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The Protagonist Speaks

Interviews with the characters of your favourite books

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Fantasy

The Lightbender (of Safe Passage, by Karen Menezes)

Dear readers, tonight with us is the Lightbender, an illusionist who works as a healer. After days of wandering the border forest of Capherayna, he stumbled upon the Xaeltik community, an ancient tribe who are unable to defend themselves from the dark forces of the modern world. He is here to tell us about his adventures and struggles as he risks his life to save others.

Tell us about where you’re from. Urban or rural? Small town? What was life like?

A bunch of messianic fogies convinced my family to give up their only child for the good of mankind. I have no memory of my parents and no idea where I’m from. I was taken to a secluded environment in the mountains. The academy had no technology and no scope for a social life. My teachers were as emotionless as rocks and ensured we emulated them. It sucked, to a great extent, but I don’t regret it. I developed skills that few human beings could dream of. And, yes, it was worth it in the end.

That sounds like a hard childhood! Even so, I’m sure you have a few cherished memories.

The young Lightbender wasn’t too fond of his childhood. My teachers tortured our minds and bodies in the name of resilience. But when I look back, I miss hang gliding in the mountains, making strawberries from thin air and, in a masochistic way, pushing my body to the extreme. I developed a rich inner world that sustains me to this day.

What do you do now?

I’m an illusionist. It’s not as complicated as it sounds. I’m aware of the illusion of duality and pierce the veil if needed. Some say I perform miracles, but it’s hard work and practice, really. I’m a healer, one who wanders the world serving the afflicted in war and natural disasters. My toolkit comprises herbs, acupuncture needles, my hands and a sleek hang glider. Occasionally, I use my hang glider to get out of sticky situations.

I’m curious to know about your latest adventure. Which part of the world are you in?

My latest adventure is trying to avoid adventure as far as possible. I’ve been stranded in sieges and riots, famine and landmine-infested regions. I’ve walked into a massacre, for God’s sake! Sadly, I have a feeling I’m going to get myself into trouble again—but only if I visit the borderlands. There’s a reason I’ve avoided them like the plague all these years. I’ve been stuck in Capherayna for a while and can’t get myself to leave.

Continue reading “The Lightbender (of Safe Passage, by Karen Menezes)” →
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Arneth (of Death’s Flow, by Victor Klayin)

Dear readers, tonight we publish an in-world interview between two characters, a noble woman who wants to know more about one of the protagonists. They speak of scholars and warriors, of calculating the future and fate.

So… mister… Arneth, is it?

Arneth Farhan, your highness. May I ask what’s the purpose of this interview?

I was told a member of the Daht’Gahren was seen in town, and I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to know if you monks are for real, or if you are all just an act.

I am, ever, at the countess’ disposal.

Really? I couldn’t tell. You don’t look like a scholar monk, more like a swordsman yourself.

Indeed. My martial prowess comes from the time I worked with my father, as a caravan guard. We would always accept contracts for guarding merchant caravans, and thus from an early age I’ve been familiar with numbers. That would prove to be very valuable later on.

And how does a caravan guard becomes a Daht’Gahren?

Slowly, your highness, as it is with all students. Since I learned of the Daht’Gahren I have been attracted to the promise of their life. When my father had accrued enough means to pay for my tuition, I journeyed to Verian Tower in search of apprenticeship. I was twenty then. When I graduated, I was thirty-five.

And how was it, living in the tower of the Daht’Gahren?

Both demanding and rewarding in extreme measures. You may have noticed my… pointed lack of body hair. Every Daht’Gahren trains memorization and fast calculus to such an extent that the stress alone causes all of our hair to fall. For our graduation exam, we each have to commit an entire library to memory. And yet, what we gain is… unfathomable. I learned to read peoples’ minds just by analyzing their body language, and to calculate the future of nations.

That’s… impressive, if not preposterous. How can anyone withstand this?

