That much is recorded. Beyond the bare fact of its existence and classification as a monument, the details remain locked away, undigitised and waiting. It is a peculiar kind of obscurity, one that belongs not to remote geography or deliberate concealment but simply to the slow pace of archival work catching up with the sheer number of things Ireland has managed to accumulate over the centuries.

Clare is a county with no shortage of ecclesiastical remains. Early medieval churches, often small single-cell structures built from dry-laid or mortared stone, survive across the landscape in varying states of ruin, many of them associated with local saints whose cults have long faded from living memory. The townland name Fahy, derived from the Irish "faithche", meaning a green or exercise ground often associated with an early settlement, hints at a place with some depth of occupation. Whether the church at Fahy belongs to that early medieval tradition, or to a later period of construction, is precisely the kind of question the surviving documentation could answer, if that documentation were more readily to hand.

For now, the site sits in that particular category of Irish monument that is known to exist, formally recognised, and yet largely undescribed in any publicly accessible form. It is a reminder that the archaeological record of Ireland is vast, and that the process of making it legible is still very much underway.