Morning broke over the small Nigerian town like a shy smile, tender and hesitant. Rays of sunlight slipped through curtains, danced across wooden floors, and breathed warmth into the quiet streets. It was a peaceful beginning—one that sharply contrasted the storm brewing inside Boog.
He stood in front of the mirror in Jonk's borrowed room, fingers gripping the edges of the table as if it were the only thing anchoring him to the world.
His palm.
His right palm.
It had glowed.
Not flickered.
Not sparked.
Not shimmered from accidental magic.
It had glowed—bright, warm, pulsing, like a living star burning beneath his skin.
Boog swallowed tightly, his breath uneven. "It can't be him… It can't. It's too early."
From the corner of the room, Jonk stretched lazily, hair sticking up like a ruffled bird's nest.
"It can be early," Jonk yawned. "The Ancients never said the timeline was fixed. They said fate is a river, not a cage."
Boog shot him an irritated look. "Why do you talk like an old monk?"
"Why do you panic like a frightened goat?" Jonk fired back, unbothered.
Donk, who had been sitting cross-legged on the floor meditating, finally opened his eyes. "Boog… that human boy you touched—what was his name again?"
Boog's heart stuttered. His throat tightened around the name even though he had only heard it once.
"Chike."
A simple name. Soft. Earthy. With a rhythm that felt like it belonged inside Boog's chest.
Donk hummed. "And the moment you grabbed him to stop his fall, your hand glowed?"
"Yes, but—" Boog's voice cracked.
"But?" Jonk raised a brow.
"But it could've been stress. Or sun reflection. Or—something else."
Jonk stood and walked right up to him. "Boog, you idiot. Your hand has literally never glowed before. And you've touched plenty of humans this week."
Boog turned away sharply. "I can't… I can't accept it yet."
"Why?" Donk asked softly.
Boog's lips trembled. "Because… if he's my destined lover, it means everything changes."
Silence spread across the room—slow, heavy, knowing.
The journey.
The mission.
The promise he made to the Queen Mother.
The duty to return with his lover.
The responsibility that came with meeting a soulmate created from ancient magic.
And worst of all…
Boog had liked the feeling of Chike's fingers tangled with his.
Too much.
Jonk clapped his hands suddenly. "Alright! Enough gloom. Today we follow the glowing hand and meet this boy!"
"No." Boog snapped too quickly. "I— I need time."
"Time for what?" Jonk countered. "To run away from destiny?"
Boog glared, but Jonk didn't flinch.
"We all came for this," Jonk continued. "To find love. To find the one fate carved for us. You got a signal. Be grateful."
Boog wanted to argue, but Donk's calm voice broke through.
"We'll go with you," Donk said. "We won't interfere. But you shouldn't face this alone."
Boog's shoulders slumped with quiet defeat. "…Fine."
He grabbed his cloak—now disguised as a regular hoodie—and stepped outside.
The sun kissed the world gently, but Boog felt nothing gentle inside himself. His stomach twisted. His heart pounded. His magic buzzed under his skin like restless lightning.
It wasn't supposed to be this fast.
He hadn't prepared.
He wasn't ready.
The Walk to Town
The three wizards walked through the bustling streets. Market sellers called out, children laughed, music drifted faintly from a nearby shop, and the scent of roasted plantains danced on the warm air.
Usually Boog loved the Earthly chaos. Today, it only heightened his anxiety.
Every step brought him closer to Chike.
Every breath made his hand feel hotter.
Every heartbeat felt like a countdown.
Suddenly, Donk mumbled, "Boog, your hand is glowing again."
"What?!" Boog yanked his sleeve down instantly.
A soft gold light seeped through the fabric, pulsing like it had a mind of its own.
"Relax," Jonk whispered. "No one will notice."
"No one should notice!" Boog hissed. "If humans see this—"
Jonk shrugged. "They'll say you're doing TikTok VFX."
Boog groaned miserably.
They turned a corner, and the universe decided it had waited long enough.
Chike appeared.
He stepped out of a small shop holding two bags of bread, humming under his breath, completely unaware that destiny was about to collide with him.
Boog froze.
Time didn't slow down—it stopped.
Chike was… breathtaking in the simplest way. Nothing glamorous, nothing dramatic. Just a young man with warm brown skin, soft expressive eyes, slightly messy hair, and a smile that lingered even when he wasn't trying to smile.
A gentle soul.
And Boog felt his chest crumble.
Because he knew.
He knew deep in his bones.
Fate had marked him.