Many don’t. Of every thousand students, only one graduates. It is never easy for anyone. I remember the sleepless nights spent studying, the oral exams that seemed designed to be impossible… I doubted myself for a long time, as I apprenticed, alone with but a mountain of books for company.

Surely there must have been something to look up to?

Yes, but it is hard to put it to words. Our teachers would make practical demonstrations of the knowledge they taught us, recite entire books from memory, read our minds in the middle of a class, things like this. However, what drove me most to study were the alternate calculations. They would show us, mathematically, how much worse off our world would be if this or that person hadn’t finished their studies. It is impossible for me to convey right now just how important each and every life is, and the difference every single person makes when they have knowledge, and the will to act.

Continue reading “Arneth (of Death’s Flow, by Victor Klayin)” →
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Rudi (of Legend of Elberkhan, by Yuxiao Chen)

Dear readers, tonight with us is an elderly tree elf recounting an adventure from his youth. He’s here to tell us about befriending a human, and their adventures that followed.

Can you tell the readers a bit about yourself?

Oh hi, I’m Rudi, I’m a tree elf, and I’m the author of Legend of Elberkhan. Yes, yes, I know you thought it was written by Yuxiao, but tell me, if it weren’t for me, how would she know the story? I was there. It was a long time ago, but I was THERE!

I am 777 years old. Now don’t look so shocked, that’s just rude! Ok, fine, I am pretty old, even for a tree elf. I still have my charm though, ahem… Anyway, as I grow older, I’ve been thinking more and more about the adventures from my younger years, of which one particularly stood out.

The story happened when I was 112, when I first met Aary. I remember every detail of it, as if it all happened yesterday. I was just a boy back then, like him… What are you laughing at! I was!

Apologies (putting on a straight face), so how did you two meet? I know it’s explained in the book, but can you briefly talk about it, without giving away too many details, for those who haven’t read the book yet?

Sure. I was just elfing around in the woods, you know, catching rabbits and other delicious treats. It was near my home tree hole, somewhere on the side slope of the Soulkeeper Mountain. Actually, it was not very far from the Castle of Elberkhan, but far enough away from the dangerous humans, or at least I thought it was. Well, not that I thought that all humans were dangerous. After all, my father was a human. But I always knew that some of them loved violence, they fought each other to obtain and keep things that they didn’t really need…

Sorry I’ve gotten a bit carried away now, haven’t I? Where was I? Yes, I was elfing around in the woods, minding my own business, and that boy snuck up on me! Caught me by surprise! He made me lose a very fat rabbit, I still haven’t forgiven him for that. I was scared out of my wits. I really thought he was going to eat me!

And what did you think about Aary when you first got to know him?

Well, he was kind, and brave, pretty eccentric, but nonetheless a good kid. Who can blame him for being a bit… strange, really, with all the terrible things he’d been through and all the suffering he had to endure almost constantly, all at such a young age. I don’t want to sound old, like I said I was just a boy myself, but I did have almost a hundred years on him.

Almost from the start I felt that he was hiding something from me, or maybe he was even hiding it from himself. I didn’t want to push him too much, you know, but personally I don’t believe that holding secrets is good for anyone.

Tell us a bit about the story of your book. Again, without spoiling it for the readers who haven’t read it.

Well, when I look back on my 777 years of life, that year was easily the most exciting one. Meeting Aary completely changed my life – from an ordinary tree elf whose only concern was the next meal, to what I am now, a well-respected advisor and the author of a book!

It was lifechanging for him too, meeting the most important girl in his life, having scary encounters with fearsome beasts that almost cost him his life, and discovering all those secrets about himself and the king… Oh, not to mention the big war at the end of the year. Phew, I’ve never seen anything like that before or since! Oops, am I giving too much away? Sorry! I got carried away again!

Continue reading “Rudi (of Legend of Elberkhan, by Yuxiao Chen)” →
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Squee (of Beast Be Gone, by A.L. Billington)

Dear readers, tonight we were scheduled to interview the owner of a renowned pest-control service, who helps citizens deal with creatures in their basements, undead haunting their castles, and infestations of goblins and other annoyances (all at better rates and kinder service than rampaging adventurers). Well, we were aiming to — but someone else showed up!

