To Fling a Light

by Wong Yoong Le

  It was almost 4 P.M. when I finished dusting the bedroom and living room. The rest would have to wait.

  While I was cleaning, a few flashes of light had burst out from the Beacon. I kicked my feet around for a while, before finally getting up to grab the mail.

  A glittering envelope had arrived from the Conclave of Wizards. I wasn’t in the mood for brain work, as the Conclave was known for using rather… archaic English, so I threw it onto the sofa and slid my eyes to the next envelope. A missive from the Circle, which sent down an additional responsibility of “safeguarding our reputation and prestige”, was the second piece.

  I put down the note and turned my attention to the last piece of mail. Ornately decorated, it was as visually impressive as the mail from the Conclave. I took a deep breath and opened the letter.

  It was in normal English, which was nice.

  “A good day to you, Mr. Newton. This mail is from the Cultivator’s Alliance, based in Greater China and its overseas territories. We congratulate you on your ascension into the Circle and wish you good fortune on your future endeavors. Our correspondence today is to notify you that the Beacon you’ve set up at your home is out of date by eighteen patches and after today, will be taken offline due to security considerations at 00:00 tomorrow. As such, we have taken the liberty to schedule an appointment between you and a customer service executive at the Beacon Mail Service office tomorrow at 16:30 at Orchard Towers, #18-02. As this is the only free opening for the next three weeks, we would highly advise you to not miss your appointment for convenience’s sake.”

  Cultivators.

  Known as “xiuzhe” in Mandarin, these guys practiced using Qi, much like how wizards used mana. They had qualities very similar to the heroes of Chinese legends—able to fly, manipulate objects from afar, fire off projectiles of mystical energy and eat the northeast wind.

  At any rate, I didn’t really know much about them aside from the obvious, but apparently a whole bunch of them had gathered to create an organization some centuries back, which eventually became the colossus that is the Cultivator’s’ Alliance today.

  My face cramped. I had been back for barely a day, and was immediately met with the equivalent of my network operator suspending my services. I tossed the letter onto the coffee table, stacking it atop the ostentatiously designed mail from the Conclave, before flopping onto the sofa for a good rest.

  Right on cue, the doorbell rang, causing me to nearly lose balance and roll off the sofa.

  For one, the doorbell was abnormally loud, and secondly, I wasn’t expecting any visitors at this time. I was confident that other than my mentor, my return coordinates weren’t made known to anyone else. As such, the odds of someone visiting me today were astronomically low.

  Today was turning out to be a busy day.

  I opened the door and saw a young lady standing outside. I blinked. The chances of the visit being someone of the opposite gender was lower still, and I briefly wondered whether I should buy some lottery tickets. Her sky-blue eyes met mine and I turned my gaze away from hers instinctively, falling onto her black hair instead.

  “Good evening.” My hands moved automatically, smoothing out the creases on my shirt. Her crisp office wear mocked my attempts to look presentable quietly. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, my boss told me that the owner of this residence had returned, so he dispatched me to assist your integration into our country.” She pulled out a file from her hand bag and looked at me expectantly, smiling brilliantly the entire time. “Furthermore, I am to ensure your actions stay within the confines of the law.”

  “So, you’re from the Home Team?” I ventured a guess.

  She nodded and flashed me her identity card. I glanced at it, taking note of the Home Team icon on it, before stepping aside to allow her in.

  Impudently making her way into the living room, she laid out all the papers on a table, a ballpoint pen in hand. In the dimly-lit room, she seemed somewhat ephemeral, as if… she wasn’t human. The existence of the supernatural was common knowledge for those in this line of business. It was a mystery to me if she’d been hired because of her supernatural heritage—or in spite of it. As I opened my mouth to ask, Igor’s words echoed in my mind and I clamped my mouth shut tightly. Diplomacy wasn’t something that couldn’t be trained.

  She cocked an eyebrow at me, complete with a magnificent gesture ordering me to sit down. Her time was precious and I could tell she wouldn’t appreciate me wasting any more of it.

