The Veil Lifted

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Tish clenched her jaw in repressed annoyance. This little boy was obnoxious. She briefly considered slamming the door on his foot, but decided against it. She really didn't want to hear from his parents' lawyers. She rolled her eyes.

"Child," she forced through a plastic smile, "Go play elsewhere. Your sister awaits. There appears to be a youth with a cardboard sword running around. Try challenging him to a duel."

She nodded slightly to the girl on the garden path. No, little girl, it seemed to convey, I won't steal your little brother. No worries. I don't want him. You can keep him.

Tish waved her hand dismissively.

"Off with you. Go bother the old lady next door."

[Bêthberry]

"Do you think anyone will recognise us?"

The tall, somewhat willowy woman in the orange robes of a Buddist had scanned the neighourhood, marking young humans in mythological and Middle-earth costumes and catching sight of some shod, short souls who she knew would receive a scathing lecture from the Hobbiton Garden Club--the very thought of hobbits succumbing to the fetish of leather over their feet!

'Blunderbusses and horseflies, I can only hope," replied a very hirsuite fellow clad in armour from head to foot, but armour which couldn't possibly hide all his long, growing, glowing, beautiful hair. It was a luxury he allowed himself now that he was no longer in the army. "Hello, sweet lady!" he immediately beamed to a very distraught looking woman, her skirts flying about her, but before she could reply his eye caught site of a very fetching woman clad in black, stubbing out a cigarette, the whiff of which sent him off on fantasies--of trade. He stepped forward to speak to her, wondering which quotation from The Silm or UT would put him in the best light as a substantiated former of Tolkien opinion.

"Bruce, get your mind get your mind out of Books. This is a Mirth night, an RPG night, not a scholarly night." He glared glumly at the woman, who had a reputation as one who took Books a bit too lightly. "Maril," he began, but was quickly interrupted.

"Look at what those rugrats are doing to that cat. And that bird! Honestly, you'd think everyone here has succumbed to that wretched view of wildlife which Tolkien promulgated."

'Now, Birdie, wait and see what happens. We're not here to interrupt the Guising for All Barrows Eve. We're here to haunt the Downs."

"Haunt, schmaunt," replied the woman addressed as Birdie, whose name really was Birdland, "I'm here to pretend we're the Lollygag Guild. I hear some people are whining that the Downs has become too sedate. I'll show them sedate."

The three wights wafted down the street, walking into and through garbage cans and walls, trick r treaters and lamp poles, as was the wont of wights of eld. It had been a long time since any of the three had made an appearance on the Downs but none of them was the sort to make any bones about silly nonsense that only one poster could lay claim to brilliance and genius on the Downs.

[Celuien]

The chase came to an end. Four children - the two Becca had been chasing and two others - stood together in front of a small house. Midnight squirmed uncomfortably over the shoulder of the girl who had been at Becca's door. The cat spotted Becca and freed herself from the child's grasp with a sudden twist. Becca scooped her up from the ground and as she gently stroked her fur, Midnight calmed down and began to purr contentedly.

Becca's eyes flashed indignantly. She glared at the children, not softened (as she would usually have been) by the nervous look of fear her visitors now wore with their costumes. Had 'Aragorn' not been watching from one side and an older girl standing guard on the other, she was certain that they would have fled.

"Why did you do that? You ought to be ashamed of yourselves?"

[Dimturiel]

Darlariel did not know how long she had sat alone with her thougths, memories of her past mixing with her reflections on the present until she had not been able to discern any diference between them. Suddenly she was abruptly brought back to reality by a voice sounding quite near her. She turned around to have a better look at the one who had adressed her, slightly intrigued by the way he talked. She saw an old man, leaning on a staff, with an owl nestled on his shoulder. For a moment, she was too taken aback by his appearance to be able to answer his request, but then something else happened, something she had not expected.

"I believe you are Darlariel."the old man said."My fine lady Darlariel, can you help me find the library?"

Darlariel felt her heart miss a beat when she heard the old man, calling her so casually on the name she had not used for such a long time, a name she was sure all those that had once heard it had forgotten it by now. She took a step backwards, her eyes fixed on that strange apparition that seemed to know so much about her. Who was he? What did he actually want and why had he come exactly to her? Could it be that her greatest dream, her burning desire was now going to come true? But...but how?

