Dear reader, it is with surpassing pleasure that I present to you this, the final volume in the epic Zelda saga which is the War of Twilight. To old readers, I thank you for your wonderful and continuing support. To new readers, I introduce you gladly to my pride and joy. This final volume will be shorter than the two preceding it, but promises to bring more drama than all the previous volumes combined. It is a tale of bitter tragedy and plight, which will follow Rael to the conclusion of his hard and tortured journey. The end of all things has come at last. This is my final love letter to Ocarina of Time, and I thank you for reading. I remain as ever, your friend in fanfiction.

The War of Twilight

Volume Five:
The First Ancient Light

Prologue

Fifteen years ago...

The hour was early when Tabett entered the graveyard. It was so early that the sun had not yet peeked above the high cemetery walls, and the sky was still a deep blue-grey. The crisp freshness of morning was in the air, cold dew was clinging to the grass, and birds were singing the dawn chorus in the village.

Tabett's shoes picked up wet dirt as he padded slowly under the high archway of the cemetery. The place was silent. Nothing stirred. No creature would make its bed in this lifeless, hollow place. Tabett liked it here.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his tin flute, and clutched it nervously for comfort. He strode further in, passing the first gigantic tablet and coming to the first row of graves. The burial stones lay flat over graves, covered with letters and numbers which he struggled to read. He touched the closest one, and felt a tingle in his finger as he pressed his flesh against the cold granite. He wondered who slept here, what their name was, when they had lived.

Something moved up ahead and he froze for a moment. Then he ducked behind the headstone and peered out curiously. A tall lean man was striding over from the far side of the graveyard, heading for the old wooden shack by the entrance. As he came closer Tabett recognised him as Stepper, the resident caretaker and undertaker. He was on his morning rounds.

Stepper was walking as though he was almost asleep, and he didn't spot Tabett as he trudged past him to the cabin. Tabett watched until the man had retreated to his humble home, then came out into the open again. He cleared his mop of black hair out of his eyes and carried on through the misty yard. Stepper might not take kindly to seven-year-olds creeping around on his patch.

Tabett was drawn upwards through the cemetery towards the larger headstones at the far side. These were the burial places of important people, whose homes in death were made grand enough to match their status in life. At the top of the graveyard was the largest tombstone of all. It was also one of the newest pieces of stonemasonry, appearing to be quite freshly chiselled compared to the weatherworn ones around it. It marked the entrance to the tomb of the Royal Family. Tabett's mother said that before he was born there had been a great funeral here, as the old king was laid to rest. She said she had caught a glimpse of his daughter, the yet uncrowned Queen, tearful and robed in black.

Tabett put his hand on the tombstone and ran his fingers through the grooves of the inscribed runes, and thought about the fact that even kings would die in the end.

'Good morning, Tabby.'

Tabett jumped and turned around to find Stepper the grave keeper peering down at him with a frown on his face. 'Stepper, sir!' he exclaimed, his heart racing. Under the man's gaze he felt instantly guilty, but he was sure that he had not done anything wrong. 'I'm not doing anything! Please don't tell M'ma I'm here!' he pleaded, clasping his hands together.

Stepper scratched his head and leaned on the haft of his shovel. 'No? Well what might you be doing out here, creepin' about among my stones.'

Tabett did not know what to say. He did not want to get in trouble with his ma for sneaking out of the house, and he could not explain why he liked walking around the graves in the stillness of morning. All he knew was that it made him feel calm.

'Ah, don't worry,' said Stepper. 'I used to wander around here myself as a young'un. Although I waved big ol' stick rather than a flute.'

Tabett shoved his flute back into his pocket and stood sheepishly, shifting his feet and clutching his hands together. He secretly thought of Stepper as one of his favourite grown-ups in the village. At festival time he always gathered the children around the bonfire and told them stories about ghosts and monsters. The stories scared Tabett stiff, but he loved them all the same. If Tabett was better at guessing the ages of adults, he would have said Stepper was a little over thirty years of age, just a bit older than his mother.

