Character Interview, Short Stories and Other Narratives

Character Interview: Raewas

So far I have done three character interviews from the novels I am working on (which you can read about here.) One has been with Baehur, one with Arkeh, and one with Mar Zaehav. Now, I am doing an interview with one of my oldest character, Raewas (or Delsin as he was formerly known.)

I consider Raewas one of my most interesting character– though definitely not my personal favorite (Sorry, Raewas.) But I do love writing him. However, his backstory plans a pretty major role in the first three books, so I cannot reveal it here. I hope you can enjoy it anyway 😉

As always, I hope you enjoy getting to know Raewas, and I would be thrilled to hearing your criticism and opinion of the character. Also I have posted a second time today with a character voting poll! (The poll is also at the bottom of this interview.) I would love to hear who is your favorite

God bless,

Gabrielle

This is how I picture Raewas– only he does not have the same scars and the armor is not the type in my novel. (The picture was is called “Fenris Dragon age II” and it belongs to sakimichan on Deviantart. Please use discernment if you choose to look this artist up as I do not know their other works.)

Character Interviews: Raewas

This rendering of my character I made using the website dolldivine.com.
This rendering of my character I made using the website dolldivine.com.

Raewas was supposed to arrive an hour ago. I had finished both my math and re-written part of the current essay I was working on before he finally arrived.

There was no knock on the door or a polite voice asking to come in. No, the door swung open, and a tan boy with pale, silvery blue hair sauntered in. His mischievous, cocky smile seemed ready to tease anyone, and his fit, lean body bragged about his strength. But I knew what was underneath, and since I was already irritated at him being late, I did not feel inclined to be gentle when I would strip away this façade of his.

I did not both to get out of my chair this time. “You should have been here an hour ago.”

“Sorry,” he gestured flippantly to underscore his excuse, his tone revealing anything but sorrow, “Karlik had me cleaning the stables again. He’s set against me, you know.”

“You still could have been here.”

“I’m fashionably late!”

“No. You are errant and irresponsibly late.”

To my annoyance, he tilted my chair back and placed his boots on my desk. For some odd reason, they were perfectly clean—which surprised me considering his excuse had been that Captain Karlik had kept him cleaning the stables.

“So you hate me, too? You, Karlik, Baehur—and now that fire witch, Arkeh. No wonder, nobody likes me—even my author is determined to ruin me!” He gave a dramatic sigh as if he was some gracious hero undergoing trials. Through his smiling act, he tried to hide the pained, resentful look.

I glared into his pale blue eyes. “No. I like you, but that doesn’t mean you can’t annoy me. Most of your troubles are your own fault!”

“Ah, yes.” It was as if a new character sat before me. His features morphed into a snarl, all the playfulness gone, and his body tensed. “Ah, yes. It is all my fault. It wasn’t as if I was forced to have a father—like that! —Or—or—“ Suddenly, his anger transformed again, and fear lit up his eyes. Then he laughed and slid back into the chair again, relaxed. It was as if I had a shape-shifter in front of me—only this boy dealt with emotions instead of physical forms. “Shouldn’t you get onto your questions? You know, since you are so short on time?”

So close, I thought. If only I could get him to really open up, this interview would be very interesting. Yet, outwardly, I remained grumpy and irritated; it would do no good for Raewas to learn that I had a lot of sympathy for him. “Name, race, and age.”

“Alright then, Miss Abrupt. My name is Raewas, and I’m a Mayimaem elf. But that is pretty clear, huh?” He flipped his distinctive silver hair and winked his icy blue eyes. I ignored him, and after a moment, he continued. “And I’m seventeen years old.”

“So before you joined the Seven Knight of Evcadeh, where did you live, and who is your family?” I observed Raewas closely for this question—I was interested in seeing if he would try to lie to me like he did to his fellow characters.

