FATE/CURADH BEAG

"Little Champion"

Chapter 19: Endless Tragedy's Resolution

The grotesque spirit of Ulster's final king loomed above the group like an approaching thunder cloud. Once Naoise identified the name of this vengeful spirit, everyone was immediately on high alert.

"Ooooh… That repulsively brave voice… Naoise! You have some nerve, trying to take my prized possession away again!" the spirit, now identified as Ulster's final king, seethed at his mortal enemy. "You still don't understand, do you!? I claimed Deirdre as mine long before you ever came into the picture! Even when she was an infant prophesized to be the most beautiful woman around, I held her fate in my hands! I decided what her future was to be! You have no right to swoop in and take that privilege away from me!"

"SHUT YOUR FILTHY MOUTH, YOU FESTERING PUSTULE!" Naoise howled, nearly on the verge of tears. He wasn't experiencing sorrow or grief for himself. It was pure, unbridled rage that he had trouble keeping under control. "Deirdre is not a toy for you to play with! She is a human being! A woman with a heart that's more beautiful than her face! That's why she is my bride! I'll never, EVER forgive you for this! Not what you did to her in life, nor what you did to her in death! I'll rip you into so many shreds, you'll be begging for death, you useless waste of space!"

"Naoise…" Deirdre shuddered. She had never seen her husband lose his temper so ferociously.

"FWAH HAH HAH HAH HAH! Look at you, being defiant! It's almost adorable!" Conchobhar laughed. "Did you forget how pitifully you and your brothers lost against Eogan and his troops!? You couldn't protect Deirdre from my influence then! What makes you think you'll do it this time!?"

"Joke's on you, asshole! Eogan and his men aren't around to do your bidding, are they!?"

"How laughable! I don't need an army! I have all the power I could ever want at my fingertips!"

"What do you mean!?"

"Now that I am a spirit, I can tap directly into the magical energy that dwells deep within Ireland! The Leyline, and the many souls that Deirdre so graciously sacrificed to it, is my new source of power! Compared to that, you maggots are nothing!"

Connla then stepped forth and pointed her spear at him, declaring, "Yeah, I'm going to have to stop you right there."

"Hoh? Who has the nerve to interrupt me when I-" Conchobhar demanded, but then stopped mid-sentence when he took a closer look at her. He became visibly confused as he uttered, "… Deichtine? Is that you?"

She paused, trying to think of where she heard that name before. Then she recalled what Fergus told her when they were traveling to Emer's home – Deichtine was Conchobhar's sister, and…

Although it was difficult for her to say it, she nevertheless shook her head and responded, "No. Deichtine is my grandmother."

"Your grandmother? T-Then you're… Setanta's child?"

"Yes."

Naoise and Deirdre's throats went dry when they heard this. Conchobhar murmured, "My word… You look so much like her…"

"Conchobhar," Connla murmured. "I'm sorry to have to do this, but I can't allow you to usurp the Leyline for your own purposes any further. The way you tricked Lady Deirdre into sacrificing those innocent women to feed the Leyline is also inexcusable."

"To feed the Leyline? What does that mean?" Deirdre wondered.

"He was haunting you for the express purpose of strengthening the Leyline by feeding it magical energy from human beings. I'm not sure why he wants the Leyline to have so much mana, but it's clear you were just a pawn in his scheme to gain all of Ireland's magical energy for himself."

The distraught woman, now realizing what she had done, sobbed, "That… that's just… too cruel! I killed so many innocent people for him! I can't possibly be forgiven for this!"

Conchobhar chuckled, "He he he he… That's right. It's your fault those people are-"

Connla immediately swung her enchanted spear at his chest, cutting a deep enough gash that forced him to back away. She seethed in a deep scowl, "Shut it."

"…"

"Deirdre," Naoise held his grief-stricken wife close. "She's right - you didn't do anything wrong. Conchobhar was using your sorrow against you. But now your nightmare's over. No matter what it takes, we're going to put this abomination down and free you."

"Ah… Is it true?" she moaned.

Connla stood between Conchobhar and her friends, prepared to stave off any assault he would attempt. However, she could tell that the deceased king had gained a great deal of power ever since his passing. Even without haunting Deirdre's spirit, his wrath against the living had festered exponentially to make him grow to such a dangerous size, meaning it wouldn't be easy for her to banish him by herself. She wasn't sure how he could conceal such intense hatred from the local druids, but haunting Deirdre and forcing her to be his scapegoat probably had something to do with it. Nothing was more convenient to an angry ghost than having someone else take the blame for their insidious actions.

