The Vaticinator

by Namita Singh

customers are youngsters or females. Aakir doesn’t mind the job because of the latter. Since its Friday,it’s the day of our work and so we all get to work while continuing to enjoy our own family time. It definitely gets awkward for me sometimes when only females keep entering the shop. Not to be a male chauvinist, but I do feel like working in a lingerie section sometimes. Again, Aakir doesn’t mind. And considering the amount of pocket money we get in return for our job, I make myself not mind either.

  It’s a shame sometimes, how monotonous, though nice, our lives are. Being a very different individual than humans, one would expect us to be fighting wars every day. But, no. My mother is every bit a normal housewife, working a homely shop with her sister, Aunt Rufina. Going to school and working at weekends is what constitutes our lives. Every bit similar to a normal teenager human’s life.

  It’s sad, how the last thought makes me happier than anything in the world.

  2.The Maturation Blues

  I may detest my animalistic nature, but it’s hard to disregard the enlivening sensation, the thrill, that is brought upon by adapting to our nature.

  Transformation to an animal form brings along with it the augmented adeptness natural to that particular animal. The animal can be extinct or a complete sprout of our imagination, provided we focus lucidly on what we expect of the animal we adapt to. That includes better senses, better flight instincts, better strength and better reflexes, everything just better. The heightened abilities boost our zeal. The rush of adrenaline, the anxiousness prior to our performance and the adroitness in our praxis of movements are welcoming distractions from our daily routine.

  But getting up at seven on a Saturday morning is stretching it a little too far for my liking.

  “Josh,” My father begins as he folds the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow, “Terry is busy working and I am going to practice with Aakir first. So, you wait and pay attention, alright?”

  The obedient son that I am, I nod at him and settle down on the porch, yawning profusely. My mother comes, waltzing and smiling, her bright lip shade stacked on even at this ungodly hour. She places a sloppy kiss to the side of my temple and sits beside me, leaning back and stretching her legs. As if she is settled in for a nice sun bathing on a beach.

  Well, we do live right next to a beach. But the sun is not too high in the sky as of yet.

  Aakir smirks at me as he comes and settles down on my other side. Instead of simply leaning back like my mother, he completely lies down on the porch and closes his eyes. And he is off to sleep.

  I sigh.

  Aakir may not like his uniqueness, but I am unbelievably jealous of his distinguishing specialty.

  Unlike the normal physical therians like us, Aakir is a spiritual therian. His physical form doesn’t possess the ability to metamorphose. But his astral body, his soul, is capable of that. Astral projection comes naturally to Aakir, unlike for some people who spend their whole lives meditating in order to perfect their astral travelling. His astral body remains invisible to a person until and unless he changes himself, or a part of himself, into an animal.

  I watch, mesmerized, my sleepiness all but goneas Aakir’s astral form materializes out of thin air in front of my father. He has taken the form of a half standing wildebeest look-a-like, as he always does. He says he feels the most strength in this form. He stands at an impressive height of seven feet, the dark skin of the animal stretching over the taut muscles of his arms and abdomen. His forelimbs extend into nimble-fingered claws and the nails of his paw like feet scrape against the green alfalfa grass of our pasture. He is a threatening sight, alright. It’s a good thing our house is surrounded by woods on every side. Anybody peeking into our yard is going to be a very bad choice.

  Father remains in his human form and walks to the pile of woods in our yard. I’m entranced by how spontaneously agile my father is even in his human form. He manages to be as strong and as fast as a human as we are as animals. I watch as my father picks up a log and throws at a prepared Aakir with lightning speed. It is neither easy to make a throw that fast and strong, nor to block such a throw.Yet, I see as my father continues to unleash log after log of wood at Aakir, who deflects each, breaking some in the event, with equal agility and strength. If anybody in this house can be a match for my father, it’d be Aakir.

  This exercise is merely meant for our reflexes and impulsivity. The quicker you are, the better you’re getting. This is something I am good at. I manage to be as swift as Aakir in such activities. It is during sparring that I lag behind. Not long after, my father starts to remove his clothes and wills his shoulders and arms to flux into something similar to that of Aakir’s animal form. His skin becomes mellow, giving off the appearance of something melting, and reforms into stronger muscles and a darker skin. A process called ‘Fluxing’ as is taught to me. Painless, yet very displeasing to watch as it is practically dissolving and reforming of our skin.

