The End has Come. The Drought has been released. The shadows double. The nights are darker. The days shorter. The last battle of light and darkness, of fire and ice has come. Hold fast to your torch please, and do not let it go out. This book is the darkest tale yet. The last of the last. The end of the end. The sum total of our journeys together. Would that this darkness had never gotten hold---that it had never found a home in the hearts of men. But it is here, lingering like a disease or a virus overpowering the weak, consuming the light that once was, but now will never be. Darkness, oh the woeful word. How it lingers and clutches. And I, a lowly Twisker, now have a part to play in this grand story. I must ring an ancient, powerful bell, one that will reawaken a world, to give hope to the hopeless. And me the most hopeless of all. How cunning fate is. How just to bad creatures who deserve much worse. Please, do not forget all that I have written. I do not want to be forgotten, nor those whom I write bout. I fear I will not come back from this journey alive. But after the awful things I have done, I wouldn't have it any other way. Yours very humbly, and sincerely, For the last time, Gogindy, Twisker of the Dandelion Den