"GWOOOOH!" Conchobhar roared and swiped his skeletal talons into an X formation, generating a pair of wind sickles that sliced through the air at Connla. She retaliated by swinging her enchanted spear at the lethal projectile, practically smashing against it with all her might to dissipate it. Although the muscles in her arms and hands reverberated like gelatin from the aftershock, she ignored the sensation and raised her left hand high, drawing a Rune that looked like an hourglass lying on its side. The symbol materialized in front of Conchobhar's face, and he glared at it perplexedly.

"Dagaz!" Connla shouted. The Rune shimmered for a moment, then burst to release an intense blinding light.

"GWAAA~AAAH! IT HURTS!" Conchobhar shrieked as he struggled to cover his eyes. "CURSE YOU, DEMON CHILD! I'LL DESTROY YOU FOR EMBARRASSING ME LIKE THIS!"

"Fir! Fial!" the girl warrior shouted to the twins while her opponent was distracted.

"What is it?" Fial asked.

"I need you two to do me a huge favor."

She hurriedly whispered her plan to them, then said, "Do it quick. I'll buy you some time, but everything's going to rely on you guys."

Fir became determined as he replied, "Okay. Leave it to us."

The twins scurried off in opposite directions, hiding themselves within the tall grass as Conchobhar soon regained his sight. Connla hurtled some small fireballs at him to keep his attention on her, then scampered down the road.

"You dare run away from me!? I won't let you escape!" the wrathful king shouted and pursued her. Luckily, he didn't realize that the actual reason she fled wasn't to escape from him – it was to put some distance between him and Naoise so he could carry Deirdre off to a safer location without Conchobhar noticing.

The ghost effortlessly caught up to Connla and raised his scepter, intent on slamming it upon her head. She generated some wind Runes on the soles of her boots and blasted forth to avoid the blow, which was strong enough to generate a small crater. She deftly vaulted like a gymnast to regain her balance, then crouched as she got a better look at her surroundings.

This should be good enough, she thought.

Conchobhar bellowed an insidious laugh, then declared, "There's nowhere for you to run now! Once I'm through with you, I'll spread my influence all across Ulster, dooming all of its citizens to such endless grief and agony that they will commit suicide en masse! Then the Leyline, powered by all of those pitiful souls, will be strong enough for me to exact my revenge against Medb for humiliating me!"

"So that's what it is," Connla realized. "You're trying to take Ulster back from Queen Medb."

"Naturally! I refuse to be known as the 'final king' of Ulster! Now that Ireland is the last remaining country in this entire world, and I have long since shed my worthless mortal shell, I see no reason to deny myself the privilege of becoming Ulster's eternal king!"

She figured it wasn't worth pointing out that Scotland was still around, but nevertheless retorted, "I understand your frustration, but I can't allow the Leyline to be wasted on such a callous goal."

"Why!? Do you not see the nobility of my conquest!? Medb is evil incarnate! Only I have the power to silence her!"

"Lord Cathbad tasked me with protecting the Leyline, so that we may face an enemy even greater than Queen Medb. Regardless of your intentions, I still made a promise to him, and I'm going to keep it no matter what."

"Hrrrrgh… Cathbad! No matter where I go or what I do, that ancient fossil always has the nerve to obstruct me! Fine then! If you're his agent, then I have no choice but to reduce you into an unrecognizable heap of meat and bones!"

With their discussion breaking down so rapidly, violence was going to be the only answer for them. Conchobhar swooped in and batted his scepter against Connla's spear, forcing them into a stalemate. She struggled against him, but her boots scraped along the dirt as her petite stature proved to be ineffective against the ghost's massive form. He roared and finally threw her high into the air. She tumbled several times, noticing that he flew after her and was about to carve her into pieces with his claws. Acting on pure instinct, she generated a platform Rune that she landed on for a split second, then hopped off to soar in an arc over him as he attacked nothing but air. As she sailed, she fired dozens of small Nauthiz fireballs at him. The blue flames popped all over Conchobhar's body like firecrackers, dislodging some of his pulsating viscera off of his skeletal torso.

