Sylvester looked at the two old foggies…he was one of them too, technically. "I will keep it a secret until my grave, holy father."
"Great! What are we waiting for then?" Grandpa Monk clapped his hand and waved his staff to magically pull the side table closer to himself. Then two more chairs also got dragged for the Pope and Sylvester.
The Pope took a seat and put a cloth bag on the table. "I hope I don't get dismissed for this."
'Who's going to dismiss him?' Sylvester muttered, sensing a lot of lies.
"Come here and take a seat, young bard. Today, I shall make a man out of you." The Pope called him, patting the table.
'What does he mean by that?' Sylvester, for the first time, felt slightly worried for his safety. The two men in front of him could easily kill him with a wave of their hands. He was less than an ant.
But he took a seat and waited to see what was inside that cloth bag.
Ting!
