Samhain's confusion

A raging fire burned in front of me, it's heat radiating in all directions, warming all who gathered around it, even in the cool autumn air. The flames danced merrily, glowing red, orange, yellow and blue against the deep Prussian blue of the evening sky.

"So why do we do this again ?" I asked, confused as to why two walnuts were thrust into my hands.

"Because it's a family tradition. And now you're finally old enough to partake in it." My mother answered simply, shrugging her shoulders.

Half of her face was covered in shadows while the other was bathed in the soft firelight and with her long, dark dark framing her face, it gave her almost mystical air.

"Yeah I figured, Mom, but why do we have this tradition?" I pressed.

I did not like the fact this particular tradition had an age requirement. This did not bode well for me.

"Well, our ancestors had the belief that if we toss two walnuts into the fire after telling it the name of you and the one you desire, if it pops, you weren't meant to be. But if it roasts then you will be well matched." She explained.

Ah ha! A clue Sherlock, no wonder my mom seemed so happy to give me those nuts, she was planning on pulling the old 'it's a tradition' card on me.

"What ? That's not where it came from." My aunt burst out.

The fact she had been eavesdropping on our conversation was easily forgotten when my mom really began to argue. And I was so grateful for my aunt saving, however unintentionally, that I just stepped back and let her take my place. Thankfully it went ignored by both parties.

"What do you mean 'that's not where it came from' Mother told me so herself." My mom shot back.

Oh boy, this was going to take some time. I pocketed the walnuts for safe keeping in my jacket and waited with baited breath for this to get entertaining.

"No, Mother told me that our great-great-great-grandmother accidentally cast a spell on some walnuts, when she was trying to predict whether she and her betrothed would be happy together. When it worked her spell was passed down."

By now the rest of the family was listening intently to the argument.

"What are you two talking about ? That's not how we got that tradition." My uncle harrumphed.

"Yeah, it's because Louis the first, was given walnuts by his true love and he wanted to pay tribute to them by making this ritual." Another relative butt in.

"Louis the first? Are you insane? It was Francis the third."

Why did we even have three Francis' in the family ?

The bonfire continued burning peacefully, the only peaceful thing in the vicinity at the moment.This is what I get for being a member of a very long line of witchcraft users. I thought bitterly as more aunts, uncles, cousins and what not joined in the argument.

"I always thought we started that ritual six generations ago." Another theory went around.

"Someone go and get the family grimoire, that ought to solve this." An uncle shouted.

"Idiot, why would we need the grimoire ? We obviously need the family tree." An aunt berated him.

I snickered under my breath as several more theories were discussed among the relatives, discussed being a loose term. Most of them were just shouting their own versions of how this odd ritual came to be.

The slamming of the giant old, oak doors silenced the crowd. And we could all feel a shift in the air. The silence was so great that one could hear the crackling of the bonfire, the wind whistling through the trees and even the creatures deep in the forests.

Ah shit.

"Grandmother, how wonderful of you to join the party." I drawled, leaning against the long, knotted wood table that had been hauled outside for the festivities.

My grandmother just rolled her eyes at my insolence, and continued on her path towards the bonfire. She was a tall, slim woman with a stern expression permanently etched on her thin face. Her once jet black locks, now tumbled down her back in silvery waves. She radiated the power she holds as the matriarch of the family and of her own great reserves. The heavy dress she wore, which always reminds me of the robes of story book witches, dragged behind her. Her familiar, a pure black tabby cat with piercing green eyes strutted alongside her proudly. Honestly I'm surprised the woman doesn't own a crooked witch's hat. She already has the wardrobe, cat and demeanour down, just add a flying broomstick and hat and we can complete the stereotypical witches aesthetic. No matter what, she cuts a formidable impression into the minds of all who ever met her.She stopped right in front of the flames and I thought I saw a flicker of enjoyment in her features, probably not. Grandmother was infamous for having absolutely no emotions. She didn't enjoy things, she didn't cry, the most emotion anyone can get out of her is usually annoyance and contempt. Or absolute disgust, according to legend, back at a family wedding in '89.

Grandmother took in a deep breath and turned around slowly, probably milking the suspense, to face the family.

"What is going on here? This is supposed to be a celebration, not a debate." Her tone was soft, but her eyes were steely.

Normally Grandmother was a laid-back woman. Judgemental? Yes but she would usually mind her own business. The only thing that can get a rise out of her is not fulfilling our duties as a coven during the celebrations we all join together. My uncle stepped forward to explain, only to be stopped by Grandmother holding her hand up.

"I have no need for excuses. All I ask of my family is to join together to celebrate our ties to this Earth and to properly fulfill your duties as witches and warlocks to the gods that have given you these gifts." She lectured.

Her speech was one I've heard ad nauseam for the past twenty years of my life. Sometimes it's one on one , other times it's a family event.

"Now what caused such a hullabaloo that you all forgot about the sacred traditions of Samhain?" She continued, glaring at each of us, her hands raised above her head.

Drama queen.

"Oh it's no big deal, Grandmother, I was just curious to where we got that old walnut-in-fire-finding-love tradition from." I called out while still leaning on the table, a wide smirk playing on my lips.

From the corner of my eye, I could see my mom close her eyes and tilt her head upwards. Anytime Grandmother and I are in close proximity to each other, she tends to do that, I'm assuming she's praying. Whether it's for us not to kill each other or for the rest of the family to remain safe, still remains to be discovered.

"It doesn't matter where the tradition came from, child, all that matters is we follow tradition." She urged.

Then she clapped her hands before I could get in a word.

Smart move Grandmother.

Once she moved away from the fire, the strange tension that had come over the large group dissipated.

Everyone continued on with their usual activities. I saw some of the younger family members running among the floating lights that had been lit and suspended in air through the use of the magic.

Beams of moonlight pierced through the haze of grey smoke that emanated from the fire. The sky was now pitch black, except for the smattering of stars visible. The younger family members had been taken inside once the novelty of staying up past their bedtimes wore off and the exhaustion set in, leaving only the members fourteen and older still milling about through the vast expanse of the estate. The temperature had dropped steadily during the night, so much so, that only standing near the fire would give you a sense of true warmth. It was here I found Grandmother standing alone, not even her cat in sight, with her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

"You are getting more and more mischievous as the years pass. When will you learn that your powers are far more powerful than to be used for these mindless little tricks? '' She muttered under her breath.

Her words brought a grin to my face.

"Aw you knew. I spent hours making sure no one would realize. I mean you have to admit it, Grandmother, it's not easy erasing everyone's memory of Harold the third enchanting walnuts to throw into the Samhain fire, just so he wouldn't have to marry the mayor's daughter."

Grandmother rolled her eyes and I saw her thin lips twitch upwards, only for a second.

"Your gifts weren't meant for these purposes." She stated again,

"Well, you never tell me anyway, so until I actually have a clue, enjoy the entertainment Grams." I called over my shoulder, making my way through .

"Make sure you restore their memories come morning!"

The sound of cackling echoed through the night.