The Vaticinator Read online

Page 15

combined with apprehension. Like a never ending excitement, something to keep you on edge forever. If the aura was limited to only this, I may have overlooked it. But the other aspect of it has me confounded. Apart from exuding the emotional sentiment in such an intense form, this aura also happens to diffuse power profusely. It’s shocking how strong it is coming off, almost as overwhelming as my father’s. That is saying a lot in my opinion. I am in knowledge of the fact that if your aura exhibits power then it’s nearly impossible to express palpable sentiments in your aura. The power always drowns your emotional part. That is usually the case with therians. But the aura I am feeling at the present is radiating a very strong, powerful aura that exhibits happy enthusiasm. I never thought this should be possible. But here I am, standing right at the turn of a corridor, sensing an aura that is a combination of emotions and power. It is baffling.

  Not to mention insanely attractive.

  I take another second as I realize how much alluring this particular aura feels. Almost molding along with my senses; my aura. A perfect fit. Even without its distinctive feature, this aura feels pleasant in a way I can’t explain. It makes me feel content. It feels quaint to be sensing this, to feel satisfied by the mere presence of this aura. As my thoughts progress, I realize where this is leading. It has only been three days since I have matured. It is my first day in school after maturation. It has only been all of ten-fifteen minutes since I am in school. And I have already sensed my partner.

  With the pull this aura is exhibiting towards me, I am in no doubt that the delightful aura is in possession of my partner.

  I take another second to settle my thoughts over that. I have found my partner. It feels so…surreal. Unrealistic. Aakir was right to say that he can’t explain the feeling, because neither can I. You just know that she is the one. Without even exploring all the auras existing in this world, I know that this is the only aura that will be satiating for me. Ignoring the sudden contentment, I focus on the fact that I have found something that I had never dreamt of finding. I can’t seem to get over the shock that I have found the one, the one with the perfect congeniality towards me.

  This is so cheesy. I cringe.

  “What’s the commotion for?” Aakir mumbles next to me.

  I am partly surprised. I had forgotten that he is standing next to me. He seems oblivious to my mental dilemma. Instead, he is focusing on hearing the sounds coming from the adjoining corridor. The same corridor from where the aura of my partner is exuding. It’s then I notice the voices. Our mature therian abilities allow me to hear distant voices clearly. Not at insanely large distances, but twenty feet at most. The voices in the next corridor are not too far. By the sound of it, an argument is going on. But there are too many muffled voices amongst the two vociferated voices. Aakir motions to make way towards the said corridor. Hesitative, almost dreadful, I follow him. I am not so curious about the voices, as I am for finding the owner of the appealing aura. A flash of all the pretty girls I know passes through my mind, Natalie’s image dominating the most. It’s far too optimistic of me to expect her to be the one exuding such aura, but hey, one can dream, right?

  The thoughts of other girls escape my mind as we enter the corridor. Now the aura of my partner feels much closer, almost tangible, as if I can stretch my hand and touch it. I again marvel over how strong this aura is. It’s nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else.

  The corridor is occupied by herds of students, all forming a circle around the main event going on in the center. The aura beguiles me, persuading me to keep moving towards it. It seems to be coming right from the center, from the ones who have attracted a crowd so early in the morning. I walk forward, gently shoving aside some of the students. Soon, I am next to people standing in the center.

  Ray stands a little off to the edge, his eyes downcast as he simply hears the commotion. In the center there is Francis, trying to pacify an aggravated Duato. He is failing, as I see Duato continuing to sneer at his opposition.

  The overwhelming aura is in fact coming off from the said opposition.

  I look at who is against Duato. Neal stands against Duato, coolly returning a cold stare. A guy I have never seen before stands next to Neal, in support I guess. Behind Neal, his girlfriend, the girl who is always with him, Tanya, stands. Tanya is frowning, clutching the back of Neal’s shirt in a gentle hold. She looks worried, her big doe-like eyes darting frantically from Neal to Duato. I focus on her. Flawless skin, cutely short, with dirty blonde ringlets falling down to her shoulders. She is very cute, as I have said before.

  But she is also not the owner of the attractive aura that I sense. In fact, my partner’s aura seems to be emanating from somewhere right in front of her.