Hello, nice to meet you Eric. You’re a little… shorter than I expected.

Oh, sorry. I’m not Eric. He, um couldn’t make it. There was an emergency. Some oozes have infested a school, and the headmaster needed them out before the human children got back from their holidays.

Right, I see. And who are you?

I’m Squee, Eric’s Apprentice. Nice to meet you.

Are you a…?

A goblin. Yes. Sorry about that.

Please don’t apologise. I’ve just never met a goblin before.

Oh really? That’s odd because there are an awful lot of us. I suppose you don’t go into caves or hire many lawyers?

Not especially, no.

That’ll be it, then. Although goblins can be pretty evil, watch out if you see one holding something pointy. 

Noted. So you work for Eric at Beast Be Gone, Pest Control?

Yes! He’s been my master for a few months now. And let me tell you, he’s the best so far – Master that is. I’ve had more evil masters than I’ve had hot dinners. At least six.

How did you get involved with so many evil masters?

It’s the only real career path for goblins. That’s what my brood mother always said, anyway. You get a roof over your head, free grub, and you get to make a difference. 

Brood mother… where did you grow up, exactly?

All goblins get birthed in a swamp, of course. On account of the dampness.

I see. What was it like there?

Damp.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

I do miss my brood mother’s rat pie, but besides that, I was glad to leave. Although my skin has been dry ever since. Maybe I’ll go back one day, if Eric will let me.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure with Eric?

Where do I begin? We recently defeated The Dark Master, who had taken over the continent. I’m not 100% how he did it… Eric said something about economics? Anyway, everyone was suddenly an adventurer and there were no farmers or shopkeepers or anything left. So The King got Eric to find out what was going on. Pest control wasn’t doing so well either. All those adventurers cleared the dungeons, so he had no work left. Adventurers make a big mess, you see. Pest control is clean and humane. Adventurers just murder and blow things up. Although we did have to do that to a dragon…

Continue reading “Squee (of Beast Be Gone, by A.L. Billington)” →
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Penric & Desdemona (of their eponymous series, by Lois McMaster Bujold)

Dear readers, tonight with us is a learned temple divine and sorcerer — and the chaos demon he possesses. They are here to tell us about their complex relationship, as Penric navigates a world — and an occupation — he wasn’t prepared for, and Desdemona tries to keep him alive.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

Penric: I was born seventh child of my family at Jurald Court, in the valley of the Greenwell in the Cantons.  My father was the baron there.  Someone once offended me by calling my home a fortified farmhouse, but, really… he wasn’t wrong.  Looking back, it was a rather idyllic childhood, running all over the mountains, learning to ride and hunt with a bow or traplines, haying in the summer—everyone turned out for that, from the lord on down.  Butchering livestock in the fall, which proved oddly useful later when I came to teach human anatomy to the Mother goddess’s medical students in Martensbridge. And, ah, to certain tasks in support of Des.  Not many books at Jurald Court, though.

Des, as a chaos demon of the Bastard god, how would you even answer that question?  I mean… can you remember being born as an elemental?  Is it even being born?

Desdemona: [the sense of a snort—if you can call it that in a bodiless demon]:  Of course I don’t remember emerging from the Bastard’s hell.  It’s a place of chaos.  Neither memory nor any other kind of form can exist there in the roiling white boil.  I suppose my earliest memory is of being in—or being, hardly a difference at that stage—the wild mare in the peninsular mountains of Cedonia.  Her death, now, that I remember, and jumping to the lioness that killed and ate her.  Then the first human, brave Sugane the village woman, who speared the lioness and gave me my first human language to think in.  And a fear of heights.  Then nine more women after her.  All their childhoods are but borrowed memories.  Their deaths, though… in two centuries, I had twelve deaths, and no births.  Think on that, my sweet holy necromancer.

Pen: Oh, I do.  Or you do.  It’s getting harder to tell our thoughts apart, anymore.

