Conn is the youngest of the infamous ‘Children of Lir’. He has three older siblings, his sister, Fionnuala, his brother, Aodh and his twin, Fiachra. The story of Conn and his family has been recorded as one of the most tragic and sorrowful tales in Irish mythology.

They lived quiet happily for a short time on ‘the Hill of the White Field’ in County Armagh until tragedy struck! Eve, Conn’s mother, died of a mysterious illness when Conn was very young. He does not remember very much about her, but he does remember feeling very happy when she was around. His father, Lir, remarried Eve’s sister, Aoife, and life carried on.

Unfortunately, Aoife became very jealous of Lir’s affection for his children. In a blind fit of rage, she turned all four children into swans and cursed them to spend 900 years at various locations around Ireland
and far away from their father.

It is said that the children died and went to heaven when the curse ended but other sources believe their father came for them at the time of their deaths and spirited them away to Tír Na nÓg where they live to this day.

Conn is over 5,000 years old in his realm but thinks he is about 13 or 14 in mortal years. He’s not sure as there is no time in Tír Na nÓg.  He is currently training to be one of the ‘Ceannairi’, which are the leaders of the Sidhe. They are said to possess magical powers such as healing, shape shifting, telepathy and telekinesis. He’ s not very good at it yet as he hates studying and homework.

Conn isn’t sure either what he looks like. He spends a lot of his time in swan form, even in Tír Na nÓg. When he has to look like himself for banquets and stuff, he has shoulder length wavy brown hair and big green eyes with dark lashes that make him look like he’s wearing mascara. He wears whatever Fionnula tells him to wear, which is usually a brown/green tunic and a dark, brown, baggy trousers tapered at the ankles. He is far more mischievous and adventurous than his straight-laced twin, so when he hears that one of the Ceannairi has visited the mortal ream –
he jumps… or rather flies at the chance to go too.

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