'Do you feel it too, child?' said Stepper, looking down at him with watery blue eyes. 'Do you hear the cold call of the dead? When I was your age I heard them calling, and I wandered around these graves every day, just listening to their voices.'

Tabett did not know what to say to that. He had never heard any voices. Was Stepper trying to frighten him? Tabett glanced past the man towards the cemetery gates, and took a step away from Stepper.

'You hurrying away, lad?' asked the older man.

'M'ma needs me,' blurted Tabett.

'Ah, I see, you're a good boy.' Stepper looked down at him thoughtfully for a moment. 'I tell you what, Tabby, if you can stay for a few more minutes, I'll tell you a story. I know that you young'uns love my stories.'

Tabett thought about this for a moment. Stepper was strange, but he did not seem to be a threat, so he agreed. After all, he told the most amazing tales, especially those about the ancient Sheikah sorcerers, and the dark fairy wars.

'All right,' said Stepper, 'sit down with me, and I'll tell you the tale of the Two Brothers.'

Tabett's interest was piqued already - he had never heard this story before - so he sat down on the grass opposite Stepper. His heart beat quickly with nervous excitement. 'Go on,' he said.

'Hundreds of years ago in the land of Hyrule, there were two brothers,' said Stepper, lowering his voice to its spookiest tone.

'Were they Sheikah?' asked Tabett, leaning forwards.

'Perhaps,' said Stepper, 'for they understood the ancient magic of the Sheikah. Indeed, they dedicated their lives to the study of magic and became the most wise and learned men in all the land.'

Tabett was fascinated already.

'One brother devoted himself to the study of the moon, seeking to know of its mystical powers. The other was a student of the sun, and he grew in the knowledge of its bright and shining power. Together, they mapped the ways that the great lights moved through months and seasons in perfect harmony, like clockwork.' Stepper spoke slowly and softly. 'Then one day they began to combine their knowledge of the Sun and Moon with the Sheikah gift for spiritual Sight. They began to see beyond the veneer of this world, and into the very fabric of time. And so in great secrecy, they began a great work. They sought to use magic to manipulate time itself.'

'And what happened then?' asked Tabett.

'They started to go mad,' said Stepper, bluntly. 'At least, that is what everybody believed, for no-one could explain what was happening to them. The magic that they tried to wield was too great for them, and it started to twist their minds. Sight once helped Sheikah to understand the world as it existed around them, but the Two Brothers began to see visions of the future.'

'The future?' repeated Tabett.

Stepper nodded. 'They foresaw a great war. The war to end all wars, at the very end of time. It was to be a war so terrible and dark the Sun and the Moon would no longer move in harmony. They foresaw a day when the sun would give no longer daylight, and the moon would not shine at night, and the world would be lost in utter blackness forever. They named it the Black Day.'

'Gosh,' said Tabett. 'I'm glad that never happened!'

Stepper was silent for a moment, but then he nodded and smiled kindly. 'So am I, Tabby.'

'Did the brothers get better again?' asked Tabett.

'With sorrow I must tell you that they did not, child,' said Stepper. 'They saw visions and dreams until they died, and nobody could help them. Magic is a most dangerous and terrible tool. But even in their madness they kept working, and they wrote down everything that they saw in a book, so that future generations would be warned about the events that were to come.

'Wow...' said Tabett. He paused for a moment and thought about this. He often wondered whether Stepper's stories were true, but if this story was true then maybe that book still existed. 'Is there really a book, Stepper?'

'Indeed, there is,' said the grave keeper.

'Is the story true then?' he said, sitting up straight.

'Of course!' he exclaimed. 'By Din! Do you think I just invent these stories, Tabby?'

Tabett shrugged his shoulders. 'I don't know,' he said, unsurely. 'Maybe.'

Stepper laughed, a deep and full laugh. 'Well, maybe I add my own little details from time to time...'

'Where's the book now?' asked Tabett.

'In Hylia,' said Stepper, suddenly looking a little bit deflated. 'Under lock and key.'