Des: Welcome to my world.

What did you first think when you two met?

Pen:  I was bewildered.  Nineteen years old, riding to what I thought was going to be my betrothal.  I mean, I didn’t realize this dying old woman on the roadside I’d stopped to try to help was a Temple sorceress.  I’d never even met a sorcerer before.

Des:  We thought you were the best human in range to jump to—though there wasn’t much choice in the moment.  The least rigid mind, which mattered… well, you know how much it matters now.  Incandescent wits, trapped under the stone of your benighted rural life.  Also [the sense of a slight, embarrassed cough] by far the prettiest.

Pen: [Ignores this.  Though somewhat flattered by the “incandescent wits” bit.]

What do you do now?

Pen: As a youth, I certainly never expected to become a learned Temple divine, seminary trained.  Five times over, counting my own training after I contracted Des, and that of four Temple sorceresses who had her before me.  And three times trained for a physician, mine and two learned women likewise, though that… did not go well.

Des: [snorts, but charitably makes no comment.  Some wounds do not bear touching.]

Pen: The five new languages Des gifted me with from her prior humans have allowed me much comfortable work as a translator.  Beyond that, whatever tasks my Temple superiors or my secular authorities request.  Or my god, Fifth and White.  As a sworn servant to the god of mischance, I never know what distressed persons or problems may next be given into my hands.  “No Hands But Ours”, as the motto of my Order says.   

Des:  Me, I try to keep this fool alive.  He—and the Temple and the secular lords and most of all the god—don’t make it easy.

Continue reading “Penric & Desdemona (of their eponymous series, by Lois McMaster Bujold)” →
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Emperor Tiriyanin (of Tiriyanin’s Riddles, by Izabela Raittila)

Dear readers, tonight with us is Emperor Tiriyanin from the Gragiyan Empire, the ruler of an ancient land where humans live among gods, elves and other mythical beings. He’s here to tell us about his duties and the new woman in his life, his new mistress Ducissa Skaraila.

I’ve heard that Your Highness was born after the war with the northern kingdom of Misoa? Tell us a little was it like growing up at the imperial palace at that time?

Yes, I was born in the sixth year of my father’s reign, a year after he and King Arkon of Misoa signed the peace treaty, putting an end to a bloody war. Arkon married my aunt Princess Lorli as part of the peace agreement, and their union meant the start of friendship between our nations. I grew up at the palace in the capital city of Ifirium, in the province of Gragiya, the heartland of our empire. Though our nation was at peace, five years of fighting had wrecked our economy. Several of our major cities had sustained severe damage, some places were reduced to ruins. My father spent the rest of his reign establishing new trade deals with his brother-in-law and planning the reconstruction projects in each province with the High Council, with hopes of restoring our empire to its former glory.

Many of these projects consumed a lot of his time and I didn’t see much of him during the first few years of my life. I spent my early years at the imperial palace in Ifirium, where he entrusted a man named Ferision to be my advisor and mentor. His role was to oversee my education and training while my father focused on his duties. When not busy with my studies, sports and combat training, I would sit by my father’s side at official gatherings, listening to him address his court.

This was his way of preparing me for my role as Ifrey Prisis, a term for prince and heir to the throne in our language. I had a happy childhood with servants tending to my every need, a great mentor, a loving grandmother and parents. As I got older, my father would take me with him on tours across various parts of our continent. In addition to Gragiya, there are three provinces including the military region of Arhia, the mountains of Lavinium, which is only partially inhabited by our people. The tallest peaks near the volcano are home to the wild beasts and two Enai (elven) clans, the mountain and fire Enai, immortal servants of Lord Fiehri, the god of fire and volcanoes and his queen, the earth goddess Lady Lavinia. Beyond it lies the sparsely populated desert of Niralis, the only province I have yet to visit.

These trips made me realize just how vast our world is and the great responsibility that now rests on my shoulders as its leader.

Did Your Highness have any cherished memories as a child?