The assault didn't faze him much as he whirled around and chased after Connla once more. She kept stymieing him further with more platforms and fireballs as she whipped all around him like a ricocheting bullet. However, she nearly got hit when he raised his fist and punched straight at her. If he had struck her, the strike would have been no different than a full-sized boulder slamming against her entire body. Miraculously, she reacted in time to pommel herself over the bony fist, then dashed along the exposed arm until she bounced off his shoulder and generated the strongest Nauthiz Rune she could in that moment.

BOOM!

"GWAAAAH!" Conchobhar howled as the fireball exploded directly on his face, causing him to collapse to the ground in surprise. Connla fell past him and landed nearby. The angry spirit regained his bearings and floating back into the air, glaring at her with the wrath of a hundred demons.

"Fwah hah hah hah hah! I see! You really are Cuchulainn's offspring! You fight as monstrously as he did when he was your age!" Conchobhar howled in mirth. "In all honesty, I always was afraid of your father! He was so strong and irrational that he treated friend and foe alike as enemies to be destroyed! But I also saw it as an opportunity to boost my own reputation! How many kings can claim to be related to a genuine demigod, born between the union of a human woman and the most famous warrior of the Tuatha de Danann!?"

"Cuchulainn said something to that effect too. I guess he had every reason to be disgusted with you," Connla muttered.

"But compared to him, you're just a regular little whelp who has Deichtine's face! You're nowhere near as strong as him, and you're certainly not capable of stopping me!"

"I know. You've grown so powerful as a spirit that it'd have to take someone of Scathach or Cathbad's caliber to send you to the next life on their own."

"Honest, aren't we? Good! Admitting how weak you are in the face of your king is the hallmark of a proper subject! Now be a good girl and let me destroy your mortal shell so I can strengthen the Leyline with your magical energy!"

"I don't think so," Connla coolly retorted. Suddenly, she started to run off to the side as she screamed, "FIR! FIAL! DO IT NOW!"

Conchobhar froze in place, wondering what she was up to. That was when he spotted the twins emerging from the grass on opposite sides of the road. They raised their arms simultaneously and began to chant.

"Nauðr gerer næppa koste," Fir murmured.

"Nøktan kælr í froste," Fial whispered. †

Then they shouted together, "NAUTHIZ!"

The area around Conchobhar shimmered blue as their spell activated. He was caught within a cylinder of magical energy being generated by a complex Runic circle that the twins created, all while Connla kept Conchobhar occupied. That had been the favor she asked them to do, which they accomplished by using the Runestones that Morrigan gave them for protection against wandering spirits. The magic circle intensified in power once the children finished their spell.

"AAAAAAA~AAAAAAAAA~AAAAAAAGH!"

Although the light pillar was too bright for anyone to see what was going on inside, the trio could hear Conchobhar's distinctly shrill scream rip through the air all around them. When the spell eventually lost its energy, the pillar vanished to reveal that the large ghost had greatly decreased in size after taking such a fatal hit. The majority of the hatred and vanity he clung so desperately to had been cleansed, reducing him to the level of an average ghost one could find roaming about in the Land of Shadows. Ethereal smoke curled off of his torso, even billowing through his dropped jaw as he glared intensely at the children who defied him.

"Oooogh… You… heathens…" he moaned.

"Give it up, Conchobhar. Your ambitions end here," Connla told him.

"Never. I won't… be stopped… here. Not… when I'm… so close… to… reclaiming… Ulster…"

His heavy breathing sounded like a seething snake as he suddenly turned toward Fial on the western side of the road and rushed straight for the startled girl. She was so astonished that she couldn't scream, and collapsed onto her buttocks in fright.

"Sis!" Fir screamed.

"Damn it!" Connla cursed, futilely trying to intercept him. She wouldn't make it in time… but luckily, she didn't need to.

"AGH!?" the ghost yelped as he ceased his advance all of a sudden. Then his outstretched arm severed off from the base of his shoulder and dropped to the ground, disappearing in a murky haze. Conchobhar barely noticed this as his eyes made contact with Naoise's livid glare. Indeed, the swordsman had rushed in and cleaved his hated enemy's arm off before he could hurt Fial.

"This… can't… be happening…" the despairing spirit shuddered.

