Declan Mungovan

The small dirt road from the olden pier joined a slightly larger road heading toward the Valley of Fictus, where their Sunday yik-yak took place. The walk usually took half an hour at a leisurely pace. “I wonder if it’s this sunny on Faylinn today?” Buck asked. “Come on,” Banyon said, “you don’t really believe in all that?” “I believe Faylinn is real,” Penny added defiantly. Truthfully Penny wasn’t at all convinced about the existence of Faylinn, but she saw an opportunity to wind up Banyon. “You’re right Penny,” Banyon said, “an island of fairies, all flying around the place doing magic. That seems really likely.” “It’s mentioned in a few of my book,” Buck added. “See, it’s mentioned in his books,” Penny said, “several of them.” “All leprechauns know fairies don’t exist,” Banyon said, “next you’ll tell me you believe in Tir na nÓg.” “I definitely believe in Tir na nÓg,” Penny said as though not believing in it was an insult to her personally, “an island where nobody grows old, who wouldn’t want to live there?” “You, for one,” Banyon replied, “And it’s not going to work Penny, so don’t even bother trying”. “You’ve never seen anything unusual… Read More »Chapter 4

The king of PJ Freeman, Thornbow Silverline, was a stern man of strong convictions. His opinion on a leprechauns place in society was rock-solid. Unsurprisingly, he vocally disapproved of his daughter’s friendship with Buck. “A Snagglepot, of all leprechauns,” he said to Penny as she made her way to the front door of their cottage. The Silverline living area was twice the size of the Snagglepot’s. The hearth of their fire was noticeably larger and their pots and pans were clearly newer. Thornbow’s greatest fear was that Buck and Penny’s relationship would evolve into something more than just friendship. He had tried to put a stop to it in the past but had failed miserably at every attempt. “It’s my life Dad, I can choose my own friends,” she replied while opening their wooden front door. There was a spark of resolve in her blue eyes that Thoenbow may have valued had she not been born a girl. Penny had always insisted on doing things her way, she even refused to wear a dress like the other respectable young girls in Glen of the Fine Dwellings. “Girls don’t wear pants Penny,” he pleaded with her. “This one does obviously,” she… Read More »Chapter 3

After quickly descending ten flights of stairs Buck felt relieved to remove his bowler hat and tie. It was the first thing he did as he walked out the large arched front entrance of PJ Freeman’s. It was the highlight of his day. He crossed the courtyard of the bank and sat on a grass covered wall beneath a drooping willow tree. This was his usual spot as he waited for his father to appear. Looking at the ten story hulking mass of PJ Freeman’s in front of him always filled Buck with both a respect for the labour required to construct the building, but also a disdain for the labour that took place inside it. Their father and son routine was to walk home together to their cottage two miles away. Buck Senior had a habit of working past his contractually obligated hours. Buck nodded to some of the other leprechauns who were making their way home from the bank in groups. Branna Greenwhistle passed by completely oblivious of his surroundings as he scanned the yellow parchment he had been working on earlier. He was known to take his work home with him from time to time, and this… Read More »Chapter 2

War was the last thing that the Leprechaun inhabitants of Innis Freeish were thinking of, they hadn’t even thought to invent a word for that particular pastime. Its inhabitants went about their business blissfully ignorant of any great threat that might be brewing their way. One such leprechaun was sixteen year old Buck Snagglepot. He worked at the third largest bank on Innis Freeish. Floor number ten to be precise. Desk number twenty-two to be even more precise. His summer intern position as junior account processor was far from his idea. It was a job whose title exactly describes its function: processing accounts, during the summer, and as a junior intern. The surface of his small wooden desk was strewn with stacks of yellow parchment and various ledgers. Rows of similar desks and busy leprechauns spread out across floor ten in all directions. The rustling of paper and inking of quills was amplified by the stoniness of the building. The entire bank was constructed with stone bricks. The rows of stoic arches that rose high above Buck’s head portrayed both a sense of grand magnificence along with a sluggish weightiness. Long narrow windows on two of the walls created a… Read More »Chapter 1

The Chief Admiral had promoted himself to the top job earlier that morning, and was still unsure of what his new responsibilities involved. He had considered the title of admiral but decided that adding the word chief made the whole affair sound far more official.  His second in command approached him and handed over the golden trumpet of Rigol. “Chief Admiral, the fleet is ready sir, your orders?” This is where things could get tricky. The Chief Admiral had discovered that one of the drawbacks of promoting yourself to the leader of a large army was that lots of important decisions had to be made. He wasn’t known as a decisive man. It wasn’t that he cracked under pressure. The fact of the matter was that the Chief Admiral had a vague understanding of the limits of his own intellect. He was well aware that at any moment one stupid decision could be the difference between epic glory and catastrophic failure. “Assemble the men,” he declared after clearing his throat. He wasn’t exactly sure why the men needed to be assembled, but it sounded like the kind of thing someone in his position would say. “Aye sir. An inspirational speech… Read More »Prologue