One of my favorite memories is listening to my father telling stories about his epic battles and adventures during the war with Misoa. I’m particularly fond of the one where he ended up stranded in the desolate desert province of Niralis. That’s where he met his desert rose, my mother Alya, a native Niralisian. Some aspects of Niralisian culture are still part of our daily life such as the tradition of drinking mint tea and eating latti after a meal.

What exactly is latti?

Latti is my favorite dessert, a pastry made of sesame, honey and cinnamon.

That sounds delicious.

Yes it is, though it’s not something you can have in large quantities.

Good to know. Moving on, tell us more about how Your Highness feels about your role as Emperor of the Gragiyan Empire? What’s the best thing about it?

Our fate lies in the hands of the gods. When Lord Makar, the god of death sent his ghastly shadow servants, the Morkrai for my father, I was proclaimed Ifresir (emperor in our tongue) and I swore to continue his legacy. Unlike my father, who spent the first part of his reign fighting a brutal war, thanks to his efforts I inherited the throne at a time of peace. Rebuilding our empire after the war was his life’s work. One of the best things about being Ifresir is that I have the opportunity to fulfill his dream and transform our nation into something magnificent. This is only my first year as Emperor and there’s a lot of work to be done. I have a team of architects ready to make my vision a reality and the High Council supports my ideas for the reforms.

Continue reading “Emperor Tiriyanin (of Tiriyanin’s Riddles, by Izabela Raittila)” →
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Kim Taylor (of Forbidden Road, by Reut Barak)

Dear readers, tonight with us is a modern witch who in her final year of college was sent to the distant past against her will. She is here to speak about love and betrayal, about living in a world of dangerous magic, dragons, and violent knights. And a bit about college romance and spaghetti.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

It was in Reading, England—it will only be build centuries from now. I have only vague memories from the future. It’s much more crowded than here, in Kardoel. There’s a lot of rush, and people drive vehicles that don’t have horses. I’m not exactly sure how that works. You get in and it makes a lot of noise, you use a wheel to turn it. There’s a town I remember-much bigger than the ones here. They call it Oxford. Seth is there too. I remember him, but everything around him is blurry. He’s different than now. A lot less serious. He’s trying to tell me something about my comp…computer. I have no idea what that is.

After the time travel, I woke up here, in Morgan’s fairy tribe. Have you ever visited a fairy tribe? You haven’t, then you don’t know about the food! I guess since they’re all thousands of years old, they got a lot of practice. The simple things were the most impressive. Like their corn and berries bread. Morgan’s tribe would conjure a variation of the recipe that had bilberries. And serve it with a drink that combined flower extracts. We’d have it at breakfast, with the dawn. Right by the lake, under the mossy beech trees. We’d also have dinner there, and I’d listen to the fairies play. Except when there were drumming sessions. It was…let’s just say I had a lot of excuses ready to use in order to avoid it, and wax for my ears if I failed.

And you miss the tribe?

Not any more. They lied to me, about who I really am.

Is that why are you here in Kardoel?

Partly. I’m actually looking for someone. Perhaps you’ve met him? A mage named Merlin.

Why do you need to meet Merlin?

That’s for his ears alone. I have a message that I must deliver personally. Many lives depend on it. And it can’t fall into the wrong hands. Listen, you cannot under any circumstance tell anyone my real name, or Seth’s. We are Adelis and Caradoc now. You found out the truth—take it to your grave. I can’t imagine what will happen to us if we get discovered.

Continue reading “Kim Taylor (of Forbidden Road, by Reut Barak)” →
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Pawlina Katczynski, aka “Pawly” (of Werecats Emergent, by Mark Engels )

Dear readers, tonight with us is a young woman, scion of an ancient clan of werecats. She is here to tell us about the challenges of discovering your family’s dark secrets and battling lethal urges, while trying to finish high-school.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

My brother Tommy and I lived in Norfolk, Virginia most of our time growing up. Our dad was a Navy SEAL, so we were your garden-variety Navy brats. Around major holidays while Dad was off on deployment, our mom would take us on a bus to D.C. and then a train to Chicago where our folks were both from. There we’d spend time together with our grandparents and aunts and uncles. At the time our extended family all lived together in the same building, so it was like a big family reunion whenever we’d show up. We’d been on ice skates from nearly the time we could walk, so we’d bring our hockey gear along and play pick-up games with the kids from a Chicago neighborhood league our aunt and uncle coached. The tricks we learned there made us high school hockey superstars back in Norfolk!