'Oh,' said Tabett, a little bit disappointed himself. He would never be able to see it if it was in the palace.

'I fear I am to blame. The book used to be here in the cemetery, in the royal tomb,' said Stepper, nodding his head towards the grand headstone. 'The book is called the Tome of the Ruler of Death. It's a silly name really, because it just means that it is supposed to be guarded by the Keeper of the Royal Tomb. That's me. But I was a fool and I bloody lost it.' He paused, slightly embarrassed. 'Forgive my tongue, child.'

'What happened?' asked Tabett, excited again at know that this story had taken a surprise turn. Was Stepper just joking with him? He definitely sounded serious.

'Well, if you must know... A couple of years ago the Queen herself showed up here at the cemetery and started asking questions about the story of the brothers, and their prophecies, and the Tome of the Ruler of Death. Like a fool I told her about the Tome, and she went down into the royal tomb and seized it...' Stepper laughed dismally. 'Nothing I could do about it. She had all her guards o' course, and there was this strange man dressed in black who never left her side. If you think that I'm creepy... you should have met him. He seemed a bit too interested in me. Asked if I still had my spooky mask from when I was a kid. How could he know about a thing like that!'

Tabett was hanging on his every word. This was so amazing. Stepper looked down at him and shook his head. 'I probably should have kept that to myself.'

'Stepper?' said Tabett, drawing his attention. 'What happened to the two brothers in the end?'

'Well they died of course,' said the grave keeper. 'And so they were buried... right here.' He pointed to two tombstones standing either side of the royal tomb. 'They stand guard forever over the tomb of the Royal Family.'

Tabett took a step back and looked at the two tombstones in awe. 'That's why you told me that story,' he said.

'Yes...' said Stepper. 'They are known as the Composer Brothers, because they were the musicians of the royal court.' The grave keeper stood quietly for a moment, as he was prone to do. He looked like he was making a difficult decision in his head. At length he drew a deep breath and posed a question to Tabett. 'Would you like to see something very special?' he asked. 'A secret.'

Tabett gave the slightest nod of his head.

'Do you promise not to tell anyone?' said Stepper.

Tabett nodded again.

'Stand back,' he said, turning to face the tombstone of the Royal Family. Tabett obliged, hopping away from the tombstone and watching Stepper with fascination. The man leaned forward and with his foot he tapped the hard stone dais upon which the main headstone rested. He nodded contentedly to himself, and then suddenly he called out many words Tabett did not understand. 'Se buetta e hinn en il asensa ni da!'

Perhaps he really was just trying to scare him now, but he seemed so serious. The grave keeper stood silently for a moment, frowning anxiously at the tombstone. 'I hope that worked,' he said at last. Without warning he took a step forward, as though to walk up onto the dais. But, to Tabett's shock he did not step upwards, but stepped downwards instead. His leg disappeared through the stone tablet, as though sinking into a pool of water. The rest of him quickly followed as he walked on, as though descending a flight of steps, until he had completely vanished into the rock.

Tabett wanted to run or to shout out, but he was frozen in fear and amazement. A moment later he jumped as Stepper's head popped back up through the stone. 'Come along Tabby, follow me!' he said, as though nothing out of the ordinary had taken place, and then promptly disappeared again into the grave.

Overcome with curiosity Tabett took a step towards the tombstone, and looked at it apprehensively. Perhaps this was normal, and the grown-ups just had not told him about it, but he doubted that very much. He stepped towards the dais, and watched as his right foot sank into the rock. He could not feel anything. It was as though the tombstone was just a mirage. He stepped all the way down, shutting his eyes and holding his breath as his head passed through the stone.

When he opened his eyes again he was standing in a wide open cavern. The floor was covered with uneven tiles, and the walls were rough and unremarkable. This looked like the least royal place he could imagine. 'Is this the royal tomb?' he asked, furrowing his brow.

