Found by Rain - Paperback#0.5

Found by Rain - Paperback#0.5

Regular price$9.99
Shipping calculated at checkout.

 I'm Apiya. If I tell you that I'm a human with magic you'll no doubt imagine all kind of badassery - maybe a demon hunter, a vampire assassin, that kind of thing.

Yeah, that's not me. My magic is weird and weak. It's best used for keeping things clean and functioning as they should.

I know, right? Quake in your boots, all ye who look upon me!

That's why I moved halfway across the world to Panong, the heart of Asia's magical society. To try and better understand my magic, hopefully find a way to increase its power, but mostly to find others like me.

I'm in a run down area that's all narrow alleyways and broken neon signs, trying to find a place where apparently magic-wielding humans gather.

Except that I'm pretty sure there's something in the shadows. Something that's taking an interest in me.

Given the strength (or lack thereof) of my magic, I'm not sure this is the best situation for a long and healthy life.

Navigating Panong is going to be...interesting.

 Paperback Edition 95 pages
Product Dimensions 5 x 8 x 0.2 inches (12.7 x 20.3 x 0.5cm)
Language English
Publication Date 30th December 2021
Publisher Celine Jeanjean
Series Razor's Edge Chronicles #0.5

Ebooks are delivered instantly via Bookfunnel email to the email address provided at checkout.

Print books are printed in our facilites in the UK and in the US, this takes 3-5 days after which they are expedited. Shipping times will then depend on your location.

This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.


The question that keeps bouncing around in my mind over and over again as I look around me is: “What the hell am I doing here?”

I'm standing in the middle of a room with walls that are covered with mould. In some places it's not too bad—just little furry black spots. But in other parts the mould has really made itself at home, spreading in green-black patches, until it has completely overtaken whole swaths of wall.

One of the window frames is rotten and cracked, water seeping in through it. Over time, it has created a rather impressive cascade of yellow, orange, and brown patches in the paint as the dampness has spread around the window. Beneath it the paint peels and blisters, and the plaster crumbles at the touch of a finger.

The floor tiles are filthy, many of them broken. And then of course there's the smell. The air is stale and dank, reeking of damp.

And yet, for some reason, I've put down a deposit and paid a month’s rent in advance to secure this place. You're probably thinking that it doesn't sound suitable to store furniture in, let alone to live in, and you're right. I certainly wouldn’t be comfortable for my music records to live here.

In the UK, this house would be in violation of a dizzying number of health and safety regulations. Panong, however, takes a much more relaxed view of these things. By that I mean there are virtually no regulations, and if a person is willing to pay to live in a mould-infested shithole, then they're free to do so.

To put things in context, I once saw three painters sitting on a bamboo platform suspended by ropes halfway down an apartment building. The whole platform was swinging wildly from side to side so that they'd be able to cover the whole wall with their paintbrushes in a few swings. Then they lowered the platform a little, using the system of pulleys the platform was tethered to, before starting to swing again.

I remember this vividly – it was my first visit to Panong with my adoptive parents when I was ten, the first of many trips they took me on to get me as familiar as possible with my country of origin. So you see, a bit of mould and a few broken tiles is nothing compared to swinging bamboo platforms several storeys high.

I look around again at the mould infestation in my new living room. Maybe my Panongian DNA overtook my British upbringing in causing me to ignore health and safety.

“What were you thinking, Apiya?” I mutter to myself.

As a university student about to start my first semester at Panong University, I have about as much money as you'd expect. I definitely can't afford anything swanky, and now that I've paid the first month’s rent and deposit for this place, I definitely can't afford to walk away from it.

I always listen to my intuition, and at the time the urge to get this little house was so strong as to be irresistible. When my intuition is this strong, it means there's something about it that's tweaking my magic.

Oh, yes, I have magic.

Are you expecting some impressive display? Some Mary Poppins type of finger clicking that will magically turn the place into a clean and charming little house?

Yeah, it's best not to have expectations when it comes to magic. Or at least, for my magic, low expectations are best.

There will eventually be a display of my magic, unimpressive as it is, but first I want to look at the one positive thing about the mould paradise I've spent all my money on.

The kitchen opens onto a private courtyard, and I push the door open, the rusty hinges squeaking, the filthy glass blurring the view of the outside.

It's nothing very special, other than the fact that it is my very own little private outdoor oasis. Soil borders where I could have plants. Old flag stones with strips of grass sprouting up between them.

I glance up. Between the surrounding buildings and the high walls, the courtyard will get a decent amount of shade, which should make it a pleasant spot to sit in for the summer, once I buy a few plants. And it’s an escape from the damp. I take a deep breath of fresh, mould-free air, then I head back inside, to the challenge that awaits me. I have a weird obsession with cleaning, so I suppose I could look at the house as my personal Everest. Edmund Hillary climbed Everest because it was there, after all, so maybe I got this place because I’m uniquely suited to rescuing it.

I peer at the worst affected walls, grimacing in disgust at all the tiny black filaments. It's making me feel like I should be wearing a mask—I'm probably breathing in all kinds of spores and who knows what else.

If this was a horror movie, I'd probably die soon and be found with fungi sprouting out of my stomach or something. The thought makes me shudder.

Well, since I intend to be more than a B character in the movie of my life, it's off to the shops for cleaning supplies and disinfectant. That mould is about to meet its maker...