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

Our great grandfather, a retired Coast Guard commandant, had bought a decommissioned light keeper’s cottage situated on a small, remote wooded island in Lake Michigan near Wisconsin’s Door Peninsula. He fixed it up for his family to use a summer cabin, and my brother and I continued that tradition for much of our summers. With our dad gone so much, Tommy and I spent far more time at the cabin every summer than we did in either Chicago or Norfolk. We’d wander around all day, every day, building forts and playing hide n’ seek and combing the beaches looking out for treasure washed up from centuries of shipwrecks.

What do you do now?

Tommy and I are both trying to finish out our senior year at a new high school. It’s been, well, a challenge…

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

Let’s just say neither of us had any idea just what it meant to be Growing Up Werecat. Not until I first morphed last Halloween, the night before our big game at the invitationals last fall in Green Bay.

Continue reading “Pawlina Katczynski, aka “Pawly” (of Werecats Emergent, by Mark Engels )” →
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Gnochi Gleeman (of Gleeman’s Tales, by Matthew Travagline)

Dear readers, tonight we are sitting down in the darkest corner of a menagerie’s main tent. The man we’re speaking with is supposedly considered a world-class storyteller. His name is Gnochi Gleeman. We’re also accompanied by his young apprentice, a scribe named Boli, who is recording Gnochi’s answers, even though we record the interview. The boy is working off faint candlelight, and writes with sharp, neat scratches of his pen on the paper. Gnochi has made me promise to publish this interview a year and a day after we speak, so here we are.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

I grew up in a small farmhouse about a half-day’s ride from [city name redacted] along the coast. I obviously can’t disclose too much more than that in order to protect the location of my family’s collection of old-world tomes and books. But it was a hardy, quiet upbringing. My folks didn’t get out to town too much beyond buying supplies, which means I didn’t see much of life outside our homestead until I had the first whiskers on my face.

Not that I’m complaining. There’s a very legitimate need for secrecy in our line of work. Constantly drilling and preparing, in case the luddites got wind of our stache, or the king’s men came knocking.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

Unfortunately, we did not have the luxury of recreation, even as children. I will say though, before you write my parents off completely as heartless monsters, that we did have a lifetime’s worth of books to keep us entertained. I have spent many moons of my life lost among the stacks, gently peeling back the covers on a book that has remained unopened, it’s story untold for thousands of years. The stories I can tell you…

What do you do now?

I can’t quite put “protector of forgotten knowledge” on my tax forms, so I am a bard by trade. An itinerant one. Which means during the warm seasons, it’s me and my horse shambling between any tavern or inn with a little warmth to spare, telling the stories of the past to people who can’t even fathom… Or at least, I was.

I’m actually trying (and failing) to be a retired bard. I’ve lived the better part of my life on the road, huddled up under tarps that barely keep the chill of rain out.

So… what brought you out of retirement?

My dear sister and niece were kidnapped. Unfortunately, I am being extorted by the bastards who took them, forced into a Herculean labor of near impossibility. But, what can I do? If I don’t comply, there’s no hope I’ll see my family again. And, before you ask, I cannot disclose what I need to do. If the wrong person were to see this interview, it could put my whole mission in jeopardy. Hell, even mentioning it to you may have sealed their fates. But, somehow, I doubt the people who kidnap others are cultured enough to be reading personality interviews. And, in a year, this will have wound its course.

Continue reading “Gnochi Gleeman (of Gleeman’s Tales, by Matthew Travagline)” →
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