Bhí séasúr an fhómhair ann i nDún Chaoin agus bhí an ghaoth ag séideadh go láidir.

It was autumn in Dún Chaoin, and the wind was blowing strongly.

Bhí Cian agus Maeve ag tabhairt cuairt ar Aqvéaraim Dhún Chaoin, áit ina raibh uisceadán lán le rudaí iontacha ón fharraige thart orthu.

Cian and Maeve were visiting the Aqvéaraim Dhún Chaoin, a place with an aquarium full of wonderful things from the sea around them.

Bhí an Samhain ag druidim linn, féile na hÉireann a thugann deireadh leis an séasúr an fhómhair agus tús leis an ngeimhreadh.

Samhain was approaching, an Irish festival that marks the end of autumn and the beginning of winter.

Bhí Cian agus Maeve ag cuardach bronntanais speisialta sa siopa cuimhneacháin.

Cian and Maeve were searching for special gifts in the souvenir shop.

Bhí sé dúr, lán d’fheabhalscéalta, ó deilbhíní beaga d’iasc órghreanta go leabhair ar miotaseolaíocht na hÉireann.

It was quaint, full of delights, from small gold-engraved fish figurines to books on Irish mythology.

Bhí Cian ag iarraidh rud a fháil a chuirfeadh taithí an aqvéaraim in iúl, chomh maith leis an spiorad mistéireach a bhí ag baint leis an Samhain.

Cian wanted to find something that would express the aquarium experience, as well as the mysterious spirit associated with Samhain.

D’éirigh Cian beagáinín imníoch.

Cian grew a bit anxious.

Bhí a intinn ag dul anonn is anall, ag iarraidh teacht ar an bhrontannas ceart.

His mind was going back and forth, trying to find the right gift.

"Cad a cheapfainn a bheadh oiriúnach do chroí Mhaeve?" smaoinigh sé.

"What would I think would be suitable for Maeve's heart?" he pondered.

Bhí Maeve ag iniúchadh thart, a súile greamaithe toisc an scéal ag gach pièce, go háirithe na scéalta faoi chrannógaithe miotaseolaíochta.

Maeve was exploring around, her eyes fixed, captivated by the story in each piece, especially the tales of mythological crannog dwellers.

“Tá rud éigin tanbhríoch agus draíocht gach áit anseo,” a dúirt Maeve go socair.

“There’s something meaningful and magical everywhere here,” Maeve said calmly.

Bhí Cian ag breathnú ar ghreamanna leathair, ach bhí sé neamhchinnte.

Cian was looking at leather bookmarks, but he was unsure.

Thairis sin, chonaic sé maeve ag féachaint le súile grianála.

Beyond that, he saw Maeve looking with sunny eyes.

“Cad é atá ar do shon féin, a Mhaeve? Cabhróidh do thuiscint liom,” d’fhiafraigh Cian le meangadh gáire.

“What is for you, Maeve? Your insight will help me,” Cian asked with a grin.

Tharraing Maeve déilín cloiche a bhí cosúil le rón beag.

Maeve drew a stone seal that resembled a small seal.

“Féach, Cian,” a dúirt sí le gean.

“Look, Cian,” she said affectionately.

“Tá sé seo cosúil le selkies na dtraidisiúin.

“It’s like the selkies of traditions.

Tá a bhfuil ag athrú, díreach cosúil le Samhain.”

Everything is changing, just like Samhain.”

Déanann na selkies athrú ó rónta go daoine.

Selkies transform from seals to humans.

Bhí Cian faoi dhraíocht lena scéal.

Cian was enchanted by her story.

“Tá sin foirfe,” a dúirt sé.

“That’s perfect,” he said.

“Tosaíonn sé mar rún agus críochnaíonn sé mar dhraíocht.”

“It starts as a secret and ends as magic.”

Go spraíúil, d’aontaigh an bheirt acu ar an rón cloiche.

Playfully, they both agreed on the stone seal.

Bhí cruth an róin cosúil le scéal i scéal, ag athrú agus ag forbairt, mar a bhí a gcaidreamh agus a gcomhthuiscint.

The shape of the seal was like a story within a story, evolving and developing, much like their relationship and mutual understanding.

Láithreach bonn, cheannaigh siad é, ag iompar abhaile cuimhne mistéireach agus cruthaitheach.

Immediately, they bought it, carrying home a mysterious and creative memory.

Ba mhór an saibhreas an rún roinnte acu.

The shared secret was a great treasure for them.

Ar ais sa chomhluadar, d’fhoghlaim Cian go bhfuil uaireanta an comhroinnt is fearr ina bhealach féin ar an tolg a shroichead.

Back in their community, Cian learned that sometimes the best sharing is its own way to reach the couch.

Bhí sé ina rud nua, rud a d’oscail a shúile don chailín draíochtúil a bhí ina thiománaí féin ar rabharta na n-umar seo anois.

It was something new, something that opened his eyes to the magical girl who was now her own driver on the tide of these tanks.

Mar sin, chliceáil an doras siopa an uisceadáin agus d’fhág siad idir bualadh croí agus caoineadh huaithne trasna Dún Chaoin.

Thus, the aquarium shop door clicked, and they left between a heartbeat and a wistful sigh across Dún Chaoin.

Bhí na scéalta sa raibh acu, draíocht mar aoibh gháire, agus taitneamh síorár.

The stories they had were as magical as a smile and endlessly delightful.

Le linn an tsaoil, thagann fiosrúcháin mar seo ar chian.

Throughout life, such inquiries come to Cian.

Foghlaimíonn sé as tiomántán suan agus isteach in eolas na soineantaíocht.

He learns from a peaceful drive into the knowledge of innocence.

Agus go saoire Samhain—ní hiad amháin ab soinreacha.

And come Samhain holiday—they weren’t the only marvelers.