Stepper, who was standing at the far side of the cavern, shook his head. 'Of course not,' he said. 'Just the entrance. The real door is up here.' He pointed to a door up above two stepped ledges. 'When there is a royal death, the tomb is opened up properly, and this room is open to the light of day. It is a bit grim the rest of the time.'

'How did we walk through the tombstone?' asked Tabett.

'I'm the Ruler of Death,' said Stepper, with a wink. 'And there's always old Sheikah tricks to be found where there's death. They were a dark lot, you know, Tabby. Tales aside, we're better off without them here in Kakariko.'

'You mean without them anywhere at all,' corrected Tabett. 'You told me that they all died.'

'Yes,' said Stepper, with a curt nod. 'That's what I meant. Come up here lad.'

Stepper gave Tabett a leg-up the two ledges, and then clambered up after him. They were faced by a door covered in a lot of angular symbols that looked like ancient language. Stepper touched the door just so, and it slid open of its own accord. Tabett jumped in surprise, then followed Stepper into the tomb proper.

The door slammed shut behind them, and suddenly a wave of dread passed over Tabett. He was alone in a dark tomb with Stepper, a man who was creepier than anyone else on his most normal days. Outside in the cemetery he was sure he could trust him, but in here Tabett felt very alone. He could do nothing but follow along in the man's wake.

This room had a lower ceiling, and smoother stone walls. In the middle of the room were wide rectangular pools of dark water, around which Stepper and Tabett had to criss-cross. 'Glad you're seeing the place like this,' said Stepper. 'When I first became grave keeper, this place was infested with foul, undead creatures. The lingering work of the old Gerudo king. His evil touched every hidden corner of this world. Pray that he never returns, Tabby. It took more than just a prayer to clear this place up before we laid King Rahyl to rest though.'

'You buried the king? But that was years ago!' exclaimed Tabett. 'How long have you been here?'

'I was about fifteen then, so that that was twenty year' past. My old master and mentor Dampé passed his shovel on to me shortly after that burial. Then he followed the King into the ground a few months later.' Stepper whistled. 'Twenty years as the grave keeper,' he said, shaking his head, 'sometimes I wish the Brothers had found a way to cheat time.'

Stepper led Tabett through a narrow tunnel, and they emerged into yet another chamber, and it seemed they had reached their destination. This room had a rectangular pool of water on each side of a narrow walkway. At the end of the walkway there was a raised dais, lit by two flaming torches. 'Sheikah magic of course,' muttered Stepper as they walked between the flames. On the far wall there was a tablet inscribed with writing, and as they came closer Tabett could see that the writing was modern Hylian lettering, but with his limited schooling he still struggled to read it.

'This is as far as I can take you,' said Stepper. 'Behind this tablet are the burial halls of the Kings and Queens of old. It stretches deep into Death Mountain, underneath the Shadow Temple.'

'The what?' asked Tabett.

'The Lair of the Amethyst Snake,' said Stepper, quietly, more to himself than to Tabett. 'Nothing important, young'un.' Stepper placed a hand on the inscription on the wall. 'This is what I wanted to show you though. Can you read this?'

Tabett shook his head, ashamedly.

'Do not fear,' he said. 'Fortunately Dampé taught me my letters. It reads...

The rising sun will eventually set,

A newborn's life will fade.

From sun to moon, moon to sun,

Give peaceful rest to the living dead.

Restless souls wander

Where they don't belong,

Bring them calm with

The Sun's Song.'

Stepper ran a finger underneath the lines of writing for Tabett's benefit, folding his hands together once he had finished reading.

'I don't understand,' said Tabett, honestly, wondering why Stepper was so keen to show him this.

'It is the final part of the tale of the Two Brothers,' said Stepper, quietly. 'This is a piece of history that you are seeing, my boy.'

'Did the brothers write this?' asked Tabett.

'They most certainly did,' said Stepper, rubbing his hands together. 'It describes a vision of the future. A prophecy like those in the Tome.'

'Do you know what it means?'

Stepper shrugged his shoulders. 'I can tell you what Dampé told me, and what his Master told him, but I'm no prophet.'

'Go on,' insisted Tabett.

