Tradition Old, Tradition New
For nearly a century, Sasha had maintained a regimen of closeting herself on Samhain night, striving to glimpse the coming days at that moment when the veil is thinnest. She had filled volumes with cryptic prophecy, and spent near-endless hours puzzling through them afterward. It was a Tradition, and traditions were Very Important.
This year, however, that tradition would be broken. There would be no rituals, no scrying, no peek at the book of destiny--yet still, she had an idea of what was coming. She had, after all, gone into labor in the wee hours of Halloween night. Amaris, the daughter whose future self she had met nearly two years before, was punctual to say the least.
The hours seemed to crawl by, but in the predawn dark of November 1st, with help and support from her loved ones, Sasha brought her daughter into the world, a beautiful baby girl who promptly captured her mother's doting heart. "At last," she was heard to murmur, cradling tiny Amaris in her arms, "I may be nearly sane again. Happy birthday, Amaris."
This year, however, that tradition would be broken. There would be no rituals, no scrying, no peek at the book of destiny--yet still, she had an idea of what was coming. She had, after all, gone into labor in the wee hours of Halloween night. Amaris, the daughter whose future self she had met nearly two years before, was punctual to say the least.
The hours seemed to crawl by, but in the predawn dark of November 1st, with help and support from her loved ones, Sasha brought her daughter into the world, a beautiful baby girl who promptly captured her mother's doting heart. "At last," she was heard to murmur, cradling tiny Amaris in her arms, "I may be nearly sane again. Happy birthday, Amaris."