The Vaticinator

by Namita Singh

brushing his and continue to talk of the most irrelevant topics.

  The subjects of our topics are sometimes relevant too. Like now when I am narrating the whole Jermaine-Mikhail issue to Neal upon his inquisition. Unlike to Aakir, I tell every detail to Neal. I don’t know what makes me do so; but I just find it inappropriate to not have him informed of the whole issue. I also explain the origins of the scimitar. Basically everything that Neal has missed post his abduction.

  Neal has been exceptionally astonished to learn of Jermaine’s hatred towards the Lichinskys. He finds it difficult to believe that someone like Jermaine can be as vicious as I am narrating. I don’t know the reason behind Neal’s positivity towards Jermaine, but his likeness towards Jermaine has me on edge as I explain the whole scenario to him.

  Neal sits in utter shocked silence, his face pale and his eyes bulging at the news. In all honesty, I don’t expect him to be this astonished. That naturally makes me question his deer-caught-in-headlights expressions.

  Neal clears his throat at my question, trying to calm his stance, “It’s just shocking to learn that it was your grandfather who killed Jermaine’s family.”

  “He didn’t kill them.” I say warily, “He exiled them.”

  “Which led to their death.” Neal sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, “Do you know that those flames are not normal fire?”

  I hesitatingly nod, “The Nganasans said something about them being ‘dark flames’. Or ‘dark magic’, something like that. I don’t exactly remember. I don’t know the significance or what it actually means. I have never had to deal with anything weirder than Aakir’s freaky eyes till a few days back.”

  “You’re quite ignorant of your world.”

  “Blame my father. I didn’t ask to live in ignorance.”

  “You think your father knows about the flames?”

  I hesitate, “I don’t know.” I honestly say. I frown at him, “How do you know about the flames?”

  “I lived amidst them for two weeks.” He says dryly. “Even the gravity seems to be funny in the core of the flames. Do you know that that place shows an aurora?”

  I look at him, surprised, “I have never seen an aurora. And I think an aurora borealis may be quite frequent this North.”

  Neal shrugs, “I suppose. And I have never seen an aurora too. I didn’t even see this one.”

  I frown at him, “Then how do you know that the night shows an aurora?”

  “The flames.” Neal says, “It was too hot. The light above got reflected as a mirage over the surface of the flames. I asked Jermaine about the weird red-purple lights that shine in the distance, and he told me that the night shines with such colors.”

  “Red and purple? Those are quite rare for a borealis.”

  He nods, “But the way Jermaine explained the lights, it can only be an aurora. I think…earth’s magnetism plays a huge role in that place. As I said, the gravity felt different. It affected the flames too, making them feel much different than normal fire. It-”

  “Different how?” I ask.

  Neal hesitates, “I don’t know how to explain. It held no heat for me. I didn’t feel warm in its vicinity. One would expect the place to be utter warm because of fire, but it was much colder in the core of those flames. Though, I was pretty sure that if I step onto the flames, they’ll cause pyrolysis of my body. Even my therian repelling powers were not enough to overcome it. I required the scimitar to pass through.”

  “I still don’t understand why they are called ‘dark’ flames.”

  Neal shrugs again, “Those flames don’t seem to act as a natural source of energy. Maybe that’s why.”

  “Those erupt from a volcano, for Christ’s sake. What’s not natural about it?”

  “The volcano’s dead. Yeah, the flames originated from there, most probably. But they don’t hold any connection with it anymore.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Neal hesitates, “Jermaine kept me updated about what’s in my surroundings.”

  I am mute at that observation for a moment, then I resume, “So, they are not being sustained by a volcano.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Maybe earth’s geomagnetic fields are causing that effect?”

  Neal shakes his head, “That’ll pretty much make the flames natural, don’t you think? If the magnetic field caused any effect then it was on my bodily functions, if I have any say in it.” He grunts.

  “Why?” I ask, curious.

  He sighs heavily, “Because apparently my body’s physiology stopped working normally. Only my heart was beating, and I could breathe and blink and talk. And yeah, think. I could think.”

  My frown deepens, “I…I don’t understand.” I stutter.

