Chapter 2

The Golden Brook twisted and turned. Feeling worried, she slowed down. She would be all right. Quietly, Evelyn looked deep into the clear brook, that shimmered in the sunlight. It gushed to the west, in the direction that her Pa had died. She sighed, contently, knowing that this was the place her Pa had loved, and the place he visited most. She strained her ears to hear the familiar voice of her Ma blessing him, but there was none. Within the depths of the brook, the water was a clear gold, that turned a phoenix red in the sunset and sun rise. It was as beautiful as the sun. The fish seemed peaceful, gliding forwards, then jumping up, almost flying, then going back down again. Breathing out a small sigh of tranquillity, she stepped, daringly close to the river.
”C’mon. We’d better go now, or we’ll never get out again.”

Evelyn and Robert walked slowly up the brook, on and on, until their feet were covered with blisters. Arconcia fluttered cheerily behind.
”The sun’ll be going down soon.” Robert said helpfully.
Evelyne snapped back, ”We are NOT going back until we find the harp.”
Glancing at the brook, she noticed something strange. The fish’s patterns had changed. They seemed to be going around a large lump of wood, that was decaying, but Evelyn’s sharp eyes spotted a glint of gold. The harp. Yelling at the top of her lungs she said: ”Here! HERE!” Scrambling over a few rocks, and falling on the springy grass more than twice, she reached the brook. She staggered into the water, which was oddly warm near the wood. Without caring about keeping clean nails, she dug at the wood, throwing it carelessly out of the brook. It revealed a small, gleaming harp.

Evelyn passed it to Robert. Interested, he examined it closely, observing every single detail.
”Ahah!” exclaimed Robert. He took out two, transparent screws, delicately.
”Careful,” gasped Evelyne, ”It’s delicate!” The harp split in half, making no noise on the light green grass. Evelyne fought the urge to run and strangle Robert; she knew he knew what to do, and wouldn’t break it deliberately. Encased inside was a single, glowing string, as long as the harp, but as delicate as a butterflies wings. A note lay beside it bearing only the words: Your heart will beat forever.
”No wonder your mother had enemies. This means that this string, this innocent string, can keep you alive for ever!”

”Indeed. Why don’t you pass it to me? It may be – dangerous.” Hissed a smooth voice from behind them. Evelyne and Robert whipped around, and gasped. A silhouetted figure leaned carelessly on a nearby tree, and Evelyne could see a smug look among his ugly features. Recognising something distinctive about the way he moved, something in her brain clicked. Lord Goldfly. Her own, dear, great uncle was being the villain. Lord Goldfly passed his hand through his pale blonde hair, and smiled, unkindly. Arconia fluttered excitedly, spectating the view in front of her.
”I’ve been…. waiting for you. To lead me to the treasure of my life. Thank you.” He finished harshly. He snatched the string from Evelyne’s hands, as rapidly as a gust of strong wind. He cackled, his head turned to the sky, all his teeth showing. Darting around, Evelyn looked for an exit. It was too late.

Only minutes later, the children had been encaged in a dull, gloomy room, with a thin **** as a window. It was like a real prison, but worse. The door was bolted and locked, as strong as an ox, and there was no stones that revealed a passage.
”He-he betrayed my PA!” Evelyne stamped her feet hard on the cold floor.
”Did you know that stone is made from granite, marble, travertine, limestone, and slate?” Said Robert, saying the dreaded did you knows.
”No.” Snapped back Evelyne. ”We are going to get out of hear, rescue Ma, and get that string back.”
”Good luck with that.” Murmured Robert. Evelyn gave him a look that made him shrivel, immediately making him regret even speaking.
”We are going to find our way out!” Retorted Evelyn. As Robert brushed the dust off his his fingers, he could only fell one emotion: Despair.

Prologue

Arconia gazed out of the glimmering airship, called Pythonia, as the other gold airship hovered closer, and closer. She glimpsed the ship’s harpoons, glinting in the blazing sun, like deadly spears ready to kill. She heard the dreading click of the cannons aiming, like the last beat of a heart. She sensed the toxic gas as the fire took hold, as sharp and precise as a pencil. Facing her master, she chirruped ”By all the clogs Elene, it is really time for you to jump! Humans before mechanimals!”

Chapter 1
Peering closely at the lock of the science door, Evelyn selected a hairpin from her tangled hair. Her tutor droned on, unaware of the lack of attention. Every time she turned her back, Evelyn leaned sideways, unpicking the familiar lock, steadily. Her hairpin broke, and she fumbled with her hair again, retrieving another. It was a slow job. At last it clicked, just as her tutor went to get her a new book. A few seconds later, she was sprinting as fast as her legs could carry her, towards Elite Meadow, pausing only once for breath. Her eyes were streaming, her heart throbbing, but she kept on going. At last, she lay on the dry grass, letting her heart slow.

When she had recovered from her escape, she sat up, flattening some nearby reeds, then sat cross legged. She breathed the calm smell of fancy flowers, listening to the buzz of tranquil bashful bees. She watched a solitary cloud float above her head, and her shoulders relaxed. She was free, away from those silly tutors. Finally, cautiously, she pulled out a battered, and slightly torn envelope. Carefully, she cradled it in her hands, her breath quickening again. With trembling fingers, she opened it.

‘Under golden fish, the strings in your heart will strum…’ Evelyn thought, staring at the mysterious letter. She sighed. ”Arconia would be able to work this out in less then two seconds.” She muttered to herself. At that moment, she heard the distinctive, high pitched song.
”Arconia!” She yelled.
”No need to make my ears bleed!” She sang, flapping her wings, chirruping happily.
”I need your help,” Evelyn said, touching down the mood a little. Arconia didn’t need to say anything, she had saw the letter, and the words.
”Oh. You’ve received it.”
Evelyn nodded. ”From your friend. But what does-”
”The harp. Under the golden river, were you used to live.”
Evelyn found the clockwork key under Arconia’s blue and red feathers, and almost immediately, she was in a flap. The energy in the once-calm-meadow was now full of excitement, and realisation.

