A young boy walked out of a school dressed in a blue bzer, white shirt, bck pants, and bck dress shoes. His bck skin glistened under the shining sun, dispying his youthful vigor. He heard many people talking to him and moved his head, showing his well-trimmed hair on the front, side, and back.

  "Goodbye, Christian."

  "See you tomorrow."

  Christian waved at these people with a smile before arriving at his destination. He entered a beige Mercedes-Benz 190E, sitting in the back.

  "Aunty," he saluted as he kissed the driver on the cheek. She was a retively plump woman dressed in a blue suit and skirt, a gold bracelet on her right hand, a bck gold watch, long, straight hair, and small diamond earrings that gave her a sense of authority.

  "How was school?" asked Eleanor with a smile.

  "As usual — boring and uneventful," replied Christian, pcing his bag away and putting on his seat belt.

  "That's expected, especially since school has just started." Eleanor moved her eyes from the back, focusing on the steering wheel. "Have you eaten? We still have some time."

  "I'm not hungry."

  "Okay," she began to drive, and the two conversed during the ride. A few minutes ter, Eleanor suddenly snapped her fingers. "Where is my mind? Your schedule has changed, and I'm going the wrong way." She looked around the ne to find a turn before changing the route.

  "Why didn't you remind me?" She then remembered something and shook her head. "I don't understand why your mother insists on packing your schedule to the brim every year. Last year, you started fencing lessons, and now she wants you to learn Capoeira. Not to mention your archery lessons on Thursday and Saturday. All of these on top of your other after-school courses."

  "Well, it's not that bad. With Capoeira, archery is only two days a week."

  "Do you even like these activities?"

  Christian paused, "Fencing is fine, but I don't much care for the others."

  "Then, you should tell her that."

  "I did, but she said I only need to continue until next year, then I can choose how I want my schedule."

  "Next year, you'll be 11, right?"

  "Right," replied Christian, who sensed a difference in his aunt's words. "Is there something?"

  "No, nothing," replied Eleanor calmly. "Instead of putting all this pressure on you, she should spend more time at home instead of gallivanting God knows where."

  "I'm sure…she has her reason."

  Eleanor snorted coldly and did not talk much, making the rest of the journey too quiet and slightly awkward. They arrived at their destination a few minutes ter, and she walked out of the car.

  "I'll be busy with a case this afternoon, so my assistant will drive you to Capoeira lessons and drive you home. He might take you out to eat since its the butler's day off."

  "Who are you suing this time?" asked Christian after nodding.

  "No one, just dealing with the paperwork for some douchebag who has inherited a lot of money and thinks he's better than everybody else," she said calmly as she rearranged his clothes and tie, making Christian momentarily speechless.

  "You don't sound happy."

  "Well, the job has its ups and downs, mostly downs. Don't mind me," said Eleanor. "Oh, before I forget, don't forget your drink." She ran back to the car and gave him a package. Christian's eyes lit up after seeing the bottles inside. After fencing, he's usually exhausted and has no energy for capoeira, but after this drink, he's always full and re-energized.

  Christian kissed his aunt before entering the building, changing, and proceeding with the lesson. It has been a year since he started learning fencing, and like most things he tried, he was advancing rapidly. However, despite the praises of the coaches and his fellow fencers, he cared very little about this sport, so each practice was a chore for him.

  He was happy once the whole thing finished as he could talk with a few friends. Sadly, he did not have much time as he had another destination.

  "Hello, Robert," saluted Christian, gazing at the tall, white, and stern-looking man with thick gsses before him.

  "Christian! How was your day?"

  "As good as it could get."

  "Is that so? In that case, let's go."

  The entire drive was silent, but Christian did not mind. Robert was such a person, and he was used to it. Capoeira was as dull as fencing but even more painful since he often had to roll on the floor to learn different evading methods. The rhythm aspect of this martial art was exciting, but not enough to retain his attention.

  After practice, Robert—who waited for the entire process—took him to a restaurant for dinner since his aunt was busy at the firm. It was almost 7 p.m. when he arrived home, and Christian knew he had a little time before his next lesson. He took a shower and headed to his study room on the second floor, next to his bedroom.

  He had an original copy of Dante's Inferno in Italian next to a stack of paper. Christian would read a page before transting it into Yoruba. He had done this as a pastime since he was four, and it calmed him down.

  At seven o'clock sharp, a middle-aged man in attire that screamed "professor" walked into the rge mansion with a one-handed bag strapped over his right shoulder.

