The Veil Lifted

[Celuien]

Becca watched the children hurry away.

"Bad luck and witches," she murmured to Midnight. "Is that really what they think?" She scratched Midnight's chin, lost in thought. Becca hardly noticed trick'r'treaters passing her in the streets as she slowly made her way homeward.

Outside her house, there was a bright swath of light coming from her hallway. She had left her door open in her earlier panic, and it still sat slightly ajar, illuminating the dark street below with a soft glow. Becca closed the door, and the street was dark again.

"They don't understand at all, do they?" She put Midnight on the ground and checked her candy bowl. The trick'r'treaters had helped themselves in her absence. Becca didn't mind. She had bought the candy to give away, and the children were more than welcome to it. She refilled the bowl with her last bag of chocolate. But there was another treat still hidden in a cupboard in the kitchen. A special treat.

Becca opened the cabinet. A plate of white cupcakes glistened on the shelf. Sugar leaves sparkled on top of each cupcake.

"It's a special recipie, Midnight. Twenty-four cupcakes. All of them special, but one more than the others. One is very special. It was hard to do, but it's time." She added wistfully, "Yes. It's time."

[Dimturiel]

Darlariel followed the other three in the library, yet once she was there she stood slightly apart from them. They seemed to have a very important business there, and she did not want to be more of an inconvenience to them than she already was. Of course, none of them had spoken against her coming, but she still felt too much of an outsider.

Darlariel headed to the nearest bookshelf. She was delighted to read the name "Tolkien" on most of the books there. She drew from the shelf an old edition of the "Felowship of the Ring". But she did not open it. Instead, she stood as if deep in thought, stroking the cover with a seemingly mechanical gesture, yet in that caress there was more love and gratitude than even she realised she had. She blushed, suddenly remembering that she was not alone. Hastily, she put the book back, hoping that no one had noticed her.

She felt uneasy, and she found it difficult to hide it. Strange, that she should feel like this here, she thought. Usually the library was among the only places where she felt secure, untouchable by the troubles and perils of the world. Yet tonight she felt that it was not so. Maybe it was only because of what Aiwendil had told her, but what if it meant something more than that? She cast a worried glance over her shoulder.

But immediately she felt ashamed of her fear. "So you were once saying how much admiration you have for the heroes of old, were you not? " a reproachful voice sounded in her mind. "Well what would Aragorn and the others say if they could see you now? " Yet she knew that they would have nothing against her fear if she ignored unesainess and stood her ground.

Gilli began playing a merry tune at her fiddle. Darlariel smiled at her, unable to hide her gratitude. Such fair song would surely frighten any being that delighted in darkness and haterd. They would surely fade, unable to bear such proof of the light and beauty of the world.

Darlariel turned to Aiwendil. His attention was fixed on the screen in front of him. Daralriel looked over his shoulder. She had often thought of joining such sites as the ones Aiwendil was looking at. What would be more delightful than being able to talk about the things she liked with people that shared her passion? Yet she knew that this would not truly provide her with the peace for which she was so desperately searching. Maybe it would be fun, and also fullfiling from an academic point of view, but that was all. No, she had long decided that help would not come from that direction. But then, from where would it come?

[littlemanpoet]

Sid had been making the rounds and his pillow case was half full. He had made sure the kids, Raven and Tucker, had made it safely back to a lighted sidewalk and with firm words not to go cat stealing anymore, left them to their mischief.

He was walking down a block that he had been down before but couldn't remember having stopped out all the houses. Of course! This was the house Becca had come running out of! Sid smiled. Then he wondered if she would recognize him at all. He swallowed. Probably not. He frowned. He shook his head hard. Silly. It was Halloween and nobody recognized anybody anyway, so just get the candy and don't worry about it.

But it would be nice if she remembered. She was a pretty lady especially when she smiled at him. He'd never say such a thing to anybody, especially not his friends! - but he could think it if he wanted.

He walked up Becca's sidewalk and prepared to say those hallowed words, wondering why the butterflies were flitting in his stomach.

