The Vaticinator

22. Colliding The Debarred

My home country, Latvia, is a pretty cold country. Not the ‘I’ll freeze you to death’ cold, but an ‘I’ll be a pleasant cooling sensation’ cold. Especially in Liepāja, which is right next to a sea, the temperature is pretty much on the downside. The summers are also pleasantly cold, the temperature hardly going above twenty five degrees, hell it hardly ever goes beyond twenty, and the wind coming from the sea just adds to the pleasing cooling sensations. All in all, I am pretty accustomed to the cold and even enjoy it to quite an extent. Better than the skimpy, sweaty humidity that is characteristic of summers in some of the unfortunate countries. It oddly makes me respect the low temperatures that we are gifted with.

I never, once in my life, thought that I will come to despise the same coldness. Or maybe that is because my body has not tolerated such insulting temperature for long periods. It’s not that Liepāja has not greeted us with torturous temperatures. Temperatures of up to minus five are common; and on certain occasions I have even faced temperatures of up to minus fifteen degrees. But those are never long lasting; not lasting through the season; hell, not lasting through the day most of the times. So, imagine my predicament at the moment, with my feet tucked inside warm boots, probably made of reindeer wool, my body wrapped in the jacket of the same material, my hands shoved inside woolen gloves and a thick muffler wrapped around my neck. I have never had to wear such heavy winter clothes through my life in Liepāja.

I am so glad that our immune system is enough strong. I will not at all enjoy a red, puffy, blocked nose. The chillness due to the almost minus thirty degrees here is enough to cause me severe discomfort.

“Do you have any idea how far we have to run from here?” Aakir asks, as we pause our running to take a breather. Aakir is looking at ease in plain jacket and soft, cotton gloves.

I do not know why he is even enquiring about how far we have to run in the cold. It’s not like he is actually running, neither the cold is bothering him. In fact, nothing can bother him as of now. Mikhail insisted that Aakir start his journey in his astral form itself, as none of us are sure if we will find an enough safe place for Aakir to take a nap while he goes off onto his rescue mission in his astral form. So, Aakir’s body is still back at the head colony of the Ninth Realm, peacefully resting on my grandmother, Erisna’s bed. The elders gladly took the responsibility of keeping eye on Aakir’s body.

Aakir has been skittish, his multi colored eerie eyes swimming with apprehension, since he left his body behind in the hands of two sixty years old. But at least he cannot feel the disdainful coldness. And the only cost is his body in the hands of two sixty years old people, and a small talon out of his astral arm, tucked away in his glove, away from the sight, so he is seeable and touchable to us.

“I have no idea.” Father grunts out, his breath forming white puffs of smoke in the darkness around. He tugs his jacket closer to himself, not being immune to the cold like Aakir’s astral body. He raises the torch in his hand, shedding light far up on the slope way. The light rays diverge, illuminating vague, indiscernible foot route that leads to the higher side of the inclining slope we are at. I am not even sure we are on the right path. Snow is everything that I see in every direction. Father is relying on the faded foot prints that are left in the snow, hoping to find the next village settlement. The light from the torch fades away at the distance, until I can see nothing but darkness, and slight reflectance of the white snow.

Father grunts, “Come on.” He says, increasing his pace and climbing the snowy slope.

At Dudinka, the last city in the north of Krasnoyarsk Krai, I had been hopeful. The city lies in the Taymyr, though near the southern border. The view of familiar tall buildings and proper roads raised my expectations of what I should expect from my excursion. It was a refreshing change from the constant water and trees, which was all I could see for the last ten days even though our journey in the cruising ship was much, much comfortable than our present state. Even Dudinka city, though a very small and dingy city, had some decent perks to offer. But apparently, that was the last stop of comfort for us.