THE CHALDEAN ORACLE

Freeing Ishtar

Chapter 3

“I’M HOME,” I yelled, closing the front door behind me and letting my backpack drop on the floor in a thump.

              The smell of roasted beef cubes cooking in the kitchen immediately assaulted my senses. Mom probably had put them in the over around noon and they would be perfect during dinner time. I was already salivating, imagining the taste of the yellow potatoes and vegetables cooking in the pan in the oven with them.

              “You’re late,” a deep voice echoed from the living room. I rolled my eyes at my brother’s remark, looking up at the clock on the left side of the entry hall.

              School ended at four. It was four twenty nine. Usually I’d get home around four twenty but there was more traffic today because of some accident on the road.

              I yelled that to him and didn’t wait for his answer.

              My brother Kalvin had a gift with noticing details. Like a real gift. It was one of his special skills as an Ishim. Nothing went unnoticed with him. Honestly, it wasn’t always a good thing. The boy could notice every single detail about your face that changed when you lied. He knew if so much as the wind coming from an open door had moved a sheet on his desk by one millimetre. It was useful but freaky and definitely annoying at times.

              I dragged my feet to the kitchen, feeling exhausted, like this day had drained me of all energy. Mom was there, her back facing me, her still very blond hair curling slightly at the bottom which reached her shoulder blades.

              Even though both of my parents were close to their nineties they still looked no older than in their mid-thirties or early forties. That was an Ishim trick. We could stop our aging or slow it down, but there was no turning back from that. If you stopped aging you’d be stuck at that age till you died. This was a simple skill that barely required any Holy Spirit and was often done. To trap Demons it was easier to look young and attractive.

              When mom heard me come in she turned around, her blue eyes fixing on me, smiling. “Hard day at school,” she inquired. I could see she was trying not to laugh.

              Why did my distress seem to amuse her? Pff. Flapping parents.

              “School trip,” I just said, like it explained it all and I went to wash my hand in the sink—germophobic habit I had. 

              Mom was cutting carrots and cucumbers, to put on the table, while I dried my hands and went back to the other side of the counter.

              “So…” she trailed, taking a glass plate from the painted in a oldish white wooden cupboards in front of her, “it’s Friday night, got a hot date?”

              I sighed heavily and picked up a peach on the bowl of fruit by the end of the counter. “Mom…”

              “What’s the name of that boy again…” she added thoughtfully, frowning, putting the plate in front of me with the vegetables on it.

              “JOSEPH,” my brother suddenly screamed. Why did I have to endure this again? “You know, like Marie THE VIRGIN’s husband! Aka I-don’t-get-laid,” he beamed and roared with laugher.

              Flapping idiot.

              “Shut up Kalvin!” I yelled back but then mumbled under my breathe “More like Jacob’s son Joseph… the one that ran the flap away from his boss’ wife who was hitting hard on him.” I sighed sadly and plopped down on one of the stools, putting the peach in front of me.

            Mom took a piece cucumber and popped it in her mouth. “Don’t listen to your brother, sweetie,”

              I ran both of my hands through my hair pulling them away from my face, elbows resting on the counter. “The only hot date I have mom is with my homework! I have to study for all my tests next week.”

              I was failing miserably Greek, struggling in Latin, and I’m not even going to talk about Hebrew. I could get through Sumerian though but that was only because we’ve had that language to learn since I started my education at four years old and I was now nineteen.

              “What’s his family name? That Jospeh boy?”

              I wished she would drop it. I knew I was the only girl in the house aside from her and she couldn’t help play match making but I wasn’t an idiot either. I wasn’t exactly high in the Ishim ranks. I kind of sucked at it actually… And no one wanted to be with someone without skills. They wanted a strong gene pool.

              But mom kept looking at me with eager eyes so, after taking a bite out of my peach I finally gave in. “Falco.”

              “Falco’s good,” she nodded and went to the fridge to get dip for the carrots “usually from the States, you shouldn’t have any relation with him. Now your friend Florence on the other hand… Aidoni probably does have relatives with Falco.”