"Hell isn't good enough for a piece of shit like you," Naoise snarled in a deep voice, and his expression twisted into the most hateful glare he could manage. "Only the darkest depths of oblivion will have any room for you. Believe me when I say this… but I'm more than happy to send you straight there right this instant!"

As Naoise raised his sword to exact his long-waited vengeance upon Conchobhar, Connla and Fir helped Fial get back up. They retreated just as Naoise began his rabid onslaught, flailing his sword about in random slashes that hacked through the ghost's body, carving more and more pieces of his skeleton and viscera off that enveloped the area around Naoise's feet into pure grey murkiness. Eventually, all that remained of Conchobhar were his skull and portions of his spine and ribcage. He collapsed onto the ground, utterly defeated and unable to speak.

Fir and Fial refused to look back at the carnage unfolding before them. Connla wasn't as disturbed by the sight, but was still rather surprised by how much rage the handsome swordsman had contained until now. In contrast, Deirdre watched with absolute shock and horror, covering her mouth as she was unable to look away at her husband's rampage.

"HRAAAAAAGH!" Naoise screamed like a banshee, intent on cracking the skull into pieces with one final stab of his sword.

"Halt, Naoise!"

"Whuh-!?" he stopped when an unexpected voice interrupted him. Everyone turned to look toward the source of this unexpected cry. A cloaked figure donning a heavy hood and carrying a wooden cane sauntered toward the startled group.

"Lower thine sword, Naoise – thine vengeance is complete," a familiar old woman's voice murmured. "By thine combined efforts, mine liege's wrath hath been quelled. He hath not long for this world any longer."

Deirdre gasped in sheer surprise and blurted, "Leabharcham!? What are you doing here!?"

"Deirdre, mine child…" the elderly poet murmured. "Forgive me for mine weakness and incompetence. Because of mine ineptitude, thou and Naoise hath suffered dearly at the hands of the king I vested so much faith in."

"Madam…" Naoise whispered.

"After thine deaths, I hath grown deeply conflicted. I did mine best to protect thee both, but it required me to betray mine liege by lying to him. That deception wound up being exposed, yet I was not the one to suffer the consequences for it. I often wondered if t'was something else I could hath done to convince Lord Conchobhar to let thee live happily. I wanted him so badly to understand that thou weren't a possession for him to claim."

Leabharcham gazed at the defeated Conchobhar and moaned, "Ah… How mine heart aches to see thee fall so far from grace, mine beloved king. Even if t'was under thine mother's guidance during thine youth, thou were once a wonderful ruler, loved by the court so much that Fergus mac Roich was pushed out of his kingship. I cannot erase the memory of thine kind visage as thou spoke stern yet compassionate advice to thine subjects. Thou found value even in a worthless cripple of a poet as mineself.

"O, mine king. Where did it all go wrong? How did thou venture the path of selfishness? I scarcely wish to believe I hath been enamored by a puppet ruler manipulated by Ness' strings, then cut loose to indulge in indolence after her passing. There once hath been an independent sparkle in thine eyes. Where hath that light vanished to? Why doth I gaze upon a hollow monster bent on ruining Deirdre's life further? I beseech thee; put mine doubts to rest, as thou once did as King of Ulster."

"Leabharcham…" Conchobhar whispered.

She lowered her heavy hood and slowly approached him as she declared, "I know. Thou art unable to answer. 'Tis a path I hath had to discover on mine own. T'was found when I observed these children challenge thine corruption in fierce combat. They should be our hope and future, yet they must clean up the mess we hath left behind for them. I hath made only excuses for mineself to avoid the need to confront thee directly, thus forcing our youth to shoulder the burden. In essence, I hath been running away from what needs to be done."

She rested her withered hand on Connla's shoulder and murmured, "Especially thou. How painful it must be. Thou must be deeply disappointed in thine ancestry's blatant debauchery. Thou art the great-niece of a hateful spirit, and the daughter of the god of destruction that besieges us. Yet thou raises thine spear in Deirdre's defense regardless."

The child warrior cast her eyes down. Leabharcham had perfectly described the frustration welling within her, which she did her best to hide from the others. She was so struck with emotions that she couldn't say anything without maintaining her stoic façade. She bit her lower lip and looked away, while Leabharcham kneeled before Conchobhar and cradled his skull upon her lap.

