Bhí an ghaoth ag séideadh go bog thar Cnoc na Teamhrach, na duilleoga órga ag sop mar rugadh laethanta an Fhómhair orthu.

The wind was gently blowing over Cnoc na Teamhrach, the golden leaves scattering as the days of autumn were birthed upon them.

Bhí Eamon i lár na réimsí, a shúile ag scoitheadh mar a bhféad an Samhain seo ní amháin scéalta na seanaimsire a chloisteáil, ach iad a fheiceáil.

Eamon was in the middle of the fields, his eyes squinting as if this Halloween he could not only hear the stories of old but see them.

Thosaigh an tráthnóna, agus bhí Ciara agus Finn in éineacht leis, ag éisteacht le scéalta ársa na nGael.

The evening began, and Ciara and Finn were with him, listening to the ancient tales of the Gaels.

Bhí Eamon ina sheasamh ar thaobh an chnoic, ag amharc amach thar an talamh.

Eamon stood on the hillside, looking out over the land.

Bhí imní air gan chúis, imní faoin gcaillteanas a d'fhéadfadh teacht.

He felt an irrational unease, a worry about a loss that might come.

Anois, ar thús an turais mhisteach seo, bhí eagla eile ag ruathar air: caillteanas céadfaí féin.

Now, at the start of this mystical journey, another fear struck him: the loss of his very senses.

Ag am go tobann, chaill Eamon an radharc.

Suddenly, Eamon lost his sight.

Thit dorchadas air gan rabhadh.

Darkness fell upon him without warning.

Baineadh geit as Ciara agus Finn nuair a chuala siad scairteanna aigne.

Ciara and Finn were startled when they heard mental screams.

Bhí an chroí ag búireach ina bhrollach, ach cheap sé go raibh sé uaigneach.

His heart roared in his chest, but he thought he was alone.

Lig sé a lámha siar chun é féin a aimsiú sa dorchadas.

He let his hands reach backward to find himself in the darkness.

"Ciara, Finn," ghlaoigh sé le mífhoighneacht.

"Ciara, Finn," he called out impatiently.

"Ní fheicim.

"I can't see.

Táim dall.

I'm blind."

"Tháinig ciúnas orthu.

Silence descended on them.

Tugadh tacaíocht do Eamon, lámha mar threoir, súile Finn ag iniúchadh an bhealaigh, fuaimeanna na gaoithe mar thuar.

Eamon was supported, guided by hands, with Finn's eyes exploring the way, the sound of the wind as an omen.

"Lean orm, a Eamon," dúirt Ciara go socair.

"Follow me, Eamon," Ciara said calmly.

"Tá tú sábháilte.

"You're safe.

Tá tú linn.

We're with you."

"Thosaigh an triúr ag dul isteach in áit istigh náisiúnta, an t-anam a bhain leis an talamh.

The trio began to enter a national inner place, the soul connected to the land.

Leis na lámha in éineacht, sroicheadar go domhain sa gcluasán ársa, agus faoi lámha Eamon, bualadh píosa cloiche fuar, ach le mothú líonta den stair.

With their hands together, they reached deep into the ancient shrine, and under Eamon's hands, they touched a cold stone, but filled with a sense of history.

Bhí corraí i gcroí Eamon agus lean sé leis, éistéal lán le torann an dúlra, rith cad é a d'aimsigh sé roimhe.

There was a stirring in Eamon's heart, and he continued, listening full of the sounds of nature, recalling what he had discovered before.

Chuala sé na scéalta ársa ag glaoch air trí na hanamacha míre céanna.

He heard the ancient stories calling to him through the same timeless spirits.

Phléasc suáilcí ar a aghaidh agus d'éirigh an aimsir sa chisteoir ceathairéad seo.

Joy burst across his face, and the atmosphere lifted in this quatrain refuge.

Ó chúl na scamaill thug an ghrian a solas éadrom deireanach ar chnoc, an Samhain ag éirí trasna na spéire.

From behind the clouds, the sun gave its last gentle light on the hill, Halloween rising across the sky.

Bhí an saol ag crith le spioradáltacht, agus bhí Eamon sásta leis an rud a bhain amach, a bhrú trína chuid eagla agus a lorg finné na seansaol.

Life trembled with spirituality, and Eamon was content with what he had achieved, pushing through his fears and seeking the witness of the old world.

Go mall, tháinig a radharc ar ais agus é ag iarraidh a breathnú ar na daoine a raibh an oiread éadair ar a thaobh.

Slowly, his vision returned as he sought to gaze upon the people who were so close beside him.

Bhí gean agus ionannas le feiceáil ann.

Affection and equality were visible in him.

Thaitin gloine éadrom na cruinne air agus bhí fhios aige go raibh a chuid aingeal ag freastal air.

The light sheen of the universe fell upon him, and he knew his angels were attending him.

Ina dhiaidh sin, scaip sé an scéal ar an domhan, ag tabhairt a fhionnachtana agus taitneamh na staire gaya ar shaol, mothú snoite i ngach focal.

Afterward, he spread the story to the world, sharing his discoveries and the delight of history openly on life, a feeling etched in every word.

Mar léirigh sé, d'fhoghlaim Eamon gurb é an nasc a bhí aige leis an stair go raibh ní amháin cuimsithe ag súile, ach freisin fiosraí coitianta a bhí leis na daoine eile timpeall air.

As he shared, Eamon learned that the connection he had with history was not only understood by his eyes but also shared with the people around him.

D’fhás sé níos glactha leis an leochaileacht, ag tuiscint gur rud lománach agus pobail a bhí ina shaibhreas — stair chultúrtha an náisiúin, tugtha le chéile ag an mbua sin a rinne sé, le hanam á gcaitheamh go mór sa timthriall na sochraid agus an mheisciúla ceiliúrtha.

He grew more accepting of vulnerability, understanding it as a communal and collective wealth — the cultural history of the nation, brought together by the victory he achieved, with spirits greatly thrown into the cycle of the sacred and the intoxicating celebration.