The tall figure who entered seemed to draw all light toward him, his suit so black it appeared to swallow the morning sun. Mrs. Anane's welcoming smile faltered.

  "Excuse me, sir, this is a private ceremony. You'll need to—"

  "Yaw Boakye," the stranger's voice resonated with an otherworldly timbre. "Step forward."

  Mrs. Anane moved to intercept him. "Sir, I must insist—" But something in the stranger's presence made her steps falter.

  "I've been watching you, Yaw," the stranger continued, ignoring her. "Your determination. Your struggles. The nights spent studying by candlelight while others slept in comfort."

  Kwame snorted. "Are we supposed to feel sorry for him?"

  "Quiet," the stranger commanded, and Kwame's mouth snapped shut as if sealed. The stranger reached into his suit and withdrew what appeared to be a crystalline device, its surface etched with symbols that seemed to shift and dance in the light.

  "What is that thing?" Gloria whispered to her seatmate. "It looks ancient."

  "Probably worthless," Kwame managed to say, though his voice shook slightly. "While other schools give out tablets and laptops, poor Yaw gets a piece of junk."

  The stranger's dark eyes fixed on Kwame. "Value isn't always visible to those blinded by gold, young man."

  He turned back to Yaw, holding out the device. "This belongs to you now. A reward for your perseverance."

  Yaw's fingers trembled as they closed around the device. It felt cool to the touch, yet somehow alive with energy.

  "Sir," he began, "I don't understand—"

  "You will," the stranger cut in. "When the time comes, you'll understand everything."

  Mrs. Anane found her voice again. "This is highly irregular. All gifts must be approved by the school board. I'll need to contact your parents, Yaw."

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  "My guardian," Yaw corrected quietly. "Miss Fiona."

  "Ah yes, Miss Fiona." The stranger smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "A remarkable woman. She already knows."

  This caught Yaw's attention. "You've spoken to Miss Fiona?"

  "Let's just say she understands more than you realize." The stranger turned to leave, then paused. "One more thing, Yaw. Seek out Mr. Akrobeto when the time comes. He'll guide you."

  "Mr. Akrobeto?" Amara whispered from her seat. "The businessman from Adum?"

  "The one who lives in that creepy old house?" Gloria added.

  Kwame had regained some of his courage. "My father says Akrobeto is a fraud. Nobody knows where his money comes from."

  The stranger's laugh sent chills down everyone's spine. "Your father, young Kwame, knows very little about true power." He moved toward the door with unnatural grace. "Remember, Yaw. When it happens, don't hesitate. Accept what comes."

  "When what happens?" Yaw called after him, but the stranger was gone, leaving only a lingering scent of something ancient and otherworldly.

  The classroom erupted into chaos.

  "Did you see how he knew about Miss Fiona?" "That device looks cursed!" "Maybe it's worth something..."

  Mrs. Anane clapped her hands. "Enough! Back to the ceremony. Yaw, please take your seat."

  But as Yaw walked back, clutching the device, he noticed something odd. The symbols on its surface had started to pulse faintly, like a heartbeat.

  "Let me see it," Kwame demanded during break time, reaching for the device.

  Yaw pulled back instinctively. "I don't think—"

  "Come on," Kwame insisted. "It's just some worthless antique, what are you afraid of?"

  "Leave him alone," Amara stepped between them. "You're just jealous because for once, you didn't get the best prize."

  Kwame's face reddened. "Jealous? Of that piece of junk? Please. My father's company—"

  "We know," several students groaned in unison. "Your father's company is the biggest in Kumasi."

  "Just wait," Kwame snarled, backing away. "You'll see what happens to people who embarrass the Adinkra family."

  After school, Yaw carefully wrapped the device in his spare shirt and placed it in his worn backpack. He had deliveries to make—no mysterious gift could change that reality. Not yet, anyway.

  "Want me to walk with you?" Amara offered. "Those rich kids might try something."

  Yaw shook his head. "I'll be fine. Besides, you have your piano lessons."

  "Be careful, okay?" She hesitated, then added, "That stranger... something about him felt odd. Like he wasn't quite..."

  "Human?" Yaw finished. Their eyes met in understanding.

  "Just promise you'll call if anything weird happens."

  "I promise," he said, not knowing that in a few hours, everything would change.

  As he left the school grounds, he heard Kwame on his phone: "Father, you won't believe what happened today. We need to do something about this scholarship trash..."

  The device in Yaw's bag pulsed once, as if in response to the threat. He quickened his steps, heading toward the busy streets of Kumasi, where his evening job awaited.

  If only he knew what else awaited him that night...