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Chapter 15: Secret Unfolded

"Besley?"

Daddy suddenly opened the door into the library and asked me a question. It can be considered a whisper, but when I'm reading a book, I put all my focus on it. So when someone addresses my name, a little scare is inevitable.

"Yes, daddy?"

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Of course, I complied. So I went outside the library to talk.

"What is it that you want to talk about?"

He sighs. "You know, for someone who wanted Troy so bad, you don't really take care nor spend time with him a lot, do you?"

"What do you mean? I play with him! Sometimes..."

"Yes, twice in a week. A pet needs much more attention than that. Ever wondered why he keeps going back into the forest?"

"But he always comes back..."

"Yes, but he's still a wild animal. A young one at that. So he would be depending most on his instincts. Who knows what he might be doing there. Maybe he's finding himself a new home. Although he is quite comfortable around you, he isn't that comfortable around anyone else except for your mother. So don't be surprised if he doesn't come home one day. And I also noticed that his trips are getting longer and more frequent. Maybe he did find himself a home but is conflicted between here and there."

He paused for a while as I was also deep in thought. "Don't make Troy hesitate. If you want to make him comfortable here, then make him comfortable. We've all taken care of his food and a home. It's time for you to do your part and show him really why he should choose to stay here. Entertain him. Anything."

"..."

He then kneeled down to my height. "Besley, my son. I might not spend as much time as normal fathers do with their son, but you do have my blood. When I was your age, I also am a bit selfish and hate doing anything not fun. But, trust me, you will not regret keeping Troy. I have a hunch that he is something special and will fill your life with much more fun than you think. And besides, I'm asking to play with him! Take him to the forest with you! It's not a burden, it'll just be more fun!"

Everything he said was true. I am a bit selfish and I hate everything that is not fun. But I didn't realize that entertaining Troy would most likely entertain me too.

"Ok, I'll do it. I'll admit, I didn't think of it that way."

"I know you didn't." Daddy patted me on the back. "Now make me proud and get that dragon back!"

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

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"DON'T FUCK WITH ME! I GOT THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON MY SIDE! AAAAAAAAA-"

That is, what I would say if I can speak. The moment I knew that he knew, I jumped up so quick cats would be jealous and ran out the window, accidentally scratching the book I was reading on the ground.

And that got me quite the conflict because if there's anything I hate more than spilling secrets or absolute pain, is ripping a goddamn book.

Professor Damian took advantage to speak when I paused. "I'll be waiting~"

He walked away from the window only to turn back and say, "Oh, and I'll pay for the book you broke." I looked down and saw that I actually scratched it deep enough to go through the leather cover and through a few pages. Now how the hell did I do t-

Wait-

WHY AM I WORRYING ABOUT THIS WHEN THAT BITCH OF A LIBRARIAN CAUGHT ME???

Then I remembered, he gave me a book about telepathy. Does that mean he wants to speak with me? Maybe he will be willing to help keep my secret.

And maybe... I can get a friend now... Been a bit lonely having no one to talk to except for trees and dirt. Yes, lovely floor. They're great listeners, but they don't react.

Anyways, since the damage has been done, I decided it wouldn't hurt to read the book Professor recommended to me.

As I went back to the windowsill and started reading the book from the start. I saw on the corner of my very wide draconic vision(due to having eyes on the side of the head) that Professor Damian smiled.

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Turns out the only secret to telepathy is to remember a rune to spell-saying with someone's name in your head to address something to them. This would really help me to communicate if I ever wanted to. I've tried speaking with these new vocal cords and mouth structure, saying it didn't turn out well is an understatement. I sounded like a mentally retarded boar and bird at the same time.

Snapping myself out of my mind, I decided to test the telepathy on Professor Damian.

I wonder what he wanted by making me read this though? And how did he find out I was intelligent? I didn't remember acting intelligent in front of any of these people. Well, here goes nothing...

'Hello? Professor?' (Note: italics in between apostrophes(') is now telepathy)

He visibly twitched at my test sentence--although jump would be a more accurate term-- so I assume it worked.

He looked at me with wide eyes before smiling widely again.

Gosh, that smile is scaring me for some reason...

He then started walking to a corner of the library and then opened a trapdoor hidden under the carpet.

The hell-

He then started descending in a way that indicates there are stairs leading somewhere down. Before his whole body disappeared into the hole, he smiled at me--again--and moved his head in a way that says that he wants me to follow.

A part of me wanted to just run and bolt out of this weird situation, but the bigger part of me, the curious part, said NO. So, of course, I followed.

Then I realized, wouldn't people see this trapdoor open? But then I looked around and realized that there was no one else in the library.

Where did Besley go?

But it was the least of my worries when I saw that the trapdoor lead to a well-lit room with two more bookshelves. I guess you can call this a secret basement?

I went down and saw Professor Damian sitting on a cushioned chair with a notebook and pen on a table and another chair of the same variant opposite the table.

As soon as he saw me make myself comfy on the other chair, he smiled again. "Glad to see you cooperative. If you mind me asking questions about something you might have realized about yourself?"

Awwh, shit. I hate long interrogations.