The Crystal and the Flame: Sifters 1

Status: 2nd Draft

The Crystal and the Flame: Sifters 1

Status: 2nd Draft

The Crystal and the Flame: Sifters 1

Book by: graymartin

Details

Genre: Young Adult

No Groups

Content Summary


BORN A COMMON SETTLER, Wil shouldn’t be able to sift, but he can. He sees emotions in bursts of color and hears thoughts as if they were whispered into his ear. This gift has transformed his life,
lifting him from the squalor of a Settler’s camp to the Guardian Academy – an elite school where young Sifters train to use their power. But Wil soon learns he will never be accepted by his High
Founder classmates. No matter what his accomplishments, they’ll always see him as an outsider. A ‘Camp Rat’ with inferior blood, not worthy of the Guardian name.



UNLESS HE CAN PROVE THEM WRONG. Now sixteen and on the verge of graduation, Wil finally has that chance. Somewhere in the frozen Settlement of York, a dangerous mind is on the run. If he can track
them down before his classmates do, he’ll win more than bragging rights. He might finally earn some respect, maybe even a grudging nod from Astrid Blake – the beautiful but frosty daughter of the
most powerful man in Neoden.



THE FOX HUNT IS ON. As Wil chases his quarry through the ruins of York, he still believes what he’s been taught: that a Guardian’s sacred duty is to keep the citizens of Neoden free from evil
thoughts. But when he and his classmates are targeted in a deadly terrorist attack, those beliefs start to crumble. Why would the Settlers he's been sent to protect try to kill him? When a voice
from the past reaches out to him with an answer, he's forced to face a terrifying possibility: maybe powerful evil still exists in the world. And maybe he's been training to serve it.

Content Summary


BORN A COMMON SETTLER, Wil shouldn’t be able to sift, but he can. He sees emotions in bursts of color and hears thoughts as if they were whispered into his ear. This gift has transformed his life,
lifting him from the squalor of a Settler’s camp to the Guardian Academy – an elite school where young Sifters train to use their power. But Wil soon learns he will never be accepted by his High
Founder classmates. No matter what his accomplishments, they’ll always see him as an outsider. A ‘Camp Rat’ with inferior blood, not worthy of the Guardian name.



UNLESS HE CAN PROVE THEM WRONG. Now sixteen and on the verge of graduation, Wil finally has that chance. Somewhere in the frozen Settlement of York, a dangerous mind is on the run. If he can track
them down before his classmates do, he’ll win more than bragging rights. He might finally earn some respect, maybe even a grudging nod from Astrid Blake – the beautiful but frosty daughter of the
most powerful man in Neoden.



THE FOX HUNT IS ON. As Wil chases his quarry through the ruins of York, he still believes what he’s been taught: that a Guardian’s sacred duty is to keep the citizens of Neoden free from evil
thoughts. But when he and his classmates are targeted in a deadly terrorist attack, those beliefs start to crumble. Why would the Settlers he's been sent to protect try to kill him? When a voice
from the past reaches out to him with an answer, he's forced to face a terrifying possibility: maybe powerful evil still exists in the world. And maybe he's been training to serve it.

Author Chapter Note


I wasn't happy with the opening, so here's an alternative that hopefully ties in better to the main plot. This short prologue is designed to set the scene for this Orwellian world of thought
reading, mind control and manipulation.

Chapter Content - ver.2

Submitted: November 25, 2013

Comments: 26

In-Line Reviews: 10

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.2

Submitted: November 25, 2013

Comments: 26

In-Line Reviews: 10

A A A

A A A

You have to login to receive points for reviewing this content.

PART I

 

 

You will hold these Three Pillars to be all that was, is, and ever shall be true:

 

Strength through one shared heart.

Wisdom through one shared mind.

Freedom through one shared purpose.

 

Sacred Vision, Chapter 3, Verse 3

“The Three Pillars”

 

1.

Seeds (Prologue)

 

The image shimmers across the screen, like a reflection on moving water. Hazy sunlight. Ocean waves lapping at a child’s feet. Then a muffled cry, high-pitched and desperate.

“Come on, Liv! Stop hiding! I know you’re here!”

From her place on the observation deck, a young woman watches as the boy’s memory streams before her. He’s running now. Spinning to search the horizon. A whimper as the image blurs through tears.

“Liv! Where are you?”

The woman turns to a technician, who sits facing his glowing console. “Is this the same fragment?”

“Yes, Miss. Same one every time.”

“How many cycles?”

“Ten, and it’s still not fading.”

“Impossible.”

“See for yourself.” The tech mumbles his answer, avoiding eye contact. He’s learned to quiet his mind around Guardians, but this one’s impossible to ignore. Dark hair framing darker eyes. Rose petal lips. Flawless, caramel skin. If she’s reading him, she shows no outward sign. He may as well be invisible. She leans over him to study the control panel, petite frame brushing against his shoulder as she reaches for the monitor.

She points to a flat green tracing on the monitor, lips curving into what could be either a smile or a frown. “There’s no synaptic fade.”

“Correct. The frag’s as strong as it was on the first cycle.”

“Have you seen this before?”

