Interview With a Dreamer: Kain

Plucked from his reality, Kain spins around and quickly locates and locks eyes with the interviewer. In less than two seconds, the interviewer finds the curved tip of a sword a foot from their face. At the other end of the blade stands a tall, chiseled man. His skin is brown and bears a few scars including one on the left side of his neck, a thin line on his left cheek, and another on the right side of his forehead. These marks somehow only intensify how ruggedly handsome he is... I mean, if you're into strong, tall, dark, and handsome guys with thick lips, one-percent body fat, and the face of a make-up artist that's great at contouring.

"Well?" the warrior sternly asks.

It is at this point that the interviewer realizes that they were so lost in Kain's hazel eyes that they hadn't noticed that Kain seems to have asked a question or two. Those dreamy eyes narrow, then seem to wave... as does the rest of Kain's face, distorted by the heat, rising from the blade. The interviewer leans back in their chair, startled by the sword's intensity. They clear their throat, stalling in an attempt to overcome the overwhelming urge to flee. After a moment's pause, they remember something, then regain their composure.

"Kain, son of Kaolin, I presu-"

"I SAID, 'Where AM I?'" Kain firmly interjects. His voice is sharp and loud, but calm. "... and tell me how I got here. What sort of magic is this? Are you a Mage?"

"Sir. Please. I mean you no harm."

"Look... I asked a bunch of questions. Pick one. Answer it... or I will 'mean you harm.'"

"Please. If you look out the window, you can see that we're clearly in Adeaus Kingd-"

"I don't give a fuck what's out that window. I sense nothing outside of this room... literally nothing. That's impossible... so obviously this is some sort of spell."

"Please, I assure you that all is well," the interviewer pleas. They gesture toward a nearby chair and once again hope that Kain takes a seat.

Kain looks at the empty chair and takes a step toward it. He raises his blade above the back of the empty chair. A dull red flame is rising from the polished sword. The moment he places the blade's edge touches the back of the chair, a brief buzz is heard as if the blade were vibrating like a tuning fork. Slowly and with no effort, the glowing blade sinks into the wood, slowly slicing through the padded upholstery like scissors through paper. Despite the appearance of the red, ethereal flames, the chair shows no signs of burning.

"Okaaaaay," the interviewer says, realizing what Kain thinks of his offer to sit. "You come from a long line of people in a tribe, or civilization, referred to as 'Dorma.' What makes your culture special?"

"Are you for real right now? You just gonna magic me out here against my will, trap me in this... this box... and expect me to answer your questions without answering mine?"

"Please?"

Kain takes a step back and lowers his stance. The flames licking the air around his sword have changed from a dull, faint red into a bright, light blue. "Do you know what this is that I'm doing?"

"Yes. You're preparing an attack of some sort."

"Yeah... Suli Ay'ri... or 'wind slash,'" he explains, measuring who he sees as his captor. Not even the slightest attempt at defending themself he thinks to himself. This fool was looking scared at first, but now... nothing. Kain slowly stands upright. The fight is gone from his weapon. He sheaths the flameless blade. Yeah... I'm not even seen a threat... but why?

"If you don't like that question, my next one is: What’s your goal in life?"

After a moment, Kain closes his eyes he tilts his head forward to focus, projecting his sense of self in all directions. This time, he narrows his aim to directly in front of himself. After a sigh, he says "So there's some precaution already set. I can't even feel you. Are you even here? What is this?"

The interviewer sighs, annoyed with how poorly things are going."Yes... you can say that. There are 'precautions' in place. This is an interview. You're safe, and I promise, you'll be returned the moment it is concluded."

Kain crosses his arms. "What's this for? Who is your master?"

"My master?" The interviewer scratches their cheek. "The people?" they pedantically answer. "The people want to know."

Kain crosses his arms, his piercing eyes are still locked on the interviewer. "All I'm required to tell you is that my name is Kain. My rank is T'Bok'akon. I am eighteen years old."

"You're not a P.O.W., Kain. This is just an interview. Sheesh... Sage and LaTao were not this difficult..." Seeing Kain reach for this blade, the interviewer quickly adds that, "Both of them were already sent back to your world. Wow... are you always this difficult?"

Kain chuckles, finally relaxing his stance. "Of course I'm different around them and of course they were easier on you. You have religious crap all over the place so Sage would've probably told you anything you wanted. Love him to death, but he's very easy to manipulate. LaTao? HA! She probably assumed this was for a book you're writing about her and couldn't wait to tell you everything you wanted to know."

"Yeah, well we're almost out of time, so-"

"Well I'm a warrior and you cornered me. What did you expect?"

"Fair enough. Can I ask you two questions: One for you and one that I ask everyone?"

"I understand that your goal is to become the greatest swordsman alive, surpassing your father and forefathers."

Kain nods, wishing he hadn't severely damaged the second chair.

"How will you know that you’ve achieved that goal?"

"Over the next few years, I'll travel the world as I serve my country. I'll master every skill and hone my style until I become Mogazi Kado, the Master Guardian and the highest rank in the kingdom."

"And that will be enough?"

Kain paces biting his lip as he marinates on the question. "Hmmm..." He rubs the back of his neck and stares at the floor as if the answer was written there. "At some point, I'm sure the stories told of me will rival and surpass those told of my father... but even then...."

"You'd still have him on that pedestal."

Kain nods. "He never stopped striving to improve... so I guess my answer is 'never.' My goal is to always improve. As my grandfather said, 'The moment I believe I've reached the peak will be followed by the moment I am surpassed.'"

"A wise man."

"That he was," Kain replies with pride. "I believe His father was the one who coined the greeting La'med'i and Y'get'i." Seeing the intrigue on the interviewer's face, Kain explains himself. La'med'i is often said by someone like me, followed by their rank. I'm basically saying 'Practice' as either a suggestion or a question. They would respond 'Y'get'i' with varying levels of enthusiasm, basically meaning 'always.' You can tell what kind of day one's having by how they respond to La'med'i."

"Ah. So this is what people mean when they say that you over-explain. Glad to see you've relaxed."

Kain shrugs. "Last question?"

The interviewer nods. "What kind of person would you die for?"

"I would die for my family, which includes the two you interviewed... and I would die for my people."

"Typical noble knight response."

Kain shrugs. "You said you wanted answers. You didn't say they had to be fancy."

"Fair enough. Lesson learned." With a wave of the interviewer's hand, Kain disappears from the room. They sigh and relax in their chair, glad the tension is gone. "That was an ordeal. I'm sure I'll get a better interview next week. His little sister is sweet. I doubt she'll give me problems."