  Like a deer caught in headlights, I move my eyes towards Neal. He stands, proudly, his chin jutting out as he stares down Duato.

  “Give me proof,” Neal starts, still staring at Duato, “that what I have written is wrong. And I’ll definitely make amends.” The so attractive aura reverberates with his each enunciated word. It feels exceptionally pleasant. Does that mean…? The aura I sense to be fit with mine is his aura? What…?

  I take a step back, as if punched in the gut.

  What is happening? Not really sure, I continue to watch the tumult in bafflement.

  “The hell I’ll give you proof!” Duato snarls, stepping up to Neal’s face. “You bloody have no right to write nonsense about me!”

  “Actually,” Neal says in a tired, but loud voice, as if he couldn’t be more bored than he already is, “I do have the right.”

  “I’m going to punch your ‘right’ so hard, Stephens.” Duato says, his eyes bulging as he threatens Neal.

  Even through my astonished state, I feel a twinge of irritation at his threat.

  “I’ll like to see you try, buddy.” Neal says, a little irritation seeping in his demeanor as well, “I’ll shove my next newspaper so far down your throat you’ll be practically inhaling lead.”

  Sudden silence falls after Neal’s threat. It is no surprise that everyone is shocked. Hell, my already shocked stance enhances after watching a crack in his usually casual demeanor. It is probably the first time I am watching Neal get angry at something. He is always been that laid back guy, who doesn’t get affected by the ongoing events around him, no matter how severe they may be. Duato must have really pissed Neal off to extract such a reaction.

  “Bastard…!” Duato says indignantly.

  Before anyone can comprehend, he takes a step forward and socks his drearily stronger (for a human) punch right into Neal’s jaw. A sickening sound develops over flesh connecting flesh. People gasp as Neal’s face snaps sideways with the force, but surprisingly he doesn’t stagger at all. His balance is not even slightly disrupted despite the strength of the punch. Not just the people around, but Neal himself is shocked at the assault as he takes a moment to raise his hand and hold his terse jaw, slightly rubbing it. Neal’s friend, the guy I have never seen before, lets out a cry of astonishment and impulsively pushes against Duato. By now, Francis is out of his stupor and he steps in to prevent the commencing fight. Sadly, Francis is not strong enough. Duato, in his fury, pushes with mighty strength against Neal’s friend. The guy, taken by surprise, stumbles back and falls with a painful impact on the ground, a foot away. The students standing around the area squeal and move out of the way.As everyone’s attention is on the guy who has fallen on the ground, most of them miss it when Neal, as calm as ever, takes a step towards Duato. Everybody turn back towards Neal in time to watch him swing his arm back and punch Duato, right at his nose.

  More gasps follow. But they are gasps of astonishment for a very different reason.

  Duato is only an inch or so shorter than me, but is quite bulky. He is a sports person and someone who likes to work at the gym. In gist, he is not a weak guy, far from it. Neal, on the other hand, is shorter and lankier, and is amongst the crowd who can’t fight to save their lives. Yet, we all watch as Duato unsteadil
y lurches backward, unable to stand the power of the punch unleashed by Neal. More shocked voices follow as Duato completely falls back on his buttocks, his hands covering the nose that has just been punched. Francis fails at supporting him.

  Neal takes another step forward. Outwardly, he looks as calm as he always does but it’s not tough to figure out that he is boiling with rage inside.

  “You want to try more?” Neal asks, looming above Duato.

  I anticipate Duato’s next move. He is a short tempered guy, driven by his impetuousness. As much shocked I may be, I still do not want to see him harming Neal. As soon as Duato gets up, probably intending to butt his head against Neal’s abdomen, I step forward and immediately grab him.

  “Let go!” he shouts, feral. Francis comes to aid, holding Duato’s one arm to prevent him from getting loose. His help is not required, but I don’t point that out. Duato tries to swat my hands away, but it’s pretty useless, especially now that I have matured. He is no match for my strength. I manage to slip between Duato and Neal, pushing against Duato to keep him at bay.

  “Bastard!” Duato says again, looking over my shoulder at Neal. I falter when I see streams of blood flowing down from his crooked nose to his open mouth. Neal’s punch was definitely