"I remember when thou were first coronated as Ulster's king. Thou were but a lad, no older than these children. Despite being Ness' puppet ruler, thine eyes shone bright, and thine words rung true amongst thy subjects. Many hath begged for Fergus mac Roich to be ousted to protect their wives and daughters from his flagrant depravity. Thou did quell that fear with thine guidance in such dark times. Thou did find value even in me, a disabled woman incapable of naught more than spinning words upon parchment. Thou did give me a place in a world that scorns physical imperfection, even granting me a home from which I may practice mine craft in peace.

"Yet, I failed to protect thee from thine own vices. Now, those sins hath twisted thee into a monster. No more, mine liege. Sully thine good name no longer. Cease thine terrorizing of the living, and of Deirdre's tormented heart. Set thyself free from thine material desires, and let us pass on to the afterlife, where we ghosts of the past belong. The future now belongs to these young souls – let us watch them spread their wings from afar."

Leabharcham them closed her eyes and raised her head as she proceeded to perform what was known as a caoineadh, or a keening song. It was a type of vocal tradition passed among women; a form of mourning for the deceased that involved singing lyrics that were spontaneously used depending on the life of the deceased. This had been one of Leabharcham's duties back when she was younger. Conchobhar had asked her to wander the roads to search of unmarked graves and perform keenings for Ireland's unsung victims. She had gladly accepted the task and spent several years bringing peace for grieving families. Now she would perform one more keening rite for both herself and Conchobhar, so that this terrible incident would finally have the closure it was looking for.

"Ah… wook," Fial whispered and pointed at the road beneath Leabharcham.

A gentle light shone around the elderly woman, emanating from a small Runic circle she had cast while speaking with Conchobhar. It wasn't anything fancy; just a much more concentrated version of the giant Nauthiz enchantment the twins had used to weaken Conchobhar. As the light continued to shine, Leabharcham's body soon slumped onto its side in a heap, and her keening song ceased. The final remnants of Conchobhar's spirit dissipated as the spell purged any remaining hatred out of his soul. A minute later, the enchantment wore off. All that was left was the heavy silence, accented by the wind blowing through the tall grass.


A few hours later, Naoise rested a headstone upon the grave that everyone worked on to bury Leabharcham's body within. Connla used some Runes to inscribe the poet's name upon it, as well as a brief epitaph that read in Irish, "The most loyal subject to her king."

"There. That should do it," Naoise said. They stepped back to observe their handiwork. The grave had been dug right next to the stone that Deirdre used to end her own life. It would be impossible for any travelers to miss it, meaning there was a likelihood that someone would discover it and bring attention to Leabharcham's death.

"Well, that's that," Connla murmured. "One of the Three Blights has been resolved."

"It was a tough battle, but we somehow did it," Fir said. He then glanced at Fial and added, "I'm glad that Auntie's Runestones were a big help. I bet she'll be proud of us for putting them to good use."

"Yeah. It's not evewy day that we have to deal with a big bad ghostie wike that."

Connla shook her head and remarked, "I don't necessarily think that Conchobhar was bad. In fact, I don't think this had anything to do with 'good' or 'evil'."

"What do you mean?"

"Cuchulainn might have been right about Conchobhar's authority being based on taking from others. But Madam Leabharcham also said that Conchobhar was around our age when he took the throne from Uncle Fergus. That means the concept of taking others' possessions and dignity were ingrained into him from a young age. In fact, even the Cattle Raid of Cooley was instigated entirely by Queen Medb wanting to take the bull Cuailgne for herself. It's been the way that all kings and queens assert their authority for generations. Conchobhar didn't know of any other way to rule. If this incident represents any sort of conflict, it is of the nobility's established way of life versus the grief and sorrow they cause for their subjects."

Connla put her hands behind her back and walked away as she continued in a forlorn tone, "It continues even now. Soon, we will be thrust into the throes of a war between Queen Medb and Cuchulainn, all centered on their undying hatred for each other. Our thoughts, feelings, and opinions have meant nothing to them as they ravaged the world around them in their bitter feud."

Fir frowned and muttered, "I guess so…"

Deirdre approached Connla and asked, "Speaking of Cuchulainn, is it true that you are his daughter?"

"Yes," she replied and showed her the thumb ring. "This Bloodstone ring I wear proves my lineage with him."

"So you're also Conchobhar's descendant?"

"I am, through his sister Deichtine."

