Samhain
or Sa·main, sa·mh'in
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It was time. She could feel it. The turning of the seasons was upon them. The true season of winter had not quite arrived yet. There would still be color in the world for several weeks. But that did not matter. The turning was there.
She rose and looked out at the world for the first time in months. She reached out and felt the world as the chill came to the air. She looked at the children nursing belly aches from an overabundance of sweets. She scoffed at their foolishness, but she could not really blame them. Children would be the same regardless of the year.
It was comforting, in a way. To know that no matter how humanity changed, children would always remain the same. They would always find joy in the simplest of things, like a few extra sweets once a year. A rare smile crossed her lips as she watched, if only briefly.
But that was past. All Hallows Eve was gone. The time for revelry was done. The time for pretending to be something more was over, even if the effects lingered. Now was the time for the real thing. Oh, the humans thought their little festival was the day when black magic was closest to them. Good. Let them think that. She knew better. All those like her did as well.
She wondered how many were still around. She had not seen any in far too long. The rites and rituals were still being done, she could feel it, so there had to be at least a few more. But the numbers did not matter. As long as she lived, the old ways would still hold sway.
She left the window and went to prepare the ritual. The magic would be done on this, the true turning of the seasons. When warmth and life give way to cold and death. That was when the magic would be best.
It was a simple matter to get all the needed items together. She had been preparing all year, since the turning to the warmer months. She set up the ritual with practiced ease and reached out to what few sisters remained. Fewer than last year, but more than they needed. It was as she expected.
She heard a few children run around, having eaten yet more of their colorful treats. Sometimes she wondered if any of them could be trusted with the rites. Maybe one of them had the gift, leftovers from a distant ancestor and just waiting to be woken. Perhaps once the ritual was done she would try and find one.
She shook her head. The magic was building. She needed to focus. This could only be done today, and she had to do it properly.
Outside, the world went on as normal. All Hallows Eve had ended and its festivities were over. But for her, in her home, they were just getting started. Halloween was done and gone until the next year. Now it was time for Samhain.
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It was only recently that I learned how to properly pronounce this word. I always said it as Sam Hane. I mean, that's what it looks like it should be pronounced, right? Guess ancient Celtic language doesn't really adhere to English rules, does it?
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