Flashes Of Light

Past - Percie

I'd never met Michaim Toutatis before, but when he went to my house to ask me if I wanted to be a Diplomat, I thought he was asking me to work in the politics.

I was glad to say yes. My mother was grateful that someone of that importance had found his time to notice me. My father felt as if a blessing had been bestowed on our family.

You see, it's easy to be skeptic now, but we didn't know the whole thing back then. My parents were believers, and they thought Toutatis coming into my life was going to be a miracle. Back then a young man could only achieve so much if he came from my neighbourhood.

To tell like it is, my folks were a bit disappointed to hear that it was a secret mission led by Sveta. They always thought she was bad news.

However, when I heard Sveta's name, I couldn't help but accept! I hadn't seen her for ten years.

Michaim Toutatis had invited me to our first meeting in an abandoned Tesco. I had gone to a hairdresser and bought a new suit, hoping to make a nice impression on both my boss and the girl I fancied.

Yes. I had a crush on Sveta. During the ten years she was gone, I didn't do as much as to look at another girl. Not because I was under the impression she owed me anything, maybe she didn't even like me, but because every time I tried to look at another girl, it didn't work. I closed my eyes at night and I saw her electric blue eyes, curly brown hair and tanned skin.

When I arrived at the reunion, Sveta was the only one waiting for me. It's sappy to say, but she hadn't changed at all. Of course, she was a grown woman, but her mischievious smile was exactly the same.

"Hi," I said, my heart skipping a beat. "I'm Percie."

"I know," she grinned. "I'm the one who told The Anti you would have made a fine Diplomat!"

Another guy would have been mad that the girl he liked had made him join a terroristic cult, but I had no idea of what we would become back then.

When The Anti entered the room with his yellow two-piece suit and his black hair gelled back, he had someone else with him.

"Sight of the World," he said. "Meet our Visionary," he said, gesturing to a scrawny kid several inches shorter than him.

"Well," Sveta joked. "Isn't he a vision?"

I know in the past years Logar has made it sound as if he was the only one with wits in the group, but we were all very witty, Sveta especially. I like to think it was one of the only things the six of us had in common.

The Visionary looked straight at her and didn't reply. He looked pissed off.

"Like a fallen angel that brandishes the firey sword and brings havoc to Heaven," The Anti said.

But he didn't look like a fallen angel. More like someone who had fallen down a flight of stairs.

His yellow-ish strawberry blond hair managed to look mousy with his sickly pallid complexion. He had acne scars near his temples, and he was several inches shorter than the rest of us, even shorter than Sveta. He had dark blue eyes the same color as the background in Van Gogh's Starry Night, but they didn't do much to diminish the shabby air of his appearance. He was dusty, if not downright dirty.

He was wearing a black tank top, black baggy pants and in his scrawny, white arms he was holding a black umbrella. The sight of him was almost ridiculous.

"Tell them what it is you can do," The Anti encouraged him.

The guy's mouth curved into a little smile. He tugged a little on his black umbrella. "I twist and shout."