  “Got it,” I said as I grabbed a spare chair and sat on it firmly. “You can begin your interview now.”

  The sun had set by the time all the paperwork completed. This was accompanied by a barrage of questions that were aimed at my understanding of the law, with all the corollaries that came with my new status.

  Apparently, my status as a citizen had been modified during my training stint with

  Igor to one that warranted extra attention. I could vaguely guess some reasons, but the most telling issue was the unprecedented efficiency of the government in finding me.

  “I thought the authorities were rather inefficient,” I said, as the door opened. The cold air caressed my skin gently, while I stifled a yawn.

  The woman looked at me and smiled, her blue eyes staring straight at me. I felt uncomfortable under that piercing gaze, but I wasn’t in a position to protest. For the second time, I refused to meet her gaze and focused on her nose instead. It wasn't that sharp, but there was a slight red tinge to it. Was that what was in style now?

  “When it comes to normal people, they are.” Her lip curled as she plucked a card from her handbag and handed it to me. “But you’re a valuable citizen now. Of course, if you want to elevate your status even more, our country’s special forces are always recruiting; do consider joining us.”

  “I’ll… consider it,” I said while scanning it. There was a number there, but disappointingly enough, it wasn’t her personal number. “Is there anything else?”

  “No. Thank you for your time and cooperation.” She turned and walked off.

  I let out a repressed yawn, feeling a surge of fatigue wash over my body. I hadn’t expected a recruiting call, but life was always full of surprises. My eyes flickered to the old-fashioned clock hanging on the wall. I had a few hours before I met up with Hao Wei at Clarke Quay.

  Should I sleep?

  The Conclave’s letter was still relatively unread and was definitely not replied to yet. Or should I spend the time to stock up on some groceries and other necessities? It didn’t take me long to decide, but my body, on autopilot, shuffled toward the master bedroom and collapsed onto the bouncy, fluffy bed. Sleep hit me like a tuck.

  Before succumbing to shut-eye land, it took me a moment to visualize an alarm clock with five hours left before it rang. Holding on to that image, I murmured a single word, setting an alarm that would wake me up.

  Chapter 3

  A deafening caterwaul broke the peaceful silence of my slumber and I jolted upright. It was a hideous voice— like a cross between the screeching of car tires and the love song of a deranged, tone-deaf banshee. The voice wailed at me from every direction as I stuffed my fingers into my ears and willed for it to stop.

  My ears drums were still ringing as I shambled over to the wardrobe mirror, where I saw a ghoulish face with bloodshot eyes and messy hair staring back, forcing me to choke down a manly scream.

  Another hot shower was in order.

  The short nap was supposed to make me more energetic, not turn me into the poster child for Fright Night. Musing upon that fact, I made up my mind to buy a proper alarm clock as the scalding water hit my head.

  In truth, when I willed for an alarm, I had forgotten to specify the exact type. Granted, given my extensive lack of control, it would have gone awry anyway. Regardless, this just showed that I was still unable to use my powers for normal purposes. Anything I wanted to do with my powers would be unsuitable for everyday life. With this unsavory t
hought, I dried myself off and made for the bedroom.

  My wardrobe was full of clothes brought from the supernatural side of society. They had rather useful functions, like liquid-repelling charms. In actuality, most of the clothes in there were treated with liquid-repelling charms… The charms were simply too convenient to not have. Overly sweetened beverages, curry, and blood are a pain to wash out; but not if one came prepared. It also saved me a ton on laundry costs!

  For the occasion, I decided to go with fashionably-black trousers paired with a red top spackled in black polka dots. It sounded outlandish, but it was the only set of apparel that was probably closest to the ongoing fashion trends of today. The rest of my wardrobe no longer fitted me, or was entirely unsuitable for a meeting with a friend. In my defense, these clothes were the cheapest I could get during a bargain sale; which just goes to show how much emphasis people place on form over function.

