The bystander led Alan to his hut, his face grave as he recounted the long-standing legend.
"These stories have been passed down for centuries," the bystander began. "The myth of the banshee has seeped into the hearts of many, each telling a different version. Some say the banshee is a hideous, old witch, others claim she's a beautiful woman. In some tales, she appears as a simple washerwoman—her clothes stained with blood, foretelling doom for whoever crosses her path. Banshees can take many forms, even disguising themselves as animals like weasels, ferrets, hares, or ravens, creatures often linked with witchcraft in Ireland."
He paused, his voice hushed with the weight of the tale. "Most commonly, though, she appears as a woman—either strikingly beautiful or grotesque. She's usually seen wearing white or off-white robes, combing her long, pale hair with a silver comb. Legend says the banshee uses the comb to lure souls to death, which is why the Irish never pick up a comb from the ground. In other accounts, she wears a skirt of green, red, or black, hidden beneath a grey cape. The banshee is almost always described as blonde, with flowing pale hair, and it's said that if you find her comb, you must never touch it."
The bystander's eyes darkened. "An old poem speaks of her eerie presence:
Did you hear the banshee's voice in the morning,
Passing by the silent lake,
Or through the fields next to the orchard?
Poor me! I don't like to consider the white garland in my parents' living room.
"Though the banshee's voice is often heard at dawn, it's rarely seen or heard during the day. She comes at night, a harbinger of death."
He sighed and looked at Alan with somber eyes. "The banshees have taken our beloved princess. Many brave men have tried to rescue her, but none have returned. We have lost all hope."
"Where is your king's palace?" Alan asked, his voice steady.
The bystander was silent for a moment before answering. "Go north. You will find a lake there. Across the water lies our king's palace."
Alan nodded and, with his steed, set off. They journeyed through countless villages and kingdoms before reaching the kingdom of O'Neill. As they approached the gates, the soldiers, wary of strangers, barred his entry. Alan requested an audience with their king, claiming he could help. The soldiers, skeptical of his words, ignored him at first. But when he spoke of the witch, they were taken aback and allowed him in—though a group of soldiers followed as a precaution.
"Our King, O'Neal, angered the banshees some days ago," one of the soldiers explained. "He found the horns of a cow entangled in thorns—a sacred symbol to the banshees. Foolishly, he freed the animal, unknowingly provoking their wrath. That night, a storm raged, and by morning, the bodies of our guards were scattered across the kingdom. When we searched, we discovered that the banshees had taken our princess. The king rushed to Lake Nye, but his army was no match for their power."
Alan's brow furrowed. "Why is that?"
"The banshees cannot be killed by mere weapons. Only a golden blade can defeat them," the soldier explained. "But the banshees have taken all the gold from our kingdom and nearby realms. Diego, our bravest warrior, tried to rescue her, but…"
Alan knew what needed to be done. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a golden ring, then sought out a blacksmith.
"Mister, are you headed to the lake?" the blacksmith asked.
Alan nodded. "Yes."
The blacksmith's gaze grew serious. "Are you sure? It's dangerous."
Alan met his gaze. "Yes."
Without another word, the blacksmith crafted a fine golden dagger and handed Alan a special arrow. "This arrow was passed down from my father. It's said to have the power to burn an entire kingdom. Use it well, for our king has a kind heart. His health has deteriorated since the princess was taken. Please, help us."
Alan thanked the blacksmith and mounted his steed, riding for three days and nights until he reached a mist-covered forest. The locals spoke of Lake Nye, located at the forest's heart. Beneath its waters, they said, lay the banshees' kingdom.
Leaving his horse behind, Alan ventured into the forest. The air was thick with fog, and the woods were eerily silent save for the buzzing of insects. As he approached the lake, its crystal-clear waters shimmered under the dull light. At the bottom of the lake, a stone structure loomed—said to be the entrance to the banshee's castle.
Alan hesitated but steeled himself. He dove into the cold waters, holding his breath as the pressure threatened to overwhelm him. Just as he was about to lose consciousness, an opening appeared, and to his surprise, he found he could breathe. Inside the castle, he heard an eerie laugh echoing through the halls.
He gripped the golden dagger tightly and moved cautiously toward the sound. As he crept closer, he saw several banshees gathered around a figure—a young girl, unconscious, caught in a ritual. The banshees were trying to convert her into one of their own.
The queen entered, her long, white hair flowing as she combed it with a crystal comb. Alan knew he couldn't fight them all at once. He stayed hidden, waiting for the right moment. When the banshees left, he approached the girl.
"Who are you?" she whispered as Alan gently shook her awake.
"I've come to save you, princess," Alan replied. "I know how to defeat them."
She frowned, weak but determined. "Even if you kill one, the others will come after you. But there's a way. If you kill the queen and destroy her comb, all the banshees will turn to stone. The queen's comb is the source of their power."
Alan nodded. "Do you know where she is?"
"I'm not sure, but I've heard her singing from the upper right chamber. You'll hear her when you're close."
Alan thanked the princess and silently made his way through the castle. When he reached the chamber, he saw the queen's comb lying on a bed. He threw it to the floor, shattering it with a single strike.
"No!" the queen shrieked as she rushed to the room. Alone now, she lashed out at Alan with sharp claws. But Alan was quick, leaping aside and slashing at her leg with the golden dagger. The queen howled in pain, but she charged again. Alan ducked, then drove the dagger into her chest.
With a final scream, the queen fell, and the castle began to tremble. The banshees screeched as the water started flooding in, their forms turning to stone.
The princess was free.
Together, they emerged from the castle and made their way to the surface. Once they reached the shore, Alan helped the princess onto her steed, and they rode back to her kingdom.
The king, overjoyed to see his daughter safe, threw a grand feast in Alan's honor. He invited Alan to stay, but Alan knew his journey was far from over. He had to continue his quest, though parting from Shannon was harder than he'd imagined.
The king, seeing the bond that had formed between Alan and his daughter, offered Alan his royal sword. "For your bravery," he said.
Alan accepted the gift but declined the king's offer to stay. His mission was not complete. As he left the kingdom, he glanced back one last time at Shannon, knowing that his path still lay ahead.