The Vaticinator

20. Judgmental Eyes

When Aakir said he’ll need a nap, I didn’t exactly think him to literally go on a sleeping spree. It has been quite a time since he lay down on Mikhail’s bed. Enough time for Mikhail to order all of us to start packing for a leave anyways. I have stood my ground, refusing to give in and agree to leave the Realm. The rest however have left to gather the whole family and collect our belongings. From the talks of my father, he is planning to send the rest of our family away. To where, I didn’t focus to learn. There has been a lot of argumentative discussion regarding the issue of leaving, to which my father has firmly responded to ensure the evacuation of the rest of the family. Terry uncle and Rufina aunt are probably going to lead the family out. Mikhail is furious, seeing as how his son and grandson, the main people he wanted out, are remaining back.

Fiddling with my thumbs as I lean my elbows on my knees, I watch Mikhail pacing around the room. He has indirectly hinted that I will not be left alone at any time. The thought annoys me more than anything else. But looking back at a sleeping Aakir, I am glad that I am not alone. My thoughts don’t seem to be coming down from the edge. Being alone will only fuel them more. Already my mind is filled with different scenarios in which Aakir will be encountering Neal in their astral forms. It makes me imagine them standing right next to me in the room, which may be a possibility. I wouldn’t know of course, because I cannot see them in their astral form; not unless Aakir suddenly decides to flux into an animal. The thought only depresses me more; to know that Neal may be around but I still cannot sense his aura.

“What was Jermaine accused of?” I ask, desperately in need of some sort of distraction.

Mikhail halts his pacing, looking at me, “He had stolen the scimitar.” He simply says.

I chew on that for a moment, contemplating to choose between two questions revolving in my mind. In the end, I choose the less complex question. “He hadn’t stolen it?”

“He had.”

I frown. “Eh…your wrong decision….it was to convict him for this theft?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re saying that he did steal it.”

“Not voluntarily.” Mikhail says and then sighs, “As the leader of our Realm, it was my duty to weigh all the pros and cons and then come to a conclusion. I was relatively young and…catching my friend in the act of theft forced me to naively take immediate action.”

“He was your friend.” I mumble.

Mikhail doesn’t respond.

I sigh, “So…you caught him stealing….that sword. And you…”

“I immediately summoned the Occultist. She didn’t take the scimitar being stolen lightly.”

Time for the second question now, “What’s so special about that sword?”

Mikhail considers me for a moment, then speaks, “It harnesses a witch’s energy.”

I nod, like I understand what he is saying. Mikhail discreetly rolls his eyes. But considering I can see it, he isn’t being very discreet.

“Around thirty generations back, a battle had taken place amongst the Realms of our world. That dates to around 1500s.” Mikhail explains, “It mainly pertained to the authority exhibited by all the Realms. The Occultists….” Mikhail sighs, “They were present when the representatives of the Realms were arguing. Each wanted to exhibit some sort of authority over the other. No one met eyes at the same terms. A battle commenced. Now the battle between therians can be quite gruesome, considering how powerful they are. Not to mention, that the leaders of all the Realms were engaged in fight. Being a leader invariably means more strength and better fighting skills, and hence an even gruesome fight between them. The witches did nothing to prevent it. They only said that the one to bear their energy shall end the fight. They were bluffing from what I could comprehend. They did not have the vaticinator by their side during those times and hence merely provided an anchor for us stupid people to hold on to. And of course we fell for their prediction.