had turned seventeen recently, and today – a Saturday – he was due to take his driving test. The past year Will had been learning to drive in his father's old manual, and he couldn't wait to get his license that afternoon.

However, it was that day, a week after his seventeenth birthday, that Will felt a stirring in the Balance. It lasted for only a moment, but after years of equilibrium the smallest ripple set Will on edge and brought the Old One to the surface.

Logically, there could be no reason for the blip in balance. The Dark had been defeated, and the Light had left the world of Man. So there was no explanation. This worried Will more than anything and made him even more determined to discover the source of the imbalance.

Pulling on a coat over his shirt Will raced out of the house in search of whatever it was that had caused the disturbance he had felt. He realised he was leaving his village behind as he crossed a field and found himself in the forest. It was quiet among the trees, but Will wasn't fooled by the tranquillity. He knew what he had felt, and the Old One trusted himself more than anything else.

And then he could hear voices, not far ahead of him, and he knew he was no longer in the wood by his home. He was somewhere else entirely. At the ends of the earth? He could only guess.

"Master, if I could just have a little more power – just a little … it would make my task so much easier …" a quiet, almost sly, voice pleaded.

"Task?" a second voice, barely distinguishable as feminine, barked with laughter, "It is your destiny, it is no task. It is your life."

"And yet, it serves your purposes, does it not? And what if one of your enemies should come to me? Would I have the strength to match his? For surely he will crush me otherwise … and your plans also …"

"There will be no enemy of mine to watch for, only the enemies you make for yourself in your world. And in your world, have I not already made you matchless?"

"Yes my master … I should not have questioned you, forgive me … you have given me so much and what you ask in return is so little … for you, the Dark shall rise in Tortall. Do not doubt me."

The Dark! Will Stanton had heard enough. His body flared with bright shining Light as the Old One rose from his niche in Will's soul and shook away the dust of the years he had been buried under.

As he stepped out into the clearing, the creature of the Dark spun, almost as if she had been stung, and the man knelt before her shrieked as the Light burned his eyes. The creature of the Dark ignored her servant and stared.

"Well, so you are Will Stanton," said the Dark at last, "what brings you to this wood, darkest wood of your world?"

"Let's not prolong this meeting with insincere niceties. You are banished from here. Be gone, for you may not trouble this world again. Your time here was ended."

The woman-creature of the Dark nodded in acknowledgement. "Aye, the Six ended the time of the Dark in this world. But there are other worlds, Will Stanton, that you do not watch."

With that, the Dark and her snivelling servant departed in a billowing of black smoke. Will Stanton stood transfixed, shimmering with a brightness equalling that of the sword Eirias. Other worlds? He knew of those. They were not his concern. Only this world, this earth, was his to watch. And yet… was he not the Watchman, last of the Old Ones? Was it not his sacred duty to the Light to stamp out the Dark wherever it might foster?

"I am glad you came to that conclusion, Watchman of the Light, else I could not have bridged the gap between our worlds, even in this crossing-place, where the barriers are so thin." Said a voice, light and musical and unearthly.

Will blinked, and saw a black-skinned man in golden armour standing in front of him. Will could tell straightaway that he was not an ordinary man, as he had known that the creature of the Dark was not an ordinary woman.

"Friend." Will Stanton knew he was in the presence of a Lord of Light from the impression his aura left in the air around him and despite himself, he was awed.

"I am Mithros, a so-called god of the world of Tortall."

"You are not quite a god, and your world stands under threat of dominion of the Dark."

"Very intuitive. The world from which I come is under direct threat of conquest, and I can do nothing, placed as I am as half-god and bound by the law of the High Magic."

"Nor can the Dark do anything, directly," guessed Will, "the High Magic is just."

Mithros nodded. "The Dark has influenced certain individuals to do its bidding."

"By the code of the Light, you can use no such bribery or enchantment on the innocent yourself."

"I cannot. So here is my appeal to you."

"Your world is not mine."

"And yet you feel responsible, Watchman." Mithros reminded him gently.

"I know none of the customs, none of the languages. None of the people. What chance would there be for me?" Will asked.

Mithros regarded him for a moment. "You know those discrepancies between our worlds would not hinder you. Yet there is one thing you do not know that would delay your progress. The gods of my world are very familiar with certain people. In particular, the one they call the Goddess – the Lady of the High Magic – she has distributed powers of the High Magic to some of the people as birth Gifts, to do with as they will."

"Incredible." It was mind-blowing. There were ordinary people with god-like powers just walking around? And that was normal?

"Perhaps," agreed Mithros, "everything else, I believe, is much the same. And I can give you no help that you cannot already give yourself."

Will grinned. "I would not expect it."

Mithros smiled back good-naturedly, "Then you will go? Your mission is to prevent the rising of the Dark in the world, and to accomplish it you must find the agents of the Dark, and defeat them. There are no artefacts that might tip the balance in your favour."

Will Stanton inclined his head. "That is my purpose. But what would be the consequences of this … venture?"

Mithros shrugged, "If you defeat the Dark, you will be returned to the exact moment and place that you left. If you fail?" He let the implications hang between them.

Will squared his shoulders, "If I fail there will be nothing for me here. I shall not fail. Only, before I go, tell me – who was that servant of the Dark? Who can I trust to help me? Am I alone?"

"No," Mithros assured him. "That man, servant of Rissena of the Dark, was Duke Roger of Conté, currently of Corus. A powerful sorcerer in his world, and cousin to King Roald of Tortall. Still, there is one who hates him with destructive energy, a girl, Gifted by the High Magic, who masquerades as a squire. She is Alanna of Trebond. I will arrange a meeting for you."

Will frowned, "Squire?"

"A person soon to be made a knight." Mithros supplied easily.

"Excuse me?"

"You have no knights here?" asked Mithros in surprise.

"Once, hundreds of years ago." Will told him.

Mithros raised his eyebrows in surprise, "Then our worlds are not as alike as I supposed. Your time is much more advanced."

"It will make no difference," said Will after a moment's thought, "I have seen the history of man unfold, I have existed as long as time itself. As have you."

Mithros smiled. "Then go Old One, and succeed."

Will nodded, feeling his shoulders sag a little from the burden he had just accepted. He had not felt such a weight of responsibility since last he had fought the Dark. He recalled every memory of that frantic time. It was necessary that he remember the ways of the Dark, so that he stood that much more prepared to face it again in this new conflict.

"I am ready." Prepare yourself, Roger of Conté. Be afraid, Rissena of the Dark. I come for you.

Moments later there was a flash of brilliance, and Will found himself tumbling into an abyss of nothingness, the ground having vanished inexplicably from beneath his feet. He stretched out his arms on either side of him, but felt no walls. He could not see, his eyes blinded by the brightness of the light. But he was not afraid. His life had been given new cause. A new world awaited him. The part of Will Stanton inside the mind of the Old One was thrilled.