Rheka must have figured out my intentions as she suddenly wanted to learn how to read as well. However, unlike me, the girl could voice her desires. Visla was overjoyed when Rheka shared her request with her. With excitement she rushed through the house, leaving our sight, returning with an array of books I hadn’t seen yet shortly after. How could she be this enthusiastic about one's interest in reading? Despite Rheka’s young age, her curiosity shouldn’t have been out of the ordinary. Maybe I was missing something. Was her mother secretly some type of overly-fanatic bookworm? The type that would enslave themself to working sixty-hour weeks at the local public library. And hunt you down to the ends of the world if you failed to return a book at its exact due date.

Before us lay a plethora of books. Small ones, big ones, with covers made of wood, leather and other materials. The colors ranged from bright shades of red to darker, almost brown tones. The era of bedtime stories had ended and ahead of us waited a boatload of work. I let out an internal sigh, thinking about all the effort we’d have to put in. Well, at the very least we had someone helping us out.

The following half a year was spent studying rigorously, with the occasional trip down the basement stairs here and there. We hadn’t made any progress in anything related to magic, but we, or rather I, had figured out how to read in a somewhat proper fashion rather early into our studies. Not because Visla was a great teacher or anything, quite the opposite. She had a household to run by herself, so she returned to her motherly duties shortly after giving us access to her learning materials. The reason for my quick success was probably because this wasn’t really my first time learning how to read, as well as the fact that I’d gotten a grasp on the language at a fairly young age too. Albeit only in the hearing way of things. Rheka seemed to struggle quite a lot by herself. That girl couldn't sit still for longer than sixty seconds. Her mother did try to aid her where she could, but progress remained slow. Of course, as much as I wanted and tried to, I couldn’t help either. Keep at it young one. Surely, you’ll get the hang of it soon enough.

The language spoken in the country I now lived in was called “Common Solarian” or just Solarian. Well, it wasn’t just the language spoken by the people in this country, but rather most countries on the whole continent. Kind of the lingua franca, I’d say. It was a harsh language, full of hard consonants, some drawn out to a very long extent. I had to practically throw out anything I knew prior about pronunciation, not that it’d been a lot to begin with but still. Learning to speak or rather think Solarian had been a nightmare when I first started to do so. And learning how to read it was sort of just more of the same. I couldn’t help but think that it had a striking similarity to Latin, or rather a form of Pseudo-Latin. You know, the language that sounds a lot like Latin but is just meant as a humorous imitation, deliberately devoid of any real meaning.

Dori me, interimo adapare dori me.

The old man had remained clueless about our undertakings. He had spotted Rheka a few times browsing through her books, but probably dismissed it as a child skimming over its mother’s belongings. Works for us. I didn’t want Pops to find out that we’d been using his basement as our personal playground. Well, let’s just say that sometimes what you want isn’t exactly what you’ll get.

“I still haven’t figured out what that one’s about.”

A familiar yet- rarely heard voice spoke from behind us, as we sat on the basement’s floor, once again fooling around with our favorite vibrating red orb. We turned around and there he was – the man himself stood before us, giving us the same indifferent look as usual. His face usually gave you no hints to what emotion it was supposed to portray, and his monotone way of speaking didn’t help either. Yet this time it was different. Just like when he came out of the forest during that one night, burned and bruised - he suddenly cracked a slight smile.

He grabbed the orb as Rheka held it out towards him, putting it back on its place shortly after.

“Does your mother know? You’ve been here a couple of times by now.” Rheka remained silent; head tilted towards the floor in an attempt to show remorse. It felt awful getting caught with our pants down like this. An all too familiar feeling. He had never returned home on the same day he would leave. So, what changed?

I guess he’d just decided to confront us. It sounded like he knew all along anyways. “How’s the reading going? Get the hang of it yet?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“It’s hard.” Rheka murmured. “I don’t want to read! I just want to play with these here. Or outside!” she said, gesturing at the items around her.

