He inscribed the zimbras on the walls and floor of the room. It had taken up a lot of his time. The possibility of creating an Ofó was the gateway to gaining the Spiritual Key of Knowledge. In his clan, the pursuit of innovation was encouraged and highly esteemed.

  The young man heard from the clan leaders that the most important factor in choosing their sage was not strength or any display of power, but intelligence. Without knowing why, the teenager felt he had to dedicate himself to this position. It was more than a personal test of his abilities, it was a chance to take the clan in a new direction.

  What motivated him was a quest for change, one in which knowledge was not limited by tradition. That was his vision of the world.

  When he had finished, he wiped his hands on the walls, fell backwards onto the floor and lay down. He straightened his nose, then put both arms behind his head. He stared at the ceiling as if it could give him an answer.

  “Ah! By Fante Obatiye, what am I doing?”

  Someone knocked on the door. He turned his face towards the door and asked the person to come in.

  The newcomer entered. He was a thin, formal-looking man. He looked like Yerodin, but there was no longer any sparkle in his eyes, his skin was dry and his hair was beginning to grow bald. The man looked around the room and whistled.

  “What are you doing, summoning a demon?”

  Yerodin laughed. His father knew how to be humorous when he wanted to. The man entered with a brown envelope between his fingers. He went to the other side of the room, pulled out the chair that was leaning against the shuttered window and said:

  “You should get out of the house more. Hakim has been looking for you, I don't know what excuses I can give him anymore. He's a very stubborn young man.”

  “Dad, have you ever wanted to do something more, like do something really big?”

  The man let out a sigh and stared at the window. He got up from his chair and opened the shutters. The afternoon sunlight entered the room and illuminated the zimbras in the bedroom. The characters made up of black lines and dots began to glow.

  “I'm not as clever as you.”

  The words came out in a confused timbre of discouragement, resentment and affirmation.

  “No, Dad, I'm serious.”

  “I've never been so serious. There's a reason I held a bureaucratic position in the Knowledge Clan, I wasn't a good medium. But you're not me, you can go much further. Just don't let that 'so far' take you to an unknown place. You might forget how to get back.”

  “Sorry, I don't think I understand…”

  “Forget it, I'm philosophizing too much today. Take this and read it carefully.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  The envelope was placed on the teenager's chest. His father left the room and closed the door.

  Yerodin got up and sat on the edge of the bed. The envelope contained no external information. The young man raised an eyebrow and opened the envelope, not knowing what to expect. His eyes widened. It was a recruitment form from the Ilu Nla Intelligence Service, an area under the responsibility of the Knowledge Clan.

  According to the summons, he had to present himself at a specific time and place, in formal clothes, alone, without carrying weapons and carrying the identification card that came with the document. Everything was to be kept confidential.

  “For Fante Obataiye!”

  Her first reaction was to run towards her father and scream. She reached the door, but stopped herself. The document began to crumble in his hand. All that remained was a gray magnetic card.

  “How secure! I'm glad I memorized the instructions.”

  The boy went back to bed with his legs shaking. At the age of twelve, he had acquired a great deal of respect in the clan, although his positions caused some discomfort in the leadership. They needed to use his skills and limit or control his sense of innovation. They thought it would turn against them at some point.

  Yerodin let out a brief smile. He felt a tickle in his stomach and then rolled over in disbelief. This could well be the greatest opportunity of his life. He even let out a tear of delight.

  The medium knew very well the reason for the call, the advantages and the consequences of accepting the secret service. But there was a chance that he could achieve his greatest goal. He missed Feruzi and Hakim at that moment.

  “Well, you don't miss an opportunity, you take it.”

  ?

  For the first time in his life, Yerodin left home, didn't say where he was going or when he would be back. This worried his parents. The boy thought he had failed in his mission to reach the address of the Intelligence Service without arousing suspicion. He decided to arrive half an hour early to make sure he was on time.

  On the street, he straightened his clothes and walked without hurrying. He kept his usual calm. She avoided the usual streets and the places where her classmates played.

  If Hakim showed up, it would be a big problem… he would interrogate him for a long time.

  Gradually, the young medium's intuition began to alert him to a possible chase. The boy sensed a man following him down two streets. Yerodin stopped to look in a restaurant window to see what the man looked like through his reflection in the glass. The man turned away when he realized the boy had stopped. The medium gave a small smile.

  “You're not discreet at all, my friend.”

  Yerodin entered the restaurant. To the staff's surprise, the young man walked through the hall, past the kitchen. The waiters and cooks began to complain about his intrusion. The chaos was already underway. Yerodin ran to the back doors. He jumped over a wall and ran down an adjacent street.

  He took a mirror from his pocket, and as he ran down an alley, he tried to check the roofs of the houses for pursuers. He wasn't surprised to realize that there were others on his trail. Yerodin started running in the opposite direction from the address.

  They must have intercepted the message, or someone may have leaked information from the agency. They want me to take them there, there must be something special there, they want to confirm the address so they can break in. I'm not taking you there.

  Yerodin headed for the city center. The streets and traffic were busy at the moment. It would be easy to lose so many pursuers. The young man took off his shirt and put it on inside out, then tore the sleeves off his shirt. With the sleeve, he improvised a bandana. He really did look like someone else.

  The young man noticed that his pursuers were bewildered by the city's shopping area. The excess of colors, smells and sounds covered their tracks.

  The teenager arrived at the exact place and time, after losing his pursuers. It was a sparsely populated neighborhood, with empty streets and abandoned houses. The address was a door in an alley full of garbage.

  “Did it have to be in such an ugly place?”

  He knocked on the door, twice quickly, then just once. The door opened and he was captured. Everything went dark, and when he could see again, there was a huge monitoring room. Several agents were viewing the screens and typing up reports. In the images, Yerodin was the protagonist.

  An older man came up to him and untied him from the chair. It was the same man who had chased him in the morning.

  “You were testing me?”

  “And you passed with flying colors, young man.”

  “My God! You'd think you were going to kill me.”

  “No, on the contrary, we want you, and alive. Welcome, my friend, you're silver of the house now.”

  The agents began to applaud. Yerodin felt a bit silly. Reassured, he thanked them. He straightened his wrists and felt his blood flow slow down. It was like a warning that his life would never be the same.