[Undómë]

The stars were strange in Far Harad, and the Moon rode higher on his courses through the sky above that far south land, and the Sun was not kindly to the dry sands beneath her chariot by day.

The people of that far south land were gathering for war, and every man, woman, child, and beast was conscripted for the work of preparing for battle. Their old enemies, the cruel men of Gondor, would finally meet their fate at the hands of Sauron, Lord of Mordor.

Jack read over Aiwendil’s shoulder, his eyes narrowing at the small green letters floating on their black background. It was a bilious combination. And, though he had the adamantine constitution of the Fair Folk of old, it really did make him a little queasy.

‘’Let me just adjust that,’ he said, stepping around the older man and slipping his hand onto the mouse. In an economy of clicks the eerie screens had changed to a manageable black and white and the size of the text was now large enough to be read with ease. He scrolled back up to the top of the page. ‘Interesting title – The Simian Shadow of Far Harad. Now what’s got you so alarmed about it?’

Gilli played softly now in the background. The notes of her song seemed to push back the shadows that hovered along the edges of the walls; that gathered in the corners. He was glad she had come along.

He scrolled down the page at a steady rate, reading quickly the various messages.....no, ‘posts’ – that’s what the users of this site called their little writings. ‘It’s not this, is it? This part about Maleficent. Some sort of ape, is it? And a bad’un as far as I can see.’

He read aloud.....

‘Maleficent found his way into the city in the usual manner. He was old and thusly tired after a fruitless day. He watched the evening's activity in the square with vast but measured interest and retired to his corner in the battlements.’

‘He thought long and hard. Maleficent was older than anything he had encountered. Still searching for that Good Deed. Ahhh...this exile wearied him. He had lost count of the summers. For what purpose was this endless ageing?’

‘His old yet flexible mind moved smoothly up a gear and he achieved the familiar click of foresight. In the mists of events he sieved for answers. The city was shrouded in a fog that made any real prescience impossible yet shapes moved in the darkness. He closed his eyes. As the gloom of deep thinking opened ahead of his probing thoughts he saw clearly the bright shapes of the wolves. Why so many of the Old Race?’

‘His thought surged ahead again and he felt vitality seeping from his body as his mind drew into itself. The city was attracting what it needed. Events were in flux... He found the febrile cunning of the mouse Fedwie and wondered at such a place for the Hidden Kind. He realised that for such companions to be in confluence, the purpose must be terrible. He threw his mind out further, beyond the city walls, finding the crow, at wing, purpose unknown. The gorilla drawn to the city by forces it could not understand. What role for the Great Ape?’

‘Maleficent shuddered and came back to himself. The floor of his castle cranny was cold and hard. He drew some straw under himself but it was damp and he shivered again.'

‘Oh, this doesn’t sound good at all!’ Jack went on.

‘The night would be a long one. He knew many things but he did not know the dark hand that was encircling the city. He did not know the part he had in this play. Yet he could watch and assimilate. Maleficent was good at watching. He knew the wolves would not come unless there were great need.’

Jack scrolled to the bottom of the page. There had been the kidnapping of some human child. and something about wolves coming into the city.....and wargs..... The story, the writing had petered out. How like men to become sidetracked and leave something half-done. That Tolkien fellow, excepted, of course. But then, he’d been touched by faerie.....or so it seemed to Jack.

‘Is it the dark hand that worries you, Aiwendil? Do you feel it “encircling” the city?’ Jack cast his mind back over their short journey to the library. ‘Gilli!’ he said, turning round to look at the fiddler. ‘Remember that group of trick-or-treaters we passed by just as we left the alley? The one you thought looked like a troupe of circus animals. You said their costumes and their make-up was so well done; they looked so real, you said.’ He chewed at the edge of one ragged fingernail as he thought. ‘Perhaps we should have got a better look at them. Maybe they weren’t in disguise at all.’

He cast an eye on the young woman who'd come with Aiwendil. 'Darlarliel, isn't it?' he said, raising a questioning brow toward her. 'Did you happen to notice any.....persons in strange costume when you and Aiwendil walked here?' He laughed despite the serious atmosphere surrounding their little group. 'That is, more strange than usual on this night of ghosties and beasties and things that go bump in the dark?'