Naoise grew concerned as he wondered, "Then was Leabharcham right? Was this your way of apologizing to us for Conchobhar's actions? That you wanted to atone for your great-uncle's sins when he refused to do so?"

"… Probably."

"Why? You know there's no need for that. We might've only found out your connection with him just now, but there's no way Deirdre and I could blame you for it."

"…"

"Naoise," Deirdre stopped him. "That's not what we should be saying to her."

"It isn't?" he blurted and grew perplexed.

She smiled, then kneeled before Connla and said, "What we should be saying is 'thank you'."

"Oh…"

"Connla, I can't thank you enough for your assistance. You didn't have to do all of this, but you did it anyway. No words can express how grateful I am for your efforts. That goes for you two as well, Fir and Fial. You were all so remarkable out there."

"Eh he he he," Fir chuckled and scratched his chin sheepishly, while Fial blushed profusely and pressed her hands against her cheeks.

Connla wasn't so enthralled by Deirdre's gesture, as she said, "Well, my job really is to protect the Leyline until Lord Cathbad needs it. All of this was kind of… well… what's the word for it… an unfortunate aside? Or, um… tying a critical loose end? Something like that…"

"I understand. You weren't expecting any of this to happen," Deirdre assured. "But it all worked out in the end, didn't it?"

"I guess so. That's one of the three blights taken care of, at least. I still have two more to look for."

"Then Naoise and I will help! Isn't that right, dear?"

"Whuh-? Oh, right!" Naoise yelped, since she caught him unprepared. "Of course we will! It's the least we can do for you!"

"But you two really should move on to the afterlife. If my teacher were here, she'd be telling me to perform your final rites for you…" Connla moaned.

"No way. Not when the world is in such a sorry state. Besides, Leabharcham's right about one thing; I can't leave you children to clean up such a huge mess by yourselves. To that end, I'll join you in battle when you need me to."

"Sorry to say that I don't have any combat capabilities of my own, but I can at least look after the twins," Deirdre offered.

Connla murmured, "I see… Well, if Fir and Fial are okay with this arrangement, then there shouldn't be a problem."

"Of couwse!" Fial chirped. "The mowe, the mewwier, wight?"

"Mew-weer?"

"She means 'merrier'," Fir interjected.

"Oh dear," Deirdre frowned. "I think you need some help with your speech, Fial. Maybe we should sit down and practice some words tonight."

"No way! I wike the way I tawk!" the girl objected.

"Now, now, don't be like that. Wouldn't it be awkward for you to grow up speaking like that?"

"Phooey! It's not wike Fir and I can gwow up anyway!"

"… Oh?"

"Shhh! Fial, don't say too much!" Fir hissed and quickly covered his sister's mouth, but it was too late. The others had grown too curious to find out what she had meant.

Deirdre leaned in and asked, "What do you mean, you can't grow up? Is there something wrong with you two?"

"Ah! Well, um… The thing is…" Fir stumbled on his words, unable to think of a good reply.

Connla narrowed her eyes and frowned. Then, she said, "I think I know what's going on."

"Huh? You do?"

"I said I think I know. To explain, I'm going to have to confess something."

"What is it?" Fial wondered.

"Ever since we met back in Scotland, I always thought something seemed 'off' about you two. Since I trained in Dun Scaith, I've become attuned to the presence of spirits, and can pick them up even in this world. It was obvious from Sir Naoise and Lady Deirdre's story that they were already dead, but I still picked up on their spiritual aura regardless. However, while I know absolutely nothing about you two other than being Morrigan's niece and nephew, I've been suspicious about something for this whole time. I want you guys to answer me truthfully."

Connla approached the twins and asked her question in a firm tone:

"Are you two also dead spirits?"

Fir and Fial's jaws slightly dropped as they balked from Connla's question. They glanced at each other uneasily, unsure if they should answer her or not. Connla eased her expression when she realized how nervous they were. Was she poking her nose into some kind of business she shouldn't have?

"Oh ho ho ho! How astute you are!" a shrill woman's voice suddenly cawed, slicing through the building tension and causing everyone present to yelp in surprise.

"Who's there!?" Naoise demanded and raised his sword.

However, the twins cried out simultaneously, "Auntie!"

Indeed, a familiar black bird flew through the trees, circled the party, and landed on the lowest branch she could find. The avian gazed down at them, then telepathically said, "Good work on purging Conchobhar from the Leyline, by the way. Cathbad's going to be pleased when I tell him about it."

