Read by Michael Flamel

IIn the heart of the Irish countryside, where the ancient stones stand silent sentinel over the land, there lay a forgotten castle known as Dunmore Keep. Once a grand fortress, it had fallen into ruin long ago, its crumbling walls and ivy-covered towers haunted by the ghosts of the past.

Many had ventured into the ruins of Dunmore Keep, drawn by tales of its tragic history and the spirits that dwelled within its crumbling walls. But few had returned to tell the tale, for the castle was said to be cursed, its halls echoing with the whispers of the dead.

One moonless night, as the fog rolled in from the hills and the air was thick with the scent of damp earth, a young scholar named Aisling stumbled upon the ruins of Dunmore Keep. Intrigued by the tales she had heard of its mysterious past, Aisling ventured bravely into the darkness, her heart pounding with excitement and fear.

As she crept through the crumbling halls and shadowy corridors, Aisling caught sight of a flickering light in the distance—a ghostly apparition with eyes as dark as the night and a voice like the whispering wind. It was the spirit of Lady Siobhan, the last of the castle’s noble inhabitants, doomed to wander the ruins for all eternity.

“Who dares to disturb my rest?” Lady Siobhan’s voice echoed through the halls, her words like ice in the wind. “Speak now, mortal, or suffer the consequences of your intrusion.”

But Aisling, undaunted by the ghostly apparition before her, summoned all her courage and stepped forward to meet her gaze. “I am Aisling, daughter of the hills and seeker of knowledge,” she declared, her voice steady despite the fear that gripped her heart. “I mean you no harm, Lady Siobhan, but I will not cower before you either.”

Lady Siobhan’s eyes narrowed at Aisling’s words, her ghostly form wavering in the darkness. “You are a bold one, mortal,” she whispered, her voice soft and cold as ice. “But beware—the ruins of Dunmore Keep are cursed, and those who dare to trespass within its walls do so at their own peril.”

With that, Lady Siobhan vanished into the shadows, leaving Aisling alone in the darkness, her heart heavy with the weight of her words. For days and nights, she wandered through the ruins, seeking answers to the questions that haunted her dreams.

But as she explored the crumbling halls and shadowy corridors, Aisling came to realize that the curse of Dunmore Keep was not a curse at all, but a warning—a reminder of the tragic fate that had befallen its inhabitants and the secrets that lay buried beneath its stones.

And though the ruins of Dunmore Keep remained a place of fear and superstition for many, Aisling knew that its true power lay not in curses or ghosts, but in the stories of the past and the lessons they had to teach. For in facing her fears and confronting the mysteries of the castle, she had unlocked a wisdom that would stay with her for the rest of her days. ❖