Archie comes of age against the Daoine sìth 👻

The wind howled like a banshee right over Loch Ness, whipping the icy rain against the crumbling stone walls of Cameron House. Inside a 10-year-old Archie shivered, but not from the cold. Oh no Archie was shivering from the chilling tales that his grandfather Edward was recounting.

"They say on Halloween night," rasped Edward, his voice heavy with the weight of generations past, "the veil between the worlds drops."

"What, ehm what do you mean grandpa?" squeaked Archie.

"Well the Daoine sìth, you know the fairy folk from the mounds, they come to the village and roam freely. But beware Archie, for these things are not the gentle creatures of bedtime stories."

Archie with eyes as wide as fluffing saucers huddled closer to the crackling peat fire.

Outside the castle walls the storm raged, whipping up the water into a frenzy on the loch. The local village of Easter Bonit was taking an absolute battering.

Angus had always loved Halloween. The thrill of dressing up and the sweet successes of trick or treating had always been fluffing awesome to him. But tonight was different, his excitement was overshadowed by a creeping sense of foreboding.

Dusk was rapidly descending and with it. long eerie shadows were being cast across the castle's ancient walls.

Archie reluctantly donned his costume and went downstairs to the main hall where the reception committee was waiting.

Nanay Ate had always dressed Archie up as a fearsome Scottish warrior complete with a cardboard sword and a helmet made from an old cooking pot, and this year was no different.

Uncle Po with a twinkle in his eye handed Edward a small, intricately carved wooden box.

"This, lad," Edward said, "is your protection now you are 10 and have come of age. Keep it close to you at all times and no harm shall befall you." and handed over the box to Archie.

Archie took the box and tried to stand up tall imitating the future laird he would become!

Nanny Ate, Uncle Po and Grandpa Edward all waved Archie out of the castle.

With a mixture of trepidation and excitement, Angus ventured out into the stormy night. The wind tore at his costume while the rain lashed his face. He swore he heard Nessie bellowing encouragement from across the loch. Archie pressed on with his heart pounding in his chest.

Down the road to the local village, Easter Bonit, he walked. When he got there, the village which was normally bustling with life, was eerily deserted.

Doors were bolted and windows were dark.

There was an unsettling silence hanging in the air, pierced only by the howling banshee that was the wind and the occasional swishing of leaves across the cobblestone streets.

As Archie approached the first house, a flicker of movement in the shadows jumped to his eye. A figure, tall and slender, with eyes that glowed an unnatural green, emerged from the darkness. Its voice ... a chilling whisper ... sent shivers down Archie's spine.

"Trick or treat, little one," it hissed ... its stinking breath cold against Archie's cheek.

Fear was threatening to consume Archie.

Then Archie suddenly remembered the words of his grandpa and clutched the wooden box tightly.

He held it out to the figure, his little voice trembling.

"Treat," he managed to stammer, more of a squeak than a word.

The figure recoiled, its eyes widening in surprise. With a guttural cry, it vanished back into the shadows, leaving Archie trembling but unharmed.

Emboldened by his narrow escape, Archie continued his trick-or-treating journey. He encountered more of the scary figures, each one more terrifying than the last. But each time, the wooden box protected him, its power repelling the malevolent spirits. Archie was feeling invincible now, those wee shites from the Daoine sìth were no match for the future laird Archie!

As the night wore on, the storm intensified, and with it the Daoine sìth grew bolder. Archie, now exhausted and terrified, found himself cornered in the village square by a group of menacing figures.

Their eyes glowed with an eerie light, and their voices, a chorus of screeching whispers, filled the air.

Just as Archie felt all hope was fading fast, a figure emerged from the swirling mist. Tall and imposing, with a flowing white beard and eyes that sparkled like the stars, it radiated an aura of power and authority.

The menacing figures suddenly cowered before him, their whispers turning to pathetic whimpers. The newcomer raised his trident, and the wind subsided, the rain softened to a gentle drizzle.

"Begone," he boomed, his voice echoing through the square. "This night is for the innocent, and not for your rotten diablerie."

In a blink of an eye the figures vanished, leaving Archie alone with the mysterious stranger.

"Who are you?" Archie asked, his voice barely a whisper.

The stranger smiled. "I am the guardian of Loch Ness and all who live in this land," he said. "And you, young warrior, have shown great courage and come of age tonight."

With a final nod, the guardian vanished as well, leaving Archie alone in the now peaceful village square.

Dawn had broken and was casting a golden glow over the village.

Archie realised it was time to go home and made his way back to the castle.

Archie's heart was filled with a mix of adrenaline and exhilaration.

Archie had faced his fears, he had survived the night, and he had learned a valuable lesson about the power of courage and the magic that lies hidden within the heart of Scotland.

The End