              “He looks Swedish to me… maybe German. He’s blond… and perfect…” I sighed again, head leaning in my palm. “But we’re probably somehow related with my luck.” I took another bite of peach.

              “Aw don’t say that.” She smiled to try to encourage me I think. “Ivory aren’t from this continent, usually from Asia or Africa.”

              “Do I look like I’m from Asia or Africa? What give it away? My pale face, freckles and RED hair?” I pulled my thick curls up for emphasis.

              “Alright you probably have Irish roots,” she laughed, stroking my hair, “so what, you said Germany or Sweden. Those are not the same countries.”

              “Too close for my taste…” I grumbled, licking my fingers; peaches were a hard fruit to stay all clean while eating.

              “Your bios should come so you can register; it would make this much easier for you,” mom mused, looking at the dinner in the oven.

              Registering is putting your name in the big leather books with the names of all Ishims. We kept linage tracks like that, so we could know if we had any blood relation with certain people. It was like a huge genealogical tree. Every single Ishim who ever lived had their names in there.

              My bios was how we called my unknown biological parents. As far as I was concerned though Madeline and Zachary Ursus were my parents and they were my real family.

              Kalvin and Oren, their biological sons, were my brothers and so was Michio who they adopted, kind of like me, six years ago. He was ten at the time. Both his Ishim parents had been killed, and so had his twin brother, by Demons that had attacked his house in the middle of the night. He was the only one of his family the Malakhims and Ishims had been able to save. At first, when he had arrived in our family he was… well in a catatonic state really. He kept screaming all the time during the night, was shaking during the day and freaking out the second he would see a shadow, he was closed off, you couldn’t even stand too close to him and never talked with anyone but Oren got around his walls. My big brother was just a people person like that, one of his many gifts.

              Oren’s not living with us anymore though. He had stayed in New York when we left for Montreal almost two years ago now. We stayed in New York for three years. There, Oren started to really fight as an Ishim while Kalvin, Michio and I just kept going to school and learning more practical and technical things.

              Prior to New York, we lived in Houston for about four years. It’s in that time that Michio joined us. I loved it there. Oren used to take me, Kalvin and Michio up the ferry to Galveston and we would go eat at the Rain Forrest Café there and after stroll around the shores buying seashells at the souvenirs stores.

              Before that it was Einsiedeln in Switzerland for one year. We stayed there because of the Einsiedeln Abbey. It was required for every Ishim to visit abbeys or churches for a certain period of time since they held great spiritual knowledge. There, my two older brothers learned runes to repel Demons, incantations, herbs and such, basically everything that would make a Demon tick. The only thing I got from there was the zither—I loved playing that instrument. Otherwise, I didn’t attain any cool kicking-Demons-butt tricks. I was only ten and was able to get away from it though that means I’ll have to live in one at one point in the future since I don’t have the required knowledge yet to be an Ishim warrior.    

              From seven to nine years old I stayed with my family few miles away from Luoyang in China, at a Shaolin Temple, not the one people can visit though, no, one that the Ishims in charge hide from humans with their powers and where other Ishims learn to fight. Again, I didn’t learn to fight there, my parents didn’t want me to just yet so I simply kept my schooling lessons with other young kids that stayed on the land while my brothers learned to kick butts.

              Before that it was Dublin in Ireland and before, Alexandria in Egypt and finally my parents adopted me, sort of, if taking in a child that was left at your door steps considered legal adopting procedures, when they lived in Larissa, the capital of Thessaly in Greece. I don’t know if I’m actually Greek or if that makes me Greek but it wasn’t like I could ask questions to my real parents… That was seriously annoying.

              “Mom, I’m starving. When are we eating,” Kalvin asked, walking in the kitchen and sat beside me, punching me on the shoulder, almost making me fall off.

              Mom shook her head, holding her laugh and pushed the vegetables plate to him. “We have to wait for your father. He went to pick up Michio from training.”

              One of the ways my little brother was dealing with his inner demons was by doing his training; he would have loved it when we lived in China. He was gifted with speed and agility and honestly he was like a ninja.

