So it was Aisling. (Halloween edition)

Chapter 2

As the cargo jiggles forward, I fall backwards onto the chair. The air is filled with flickering gold glitter that weaves and dances before me. The glitter twirls into a spiral when I swat at it and disappears into a void when I blow a little wind from my mouth. The sun reflects through the mirror hung across from my economy seat and the yellow glow blinds my eyes as I lay there in my comfortable leather chair. My luggage is stacked above me in a compartment and litters of paper spread across the empty seat beside me.

I watch pale yellow to brick-red leaves desperately hang onto dead tree branches. Autumn is here and all memories from winter to summer filter through my mind like a stack of cards. How time flies. I am trying to reminisce about the old days like a grannie in her 60s but it's too bright. I huff in annoyance as the sun's glow rapidly flicks off and on on my sensitive eyes. I bunch up the scattered brochures and tuck them away in between the armrests of my seat all with a tight-lipped smile. 

After my little tantrum, I resettle into my seat, my weary bones locked back in place as the American countryside rushes by in a blur of autumn hues. My eyes are heavy like I've been under Sidhe's enchantment. The long flight has left me drained, wariness takes over my mind as I float adrift in a sea of strangers much like the children of Lir cast upon unfamiliar waters.

The rhythmic clacking of the train lulls me into a fitful state, somewhere between waking and dreaming. In my slight doze, I strain my neck to look across me at the older man who's been studying his phone like it's his life's worth. I scoff slightly to myself but keep quiet.The vibrant reds and golds outside the window remind me of the misty paths of Tir nan Og. As I step onto those ethereal paths, the mist swirls around my feet like living silk, cool and soft. The air itself seems to shimmer with an otherworldly light, casting everything in a dreamy, golden hue. Time loses all meaning here; a heartbeat could be a century, and a whisper could be an eternity.Under Sidhe's spell, my senses are heightened yet muddled. The sweet scent of impossible flowers fills my nostrils, their perfume intoxicating and ever-changing. Ghostly melodies float on the breeze, sometimes sounding like the gentle laughter of children, other times like the mournful keening of the bean sídhe. Goddamn children.My feet move of their own accord, guided by an unseen hand. The path beneath me shifts and changes, sometimes solid as the ancient stones of Newgrange, other times as insubstantial as moonlight on water. Trees with silver bark and leaves of gold line the way, their branches reaching out as if to caress my face or perhaps to ensnare me.

In the distance, I catch glimpses of fantastical beings - a white stag with antlers that touch the sky, a host of shimmering fairies dancing in a circle, perhaps even the Tuatha Dé Danann themselves, resplendent in their ageless beauty.Yet, for all its wonder, there's an undercurrent of danger. The enchantment clouds my mind, making it difficult to remember who I am or why I'm here.

My head bangs up against the window. It must have been hard because the man sitting across me finally stares up from his phone but I don't feel anything. I sigh watching my breath fog up the window. In my mind's eye, I see the faces of my distant relatives, hazy and indistinct. I barely remember their faces as the only inkling of what they might look like is a modern photo taken by a 1940s camera when I was 7.I shouldn't sleep. I must stay awake. I have to ensure no one steals my possessions. But it's fine. My bags are up there in a compartment, and besides, Mom is here, too. Yeah, she'll watch over it.

Wait, Mom isn't here! I hear a loud gasp as I jerk awake. I turn around to face a shadow hovering over me. It's a pretty attendant, she has a look of horror on her face. What's her deal? I look down at my watch on my left arm. I notice a trail of droll slathered all over it, I hurriedly wipe the drool against my scarf. The short hand is on 3 and the long hand is on 45. The train must have stopped about 30 minutes ago. I've been asleep for over an hour!