'It refers to the Black Day: the last day of the great war in the twilight of our world. The day when the Sun will set forever, and the Moon will fade away, and even the lives of the young will be extinguished. On that day there will be a rising of the dead, and those who are without rest will return to the land of the living to finish what they could not do in life.'

The Black Day? The dead rising? Was this just a story or was it really supposed to come true? 'I'm scared, Stepper,' said Tabett, shrinking away from the tablet. 'I don't like this.'

Stepper crouched down and put a hand on his shoulder. 'Sorry lad,' he said. 'I shouldn't have brought you down here.' He sighed. 'But look, the Composer Brothers have left us with hope. After they had seen visions of the Black Day they decided that they had to do something to stop it. They thought that if somebody could summon the Sun and the Moon back into the world, then the world could be saved. And so the Elder brother worked tirelessly to affect the Sun by his magic, and the Younger brother sought to influence the Moon. This...' he said, pointing to a scrawled carving on the tablet, 'is what they left behind.'

Tabett stepped up the tablet again and examined a section of wall below the engravings. A pattern had been hastily chiselled into the wall beneath the tablet, as though there had been no time to carve it neatly.

'It is the Sun's Song,' said Stepper. 'The hope for salvation on the Black Day, should it ever befall Hyrule. As the grave keeper, the Ruler of Death, I am charged to guard this song until I pass its secret onto another.'

'But you just told me!' exclaimed Tabett.

Stepper laughed. 'Don't worry, lad, I'm not giving up my shovel just yet. I haven't taught you how to play the song, have I?'

'Oh. No...' said Tabett, shaking his head.

'And you cannot read musical script, can you?' Stepper added, presumptively, at which Tabett shook his head.

'So how did the brothers die?' asked Tabett.

Stepper's lips thinned, and his right foot twitched in his boot. 'I have told you enough grim tales, I think, Tabby.'

'No please,' said Tabett, bouncing once on the balls of his feet. 'Tell me.'

Stepper was not difficult to persuade. 'They were murdered,' he said.

'By who?' asked Tabett, shocked that anyone would kill such great artists and prophets.

'A dark fairy,' said Stepper. 'A foul and cruel spirit, hanging on from the fairy wars of the ancient days. He wanted to steal the secrets of their lives' work, and use their power to control the whole world. One day he attacked the Hylian palace, where the brothers lived. The brothers knew that they did not have long to live. The elder brother told the younger brother to flee, whilst he fought off the demon. Though he died fighting, he delayed the dark fairy just enough for his younger brother to run to the masonry, where this tablet had been recently finished, and to scratch the Sun's Song onto it – here. No sooner than he had finished inscribing the song, the demon descended upon the younger brother and killed him too.'

'So the song was saved,' said Tabett, 'at the last moment.'

'As in all great stories,' said Stepper, ruffling Tabett's hair. 'And I think this one is at an end now for you. Come on, let's go, Tabby.'

Stepper made to leave, but Tabett stood still. 'Stepper, is all of this true?' he asked.

Stepper rubbed his neck with a hand. 'I have told you what I know to be true,' he said. Then he laughed. 'But I suppose it is possible the Composer Brothers may have just been mad.'

'And if they weren't,' said Tabett, 'then what they said is really important, and we shouldn't let it be forgotten.'

'Yes,' said Stepper, 'that's true.'

Tabett took his old tin flute out of his pocket, and held it up so that Stepper could see it. It glimmered in the light of the enchanted torch flames. 'So teach me the Sun's Song,' he said.

Stepper's eyes shone in the dim chamber, looking upon Tabett with a gaze that suggested either fear or reverence, or perhaps both, though Tabett was oblivious to the fervour in his expression. 'Very well', said the grave keeper.

...

And though he had lost
That which he had loved
The saviour did take up his crown.

And when he arose
In glory and power
The world proclaimed his renown.

His tears dried our eyes
His wounds made us whole
Our vict'ry was won by his strife.

His pain restored joy
His fear restored hope
By his death we have new life.