He laughed. "Don’t worry my child. No one ever starts their journey of knowledge as a master.”

Rheka paused for a brief moment before pointing at me. “He wants me to.”

I what?

The old man put a hand to his bearded chin.

“Oho? The dragon is making you read? Well, that’s interesting.”

Did I hear that right? Dragon? Is that what I am? At this point I was sure nothing could really surprise me anymore, yet somehow, I was flabbergasted. A lot of things made sense now. The claws, the fangs, the apparent wings. Mine weren’t too big, and my physical control of them had always been vague at best, so flying definitely wasn’t a possibility for me. Trust me when I say I tried.

But besides all that I was kind of happy. In a weird prideful way. I had been reincarnated into this world of possibility as perhaps one of - if not the most renowned and badass of fairytale creatures. Sure, I was comparatively small, but who knew what range my abilities really had? I got so lost in thought, I ended up missing parts of their conversation.

“I think it is about time we give this one a name, hm?”

“A name?” Rheka inquired.

“Of course, just as all things dear to you, your Forpal especially should be given a name. I'm surprised he hasn't recieved one yet.”

So was I. It'd been like what, four years almost?

I looked at Rheka, she just gave me a grin and a shrug in response.

“Hmmm...” Then she began to think with an intensity such that I could hear the cogs turn in her tiny head. “Ar- Argai- Argius!”

“Argius...? Ahh, like the Platinum Dragon Arcayes. I see you’ve been reading your Juskarri Folklore. Good girl.”

The name Juskarria had popped up quite often by then. Not just in the occasional book I’d read, but also during conversations I’d listened in to. I’d figured it was probably the name of the very country that we lived in at the time. But apart from the fact that it was a monarchy with a king on top I didn’t know much else about it. Oldschool.

“Yes! Argius.” She declared loudly. And so, I was given the name Argius, officially making me a member of the family.

“Now. Why would a dragon incentivize a little girl to read?” Vrintas turned to me, almost putting his face into mine. “The inability to speak isn’t unusual amongst Forpals, yet it is far from the norm for the draconic variants. Seeing as... their intelligence should outweigh... that of... most of their peers...” The old man moved his hand from chin to mouth, turning most of what he was saying into incoherent mumbling.

What are you trying to imply anyways, gramps?

“I wonder if...”

He began scrambling through one of his cupboard’s drawers, before pausing briefly. Suddenly he shifted towards me, almost spinning his whole body on the spot. He held a random book right up to my face... “Can you... read this? I mean. Do you understand it?”

I just stared at him. Crap. What in the world was I supposed to do? Tell them the truth? I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be able to talk? I might just end up getting killed on the spot for heresy, witchcraft or who-knows-what.

Wait. Get a grip, idiot. This guy literally knew how to perform magic.

I nodded carefully.

“Aha. See that?” The old man turned towards his granddaughter like he’d just found the culprit to some sort of crime.

“Of course. We always talk!” Rheka replied in a somewhat firm yet nonplussed tone. Well, it’s more like you talk and I listen but hey. Non-verbal communication works.

“Now then. Where did I put it?” After another good five minutes of scrambling about, Vrintas came to a halt. “That should solve it.” he said, while putting a brown collar around my neck. With the sound of a single click I suddenly felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off my back.

“Wha-?” I heard a familiar voice. One that I’d heard many times before, but only in a special recurring dream. It was my voice. “Whawha-wha?” Ah. Right. I hadn’t figured out how to actually speak yet. Rheka, who was about to burst out laughing, gave away as much.

“Huh. Maybe I was wrong after all.” Vrintas replied, reaching for the collar.

“No! Give him time!” I heard Rheka shouting before I felt her arms wrapped around my head.

“Well then.” Vrintas once again performed his signature pause, hand at his chin. “Visla shouldn’t be back home for a little longer, why don’t I give you children what you really came here for.”

I thought about letting out another “Whawha” before Rheka beat me to it.

“What’s that?”

“Come. I'll show you.” The old man said as he strolled up the basement stairs.