All these queries were in Darlariel's dazled mind, and all of them were demanding to be answered immediately. Yet when she opened her mouth to speak, her lips could utter no more than one question.

"How...how do you know this name?" she whispered. "How do you know I call myself this?"

She wondered whether he had not seen her when she was a child, whether he had not heard how proudly she had spoken her name then. Yet, no, it could not be that. She had changed since then, he would not recognise her. And she did not remember seeing such a quaint old man before. Where did he come from? Was he...was he from...? Yet how could he be? Darlariel looked at the man, trying to look more determined than she felt, and hoping that her voice would not tremble from the emotions that were inside her.

"I will lead you wherever you want, Sir." she told him. "Yet fisrt you must tell me who you are. And why did you call me by that name?"

[Noinkling]

Daisy ran up the steps, plastic sacks in hand. ‘Where are we from?’ she said, hearing the new fellow’s question. She looked at her three friends, her eyes narrowing. ‘Well, from around…here…and sort of…sideways to this place.’

‘What she means to say,’ picked up Bran hastily, ‘is that we don’t come here…‘here’, often.’ ‘And really,’ he went on, giving her a smirking sort of look, ‘she’s not that good with directions.’

Ferdy smoothed out his vest, tugging down at the hem. He ran his fingers through his curly hair, then looked down at his feet. ‘You know, I saw some of those young folk, the ones dressed Hobbitwise. They were wearing shoes on their feet.’ He looked round at his companions. ‘Think we oughta?’ he asked, wriggling his toes.

[piosenniel]

*cough . . .

‘The New Ford Library?’ Gilli looked sideways at Jack and shook her head at the question. ‘It’s closed at this hour, isn’t it m’dear? Just how are you proposing to get in?’

From out on the street that crossed the alleyway came the pattering of many feet; the sounds of young voices calling out to one another, laughing. A part of her wanted to run out to join them, sack swinging as she skipped along. Traces of chocolate and sticky lollys round her lips and on her cheeks. She’d loved this holiday....still did, if truth be told. The veil between the everyday world and what worlds might lie beyond grew thin and sometimes even disappeared altogether. She smiled, remembering those few brief times when she’d glimpsed something beyond what her everyday senses told her.

Ah, well.... she thought to herself. Those glimpses are a rare thing these older days.

She shrugged, and looked toward Jack again, sizing him up. ‘Of course, there is you....’ she said aloud. ‘And I did once actually sing a few bars with two of my best girls in the upstairs carrels. Of course, Old Ms. Shrewsbry quickly put an end to that.’ Gilli picked up her little backpack and her fiddle case, hoisting the one to her shoulders while the handle of the old wooden case was grasped tight in her fist.

Maybe there was room for a little magic tonight....

‘Sure! I’m up for it. Let’s go!’ She hurried along, trying to keep up with her companion’s long stride. ‘So, you haven't told me....just how are you thinking of getting us in?’

[Firefoot]

A small yelp escaped Raven's lips as she turned to see the witch lady standing there, already holding her cat, already looking quite self-satisfied again. She was trapped. Trapped! The older girl on one side and behind her, the witch lady in front, and a boy menacingly brandishing a cardboard sword on her other side. And now the lady was talking to them! Raven cringed; any time now, the curse would come; what would she do? Turn them into toads? Make them vanish? Take away all their candy?

"...You ought to be ashamed of yourselves."

"N - ye -"

"It was her idea," Tucker answered defensively. Raven spared her brother a brief glare.

"It was going to give us bad luck," she said sullenly, staring at her slippered feet but also watching for an opportunity to bolt. With support like that, Tucker could fend for himself.

[Child of the 7th Age]

"Darlariel, I am afraid you have me at an advantage. Unless you tell me where the library is, I may be walking in circles for the next four hours. And I must get there quickly. Your questions, however, are not easy to answer. You must excuse me if I talk in riddles. It is only that Hedwig and I see so few folk during the year. We live in the woods west of town in a snug cottage made of wood and thatch. Sometimes a young lad or lass will come by and drop off an injured bird or squirrel that needs to be nursed back to health. I have been called by many different names over the years, but to those young ones I am the "Bird-tamer". That name is probably as good as any."

