I-6: Legend of the Mornellys- Chapter One
|Mornelly Siblings. Copyright © 2015 by Ana Mae.|
I-6: Legend of the Mornellys
In which we meet a strange family
A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away-
“We’re not from a galaxy, Damhán.”
Damhán glared up at Breandan, who was staring at the computer screen from behind. “I know that! But the reader’s didn’t, and you just ruined it for me!”
“Lying to youths. Shame on you, Damhán,” Ciarán grunted, having walked into the room and hearing part of the conversation.
Damhán growled something under his breath and swung away from the laptop. He crossed his arms and leveled his eyes. “I’m not lying, I’m embellishing. What’s the difference between a galaxy and a parallel fantasy world, anyway?”
“You call Asieopia a fantasy world? Asieopia isn’t fantasy, it’s real!” Aileen popped up from behind a couch, a book in her hand. Her green eyes snapped. She glared at Damhán. “This is a fantasy world,” she said, waving a book titled The Animun Legacy around. “I mean come on, Animuns who can turn into people? Seriously? But Asieopia isn’t fantasy. It exists!”
“Yeah, well, when you write a book and it includes another world that’s not on a different planet, it’s called fantasy,” Damhán retorted. “What a bunch of critics. Can I get to writing here or what? And I think the beginning is fine. It’s mysterious.”
“I think the beginning is a line from Star Wars, isn’t it?” Bran appeared from around a corner, a cup of coffee in his hand. He leaned against the door-frame. “It’s not very original if you take a line from someone else’s work.”
“Let me write, you guys!” Damhán groaned and thunked his head against the keyboard. “Seriously! I write the first line of our great novel and you all are on me like a pack of dogs, correcting it! Critics! Naysayers! I won’t let you stand in my way and hinder me from writing the next New York Times best selling book! See how much you laugh when my name appears as one of the best selling authors ever!”
Damhán howled and put his hands over the top of his head, shaking it. “Yowwww!” He spun the chair around and glared up at Aichear. “What did you do that for?”
Aichear shrugged, newspaper rolled up in his right hand. He adjusted his glasses, bent over and peered at the computer screen. Straightening, he unfolded his newspaper and nodded to the laptop. “Plagiarism is a crime. We’re not from another galaxy. And only one percent of authors ever make it big. Now, fix the first sentence.”
He headed for the living room.
Damhán rubbed his head and moaned. “Wow. You guys are awful, you know that?”
“Fix the sentence, Damhán.” Breandan smiled. “If you’re going to start a novel, be original. Write something that only you can write. I know you could write a great book, but you need to be yourself, not George Lucas or Steven Spielberg. Okay?”
“Fine.” Damhán turned back to the laptop. He backspaced over his first sentence and re-typed- Once upon a tim-
“Way too common. Everyone uses that,” Ciarán interjected.
Damhán slapped the laptop shut. “I give up. That’s it. Thus begins and ends the great career of Damhán Mornelly, would-be New York Times best selling author and world renowned novelist. His career was hindered by the meddling of his stupid siblings.”
“So sad,” Bran called from the kitchen.
“Yes, it is!” Damhán retorted. “You guys are the reason I’ll never be famous.”
“If you noticed, we’re already legends, so you really can’t say we aren’t famous,” Aileen pointed out. She appeared from behind the couch again. “We’ve been part of folklore since the 500s. Even before.”
“Yeah. That’s us. Not me. I want to be famous.” He rolled his eyes. “You can be so childish, Aileen.”
“What? Me, childish? You’re the one acting like a spoiled teen!”
“Yeah, well, you’re telling me what to do and pretending to be wise!” Damhán retorted.
“Wow. So mature.” Ciarán glanced at the two. “You two can be so dumb.”
“Ciarán!” Damhán and Aileen turned on their older brother. “Stay out of it!”
“Ciarán, don’t be so negative,” Breandan said, returning to the lounge room. “Can’t you ever say anything positive about anyone?”
“You stay out of it,” Ciarán warned.
“Why don’t you all be quiet and stop acting like kids?” Bran sipped from his mug. “Honestly. This is almost humorous.”
“Who made you in charge?” Breandan glared at him. “I’m trying to settle this honorably.”
“Yeah, by bossing everyone.”
“So are you!” Ciarán exploded.
“Okay, new rule. Everyone be quiet and I will give each person one minute to speak,” Damhán announced.
“No way! You’re not in charge of us! You’re only seventeen!” Bran snapped.
“Oh yeah, well…”
“Don’t you get started, you’re the youngest. You’re ten.”
“Why do you keep bossing everyone?”
“Yeah, you’re acting like you’re the oldest. You’re only the second to oldest!”
“Oh, be quiet! I’ll have you know that I’m over-”
“Age doesn’t matter in a boxing match. Come on, fight me!”
“Don’t be so dumb.”
“Who are you calling dumb? Is that a challenge? Come at me, bro!”
“Augh! Seriously, why does any of this matter?”
From the living room, Aichear folded his newspaper. The argument grew louder and more heated. If it resorted to fists and teeth, he would go in there and stop it. For now, he decided he’d prefer to stay out of the dogfight and get some more important work done.
Amidst the chaos, arguing and yelling, Aichear pulled out a pen and notebook. He clicked the pen open and wrote down in perfect penmanship- It was so long ago that even they had forgotten what it was like to live as a mortal.
Click here for more>>> PART TWO
Click here for more>>> PART TWO