And yes, after that you'll see a display of my magic. Gird your loins…
* * *
By the time I take a break from cleaning, things already look a lot better. The walls all need repainting, but at least the mould is gone and the floor tiles are clean.

I pull off my marigolds with a satisfying snap and push my dust mask up into my pink hair. I sit on the floor, leaning against the wall and glugging down some water.

I've worked up quite a sweat, and my T-shirt seems to think its duty is to become my second skin. I peel it off and throw it aside.

Note to self—Panong in summer is sweltering, and I'd be better off cleaning my new home in my underwear. For all the get-to-know Panong trips we took with my parents, we never came in the summer, and now I know why.

I was born here, but I was adopted as a baby by my British parents, and they brought me back to the UK when I was five. Panong is a little island in Southeast Asia due south of Hong Kong—between Vietnam and the Philippines.

Never heard of it? That's because it's small, with an economy about the size of a sneeze from China. It also has virtually no tourism industry, largely due to the fact that it's a volcanic island with beaches all of black sand. Since it makes a poor backdrop for selfies, people flock to the nearby Philippines instead. In short, there's nothing really of interest for the rest of the world, and as a result it tends to get forgotten or overlooked.

By the Mundanes, that is.

The very things that make it undesirable to humans are what make it extremely desirable to the Mayak, Asia's supernaturals. Panongians are very superstitious and traditional, which on the one hand makes them tricky to deal with in terms of business with the outside world, but it also means there's a lack of modern buildings and general development. A lot of Panong is old and rundown (hello new house!), which is the perfect environment for the Mayak to thrive.

And that's why I'm here. Yes, studying in my native country, getting more intimate with my roots, and improving my Panongian (I'm fluent, but my accent is a wee bit off) are all reasons for me being here. But most importantly, I'm hoping to find others like me. I'm not Mayak—that's why I told you not to get too excited or impressed at the mention of my magic earlier. No magical badassery here.

I'm Touched by magic, rather than made of it. What this means exactly… Well, I'm not really the best person to explain, because I'm not entirely sure, yet.

When my magic began to manifest, my parents and I worked real hard to find others like me back in the UK. And find them we did, but they wanted nothing to do with me, declaring that I was of the Asian territory, and that I needed to go to them.

Story of my life, really. When I'm in England, there's always some idiot asking me where I'm really from because although my accent could rival the Queen’s, my features are Asian. In Panong my accent is wrong so people also want to know where I’m from.

It seems European and Asian supernaturals also like to know about territory and they obviously don't mix well, either. So here I am, hoping to find out more about my magic, the Touched, the Mayak—all of it.

Okay, time to do some magic, as I promised. I close my eyes, spreading one of my hands against the newly cleaned wall. I can't make things move with my mind, but I can connect to the spirit of objects.

Actually, I can only do that when I'm familiar with the object. At the moment, the wall feels just as dead to me as it would probably feel to you. But if I spend enough time connecting with it like this, it will eventually stir awake, and then start to respond to my suggestions.

I can't turn it into anything different—like I can't turn a chair into a car. But I can make that chair more comfortable, and I can make it look like a nicer version of itself. And If I need to fix it, I can make sure the repair happens so well that the chair is good as new. So eventually, once the wall knows me well enough to respond to me, I'll be able to suggest that it keeps the damp out, since that is what the wall was built to do in the first place and what, deep down, it wants to be doing. And then I will eventually be able to connect to the damp, and suggest that it stay outside where things are more wet, since that is also what the damp likes.

All this takes time. So right now, the only display of my magic you'll get is me sitting against the wall with my eyes closed. But if you come back in a couple of months, you'll be amazed by the difference.

Yes, I'd make a fantastic cleaning lady. Not what you expected when I first told you I had magic, is it?

I was a clean freak before my powers manifested, though, so I’ve always wondered if that’s part of the reason my magic works the way it does. If that's the case, it's a real shame it chose that side of my personality and not my love of martial arts, in particular Muay Thai.

Man, I'd love to have super speed or super strength. I'm a good fighter—I've been sparring since I was a kid—but I could be a hell of a lot better if my kicks had magic behind them.

I pull out my phone from the back pocket of my ripped denim shorts and bring up the name and address that constitutes my one and only clue to finding out more about Panong’s magical inhabitants. Dahaga’s.

It's a bar in Old Town, not too far from my house, actually. It has no opening hours on Google, no website, in fact no online presence of any kind other than the fact that there's a blip on the map with its name.

I feel a jolt of excitement, wondering what I'll find there. My whole life I've never quite fully belonged anywhere, and this may be my opportunity to finally find people like me. My tribe.

And who knows, maybe I'll get to see some of the Mayak, those supernatural creatures that until recently I'd only ever heard about in myths and legends.

You may also like

Hi! I'm Celine

I write different flavours of fantasy with a twist, but always with one uniting thread: quirky, flawed characters and heart-warming found families.

My books span the sub-genres of steampunk (but set in a secondary, tropical world) urban fantasy (set in Asia and London) and gothic gaslamp fantasy.

I'm French, grew up in the UK, and for the last few years I've been living a life of nomadic adventure, exploring the world with my laptop as my constant companion. My adventures have been a great source of inspiration for my stories.

These days I'm trying to figure out where in the world I might stop and setup some bookshelves.

I love to hear from readers, so feel free to contact me at

Recently viewed