"O-Oh, right. He said you'd act as a liaison between us," Connla realized.

"I'm sorry, but who might you be?" Deirdre asked the bird. "I don't believe we've made our acquaintance with you."

"This is Auntie Morrigan," Fir said.

"Morrigan!? As in the goddess of war, death and fate!?"

"Yeah."

Naoise and Deirdre were struck dumb by how they were conversing with one of the Tuatha de Danann's last remaining gods in this world. Morrigan adjusted her wings, then chuckled, "Oh my. I guess I've gained quite the reputation, haven't I? Well, while those two are busy picking their jaws off the ground, let me confirm Connla's suspicions for you all."

"Then am I right? Are Fir and Fial supposed to be dead?" the child warrior eagerly asked.

"They are. Their mother had a miscarriage with them. But due to the warped nature of this world, their spirits incarnated as the children you see. They were lost for quite a while until I found them wandering around in Scotland."

"So they were stillborn… But if you're their aunt, who's their mother? And their father, for that matter. Is their mother also a goddess? Are they still alive?"

Morrigan shook her head. "I'm afraid they're no longer with us. The twins' stillbirth was so traumatic for my sister's body and mind that she died giving birth to them. But she did leave a little parting gift behind; a terrible curse that afflicts all those who live in Ulster."

"A curse?"

Naoise gasped as he realized, "Wait a second! I think I've heard of this! During my search for Deirdre, I spoke with several warriors who mentioned a curse that prevents them from fighting against invaders from outside Ulster. Not only do they resent Cuchulainn for losing during the Cattle Raid, they also despise the woman who placed the curse on all of Ulster's warriors. It's what prevented Cuchulainn from having any backup during Connacht's invasion, forcing him to fight that war all alone."

"Precisely," Morrigan said. "It was Fir and Fial's deaths that drove my sister to curse everyone in Ulster."

"And the name of that woman was…"

"Macha."

Connla inhaled sharply as she realized where this conversation was going. She had heard that name before, when Cathbad identified the Three Blights she needed to resolve. One of them was indeed…

"The Curse of Macha!" she exclaimed.

Morrigan nodded. "It seems you understand which blight you should deal with next. I should warn you though – this incident is going to be a considerable step up from pacifying Conchobhar. Banishing a wrathful ghost is one thing. Eliminating a curse that bounds the warriors of Ulster will be a significantly more difficult challenge, especially when your opponent is an earth goddess who had been wronged by humanity. But if you are able to overcome it, the rewards will be much greater."

"So… we have to fight Mama next?" Fial whimpered sadly.

The bird goddess quickly flew onto her niece's shoulder, then said, "I never said anything about fighting her. All that needs to be done is to rid Ulster of Macha's curse."

"Uuh…"

Morrigan rested her wing on Fial's head and cooed, "Perhaps it is something you should concern yourself with at a later time. It won't do you any good to worry about your mother when you're so worn out from that battle."

"Mm."

"In the meantime, I will report to Cathbad and Fergus of your success, and of your next objective," the goddess said to Connla.

"How are the war preparations going, anyway?" the child soldier asked.

"Things have been proceeding smoothly. Medb doesn't suspect anything, although it will become apparent that something suspicious is going on once more and more of her soldiers start to align themselves with Fergus' cause. Fergus and Cathbad are bringing Leinster's warriors together, while Lugaid and Ferdiad are responsible for rallying Munster's troops."

"Lugaid and Ferdiad? Who are they?"

"Ah, I believe you didn't meet them in Galway. They are fellow Champions, just like you are. Lugaid is Cu Roi's son, and heir to the throne of Munster. Ferdiad is another one of Scathach's pupils who trained alongside Cuchulainn."

"I see… But the war efforts will be in vain if we don't do something about Macha's curse."

"Indeed. Your work here is going to matter a lot more to everyone from now on. Don't let Fergus and the others down."

"I won't."

"Then I will take my leave," Morrigan said and batted her wings until she ascended high into the sky, vanishing into the distance until she resembled a tiny black dot flying into the early evening sunset.


AUTHOR'S NOTE:

† - "Constraint gives scant choice; a naked man is chilled by the frost." The Old Norwegian Runic poem associated with the Nauthiz Rune.