The Creators: Chronicles of the Guild

by Beverly Adair

Overview

We Create what we Write . . .

The Future is what is Written . . .

An outcast at school, Sarah’s selection by the mysterious Creators’ Guild, catapults her into an exciting new world. Despite her apprehensions, Sarah has an immediate affinity with Melissa, her Selector. With the slimmest hope that her life will flourish, Sarah leaves her family to pursue her studies and future. Along the way, Sarah makes new friends and discovers the hidden power within herself, her fellow students and the Guild.

Guild School proves more exciting than any of them imagined, but it also has its hidden dangers. Dangers from outside sources that wish to prevent Sarah reaching her full potential or perhaps recruit her to a more sinister path. Sarah’s journey is filled with hope and inspiration for all those who feel different.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781452505398
Publisher:	Balboa Press AU
Publication date:	09/05/2012
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
Pages:	220
File size:	440 KB

Read an Excerpt

the creators

Chronicles of the Guild

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By beverly adair

BALBOA PRESS

Copyright © 2012 Beverly Adair
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4525-0538-1

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Chapter One

I hate school, I hate math, I hate Mrs. Wheeler, and I hate being me, I thought as I sank lower in my chair. What was it that Mrs. Wheeler had just said?

"Now class, pay attention. As you know, today is selection day. Bryn High School has been granted a great honour. Chosen from all the districts for special consideration, we are privileged that they are prepared to come in and assess you, the senior class. Normally, we only get the State Selectors, but for some reason, they have decided to send selectors from Angel City this year," Mrs. Wheeler sneered, her disbelief of their obvious stupidity dripping from every word.

Huh? What Senior Selectors? I wondered. Everyone seemed to be quite excited. I wondered what I had missed while I sat daydreaming again. I knew that no one would answer me if I asked, so I just sat and waited, hoping Mrs. Wheeler would explain a little more.

"Class, be quiet. Get out your workbooks and let's begin. They will be here soon enough. In the meantime, we still have finals to prepare for—so don't think today is a holiday. Sarah, stop looking so confused and find your math book. You know you need to work on this area more than anyone else in this class," she added. The snickers brought a blush to my pale face; there was no hiding it when I was upset or embarrassed.

Leaning forward, I found my math book. I hate math. I wish it was English first up. At least I can write. At least in English the teacher doesn't criticize me all the time ... although I am still singled out. It makes the others dislike me for being good at something, I thought sighing. The math lesson dragged on and on and on. The morning tea bell finally rang, and everyone rushed out of the classroom, chattering away.

"Do you know that my brother was accepted into training for the Special Forces when the Selectors came around last year?" Estebelle boasted, to everyone. "He writes home every month telling us of the wonderful places he's visited. Of course, our family is quite famous in the SF, and I am sure that is where I will be sent."

"I think I have a wonderful chance of being accepted into the Entertainment Guild," Carrie-Lee said in her sultry voice. "Everyone knows they are always looking for talent. My father has some connections in this area, of course, and I have been studying for years to be ready."

I realised with a sinking heart that I really hadn't been paying attention. Today was the day. I had blocked it out. I didn't want to be told what I had to do or what role I should play in society. I wanted a say in what I could do with my life, but it was all up to the Selectors. I hadn't had a chance to prove that I was really good at anything in school. I knew that most people ended up quite happy, that the Selectors were very careful to place people in the correct positions. And it wasn't as though people couldn't shift—it was just that they seldom did.

I knew that I wanted to work with animals, but school didn't give us a chance to practise that sort of work. I had already spent most holidays caring for all the beautiful creatures of our neighbourhood with the local healer. I wondered if she had contacted the Guild and let them know how dedicated I was—maybe that was why they were sending the senior Selectors.

I loved to soothe the animals and listen with my heart and soul to their words ... words only I could hear. I had never told anyone about it. I was sure Mum would say it was my imagination, but I knew differently. I could ease their pain with my thoughts. If I told the Selectors about my skills, maybe they would believe me. And then I could be good at something—not just different, really good. But why would they listen to me? No one listened to me. They wouldn't care.

Chapter Two

The day dragged on with no sign of the Selectors. I kept glancing towards the door until Mrs. Wheeler finally noticed. "Sarah, do you wish to leave my class so much? Kindly pay attention, or you can walk out right now and head to the office!"

Cringing and wondering why it always seemed to be that Mrs. Wheeler singled me out, I looked down at my desk. When I finally looked up again, I noticed six adults entering the classroom. Mrs. Wheeler immediately stood up and welcomed them.

The Selectors had arrived. They all settled themselves in front of the now silent and nervous class, and they indicated that the lesson should continue as normal. As if that's going to happen, I thought. The class was so silent and so well behaved. It felt weird. Everyone put their hand up in an attempt to answer the questions; everyone seemed eager to make a good impression. I knew that it wasn't even worth trying. Mrs. Wheeler never chose me to answer when I put up my hand, and I knew today would be no different. In fact, I realised that I would be even more invisible. So I decided to follow my normal course of action: to quietly observe (even though I knew all of the answers).