Magic had chosen him.
Heart had accepted him.
Boog whispered, "Oh no…"
Jonk snorted, "Oh YES."
Donk nudged him forward. "Go. He already saw you."
Before Boog could protest, Chike's eyes lifted—and landed directly on him.
Recognition flashed across his face.
Then relief.
Then something softer.
"Oh! You're the guy from yesterday!" Chike said, walking toward him with sincere warmth. "Boog, right? The one who saved me from falling?"
Boog's heart did a dangerous little flip.
"Yes," he managed. "That was me."
Chike chuckled lightly. "I didn't get to thank you properly. My brain was scattering around like cooked beans."
Boog stared, stunned.
Chike talked with a bright, earnest charm that made everything feel lighter. The corners of his mouth lifted like the sun after a long rain.
Jonk whispered to Donk, "He's adorable."
Donk nodded. "And dangerously kind."
Boog cleared his throat, trying to speak like a normal person. "Are you… alright now?"
"Yes!" Chike grinned. "Actually, it was the weirdest thing—I dreamt about you."
Boog nearly choked. "Dreamt—about me?"
Chike laughed nervously. "Not in a weird way! I just… kept seeing your face. And your eyes. And… your hand."
Boog flinched.
"Oh?" he asked too quickly. "My hand?"
Chike nodded slowly. His expression turned thoughtful. "I remember your touch. It felt… warm."
Boog swallowed hard.
Jonk's eyebrows shot up.
Donk crossed his arms knowingly.
"And," Chike continued softly, "I remember seeing a flash of light."
Boog's breath stopped.
"So I guess I should ask…" Chike tilted his head, eyes curious and innocent.
"…What are you?"
The Truth Breaks Open
Boog panicked internally, magic trembling beneath his skin like a trapped storm.
Jonk and Donk tensed behind him.
Chike stepped closer, eyes soft rather than accusing. "You can tell me. I promise I won't run."
Boog's voice was barely a whisper. "You might."
"Try me."
Silence stretched.
Birds chirped in the distance. Someone's radio blasted Afrobeats. A group of kids played football nearby.
The world continued—but Boog felt suspended between destiny and fear.
Finally, he exhaled.
"I'm…"
He closed his eyes.
"…not from here."
Chike blinked. "Like… another country?"
"No," Boog said quietly. "Another realm."
Chike stared—then gave the most unexpected response.
"…Cool."
Boog's jaw dropped. "Cool?!"
Chike shrugged. "Look, life is already stressful. If you tell me you're from another realm, that's still easier to handle than NEPA taking light during exam week."
Jonk burst into laughter.
Donk's lips twitched.
Boog stared like Chike had spoken in ancient dragon language.
Chike stepped even closer, his voice warm. "Boog… whatever you are, I'm not scared."
"But you should be," Boog whispered.
"Why?" Chike asked softly.
"Because touching you made my hand glow."
Chike looked down at Boog's trembling hand. Then, with gentle courage, he took it in his own.
Boog sucked in a breath.
Chike whispered, "Let it glow again."
And the magic obeyed.
A golden flare burst beneath Boog's skin, bright and soft, swirling between their fingers like melted sunlight. Chike gasped softly but didn't pull back.
Instead, he smiled.
A small, breathtaking smile.
"It's beautiful," Chike whispered.
Boog shook—heart, soul, magic, everything inside him trembling like fireworks trapped in glass.
"You're my destined one," Boog said, voice cracking.
Chike's eyes widened. "Destined?"
Boog nodded. "My lover. My soulmate. My fate."
The wind shifted. The world hushed.
Chike's breath caught. His cheeks flushed. His eyes softened into something that felt dangerously close to longing.
"Boog…" he whispered.
"Please don't run," Boog begged.
Chike squeezed his hand. "Why would I run from something that feels so right?"
Boog felt tears sting his eyes.
Behind them, Jonk and Donk exchanged satisfied smiles—two brothers witnessing destiny unfold.
But fate wasn't done.
Not even close.
Because as Chike's warm fingers remained intertwined with Boog's glowing ones, a shadow flickered at the edge of the street.
A dark ripple.
A presence.
A magic signature that didn't belong to Earth.
Donk's eyes snapped toward it instantly.
Jonk's hand drifted to his hidden dagger.
Boog remained unaware—because Chike's touch drowned out everything else.
But destiny had more than love in store.
It had danger.
Conflict.
Ancient forces awakening.
And someone had just arrived who did not want the wizards' destiny to be fulfilled.