Oisín left and did not return. Fionn had asked him to, running to him as he left, begging him to promise to return to him within three years. Oisín made that promise. And yet he did not return.

Bran and Sceólang ran alongside Fionn no longer.

Oscar died not long after. He saw the bean sí washing the blood from his clothing, and he heard her weeping for him. He went to battle despite the omens and was struck down in front of Fionn.

Fionn tried to heal him, of course he did. Something had driven the water he held sour though. A broken geas, or just guilt, made his healing magic stop working.

Tensions between the Fianna and the High King grew worse. One High King died. Some coward’s death choking on his own food. His replacement was just as vengeful and status driven.

And when fighting broke out the Fianna did not fight as one, above the loyalties of king and clan. Instead Goll and clan Morna, the same traitorous group as before, left to fight for the new High King.

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When Goll eventually died it was not heroic, not some mighty death in battle. He did not get the chance to look Fionn in the eye and refuse to beg. Instead he ran and hid from Fionn. He was too old and frightened to put up a proper fight. He landed in some seaside cave where he starved to death in hiding. He had earned being remembered by poets during his life, but of his death no stories would be told.

There were no new heroes of the Fianna. Fionn trained new boys sure, and they would show bravery and strength and promise, but on their first battle they would fall dead beside him. The lucky ones did so bravely in the sight of poets, many were unlucky.

Fionn no longer played fidchell on warm mornings. His heart would ache and his hands would cramp and he would be unable to focus on where to move the pieces. It didn’t matter, no one around was good enough to challenge him at it anyway.

Instead on warm mornings he sat, he listened for deer. He told stories of long ago to anyone who would sit and talk to him.

On one such morning a messenger approached. She said how someone had come to challenge his leadership, and he should prepare for a fight.

It was fitting. The Fianna was in as bad a state now as it had been when Fionn took leadership of it. A young hero, one without the shame of a broken geas on them, would do good for the Fianna.