Thosaigh an scéal ar oíche chiúin samhraidh ar Inis Mór.

The story began on a quiet summer night on Inis Mór.

Bhí an ghaoth mhór ag séideadh thar na failleacha cloiche.

The strong wind was blowing over the stone cliffs.

Bhí Aoife ina suí ar bhruach na haille, ag faire ar na tonnta ag bualadh in aghaidh na carraigeacha.

Aoife was sitting on the edge of the cliff, watching the waves crash against the rocks.

Bhí sí sásta sa nádúr seo, áit ar mhothaigh sí baile.

She was happy in this nature, a place where she felt at home.

Bhí Cillian díreach tar éis teacht chuig an oileán.

Cillian had just arrived on the island.

Tháinig sé chun éalú ón gcathair ach níorbh fhada go raibh fadhb aige.

He came to escape the city, but soon found himself with a problem.

Bhí an chraiceann air a bhí lán de charbán rúndiamhair agus bhí sé chomh dearg le tine.

His skin was covered in a mysterious rash and it was as red as fire.

"Cad a tharlaíonn duit, a Cillian?

"What happened to you, Cillian?"

" arsa Aoife, ag caitheamh súil bhuartha ar a airm agus a aghaidhe.

said Aoife, casting a worried glance at his arms and face.

"Is cuma liom!

"I don't care!

Tá cúpla ointment agam ón gcógaslann," arsa Cillian, ag croitheadh a ghualainn.

I have some ointment from the pharmacy," said Cillian, shrugging his shoulders.

Níor chreid sé i bhfoclaíocht na seanórach faoi na luibheanna agus na nósanna áitiúla.

He didn't believe in the locals' storytelling about herbs and local traditions.

Ach bhí Aoife diongbháilte.

But Aoife was determined.

Bhí a fhios aici go raibh níos mó sa chur i bhfianaise na sean-scéalta.

She knew there was more truth in the old stories.

Thosaigh sí ag fiosrú faoin oileán.

She started investigating the island.

Chuaigh sí go dtí na háiteanna cúlráideacha ina mbeadh a leithéid d'plandaí iontacha ag fás.

She went to the secluded places where such amazing plants might grow.

Léigh sí faoi phlanda a bhí anaithnid, planda a spreag urnaí agus traidisiún.

She read about a plant that was unknown, a plant that inspired prayers and tradition.

Lá amháin, mar gheall ar an ngaoith láidir, d'athraigh an carbán ar Cillian.

One day, due to the strong wind, Cillian's rash worsened.

Bhí pian aige agus ba ghaol le dochar é.

He was in pain and it was becoming a concern.

Tháinig an t-am do bheirt acu, Aoife agus Cillian, an rud a bhí uathu a fháil amach.

The time came for both of them, Aoife and Cillian, to find out what they needed.

Chuir fearg Cillian rud éigin eile in ann, ceann nua do thairseach eolais Aoife.

Cillian's frustration opened a door to new knowledge for Aoife.

Rith siad go dtí na huaimheanna farraige agus rith an cuid de na scéalta áitiúla trí mheon Aoife.

They ran to the sea caves and some of the local stories ran through Aoife's mind.

I bhfad faoi dhromchla na heagála, fuair siad an planda fiáin, rudóg a bhí ag ardú as an gcáil a bhí bainteach leis an gcarbán.

Deep beneath the surface of fear, they found the wild plant, growing from the reputation associated with the rash.

Choinnigh Aoife a lámh ar an bplanda agus rinne sí ointment dó.

Aoife kept her hand on the plant and made an ointment from it.

Tá súil aici leis an gcóireáil ar Cillian.

She hoped for Cillian's healing.

Níorbh fhada gur tháinig faoisimh ar a chraiceann.

It wasn't long before his skin found relief.

Bhreathnaigh sé faoi dhó ar Aoife, an dóchas ag druidim ina shúile.

He looked at Aoife twice, hope gathering in his eyes.

"Tá tú ceart.

"You were right.

Bhí tú ceart an t-am ar fad," a dúirt Cillian, ag féachaint amach ar an aigéan gan teorainn.

You were right all along," said Cillian, looking out at the boundless ocean.

D'athraigh sé agus d'imigh as an amhras sé a bhí aige ar an traidisiúin.

He changed and let go of the doubt he had about the tradition.

Bhí meangadh gáire ar Aoife anois.

Aoife now had a smile.

Bhí a ceangal leis an oileán níos láidre ná riamh, agus shábháil sí ní hamháin sláinte an fhir ach freisin muinín nua sa traidisiún ársa.

Her bond with the island was stronger than ever, and she had saved not only the man's health but also a newfound faith in the ancient tradition.

Sin é mar a choinnigh siad, lá le lá, ar imeall an domhain.

That's how they kept going, day by day, on the edge of the world.