Beltane

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The rituals were the only reason Anna participated in the traditions of Beltane. Young men and women who believed in the powers of the Earth and Nature had come to deepen their desires. Some came to awaken new ones, while others hoped this was the night that the Goddess granted them new life. Young women danced in celebration of finally coming of age, and the young men chased after them in hopes of sewing seeds.

However, Anna never really wanted to partake in the lust filled rituals of the young. She had done that when she had become a woman, only taking a sip of the sweet wine of youth had to offer. Nothing had ever come from it, but there were expectations to fulfill.

She watched as the young girls danced around the fire with their white dresses glowing in the light. They were flowering into young women now, raised with the purpose of passing down their knowledge to the next generation. Though that was later in their life, they relished in the rituals that the sacred sabbats had to offer.

The crown of white flowers had been placed upon her head the moment she arrived long before the sun set. The amethist endowed circlet she wore beneath the floral crown represented the wisdom that had been passed down from mother to daughter. The red jasper amulet that hung around her neck was the wisdom of her father that he had left in his many books. The black onyx ring she wore on her right hand was her mother's, to offer protection that only she could give. All these things had been to many rituals with her. Unlike the rest of the people there who wore white or red, she chose to wear a pale blue cotton dress that pooled at her feet.

The miles of forest that surrounded the mass of people gathered offered protection from those that sought to harm them. Beltane was sacred to witches and all beings who wished the protection of the earthly realm. Though, without a sacred king, the rule went to the Savants.

Like her.

"Still refuse to dance, Anna?" A young man she had known for years came up to her with a horn full of mead. "You can't just stand there watching." She admired his boyish charm, with his high cheekbones and sandy hair. This was his second year participating in Beltane.

"My dancing days were years ago, Sam Freyell." Anna laughed as he faltered. "Your antics have not escaped my notice." She smiled at him when he blushed. Anna was well aware of the youth's failed advances towards some of the young women his age. "You should go dance with Thea since she has been eyeing you all night."

"Has she?" Anna rolled her eyes at the teenager who should be paying more attention.

"Yes!" She laughed. "Go dance with her, and be careful with her." Anna could only watch as the boy handed his mead off to one of his friends before running to grab the young girl she had saved months ago.

She had opened the rituals with her blessing as custom for her station. She had many more rituals to turn for the rest of the year, but Beltane was easily one of the most important.

She smiled as a couple approached her holding hands. Both looked happy but desperate. She knew them well, as the woman came to her frequently for help conceiving. This was their first Beltane, and they hoped the timing was right. They were coming to her for a blessing, which she most certainly would give. However, she could not control the internal workings of the body, only heal them.

As heartfelt as Anna was for them, she knew that it was a slim chance of conception for the couple. She hoped her blessing made a little difference in comforting them through the struggle they faced.

"Will you bless us, Savant?" The woman asked with the brightest hope in her dark eyes. Anna could never extinguish someone's light, and she nodded with a smile. The husband smiled in hope while he held his wife's hand tightly. Anna placed her hand on the woman's abdomen where her womb stayed dormant. With a little concentration, Anna could see there was something there preventing a child from taking root. Something that she could heal. There was a cost to most things, but the price was not as steep as healing a mortal wound.

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