The Yeye's eyes glimmered. "Yes. Though unaware of his lineage, the seal that bound his blood has begun to break. The wolves think him ordinary — but his awakening will change the tides."
A middle-aged witch with silver rings along her fingers leaned forward. "Do we intervene? The boy's power could easily tip the balance between the packs."
The Yeye shook her head slowly. "No. The threads must weave themselves first. We do not move until the pattern reveals its center."
"But if Ronke senses the same thing—" someone began, but the Yeye raised a single hand, silencing the protest.
"Ronke's arrogance blinds her," the Yeye said coldly. "She sees only power she can steal, not the storm she might unleash."
---
The last day of school buzzed with energy. Laughter echoed through the halls of Saint Andrew Heights, where final exams were finally behind them. Desks were pushed aside, lockers slammed for the last time, and the courtyard was alive with students chasing freedom.
Tolu and Ore sat on the edge of a low brick fence overlooking the field, enjoying the breeze. The sound of sneakers squeaking and someone's portable speaker playing Afrobeats mixed into a chaotic, happy rhythm.
Tolu leaned back, watching the clouds drift lazily overhead.
"I wanted to ask you something," he said.
Ore glanced at him, curious. "What?"
"Is it weird that I got my blue eyes this early? I mean… I didn't even know it was happening."
For a moment, Ore froze — the question caught her off guard. She quickly masked her surprise with a calm smile.
"Well… yeah, it's weird," she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But it happens sometimes. Kind of like forcing yourself to evolve early. You knew you'd die if you didn't."
Tolu nodded slowly, understanding. "Makes sense."
Ore smirked, her tone teasing. "Besides, your eyes aren't green yet, so you're still normal like the rest of us. You're not some main character in an Asian webnovel."
Tolu chuckled, the tension melting away. "Would've been nice though."
They both laughed, the sound blending into the hum of students celebrating nearby.
Across the courtyard, two familiar figures approached — Leke with his usual lazy grin, and Amaka, her braids bouncing as she waved.
Leke called out, "What's up, lovebirds?"
Tolu grinned. "We're good. You?"
"Same old," Leke replied, slapping him lightly on the shoulder.
Amaka turned to Ore, her expression more serious. "Can we talk? Just a minute."
Ore nodded. "Sure."
They stepped aside, disappearing behind a cluster of trees.
Tolu watched them go, curiosity flickering. "I wonder what they're talking about."
Leke shrugged, sitting beside him. "Whatever it is, it's none of our business. They were friends before we started dating them, remember?"
Tolu chuckled. "True." He paused for a moment, lowering his voice. "Come to think of it… Amaka's human. She doesn't know she's friends with a—"
He trailed off. Their eyes met, the same unspoken thought hanging in the air.
"I think it's best she doesn't know," Tolu said finally. "If she does, she'll start seeing what she's not supposed to… and get pulled into this messy world."
"Yeah," Leke said quietly. "Best to keep it that way."
A moment later, the girls returned, smiling like nothing had happened. Ore's laughter was bright, Amaka's eyes a little distant but warm. The group fell into easy conversation again — jokes, teasing, talk of plans for the long break.
For that fleeting afternoon, the world felt normal.
No witches.
No packs.
No ancient bloodlines.
Just friends, sunlight, and the illusion that peace could last.
---
A simple calabash, ringed with cowries, sat on a wooden table — filled to the brim with water.
Through its rippling surface, faint images shimmered — Tolu and his friends, laughing and talking under the sun.
A figure stood silently watching.
From behind, a calm, older voice spoke.
"Are you watching him again, Temitope?"
Temitope turned. Standing in the doorway was her mother — the Yeye Agba — dressed in a simple black gown that carried quiet authority.
"I'm just cautious," Temitope said softly, eyes still on the calabash. "Especially after what happened the last time… Mum."
The Yeye Agba smiled gently.
"One — you weren't alive then.
Two — it's not your concern.
And three — you should know better than to judge a book by its cover."
Temitope sighed, saying nothing.
The Yeye Agba stepped closer, her voice almost a whisper.
"What do you see when you look at him? Look well."
Temitope's eyes glowed faintly gold as she gazed into the calabash again.
"I see just a boy… a boy with powers he doesn't understand.
A boy given a legacy — and a battle he never asked for."
The Yeye Agba smiled knowingly.
"And if he wasn't this... what would he become?"
Temitope's eyes softened. "He'd finish school… get a good job. Take care of his mother. Then meet a girl, get married, and have three kids."
A tear slid down her cheek.
"If this hadn't happened, he would have lived a beautiful, happy life."
"Exactly," the Yeye Agba murmured. "We don't choose our lives or destinies. But we can choose our choices. And I'm sure he'll surprise you."
Temitope's voice was faint. "I wish I could peer into his life as a wolf… but only you can see supernatural destinies. Can you tell me what his will be like?"
The Yeye Agba placed a hand on the rim of the calabash, her gaze far away.
"He will face tragedies, heartbreaks… he will break and fall to the lowest depths.
But from his darkness, light shall be born — and it will shine very bright."
Temitope nodded slowly. "At least he has a good ending… if he survives the challenges."
"Yes," the Yeye said softly. "But I'm rooting for him."
As Temitope turned to leave, Yeye Agba moved closer to the calabash.
She brushed her hand lightly over the surface — and the image shifted.
Now the water showed a baby with white eyes, cooing softly in a dimly lit room.
"You're beautiful… and you'll light up the world around you," Yeye Agba whispered.
She smiled faintly. "But I can already tell — you'll be stubborn like your mother. Destiny often is, I await you child."
---