The Secret of Ember Island

Lina Malik was only 14 when she had devoured all the adventure novels in her grandfather's old bookroom. She grew up in a sleepy seaside town, but her imagination was filled with jungles, pirate vessels, and lost cities. But dreams do not usually come true until stormy summer.

It started when her grandfather, a legendary archaeologist in his day, died and left her a sealed envelope. In it was an ancient, smudged map covered in mysterious symbols, a letter written in yellowed ink, and a single sentence:

"The truth sleeps beneath Ember Island."

Lina's heart pounded. Ember Island was forbidden a small island two miles out, ringed with jagged rocks and legends. Fishermen said it was haunted. But Lina didn't believe in ghosts. She believed in secrets.

The following morning, she loaded a backpack: compass, flashlight, rope, notebook, and a walkie talkie. She said she was going to the library, but actually took out a small kayak and paddled out before sunrise.

The sea was smooth initially, but when she approached the rocky edge of Ember Island, clouds were massed and waves pounded stronger. It seemed that the island didn't want to be discovered. Lina forged ahead.

When she finally walked on the beach, she sensed something odd. The air was heavy, the quiet oppressive. Trees loomed up like walls of green, gnarled and old. She walked by the map's markings beyond a forked tree, across three rocks, and into a cave behind a waterfall.

Within the cave, paintings blanketed the walls symbols such as those found on the map. However, they shifted. They emanated light. Lina caressed one and the ground shook. A concealed stone door creaked open, disclosing steps that went deep into the earth.

She turned on her flashlight and went down.

At the bottom was a room full of artifacts coins, carvings, and scrolls. But in the middle stood a stone pedestal, and on it, a book wrapped in dragon hide leather. She opened it. Her grandfather's name was written on the first page.

It wasn't treasure. It was a journal a log of his journeys, things he never told anyone, and a warning:

"If you're reading this, you've found what the world lost. Take care of it. Knowledge is true treasure but it's been earned, not taken."

Lina continued to read, but she suddenly heard a noise behind her.

Footsteps.

She wasn't alone.

A man stepped from the shadows a tall stranger in black, with a scar on his neck and eyes like steel. “You’re the old man’s granddaughter,” he said. “And now, you’ve led me right to it.”

He lunged for the journal.

Lina ran.

She had known the course of the cave, and so did not the stranger. She took him through narrow tunnels and blind alleys, doubled back, and tugged a concealed lever in the wall. The stone door thudded shut behind her, confining him inside.

Breathing hard, wet with sweat and seawater, she ran back to her kayak and paddled off as lightning flashed over the island.

She arrived on the beach at dusk, holding the journal as if it were a lifeline.

That night, she explained everything to her mother. To her surprise, her mother didn't yell at her. Instead, she opened a drawer and produced a key. "Your grandfather left you more than a map," she said quietly. "He left you a legacy."

In the months that followed, Lina started deciphering the journal. It contained secrets to other secret places on the planet places lost to history and greed. She knew her journey had only started.

Moral:

Courage opens doors that fear keeps locked. And the true treasure? It's not gold but the journey, the discovery, and the truth you find along the way.