Without hesitation, Raewas began rattling off his invented tale, though he casually avoided eye contact by looking out the window to my right. “Grew up in Cis Zir—one of the two Mayimaem cities on the shore of Kat Yam. My dad was Bythan, the local tavern owner…”

Suddenly, Raewas’ voice trailed off, and he shifted. Sliding his feet off my desk, he allowed them to land heavily on the floor as he sat up and stared me in my eyes. The starved wolf look came back into his frightened, angry eyes. “You know my story,” he hissed. “You know my lies. Why should I repeat them for you?”

“Because I would like to hear it from your own mouth. Will you tell me your true story?”

“No. I won’t play your game.” Raewas snarled as his hands wrung the arms of my office chair. “Give me your next question.”

Seeing that I could get nowhere on that question, I decided to move on. One thing I can mention about Raewas’ story is that his father was not named Bythan and was not a tavern owner. “When did you join the Seven Knights?”

“Just before Wonder Boy did.” Raewas smirked and again lifted his feet onto my desk.

“Baehur?”

“Yeah; the prophesied hero; the happy farm boy; Lord Power, Joy, and Charm.” Rolling his eyes, Raewas seemed to have shifted back into his old act.

“Uh huh,” I muttered, but I didn’t pursue the tension between Raewas and Baehur. “Speaking of the others, do you have a mentor?”

Raewas leaning back and folded his hands behind his head—for a moment, he dwelled on the question; then he looked back at me. “I suppose Karlik is all of our mentor, and Amets teaches me occasionally.”

“Okay.” I made quick note of that before I moved on. “What weapon do you prefer to fight with?”

“I like my sword best,” Raewas slipped the sword, a gladius, out of its sheath which jutted off at a strange angle, sticking straight off to the side, in the office chair. Clearly, Raewas had not remembered to remove it before he sat down and began to lounge. Setting it carefully on the table, Raewas grinned and winked. “I made it myself.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Where did the son of a tavern owner learn how to make such a blade?”

Raewas’ mood again shifted like the winds between calm and violent before a storm, and his jaw clenched in anger and defiance. “I already said that I won’t tell you anything. Why should I repeat the story which you wrote?”

“Fine. I won’t try again.” I promised, and Raewas seemed to relax for the first time since he stepped into my office—actually relax and not just pretend. “Do you have any friends?”

“Sure, lots. Amets and I are two sides of the same coin; Mar’s completely enamored with me, and everyone else at the Golden Fort wants to be my friend.”

I rolled my eyes—Raewas only wished this was true. “Mar barely tolerates you.”

Raewas waved him hand, dismissing the idea. “She’s coming around.”

“Whatever, you say,” I objected before continuing with my last two questions, “What are your strengths and weaknesses?”

“Well, I don’t really have any weaknesses—“

“Raewas!” I snapped, glaring at him.

“Fine, fine. I’m disastrously heroic, dangerously handsome, and woefully brave. I’m doomed to break the hearts of every lady and die sacrificially.” He held up his hand to keep me from interrupting again. “And if you want a ‘real’ weakness—though those are perfectly valid!” He paused to glare right back at me, “I was born at the wrong place, at the wrong time, and to the wrong people. Happy?”

“You’re impossible,” I grumbled. “Should I even try to get an honest answer about your strengths?”

Raewas seemed to think for a moment, and the smile faded from his face. “Maybe not. There are somethings that will always fail. But—“ His head lifted up, eyes focusing and his grin returning. “I’m a good sword fighter—though not as good as Wonder Boy. I’m the best out of the group at improvising—including Wonder Boy, and I am not afraid of the unknown.”

“Well, thank you.” I made a few more notes; maybe this interview had been irritating, but at least, it wasn’t boring. No, that definitely wasn’t a word I’d associate with Raewas.

For a moment, Raewas was silent, and I hear the chair creak as he got up. “Well, I hate you.”

Glancing up, I watched Raewas saunter out of the room as if he had said nothing, but I knew he meant it. He truly did hate his author, and perhaps he had a valid reason.

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