  Singapore’s nightlife was bustling and vibrant, but was mostly concentrated in certain hotspots. Other than that, many people would still be scurrying back from work, and even at 10 p.m. or 11 p.m., the trains would still be overly crowded. This was also one of the reasons why I disliked taking public transport, although just about everyone else would agree with me on this. And despite the recent breakdowns, it was still rather reliable in my eyes… one could argue humans were entitled to perfect, unyielding service, but that was idealistic.

  But again, anyone related to the supernatural world wouldn’t have much issue with public transport. After all, Singapore was a key hub in Southeast Asia for the supernatural and even saw the occasional otherworldly interloper. As such, it stood to reason that their mortal collaborators and helpers would acquire some artefacts to assist in mobility. These artefacts were so powerful that any average human in possession of one could match (or exceed) an Olympic sprinter’s top speed for an extended period; which is why the Olympics committee were extremely strict with screening for such devices. Flying artefacts were far rarer, but if you could hide from human perception, you could still use them without fear of reprisal.

  Once in a while, though, it was nice to take public transport.

  That cheerful thought, however, was banished after my face was squashed against the glass window for half an hour. By the time I got off the train, I had gained an intimate understanding of glass, a newly-reignited hatred of the human mob and a nagging suspicion about the true causes of the spate of train breakdowns the country apparently had recently. Indeed, it might have been the anguished pathos of someone like me, crushed against the merciless tide of people. Someone with a lower patience than me might just do something out of spite; something entirely drastic. I rubbed my sore cheeks as I stepped on the escalator and watched idly as buildings and bright lights slowly came into view.

  Although Igor’s demesne was probably not located anywhere on Earth, any visitor could hazard a guess that it was based primarily on some nice, rural countryside that saw a gentle spring and autumn. Singapore, however, was the exact opposite. The extensive levels of light pollution in the Little Red Dot meant that the stars in the night sky were barely visible, but the lights of the human world were quite breath-taking as well.

  Naturally, the heartland of nightlife in Singapore was brightly decorated too. Whether the view was of the opposite bank of the Singapore River, or from a bird’s eye view, it brought a sense of grandeur and that of one’s insignificance in life. I gazed at these sights and took in the nostalgic view for a short while.

  After some time, I made my way to the outdoor bar that Hao Wei told me about. Dressed in a short-sleeved, round necked shirt and short pants, one would have thought of him as your usual Singaporean male, fresh out of the armed forces. He towered over me, although I was on the smaller side for a guy, anyway.

  Upon spotting me, he bent his torso sixty degrees forwards, startling the lone drinkers who were surveying their surroundings with an air of superiority. He does this to everyone he knows, but it always gives the wrong impression to random onlookers. But interacting with him for a while, everyone who knew him got used to it. It was just something so natural to him.

  On the table that he rose from was a large jug, or a tower, filled with some brand of beer, though it was mostly drained at this point. Hao Wei knew my little quirks and didn’t bother saving any beer for me.

  With a little knowing smile, he asked, “Aster, might you be partaking of your favorite kiddy Fizz again?”

  “You know it’s just a carbonated alcohol drink, right?” I kicked him lightly on his leg. “Can’t you go back to speaking in like Singlish or at least normal English? You’re scaring everyone.”

  Indeed, everyone who had heard his words and his accent had glanced at him like he was a nutcase or something along those lines. I put my hands together in mock supplication and asked, “Where are your beloved lehs and lors? You always liked using them, right?”

  He smiled wryly. “My family said that Singlish was too… unrefined. And you’re one to talk! You don't use them either.”

  “You know what happens when my words are infused with a strong will.” My eyes zoomed around his clothes, trying to look for a price tag somewhere. “And I don’t think the senior members of the Circle would appreciate the use of Singlish in writing, even if I’ve never seen one of them before.”

  I raised my hand and a waiter walked over.

  “Lychee sparkling water, please.” The man nodded and walked back to the counter.

