I couldn't believe I had agreed to this. I had more important things to do. The most dangerous battle of my life was on the way. The entire race of mages was in danger, and perhaps even the normals after us were in danger. Here I was, getting ready for a damn interview that may never even be seen. I couldn't help the seventh sigh in twenty minutes slip as people set up their cameras and lights in front of me. Out of the camera shot my interviewer took a drink of water and reviewed the topics he had hoped to hit.
"Alright, the stage is set. On in two minutes!" Someone in the back shouts. The stage. I was in the interviewer's living room, modified for my questioning. From the camera's perspective, I sat on a couch, an open window behind me letting in the evening sunlight. Occasionally a wind rolled through that blew open the curtains gently into the room. On either side of the window were bookshelves loaded from top to bottom with books. With the natural light behind me from the window, we needed a few lights in front of me to balance the room. If they were happy, so be it, let's get this over with.
"Are you ready?" The interviewer asks. I do not respond. He takes that as a yes and begins clearing his throat, and adjusts his tie. I don't intend to sit upright, nor do I intend to unleash a menacing presence, however, I've noticed I can't help it. I'm alert, powerful, and cold. I am strength given form, and it shows in even the way I breathe. All thanks to the way my life has formed me to be.
"Ready? Recording in three... two..." The person behind the camera flashes a single finger, then hits the record on his camera. There is a brief moment where neither of us speaks, neither of us moves, and we let the camera simply record me, what I am. The potential audience soaks in the scene and who sits before them. Finally, the interviewer leans forward.
"What's your name?" Introductions, necessary for those that came later. I don't imagine a soul in the world in today's age that hasn't heard of me. Mages and normals alike.
"I have many names. Diane Bordovin. Goddess of fire. Grim Reaper." I speak clearly. Clearly to the point it sounds like I'm trying to speak loud when I'm not. One word flows from one to the other, with an odd grace I hadn't possessed years ago.
"Would you care to tell us a little bit about yourself?" Personally, I'd rather not but I'm here now, aren't I?
"What do you want to know?"
"Let's start at the beginning..."
YOU ARE READING
Torva Messor
ActionI did not want this power, nor the judgments you laid down upon me. I have lived and survived both. Growing. Learning. I've lived in fear, but now the world will know that same fear. For none have seen what I've seen. Done what I've done. Sacrificed...