[Dimturiel]

Darlariel thought hard. Of course, she had seen many figures dressed strangely and wearing masks that would give many nightmares. Yet that was not unusual on that night. She could not say for certain that she had noticed something out of the ordinary. Well, unless you counted...

Darlariel closed her eyes in concentration. That evening, as she was ready to go out, she had caught sight of a strange group on the street. They were wearing masks that were very hideous, but also very realistic. So realistic that she had felt frightened. She remembered that they had been laughing roughly and singing a harsh song, that seemed to be about death and destruction. And she also recalled the terror that had overwhelmed her when hearing those songs. She told Jack all this.

"I thought then that something was not quite right with them." she finished. "Although...although I could not clearly point out what. It was mostly a...well, a feeling. You do not think that they...they were not..." She hesitated. The thought brought a bitter taste in her mouth. "Do you think they were not human?" she finished.

Darlariel was not sure she really wanted to hear Jack's answer. She knew there would be no going back after that, no way of returning to her former innocence. Yet there was nothing that she could do now. She had got herself into this, she had no choice but to go along until the end, whatever that was going to be.

[piosenniel]

Gilli’s skin prickled as Darlariel recounted the group she’d seen. She could almost hear the dark melody they’d been singing. Her eyes darted nervously upward and about the balustrade, wondering if it were just her imagination or were there low echoes of their harsh laughter just disappearing even now into darkness. Gilli shook herself and twitched her shoulders as if to throw off such dark thoughts.

Her mood lightened as she recalled the trick-or-treaters she’d seen when she and Jack had left the alley. ‘The Little Folk are out again this year,’ she said, turning away from the shadows and toward her three companions. ‘You saw them. Remember, Jack? They wore no masks; their features and clothes were guise enough. And unlike the little ones who were being characters from the Rings movies, the Little Folk went bare footed as always.’

She wrinkled her forehead, thinking about that small group Jack had mentioned. ‘I do remember those trick-or-treaters.....the ones with the animal costumes on. Not really costumes, though. And not really circus-y now that I think about them. Their clothes were just ordinary....jeans, shirts, & boots on their feet, I think. It was their masks that were so extraordinary. Wolf, fox, crow, hawk, among others. And I think I saw a bear among them. And him walking next to a deer.’

She plucked at the strings of her fiddle, wondering if she should say what else she thought she saw. ‘You know, I didn’t really get a bad hit off them. They seemed really to belong there.’ She rubbed at the back of her neck. ‘There was one thing. When they had nearly passed out of sight, one of them, the fox-masked one I think, turned back for a quick glance our way. Beneath the mask, or through it, really, I thought I saw a smiling face. And in it deep, brown, old eyes. He nodded once, then turned away, a fox once again.’ Gilli shrugged.

‘Weird, eh?’

[Celuien]

The evening had flown in streams of children knocking at Becca's door. All had been given candy in handfuls. Chocolates and caramels and butterscotch. And then there were a few who were given an extra gift of one of the glistening white cupcakes. A little girl with a gentle smile and a soft light in her blue eyes. A dark haired boy with a big grin and merry laugh. A sad faced child dressed as Cinderella. And many others.

Only three cupcakes remained, including the most important of the set, though Becca didn't know which held the prize.

"I didn't make them, you know," she whispered to Midnight. "He did, on my last trip. And he put the star into the batter. I don't know which has the star. But he said I could choose who will have it next. And I don't think I chose anyone who has been here so far."

Midnight's tail swished.

"It would be easier if I knew the children, the way they did it in the old days at the feast. But I don't know most of them. I don't know if they'd understand. Faerie is special. Everyone who gets a cupcake tonight will know that, at least for a while. But the one who gets the star has to truly understand."

There was another knock at the door. Becca recognized her visitor and grinned.

"Why, hello again, Aragorn."

Somehow I think he'd understand. I wonder.