  “You’re really drinking that?” asked Hao Wei, who had a look of mock horror on his face. I pondered for a few seconds on the feasibility of socking his mug, before deeming it too much effort. I chose to answer him like a civilized citizen instead.

  “Shut it, you know I can’t drink much. Plus, it’s cheap.”

  The waiter came back with the drink and I sipped it while savoring the tangy sweetness of the lychee. Meanwhile, Hao Wei drained the last of his beer in a single chug and glanced at me provocatively.

  “Heathen.”

  My ears twitched. “Beer-freak.”

  “Wimp.”

  “Beer-belly.”

  Hao Wei flinched and examined his torso. He shuddered again, clearly torn between the desire to order another tower and my ominous words. Eventually, dread won over his desire to drink, and he placed the jug down with a solemn finality.

  It didn’t take long for me to finish my drink while Hao Wei watched. His eyes had narrowed, a hint of dissatisfaction on his face the entire time. It was quite the nostalgic sight, that face of his. During our time in the army, he was a commissioned officer who took his work seriously. When it came to work, one could see… a shadow of steel within his expression, which was intimidating enough that most people who saw it would try to do something or act busy to stave off the heat.

  He was my direct superior in the Army, but he only realized my position in the Circle when our term of service was almost over… not like it mattered anyway. If I hadn’t met him then, I wouldn’t have noticed him at all and even if I did, I had no intentions of bringing in the powers of the Circle to screw around in normal life.

  Overall, he was a swell guy, but you didn’t want to get on his nerves. Those eyes of his could make a ghost flee in terror. Actually, I’m fairly certain that a ghost did run from him during a paranormal encounter last year in a forest, but I didn’t say anything then and I wasn’t going to say anything now.

  It would probably break his heart.

  “So,” I said, casually sipping away at my drink. “What’s the latest news floating around now? Anything interesting?”

  “There’s quite a bit, but you’re definitely hitting some headlines.” Hao Wei looked at me, a hint of apprehension on his face. “Apparently, the Circle’s decided to use you as an alternative to diplomatic niceties, after you supposedly blew up a skyscraper.”

  I kept my face straight. “The Tokyo Skytree burning up was not entirely my fault. Also, since when does the Circle even deign to engage in diplomacy?”
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  Hao Wei met my gaze for a moment with something close to mirth. “Ever since you demolished the Skytree. The Circle’s been promoting you as a bogeyman of sorts, and people are beginning to fear you.”

  I shrugged. “Let them. It’s not like they understand what a practitioner can do.” I emptied the glass and looked at the night sky. “That reminds me, do you have any questions? You’re an associate… understudy-in-training and probably won’t have access to mentors or important studying resources.”

  “Quite a few actually.” He nodded in agreement. “But I’ll leave them for later.”

  I glanced at my phone. It was late, and I had an appointment the next day. Both of us got up and paid, before making our way to the pavements. I opened my mouth and yawned loudly, disregarding some scandalous gazes directed at me. Hao Wei cast a reproachful eye at me, before following suit.

  My body stumbled forwards as someone pushed me from behind, and my trousers were noticeably lighter when I recovered.

  “HEY! STOP, THIEF!”

  I burst into a run, pursuing a man clad in a black shirt and sweatpants. The bugger had bumped into me, before skillfully relieving me of my wallet. I could vaguely feel Hao Wei following close behind.

  My eyes narrowed as I continued to chase after the man. That wallet of mine carried virtually every single asset I had, something I simply couldn’t afford to lose. I continued bolting after the thief and turned a corner just in time to see him flag down a taxi.

  “STOP!” I shouted, a trickle of rage entering my voice unconsciously. “Damn it, STOP!”

  As the words left my mouth, I felt a familiar feeling as my body became a conduit for Natural Law. A typical practitioner manipulated the world around him through altering certain physical or Spiritual Laws, using their body to channel these changes. However, I could do the same, on a far larger scale, by just saying a word infused with my will. It was a crutch I relied on often, and this wasn’t the first time an accident had happened. I just needed to deal with the consequences afterwards… if there were any.