After a period of quiet consultation during the lesson, the tallest and most dashingly handsome of all the Selectors stood up. "My name is Harvey Diamond. I represent the Entertainment Guild, and I would like to speak to the following students: Carrie-Lee, Jerald, Kaitlin, Angelina, and James. Would you please all follow me?"

Carrie-Lee was the first out of her seat. She flicked her long hair over her shoulder and strolled down between the rows of desks. Of course she would be chosen. She always had the lead role in any play we performed at school. And with all her training, she really was brilliant. She was also horribly insufferable. The group left the classroom and everyone held their breath, looking anxiously at the five remaining Selectors.

Dressed in a military-style uniform, the next Selector to stand up was a well-muscled woman. Her no-nonsense approach scared me, and I hoped she wouldn't call my name.

"I am Germaine, Special Forces Guild. I want to speak to Estebelle, Edward, John, Susan, and Richard. Follow me. No talking. Move it," she barked. There was an immediate bustle, and the group hurried out of the classroom. Even the usually confident Estebelle looked a little shaken.

This left just fourteen students in the classroom—fourteen nervous and worried students. The next conference between the Selectors seemed to take forever. Finally, a willowy, grey-haired Selector stood and introduced herself in a gentle whisper: "I am Serena, from the Healer's Guild. I wish to interview Joan, Margaret, Mary, Sam, and ..." I held my breath.

Please call my name, I prayed.

"... and I think that will be all." Yes, Melissa, you are right. She would have been perfect as a healer, but she is so much more. I looked up to see who was speaking, but Serena only motioned the group to follow her out of the room.

I sat stunned as another Selector stood up and called out another group. Words such as Artist's Guild and the Developer's Guild filtered through the wall of disappointment that surrounded me. I didn't even notice that I was the last person in the room until a light tap on my shoulder made me jump. I looked up into the greenest eyes I had ever seen—green, serious eyes that appeared to be able to read my thoughts. I looked away quickly from her intense stare and noticed that I was the last student left in the room. Looking back at her, I started to speak. But I shut my mouth as the Selector began.

"Sarah, don't be afraid. You are safe. You were not chosen for the Healing Guild for a reason. You are special and you are different. Until now, this has been your curse, but now it will be your gift. We have been watching you. We have seen your suffering. We left you alone to grow on your own so that, through experiences, you could learn empathy, fear, and compassion. All these things are necessary for what you will become. We have been watching you for some years now, and we all agree that you are the only one of your class who is worthy of selection into the Creators' Guild. In fact, you are the only one who has been selected from this school in over twenty years—long enough for everyone to have forgotten about our Guild."

I sat listening but not really hearing. I had never heard of the Creators' Guild. What were they, and what did they do? Questions followed one after the other so quickly that I felt quite dizzy.

"Sarah, my name is Melissa. You must come with me now. We are going to meet with your parents so we can explain what will happen next. The rest of the class will be returning soon, and you must not be here. As far as they are concerned, you were finally accepted into the Healer's Guild. You will not have contact with them anymore. They will continue to think of you as Sarah the Plain and Sarah the Pain, and they will live their lives believing they were better than you. Sarah, you will soon learn just how wrong they are. Come along, child. I know this is a big shock to you."

"But I want to be a healer. I want to join Serena's group. I love animals, I can hear what they think, and they like me." I realised that I had just given away my biggest secret and shut my mouth quickly.

Melissa just smiled and said, "No, Sarah, you have not given away your secret. I too can hear animals ... and even the thoughts of people if I try really hard. That is why it has been so hard for you; you too can hear people's thoughts. You have often heard their cruel and unthinking thoughts, and that is why you have felt so different and lonely. This undoubtedly felt like a curse; it is, however, one of your greatest gifts. Now come along—all your questions will be answered soon enough."

Mrs. Wheeler did not even notice as I stood up; she was marking papers and seemed oblivious to the sixth Selector's presence. I picked up my bag and school hat, and I followed Melissa out of the door. People milled around the corridors, parting for Melissa (seemingly unaware that she was walking past them). I thought, She is as invisible as I am.

Estebelle surrounded by her group of friends was crowing, "Of course, I knew I would be selected. I have been training for years." She looked up as we passed by. She saw me for a brief moment, and I became distracted as her thoughts were suddenly visible on her face: I wonder what happened to Sarah? And then, as if a fly had landed on her nose, she brushed the idea off and continued chatting away. As I walked by, I was saddened that my best friend hadn't even been able to hold a thought about me longer than a second. I was glad, however, that I had even crossed her mind. I smiled at Estebelle, and for just a microsecond, Estebelle smiled back.

Melissa observed the exchange from under her hood. This one has amazing talent, she thought; Now we just need to get her to the Guild School and safe before anything can happen.