"As to your next question.....how I knew your true name?" Aiwendil paused and stared blankly into the misty shadows, wondering how he would ever explain this in a way that would not seem too wildly implausible. He tried out half a dozen stories in his mind but the only one that made any sense was the explanation that came the closest to being the real truth. "You see, Darlariel, you are an open and friendly person and your thoughts came spilling out to me. And somewhere, amid all those lovely thoughts, I clearly heard and saw the name Darlariel. Back home we have a name for that sort of thing. Generally, it's called osanwe."

"But please, that's enough preliminaries. I need to get to that library as quickly as I can. I would be much obliged if we could go now."

[Dimturiel]

Darlariel had listened to the old man's explanations, frowning slightly. Indeed, he spoke in riddles, but riddles she thought she could understand. "Bird-tamer" was a name that told her many things, and so did everything else that the man had said about himself. But she spoke nothing of her thoughts. She was not sure of them, for one thing, and also, the sensible part of her brain-the part that she hated most-was telling her that most likely the man could be mad. Yet that did not explain how he had known her name.

Darlariel waved her thoughts aside. Whoever the man was and whatever he wanted was not her business. He had asked for her help and that was the only thing that mattered. Darlariel had never backed out when someone required her aid, so why should she now? It was not a hard thing he was asking her to do, she could find the library with her eyes closed, having spent many a hour in there. Therefore she nodded slowly, looking the old man straight in the eye.

"Very well, master Bird-tamer," she said, "I will take you and Hedwig to the library. It is not far from here. Let us go, then."

They started walking, and Darlariel could not take her eyes from her new acquaintance. There was something about him that fascinated her. And she knew that it would have been like this even if he had not said all the amazing things he had told her, even if she had not known who he was. "But maybe he is not who you believe him to be."a voice inside her protested. "How could he be? Maybe he has lost his mind, all because he has been dreaming all his life,just as you have, for the world of almost forgotten legends. Maybe he is like this because, just as you, he refused to acknowledge the world he lived in and sought refuge in the ancient lays." Yet what was to acknowledge in such a world? What could be found in those times save a dull, tiresome stream leading nowhere and lacking all meaning and all splendour?

Darlariel looked around her. Everything had gone quiet, or maybe it was her uneasy mind that made it seem so. This was the night when terrible things happened, or so old tales said. Who could tell what unknown dark creatures lurked in the dark places of the city ready to waylay the unwary. Darlariel felt a shiver run down her spine. Wanting to draw away from her that feeling of uneasiness, she began talking with her new companion:

"You told me very few things about yourself, master Bird-tamer," she began, "Yet I did not find it hard to understand your riddles. You spoke to me of osanwe. Well let me tell you that I know very well what that means and who used it. And also there is your name, and your friendship with your owl, Hedwig. I have rarely seen something like this. Now you call yourself "Bird-tamer", yet I believe that back home you had other names that sounded fairer. Let me see. Could one of these possibly be...Radagast? Or perhaps...Aiwendil?"

[Celuien]

What on earth? Bad luck?

Becca hadn't been expecting that answer from the children. She knew, of course, that black cats were supposed to be unlucky, but didn't think that anyone took the idea seriously. She didn't. If anything, Midnight had brought her only good luck since the day two years earlier when Becca picked a tiny jet black kitten from a neighbor's litter. She scratched behind the cat's ears and Midnight nestled her head into the crook of Becca's arm, purring.

The children looked more nervous by the moment.

"Black cats bad luck." Becca shook her head. "I suppose you think I'm a witch too."

The girl looked more startled than if she had been caught with her hand in a cookie jar. "Ye-n-n-n-no," she stammered.

It was Becca's turn to be startled. Startled and amused at the silly notions in the girl's head. The corner of her mouth twitched, hinting at a grin despite her irritation.

"Now that's just silly. Hmmph. What's your name?"

Terror entered the girl's face. "R-r-r-a--v-ven...and this is my brother Tucker." Becca forced herself to stifle a chuckle. Raven wasn't about to give her name without making sure that her brother was identified too.

"Well, Raven and Tucker. Though I'm sure we're almost neighbors, we don't seem to know each other very well. That's a shame, but it seems the way of the city these days. I can tell you that I'm harmless and that Midnight is the sweetest cat who ever lived, but I have a feeling you won't take my word for it. What do I have to do to fix that?"