The tech shakes his head. He’s never seen this kind of resistance, not even in a Sifter. After a stretch of silence, the woman walks to the glass partition to inspect the boy. He lies prone and motionless, secured with imaging coils looped around his head. In the pale blue light, he looks like a small animal being devoured by a metallic snake. His body twitches as the image of a girl flashes onto the screen above him. Green eyes blinking through a swirl of copper hair. Then a bubble of laughter.

“You’re watching a memory within a memory,” the tech explains. “He’s waiting for this girl to show but she never does.”

“Who is she?”

“Another Camp Rat. She just failed a screening and our kid over here…” The tech jabs a thumb toward the unconscious boy. “He’s about to find out. Watch closely. It’s about to get interesting.”

The screen darkens, then pulses yellow.

“He’s closing his eyes to find her aura. First color Sifter I’ve ever processed. Rarest type.” He lets out a nervous laugh. “But I don’t need to tell you that. What –?”

He turns to the Guardian, wanting to ask what sense she uses to read emotions, but thinks better of it when he sees her expression. No need for mind reading powers to catch the warning there.

“Um.” He swallows. “Most Sifters pick up auras within a hundred feet or so, but you need to be much closer to sift thoughts, right?”

When she ignores him, he tugs at his collar. “Well, this kid is different.  Strongest Sifter I’ve ever seen. The girl’s half a mile away and he’s still sensing her fear clearly. And you won’t believe what he’s about to do. Here…” – He reaches for the console – “I’ll turn up the audio.”

 

*

 

The Guardian closes her eyes and focuses on the jumble of sounds, ignoring the tech’s babble. Good, she thinks. The boy’s filtering just like I taught him to do, starting with the loudest notes. The wailing of gulls overhead.  The rhythmic ssssh of waves lapping sand.  The whir of wind turbine blades, then the bee-hive buzz of the Camp’s generators. He’s peeling back the layers of noise, isolating and filtering until all that remains is silence.

Now, she thinks, let the softest sounds back in, one note at a time.

Silence, and then… a choked off sob. A girl’s voice, pleading through the darkness: “Don’t let them take me!”

Take you where?” the boy’s mind cries out in response. “Liv! Where are you?”

There’s a new sound: the distant cough and rumble of old combustion engines.

The boy’s limbic feed jumps on the monitor – a red spike of panic marking the exact moment when he realizes…

“The screening! They’re taking her away!”

The monitor flares white as his eyes snap open, body already in motion and sprinting toward the sound. The image jerks past sand dunes. Through a scrub pine forest, then around a fence crowned with rusted blister wire. His bare feet strike shards of gravel, then sun-baked asphalt, but the pain barely registers because now he sees where the buses have assembled.

They’re lined up outside the girls’ dorm: a convoy, ready to deploy.

He surges forward, willing his legs to fly, but it’s too late. The buses still look like toys as the last one pulls away from the curb.

When the screen has faded to darkness, the Guardian turns back to the tech. “This is the only long-term fragment he’s retained?”

“Yes. Everything else wiped cleanly. Have you ever seen anything like that? I mean, he sifted through her thoughts, then reached her telepathically! From half a mile away!”

“You erased everything?” the Guardian demands, ignoring the question. “What about short-term memories?”

“Well, um, he still has those. Short-term frags are stored separately, in the hippocampus and temporal lobe. We only record and wash them right at the end of processing.”

“I know.” She pins him to his chair with one look. “But you’re not going to record them this time. You’re going to play them for me. Right now.”

“Um, that’s…” The tech tugs at his collar. “That’s not standard protocol, Miss. That would be a –”

Before he can say “violation,” the Guardian plucks the word from his mind. She sees her image reflected through his eyes. Watches as her pupils widen to draw him in, like two expanding black holes. Impossible to escape.

Play them for me, she orders without moving her lips. Start with the strongest synaptic pathway.

He keys in the necessary command and the screen blinks back to life. Another memory, this one flashing by in vivid swaths of blue and green. Sky and forest, trees evenly spaced and studded with red fruit. The image pans to the right, coming to rest on a young woman’s face. Dark hair. Darker eyes. Gentle smile.

“But that’s—” The tech jerks his head to the Guardian, eyebrows peaked in confusion. “That’s you.”

No, she answers with her thoughts. This child has no memories.

“This child has no memories,” the tech echoes.

You’ve stripped them all. She waits for him to repeat her words.

And found no anomalies.

“No anomalies.”

Nothing to report.

“Nothing to report.”

He’s fully processed and ready to go.

Once the tech has nodded his assent, she wills him to sleep and guides his limp body to rest on the console.

“You won’t remember me,” she whispers into his ear. “Because I don’t exist.”

The tech will awaken in ten minutes. Plenty of time to erase all record of the boy’s memories. Officially, he’ll be a blank slate, safely processed and ready for training. Ready to start his new life.

Only he won’t be completely empty.

She walks around the glass partition to the unconscious child and takes his hand, squeezing all her hope into him.

 

***


© Copyright 2025 graymartin. All rights reserved.

Write a Regular Review:

Regular reviews are a general comments about the work read. Provide comments on plot, character development, description, etc.

Write Regular Review

Write an In-line Review:

In-line reviews allow you to provide in-context comments to what you have read. You can comment on grammar, word usage, plot, characters, etc.

Write In-Line Review

Submitted Feedback

avatar
avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

Connections with graymartin

graymartin is a member of: