The Vaticinator

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 gone as 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.