  “It was weird.” Neal muttered. I could see he is reluctant to talk about it. I contemplate suggesting that we don’t talk about it. But Neal begins before I can say anything. I shut up immediately, slightly pleased that he is willing to talk even through his discomfort. “I didn’t feel the urge to sleep…or to eat. I suppose my metabolism had largely declined. I didn’t feel the need to use the toilet or to take a bath. Despite sitting in one place for two weeks, I felt none of my muscles getting stiff. Even my hair wasn’t much dirty when we left.”

  I take a whole minute to take in that news. Neal looks nervous, for whatever reason, as he waits for me to say something. I don’t know what shows on my face, but whatever it is it makes Neal avert his eyes every few seconds or so.

  “T-that’s….creepy.” I manage to get out.

  Neal sighs, confusing me by looking relieved, “Hmm.” He hums, “I suppose.”

  I clear my throat, “The witch was keeping you bound. Maybe she put some ‘magic’ to cause those things too?”

  Neal hums again, “It’s a possibility.”

  “And maybe witch’s power is what brings about the effects on the flames as well.”

  Here Neal disagrees, “The occultist actually required the flames to possess those weird qualities. That was her main source of energy, the main pool from which she derived her energy.”

  My brow crinkles, “No.” I say. “The witch can derive energy for sustenance from anything.”

  Neal rolls his eyes, “From what I could gather, she survived on dark energy from those dark flames.”

  I shake my head, “The books don’t say anything like that.”

  “I know.” He says, sounding exasperated. “And I would have probably agreed with you had I not witnessed the living of the Occultist on my own.”

  “How can you be so certain? I am sure she didn’t ‘eat’ energy like a proper meal in front of you.”

  “Jermaine told me.”

  I feel my left eye twitch at that. I refrain from commenting something snarky. Our days on the ship by far are going smoothly. We may playfully banter, but we haven’t gotten into a serious fight since the ‘kiss’ talk. These few days are turning out to be one of the best days for me since a very long time. I don’t want to break the spell and instigate an argument. But it’s becoming increasingly hard for me to tolerate the compassion Neal is displaying for Jermaine.

  “You don’t like Jermaine.” Neal says quietly.

  My silence and expression must be making Neal declare that verdict. I don’t disagree, letting my disapproval flow by smoothly through his observation.

  “He wanted to kill me and dad. He didn’t give me any reason to like him.” I say.

  Neal runs a hand down his face, “Jermaine was insane.”

  “Exactly.”

  “No, he really was insane. He talked gibberish most of the time. He used to be absolutely terrified mostly.”

  “Well, he aimed at terrifying us. He didn’t seem much terrified himself.”

  “Because he is angry. The thing I heard the most from him was his choler against the leader of his realm, which as you just told me was Mikhail during his time. You cannot imagine how badly he would just break down when talking of his ill-fated family. The other thing he s
poke in harsh whispers was about his fear due to the Occultist.

  “He kept saying that his anger and fear, or any other negative emotion is what fuels the flame. And that is what the Occultist strives upon; and the more she absorbed energy from those fueled flames, the more those flames extracted energy from Jermaine. He did seem screwed in the mind, but his theory didn’t seem too farfetched. He always made sure to never remain near the flames much. He’d remain beside me for very short time and then he’ll just go to remain at the outer periphery, slightly away from the flames. I cannot imagine someone being that terrified without reason.”

  “Are you expecting me to forget that he wanted to kill me and feel sympathetic towards him?” Neal opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off again, “Alright, I do feel bad that he lost his family under such unfortunate circumstances. And I do find Mikhail in the wrong for wrongly convicting him and his family. Mikhail feels utter regret over his decision; and though that doesn’t necessarily get him rid of the guilt’s burden, still I don’t support Jermaine’s idea of revenge. His anger, I understand. His sorrow, I double understand. His urge to blindly take revenge by killing me? Nope, I don’t have the mind to be understanding towards such a thought.”

  “He had once said something about the Occultist encouraging him.”

  “What?” I look at him in shock.

  Neal hesitates at my bearish tone. Gauging my reaction carefully, he continues, “He had mentioned it in passing once…that the occultist thrives on his vengeance, that she expects him to do ‘it’. I hadn’t paid much attention to that thought