A couple weeks ago, I started my character interviews with the humble farm elf, Baehur. You can find his interview by clicking on this link. Today, I am going to the other extremely of my spectrum to interview Arkeh, the arrogant rebel.
But I have to admit; she is one of my three favorite characters (along with Baehur and Gaevri’el, in case you were wondering.) Though I do put part of myself in every character I write (even Nakavar, my villain, and Raewas, the annoying one, are included,) Arkeh shares the most of my character traits, but we still do have many differences. She is not my most likable character, but hopefully, you won’t hate her too much 😉
And please note that Etsaem is a different elven race than Eshaem. I know they are really similar; sorry!
I hope you enjoy my “interview” with Arkeh, and as always, I really would appreciate hearing your opinion and criticism of the character!
Character Interviews: Arkeh
I was a bit nervous for this interview—not that I did not like Arkeh—but because she is difficult to get talking. Chewing on the end of my green pen, I reviewed my questions one last time while I waited. Then I heard two sharp knocks on my door, and I smiled—if I could get Arkeh to talk, then this interview could become my favorite.
Striding in, Arkeh quickly set her piercing blue gaze on me and attempted to break her stoic face with a smile. The smile wasn’t natural and did not last long. But I understood the gesture and knew from firsthand experience how awkward interactions with people can be. So I smiled in return, and she nodded.
“Thanks for coming. You can sit down.”
One eyebrow on her sun-burnt face lifted, and a more natural grin tugged at one corner of her mouth. Gesturing towards her muddy—even slightly bloody—attire, she declared, “I think not.”
“It’s fine,” I shrugged and gestured to the dirt, ink, and a few unidentified stains on the carpet and chairs. “I’m guessing you came straight from training?”
“No. I came from a rousing debate with Amets and Raewas about the political ramifications of the Etsaem’s social organization.” Casually unbuckling a massive sword from her side and leaning it against my desk, she sat down.
Still eyeing her, I noticed a large greenish bruise beginning to form on her cheek, but it was only barely visible underneath the many long hairs which had escaped from her single, golden braid. “And the mud—and the bruise?”
Arkeh grinned—this time it was with her entire face. “It escalated. One cannot reason with idiots.”
“But one can punch them?” I chuckled—Raewas could use a good beating now and then.
“My question really is: did Amets cheer the two of you on or try to break the two of you up?”
Pausing, Arkeh’s face went blank as she thought. “I’m not sure he even knows. I think he forgot which goal he was trying to achieve and so alternating between supporting and discouraging both.”
Typical Amets. I nodded, but I knew I needed to get onto the questions, so after a brief moment of silence, I began. “What is your name, age, and elven race?”
“Arkeh, Eshaem elf. I am sixteen.”
I made a quick note: fire elf, before I moved onto the next question. “Will you tell me a little bit about your family and home?”
“Raised by my mother near Flame Lake, Eshva; estranged from my father. I have a twin brother—slightly older—named Gaevri’el, and a younger brother called Fedor.”
I scratched out the next question on the list (which was “how did you met Karlik?”) as Arkeh did not met him until the end of my first chronicle of their journey, and I did not want to spoil anything for you guys. Instead, I skipped to a question which I hoped would open her up. “What is your preferred weapon?”
A smile perked at the corner of her mouth again, as she unfolded her hands on the table. “My claymore. Total length is one point five yards long; blade one point two yards. Weight is 4.1 pounds. And the inscription reads: ‘Strength is born of fire.’”
“Wow, that sounds like an awesome weapon! Was it made for you?” I noted that the inscription was typical of the independent fire elves, but it fit her very well.
Her voice briefly took on a bitter air, but her face showed no signs of it.“Yes, Aralt ordered it made according to my designs for our fourteenth birthday.”
I had to prod her to give the information I wanted; though I already knew it, I suspected you guys would want to know. “And Aralt is?”
“My biological father.”
“The King of Eshva’?”
“And nothing else.” The words were spoken with little emotion, but her blue eyes flashed in anger.
“I take it that you are not really in contact with him.”
“If you define contact as more than sending biannual emissaries to ensure that his heir, Gaevri’el, has not been struck dead and annual birthday presents—though he did miss our seventh and twelfth years, then no, we are not in contact.”
“I’m sorry.” Honestly, it was surprising that Gaevri’el had turned out so normal, and I couldn’t blame Arkeh for being angry.
She shrugged, and suddenly, all the anger had disappeared from her face. “Don’t be. I never knew him, so I can’t miss him.”
“Ah…” That might be an interesting point to exploring in my second novel, but I moved on to my next question. “So, who would you say is your mentor?”
“Don’t have one. People don’t like me enough to mentor me, so I learn myself.”
Almost true but not entirely, I thought. I knew who her mentor was, but I supposed that I would have to take another approach to get his name out of her. “Well, then, who are your friends?”
“Your twin brother?” I smiled, There we go; now you guys have her mentor’s name.
“Yes, I couldn’t live without him. He is really the only person I trust, and I know he always has my back as I have his. Other than him, I don’t have any friends.”
“How about those at the Golden Fort who are training with you?” I pressed.
Arkeh went quiet again, and I got the feeling she did not mind the silence at all. “I think I like Baehur—I’m not sure yet, and I’m pretty sure I will like Mar. Zeroah is a kind acquaintance—though I did journey with her to the Golden Fort. And—before you ask—not Raewas; he is infuriating. Though I would not call any of them friends—friends know each other, and they don’t know me.”
Hopefully, I can fix her friend problem before we get too far into my series, but I chose to dwell on another part of her answer. “Raewas bothers you?”
Tilting her head, Arkeh glared at me from under her eye brows as if I could control Raewas’ actions. “He is so flirtatious and fake—his humor is only of the base kind, and he is a stubborn bully. And he is not capable of making intelligent insults or clever humor.”
I snorted, but decided that question had been fully covered.
“So what would you say are your weaknesses?” I asked the question even though I am sure I had pinned down most of them.
Arkeh didn’t blink. “I hate most people in general, am arrogant, too blunt, and generally come off as if I don’t have emotions. I only wish that last part was actually true.”
I barely caught her last sentence; it was spoken so quickly, but I did manage to put it in my notes and think about it. Yes, Arkeh was definitely a character to be pitied not admired.
“You seem to know yourself pretty well.” I raise my eyebrows; I would have been surprised if it was any other character.
“Yes. It is good to know one’s limitation and weaknesses.”
“True,” I agreed before asking my last question, “What about your strengths?”
Again, Arkeh was prepared for the question. “I am intelligent, rational, and have gathered a reasonable amount of applicable knowledge. I have trained with weapons since I’ve had the coordination to properly grasp a hilt, so I have a reasonable amount of skill. And I can lead when it is needed.”
After making a few more notes, I looked up and offered her a smile. “Thank you for coming in. I will enjoy writing your story in my second novel.”
“I will enjoy living it.” Standing up, Arkeh quickly fastened her sword and sheath back around her, and gave me a slight, very correct curtesy which looked interesting with the large blade and her purple and green face. As she walked out of my writing room, I smiled. Yes, I would definitely enjoy watching her in my next novel.