Ficum trudged up the riverbank to the Water Fairy’s house, his young face glowing with health and exercise. He was returning from his long hike in the woods, and his eyes sparkled with excitement and happiness. When he was halfway up the bank, he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to have cleaned his bedroom, and that his mother would probably have discovered the mess by now.

There is a secret garden, where fairies and Pegasus dwell, Withen the depths of a forest
somewhere in a faraway land
Where youth is never fading, and troubles are never invading
Where the sky is forever blue, and tears will never fall
Where is this mystical place you ask?
Somewhere in a strange and far off land perhaps?
Do not bother looking in the wood

Chapter Two

Note: I changed it from the book a lot, and they realized that the water turned matter into gold too soon. If you see any other mistakes, form typos to plot points, don't be afraid to criticize!

Note: I changed it from the book a lot, and they realized that the water turned matter into gold too soon. If you see any other mistakes, form typos to plot points, don't be afraid to criticize!

(This story might not be suitable for Children under ten.)

“Get Out!” snarled Raghib, throwing his cup at Qudir.
“Yes, my Lord,” said Qudir, dodging it by an inch, then he turned and walked to the door, opened it and closed it gently behind him.
“Rashad! Where is he? Rashad!!”
“Yes, my Father?” said a man, poking his dark head through the door.

The fairy city of Myriada (named because of the myriad of fairies that lived and passed through there) was situated on a magnificent mountain; actually, the whole mountain was but part of the city. The Fairy Queen’s palace was on the mountain, and from there the city wound down and landed at the mountain’s foot, where it spread out for three miles round.

The evening was grey and misty. Melenyáriel the naien trotted swiftly through the trees, her thick, tortoiseshell fur fluffed against the cold. This was the coldest winter she had yet seen. Light snow was falling, collecting in a thin layer on the mossy ground and melting in minute drops on her fur.

(This story might not be suitable for Children under ten.)

“Where am I?” said Bibi, waking from a deep sleep.
“Thou art in Shamara’s Castle,” said a servant named Atherton, who had a brown bushy beard and strong brow. “Thou hast had a bad beating.”

Chapter One