That evening, Evelyn met Robert near the road she was born. The golden river was in sight, glimmering, even without the lack of sun.
”Your fathers harp.” Robert said quietly, looking down at his shoes.
”Yes.” Responded Evelyn. She rolled the sadness off her shoulders, and off her back. ”Yes.” She said, a little more defiantly.
The harp was a gold, with intricately carved patterns of hieroglyphics and doodles. Evelyn’s father used to say that every string represented a different stage in life. She liked to think that it was. Many nights, she had dreamed of the music, the slight pang of the string being pulled, the gentle noise of her fathers singing. It was the only time she ever cried.
”Sorry.” Said Robert.

”Right.” Said Arconia. ”No time to lose. Absolutely no time to lose. We need to get that harp from the river, before those greasy vermins get those slimy paws on that harp!
Otherwise: It will be lost for ever;
Your mother will not get whatever she wants;
A moments silence followed, and they ran, as fast as they could, to the river.

Interested in beautiful and exotic creatures? The fire wing butterfly is a rare bird, found in the south of England. These unique creatures are one of the animals that we unconsciously rely on, as, without the fire butterfly, our volatile stars would not have been above us, including the sun. Hardly ever do we see these magnificent butterflies, even though they glow as bright as a firebird. These butterflies are strangely reptiles, but spend most of their time on land, flying above the sea. Do you want to glimpse this creature? You should know more about it. Read the rest of the leaflet! Appearance. The fire wing butterfly’s torso is spherical, and velvety like a soft cushion. This part of the body is usually not noticeable, as it is outshined by it’s gorgeous, fiery wings. The wings are an orangey, reddish colour that glows, flashes, and shimmers. Contrary to the popular belief, these wings are actually shaped like a large pinecone that has been put in a log basket and not used, making the wings look old. These delicate, wonderous features cannot be ignored, however it is not really the wings that are glowing. Interestingly, it is not the wings that are the source of light, it is their antennae that reflects on the wings. These are clearly exotic creatures! Habitats. These wonderful butterflies obviously, like hot temperatures. First located in Hawaii (A chain of volcanoes) these butterflies spread over the North pacific ocean, then over the south, joining in Europe. Most commonly, we see the fire wing butterfly’s nest on top of the tallest trees in summer, and in winter, nestled flat near a chimney’s warmth. However, animal controls are starting to capture these amazing creatures! Appalled though we are, we will forgive you if you realise your mistake and help protect these creatures. Diet. It may come as a surprise to you, but fire wing butterflies are extremely fussy picky eaters! They get their food from sunflowers, that has been alive for precisely 120 days. In winter, they eat tree sap, any tree sap, and by the time a new year has started they do it all over again! You may think that their appetite seems restricted, but fire wing butterflies have a magic tongue that makes every bite taste different. Really, you have to learn more. Behaviour. Fire wing butterflies come out at the 12th strike, and go back to their nests/chimneys at the traditional lunchtime. In fact, that is when they eat their dinner! While they are out, they make small stars, that grow brighter when they die. Fire wing butterflies live up to two years! Please help look after these fire wing butterflies!tHR

Book Island – In threatning condition!

The most celebrated island is being threatened by people from Planet Bellin! Their people are coming in our precious land, and littering, eating and stealing. Books are crumbling, and words are vanishing from our brains. Will you help before it is to late?

The Books – the devastating sight.

A few weeks ago, we got our first report of the important Bible that fell of the highly nutritious tree that held it.​​ Alarmingly, it crumbled into dust on a letter. We do not know which letter, as it has disappeared from our minds. For example, how many letters of the alphabet are there? Reports say 25. Is that correct? No. As you can see, this is not just a coincidence. If we carry on like this, the alphebet will disappear. Our children will lose concentration with no entertainment​, and our world will be in a mess. We cannot allow that.

Our brain without words.

Over the past few weeks, whole words have been covered. Dictionaries and thesauruses are emptying, and communication is beginning to leave our mouths. Furthermore, a camera caught a video of a Bellin person stealing the nutrition. It explain why the books were falling in the first place. Crowds are proposing that the people of planet Bellin should have a life sentence in prison. Vote now at VoteBellin.com.uk.

Ink crisis.​

As we all know, Book island has pools of ink. We take only a fraction of ink for one hundred pens. Unfortunately, Planet Bellin’s people have come to Planet Earth to steal it, a whole litre each time. Pens are fading out of existence, as there is no ink in them. Help protect our valuable ink!

It is deplorable that you can throw this away, when this is happening under your nose!​ Come help now, and save the world. Remember, you can make a difference.

I met a girl called Anxiety,
Her eyes were round and alert,
and her nails were chewed raw.
Her legs carried her away when needed,
seeking safety.

I met a boy called Sun,
His face glowed with pride,
his eyes blazed with passion.
He stood a giant among everyone in the universe,
on fire.

I met a woman called Sky,
her hair was silky, pale and blue.
Her eyes were sapphire, so bright that when everyone looked up,
she was seen.
She brought her hands to touch the frail white that drifted upon the wind.

I met a man called Grass,
His hair was green and spikey,
It blew in the wind.
As he spoke, he turned his head up for water.

I met a child called Wind,
Her hair never came to a rest,
She chose between beautiful breezes, and fierce storms,
and she never fell down to the floor.

I met a Soldier called Time,
Death rewinding in his head,
He closed his eyes to erase the memories,
and woke up home in bed.

They were all different people.