              “But I’m hungry right now” Kalvin whined, and grabbed a handful of cucumbers, shoving them all in his mouth. Pig. “And I’m heading out soon,” he added, or at least I think that’s what he tried to say, it was hard to guess with his mouth full.

              Our mother rolled her blue eyes. “Don’t worry, you’ll have time to eat.”

              Dad and Michio got home a few minutes later so we all gathered around the table for the family meal. It was the cliché Family channel moment but mom was hell bend on it. She said it brought us closer or some crapadoolda like that.

              Mom and dad both sat at the extremities of the table while Kalvin and I sat on the same side and Michio alone on his, if Oren was there he’d sit by him. Food was passed around while our parents tried to make us talk but I really didn’t see the appeal in making us chat about our day with our mouths full. When you eat you don’t speak. Dah.

              Dad was pouring himself more juice when he asked Kalvin, “so who are you working with tonight?”

              Kavlin shrugged, stuffing his face with more potatoes and then added, mouth full obviously, “Sofiel probably.”

              Sofiel was a Malakhim. A girl Malakhim. Though from what I got she was the kind of Angel that followed orders blindly and never asked questions or clarifications so it wasn’t like the fact that she was a woman would make her more prone at leaving with another dude Angel or something.

              There weren’t a lot of female Angels anymore. In the beginning there were equally as many women Angels as there were men. For some unexplained reason, though the number of women went down pretty fast after Satan went into private practice.

              Well it’s not an unexplained reason, it’s quite obvious. Women Ishims were often used as bait for Demons and so a lot more were killed since they were the easy first kill.

             Mom was frowning. “You work a lot with her.”

             And the matchmaking is on again. Mom has issues…

            It was Kalvin’s time to roll his eyes. “Yes and? She saved my ass the other day… that Demons would have pushed me off the damn Jacques-Cartier Bridge.”

              At the same time I said “Big sissy. You would have survived the fall,” mom was saying “I really don’t like you getting in danger like this,” and so of course Kalvin just pushed me off my chair and on the ground while telling mom that she didn’t have to worry and I was glaring at him on the floor.

              Michio peeked his head under the table and chortled. “Need some help down there?”

              I blew the hair falling in front of my eyes and rolled my eyes but didn’t hold my laugh.

              When I sat back though, I was the new questioning spotlight.

              “So how was the field trip Clea,” dad asked.

              I slapped Kalvin on the back of the head for good measure and answered my father in a flat tone, “Long, boring and completely unnecessary.”

              Kalvin flashed a full-of-beef-between-the-teeth grin. “She’s lying.”

              “What?”

              “You’re lying.” He was still grinning. “I don’t know about what but sure thing is you’re hiding something.”

              I hate my brother.

              Everyone had stopped speaking around the table and was looking at me.

              Flapping brother.

              “Well?” Dad was waiting.

              Dad’s job as an Ishim now was as an interrogator, he could get all the answers he wanted out of anyone, Kalvin could tell if you lied right away with the details thing, mom had the doe-eyes that made you spill, Oren had a way with people that just made them open up to him and Michio made you blur things since he never spoke so you needed to fill in the silence.

              There were no secrets in our family.

              “Alright fine whatever,” I huffed in exasperation. “The Fallen Angel they had in a cell was… well a smartass really, but he looked at me funny…”

              Wow, that sounded really convincing and not self centered and stupid. Keep up the good work Clea. Flap.

              Kalvin was laughing, of course. “Like this-redhead-is-definitely-out-of-it funny?”

              “Shut up!”

              Dad talked before we could argue more. “I heard about him.”

              “You did?”

              Why did I feel so interested in knowing more? It wasn’t like I knew the guy or like I would know him.

              “Yes, they wanted me to interrogate him but I have already enough work as it is…”

              Flap. “Did they say anything particular about him?”

              Oh why am I pushing it?

              “Aside from the fact that they found him completely wasted and screaming incoherent things in Greek about never going back but definitely not following them either, no sorry,” he laughed.

              Well that was helpful…

              “Was he attractive?” Oh oh. Mom had that smile.

              Great.

              So while I hit my forehead a couple of times on the table out of discouragement, everyone sitting around roared with laugher.

              Flap.