  "Professor Hallmark, always a pleasure to meet you."

  "The pleasure is mine."

  Christian led him to his study, where he served tea. After a brief chit-chat, Hallmark asked: "I assume your homework is done?"

  "Of course." Christian handed him more than five papers full of writing, and the professor did not waste time as he immediately began to read. Once in a while, he would mark something on the paper, and Christian had to concentrate and not look. After more than ten minutes, Professor Hallmark sighed out loud, "It always amazes me how much progress you have made in only two weeks."

  Christian saw a look of awe, respect, and envy from the tter, but he only smiled politely. "I heard from Professor Henry that you were a prodigy, but I did not believe it. Now, I have to admit I was wrong. By the way, how many nguages do you know?"

  "How many? If you're talking about modern nguages, there are English, French, Haitian Creole, Spanish, German, Portuguese, Swahili, Hausa, and Yoruba. As for dead nguages, I've only learned Latin and Ancient Greek, and I'm still learning Old and Middle English from you."

  "Amazing," praised Hallmark. He knew that if parents took the time and effort and had the resources, even ordinary children could learn up to 5 nguages by the time they reached ten years old. In the early development of their brain, it's a lot easier for children to learn nguages. That's why so many wealthy children's families will take this opportunity to ensure their children are bi- or multilingual.

  However, it was a grand feat for Christian to learn so many, let alone learn dead nguages as well.

  "It seems you're very talented in linguistics."

  "Just slightly," uttered Christian in a low voice. Languages have always been easy for him, sometimes too easy. When transting things or seeing unknown words, their definition or meaning would often flow into his mind as if he were a native speaker. He never told anyone of this, not even his mother.

  "Just slight?" Hallmark shook his head. "Have you been tested by societies like Mensa? You might be gifted."

  "My aunt brought the idea, but my mother refused. She said titles like gifted, genius, and high IQ might do me more harm than good."

  "She might have a point. It's not uncommon for child prodigies to crash under the weight of their gifts," nodded Professor Hallmark, who decided to change the subject. "Do you pn to learn more nguages?"

  "Probably." He loved nguages, so it was one of the few things he did not compin about that his mother encouraged him to partake in.

  "Oh, do you have something in mind?"

  "If I choose a modern nguage, it will be Mandarin or Arabic. If I choose another dead nguage, it will be between Sanskrit and Ancient Egyptian."

  "I recommend learning modern and ancient Egyptian at the same time."

  "That's an idea worth contempting."

  "If you do, I know an excellent professor," suggested Professor Hallmark before starting his lesson. He thought Christian methodically while secretly sighing. When he first learned of this request for a private tutor, he only accepted it because of the rge sum and with the expectation that his visit would be short.

  Many young children found old or dead nguages boring, and he needed to teach a child Old English before proceeding to Middle English. Then, Professor Henry convinced and told him he might not teach there for long because of how fast and easily the child absorbed knowledge.

  He was genuinely shocked on the first day of the job.

  'All nguages have commonality, so it's easier for multilinguals to learn new nguages. However, even with this fact, Christian's improvement is outrageous,' thought Professor Hallmark as he walked out of the room.

  After the lesson, Aunt Eleanor was back, so Christian had supper with her before walking upstairs. He walked into the music room that contained a piano and a violin. According to his usual schedule, he chose the piano to practice tonight; this sted for thirty minutes until 10:30 PM.

  He took another shower, brushed his teeth, and cared for his hygiene before Aunt Eleanor tucked him into bed. Christian watched her leave before holding the chain around his neck, attached to a strange gray stone. He caressed it for a few seconds before looking at the rge portrait in the room.

  It was him, his mother, and his aunt all together. He once felt odd why his mother gave him a painting of them instead of a framed picture, but now he was used to it; he would look at her face before sleeping. The painting was vivid; sometimes, he felt his mother was looking at him.

  'I still think this thing was oddly painted,' thought Christian. There was an apparent missing space in the painting, which somehow bothered him. After shaking his head, he went to sleep.

  The next day, he woke up early to meditate; it was another thing his mother had forced him to do since he was eight. He attended school, attended activities afterward, and continued his tight schedule. Things proceeded smoothly until Saturday, the 22nd of September 1990, at night, when he was in a deep sleep.

  Sundays were a day of rexation for him, a day he can rex by the pool or do nothing at all, so he enjoyed them. However, while sleeping, a white light suddenly descended from the sky and entered his body.