Chapter Three

Heading towards home, I sat silently and began to ask questions to myself: Why should I be in the car with a stranger? Why had no one stopped us as we left school? And why had no one seemed to see Melissa? I was used to walking around unseen, but here was a hooded stranger walking out of the school with a student, and no one even looked at us twice. And what was with the hood? I tried to read Melissa, but I only received a sense of serenity—and then a sharp rebuke: That is rather rude, Sarah.

Shocked, I rushed back into my head. This was the first time that anyone had talked back to me, talked back to me in my head.

The car pulled up outside home. Dad's car was in the driveway. Why was he home? The driver opened the car door for us both. I stepped out, and we walked up the path together. I opened the front door; Mum and Dad were sitting in the lounge, both looking a little worried. Their faces flushed with relief as they looked up. Melissa walked forward and shifted her hood off her head. A mass of red, curly hair fell from its confines. I gasped. Never before in my whole life had I seen such a profusion of red hair. Melissa was shaking hands with my stunned parents and chatting to them as if she were a family friend.

Mum offered tea—she always did; Dad offered a beer—he always did. Melissa accepted the tea and suggested that I make it. I wanted to listen to the conversation, but Mum shushed me away. "Make sure you use the good china, love," she whispered. In the kitchen, I tried to concentrate—to hear what was being said—but a watery wall seemed to surround the conversation (not only the audible conversation, but also the mental one). Melissa's rebuke sang in my head.

With the tea tray all laid out, I hurried back into the lounge. Mum and Dad looked a little shocked; Melissa, however, was smiling and relaxed. Mum looked up and tears filled her eyes. She came over and took the tray from me, placing it on the table before hugging me so hard I couldn't breathe. "Sarah, love, we are so proud of you. This is such an honour. Do you know we have never heard of the Creators' Guild? Melissa assures us that you will be so happy with them. We have always worried about you—you seemed so different. We didn't know what we were going to do with you ... that silly imagination of yours, always dreaming, living in another world."

Dad stood up, and his six-foot warmth held me tight against him, "Sarah, I love you. If you don't want to do this, we will find a way around it. You must decide yourself."

"Do what?!" I yelled. I had no idea what was going on. Since the Selectors had walked into the room, I had been in a dream state—not my usual dream state, disconnected. I had no idea what was happening to me. I looked at Melissa, and she was smiling an understanding smile. But it just frustrated me. "Look, I know you mean well—and you seem to be important—but you need to explain to me what is happening. Why have I been chosen by you, and what have I been chosen for? I have never heard of the Creators' Guild, and it seems that no one else has either. Are you for real, and what do you want with me?"

"It is going to be okay, Sarah. This is a lot to take in, but as I have explained to your Mum and Dad you were born special. Many children are born special, but most of them lose it by the time they reach their late teenage years. They give up their gifts and learn to be 'normal.' Being special and different is difficult. Only the extraordinary few continue to hold onto all their gifts despite the loneliness and unhappiness. You are one of the few. The Creators' Guild is the Guild for those special, gifted people in life that use their imagination every single day, the gifted people who can listen carefully and hear thoughts—thoughts of animals—and with more difficultly, the thoughts of people. You have these gifts, and this is what we teach and nurture in the Creators' Guild."

Mum and Dad sat nodding as Melissa spoke. I could see that this was the explanation they had wanted to hear all their lives, why I had always been different.

"Melissa, if you have been watching me, why have you waited until now? Why not help me sooner? Didn't you know that I was so unhappy, so lonely?" I asked.

"Sarah, we needed to see if you had the strength, or if you would just give up like your friend Estebelle. Do you remember how close you were when you were little? She was not strong enough. She gave up; she chose another path. But you didn't, you couldn't. You will be a great Creator one day. It is now, however, time to say your goodbyes. You need to come with me. We will be leaving today, and it will be many years before you can return. It will be the same as leaving for college, just a few months sooner than you anticipated. Your Mum and Dad will be okay. You will be able to talk to them often, and for them, time will pass differently. They will miss you, but you need to be strong and come with me now. This is the hardest test that you will need to pass, but it is the last one that you will face alone, I promise."

I sat staring at Melissa. Her words rang true, but I didn't want to believe her. Mum and Dad were sitting on the couch, their faces blank, tuned out. They had not heard this conversation; I wondered what they would hear, what they would tell everyone.

"They will tell everyone that you have been accepted into the Healing Guild, just like you always wanted. They will tell people that you chose to leave, to study further. Everyone will be relieved, happy that you found somewhere to belong," she explained.

"How do you do that? How do you know what I am thinking?" I asked.

"It is not difficult when you have been doing this as long as I have. You will learn to do it as well ... with training."

Mum stood up. She held her arms wide, and I ran into them. Tears spilled down my cheeks. I clung to her, and she patted my back, sniffling back her own tears. "Sarah, darling, I am so proud of you. You have always been so good with animals; I know you always wanted to be a Healer. Melissa tells us that you have been selected, but you must leave today. Go, sweetheart, we love you and will write and talk to you soon."

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from the creators by beverly adair Copyright © 2012 by Beverly Adair. Excerpted by permission of BALBOA PRESS. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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