Bhí an choill draíochta lán le scéalaí an Oíche Shamhna sin.

The magical forest was full of storytellers that Halloween night.

Bhí Saoirse, Cillian, agus Aoife ag baint taitnimh as an atmaisféar na féile.

Saoirse, Cillian, and Aoife were enjoying the festive atmosphere.

Bhí an lá fada tagtha, agus tháinig an oíche ar tí titim le ceol binn agus tine mhór ag díoscán.

The long day had come, and night was about to fall with sweet music and a large crackling fire.

Bhí Saoirse ag éisteacht le scéalta faoi na sí, na púcaí, agus an figiúr mistéireach a bhí le feiceáil i lár na foraoise.

Saoirse was listening to stories about the fairies, the goblins, and the mysterious figure seen in the middle of the forest.

Dúirt gach duine go raibh sé díreach ina sheanscéal, ach bhí Saoirse difriúil.

Everyone said it was just an old tale, but Saoirse was different.

Bhí suim mhór aici i mbéaloideas, ach bhí eagla faoi chúig oíche na scéalta a thagann fíor freisin.

She was very interested in folklore but also afraid of the truth within the stories that come true.

"Cillian agus Aoife," a dúirt Saoirse, "an bhfuil sibh ag creidiúint i ndáiríre nach bhféadfadh aon rud a bheith fíor faoin finscéal seo?

"Cillian and Aoife," said Saoirse, "do you really believe there's nothing true about this legend?"

" Rinne siad gáire as a mhacnas.

They laughed at her curiosity.

"Níl ann ach scéalta na seanchaí, Saoirse," arsa Cillian le miongháire.

"They're just the stories of the old storytellers, Saoirse," said Cillian with a grin.

Ach bhí Saoirse cinneadh a dhéanamh.

But Saoirse decided something.

Bhí rún daingean aici féiniúlacht an fhigiúra a aimsiú.

She was determined to discover the identity of the figure.

Cé go raibh eagla uirthi, thug a fiosracht misneach di.

Although she was scared, her curiosity gave her courage.

Nuair a chuaigh Aoife agus Cillian in éineacht leis an slua ag an tine chnó, chuir Saoirse isteach sa choill fhada í.

When Aoife and Cillian joined the crowd by the bonfire, Saoirse headed into the long forest.

Bhí an mhí lúnasa timpeall uirthi, agus thit duilleoga dearga agus óir miotail ó na crainn.

The air was filled with the late summer warmth, and red and golden metallic leaves fell from the trees.

Chuir solas na gealaí bán ar na cosáin.

The path was illuminated by the pale moonlight.

Bhí Saoirse ag siúl go cúramach, ag éisteacht le gach torann beag a ghluaiseann timpeall uirthi.

Saoirse walked carefully, listening to every little sound that moved around her.

Ar an ngeata na coille, leag a súile ar rud aisteach sa scáth.

At the gate of the forest, her eyes fell on something strange in the shadows.

Ní raibh sí cinnte, ach cheap sí gur fhaca sí figiúr dorcha.

She wasn't sure, but she thought she saw a dark figure.

Thosaigh a croí ag preabadh bhí eagla uirthi, ach níor stad sí.

Her heart began to pound, she was afraid, but she didn't stop.

Shiúil sí go mall, amhail is dá mba rud é go raibh sí ag siúl amhgarach go dtí an figiúr.

She walked slowly, as if she were cautiously approaching the figure.

Ní raibh aici ach cúpla slat nuair a scaip an figiúr isteach san oíche.

She was only a few yards away when the figure dissipated into the night.

Thit fear an éis óna hearth.

A man of the evening fell from her path.

Shiúil Saoirse suas go dtí an áit ina raibh an figiúr.

Saoirse walked up to where the figure had been.

Bhí rud bog ar an talamh: talisman snoite go hálainn.

There was something soft on the ground: a beautifully carved talisman.

D'fhill Saoirse ar an tine chnó, ag coinneáil an talisman ina lámh.

Saoirse returned to the bonfire, holding the talisman in her hand.

Ba dheimhin le Cillian agus Aoife go raibh rud éigin ann níos mó ná mar a cheap siad, cé go raibh saoirse ach suaimhneas níos doimhne faoina chreideamh féin.

It was clear to Cillian and Aoife that there was something more to this than they thought, though Saoirse only felt a deeper peace in her own belief.

Ba dheireadh é ag tús nua Saoirse, agus bhí sí cinnte anois go bhféadfadh scéal a bheith níos mó ná mar a bhí súil aige.

It was an end and a new beginning for Saoirse, and she was now sure that a story could be more than what one might expect.

B'fhéidir, a cheap sí, nach raibh homhónna draíochta ach mar an eagla féin.

Perhaps, she thought, magical myths were just as much about the fear itself.

D'fhoghlaim Saoirse rud amháin a chuir sí roimhe féin: níl aon eagla ann i gcoinne na féachta atá níos mó ná áilleacht na fírinne a fháil.

Saoirse learned one thing she resolved to hold onto: there is no fear against the quest that is greater than the beauty of discovering the truth.