13. Curtain

At first, the curtain looks like a thin, white line cutting across the sky for as far as the eye can see. It’s farther away than I assume, because it never seems to get any closer even after sailing for another hour or more. 

I start to look at the stars again, and I’m surprised to discover that they’ve shifted. They’re dancing around the sky, and all the constellations I know from a lifetime looking up from the Shire are gone. An elf notices my distraction and starts to explain why they move around so, but I’m only half-listening to him.

By the time I look back at the curtain, it’s grown wider, and slowly, it grows to cover the entire sky before us, so that every direction we look is pure white. At first, it does look like glass, but it ripples like the ocean across the night sky. I look closer and see now that it’s not crystal glass at all. It’s more like a cloud, if clouds could be woven together like a tapestry, and there are little white lights twinkling and shimmering inside it, giving it that crystal look. 

I hold my breath as we pass into the cloud, not knowing what to expect. It’s huge, larger than aught I’ve seen before, and I’m sure it’ll take ages to get through it. But no sooner do we touch the veil that we’re already through, passing it as if it weren’t even there. The ship touches water again, salt air fills our noses and there’s dawn approaching from behind. 

I look back at the curtain and am surprised further to see it already far away, and the stars, still sharp against the approaching dawn, look naught like I’ve ever seen, but Eärendil’s there, still keeping pace. 

GF 8/28/12

To be continued...