  They begin to offense and defense at a coruscated speed, leaving me awed. As my father’s face is fairly human right now, he shouts instructions in between, pointing a few points here and there, without stopping their headfast speed at which they fend off moves. At one point, my father gets hold of Aakir’s arms and swings them back in a very painful position. My grimace coincides with the howl let out by Aakir’s wildebeest. My father doesn’t waste time and brings Aakir further down with another painful kick in the abdomen. With frightening speed he is at Aakir’s neck, his jaw melting as his maxillae and mandibles form a baleful sneer exposing sharpened canines ready to dig in first into Aakir’s exposed neck.

  The whole ordeal takes less than five seconds.

  Without sinking the dangerous looking teeth into Aakir’s neck, my father gets up, letting go of Aakir. His jaw reforms back to his human face and he monotonously starts explaining to Aakir where he had gone wrong to let him get empowered.

  I exhale the breath I hadn’t realize I was holding. I look beside me at Aakir’s sleeping human body. He looks peaceful enough, as if his astral body is having the day of its life.

  Too soon, it’s my turn. I’ll spare the details, to in turn spare myself the humiliation, and just hint enough to know that I wasn’t as good as Aakir against my father. That should be understandable because I am not even mature yet. Though I drearily doubt that I’ll be as good as Aakir once I have matured. Being as good as my father is a distant dream.

  Sometimes I wonder why my fighting abilities are inferior to that of my father and Aakir. Okay, I am not that bad. After Aakir and father, I might be the next best fighter. But I was hoping to have taken after my father in these abilities. Maybe I am not good enough because my mother is a human. If that is the scenario then I ponder again why she was chosen as my father’s partner. Even their personalities differ vividly. Where my mother is always joyous, smiling without a reason, my father lives with sobriety. My mother is brilliant at expressing her emotions, even without voicing her thoughts. My father on the other hand usually remains stoic. The fact that he is not a talker doesn’t help much either.

  The differences do not stop there.

  My mother is the typical blonde. Curly golden locks, fair skin, blue eyes. My father is the dark haired, dark eyed, mysterious looking man. It’s sometimes funny to watch them standing next to each other. My father looms at an impressive six feet, five inches, almost swallowing whole of my mother’s five feet, five inches.

  As much as I fawn over my blonde hair and blue eyes, I am quite gratified to have received my father’s height and built.

  The therian customs, especially for the ones who find their partners, works in bizarre ways; my parents being an imposing example.

  “That was impressive.” Says Rahul to me, as I put on my clothes back after practicing with my father.

  Rahul is Faith’s partner. Both are studying medicine at RīgaStradiņš University in Riga, which is around two hours away from Liepāja. Faith had encountered Rahul two years back when she had enrolled there. As is usually th
ecase, by sensing Rahul’s aura Faith immediately realized that he is her partner. Rahul is a pure human like my mother. But since he is a partner to a therian now, he was informed of our nature. He has been exceptionally well adapting. Rahul and Faith are now a constant in the family on weekends. And seeing as how he, Faith’s partner, is complimenting me at the present, I’d say the ‘partner’ thing can be quite brilliant in certain instances.

  “Thanks.” I grin in return.

  After a hearty breakfast, mother and Rufina aunt prepare to leave for the shop, dragging Aakir and myself along. The day is usual, a little more crowded than normal, but usual nonetheless. At lunch, I return home while Aakir volunteers to remain at the shop. I end up sharing the dining table with my father, Terry uncle and Gwen aunt. I am partially surprised to see Gwen aunt out of her room. She usually restricts herself to minimum interaction with anyone in the house. She is the first one to finish up her meal and retire to her room, as expected.

  “Doesn’t she get bored in her room all the time?” I blurt out like an idiot to the other two men.

  Father just gives me a stolid glance while Terry uncle smiles tiredly.

  “She is the most comfortable there.” Terry uncle says, shrugging. “Would you like to be thrown out of