Undine

09-07-09

FP


Adonis Rep


I was rudely awakened this morning by my editor's shrill voice coming through the magic pool. I knew there was a reason I kept that thing covered most nights. . . I tried to roll over and feign deep sleep, but persistence is a common attribute of employees of the Fantasy Press, so I reluctantly presented my worm trailed and baggy eyed face.



His news proved just the pick-me-up I needed. An interview! And with a knight, no less!



I enacted a spell of mist over my vanity disc and allowed my new bubbling fountain to further wake and refresh me. The rest of the morning was a hurried wyvern egg breakfast and final preparations for the world leap I'm about to make. I was, however, careful enough to pack goblin repelant, as my editor kindly warned me that my destination was crawling with the little buggers.



At last I was prepared, or so I thought. I straightened my robes one last time, then turned the sparkling green Ring of Portation to open the gateway between my home world of Aubrus and the wooded land where my interview was to take place.



Splash!



I could have sworn I stepped through the portal to a patch of green turf beside a babbling brook, but there I was smack dab in the middle of the dang thing. And more. . . what I had taken for a lazy woodland stream turned out to be a swolen, white, swirling, current rife river. I was struggling to keep my head above water.



At one point in my fight against the undertow I thought I saw a tall white bearded man, standing above me and nodding. I reached out for his aid, but I must have imagined him, because all I could see around me was more white foamy water, and a good distance away, the green shore.


You don't get to be a reporter of my caliber without a dazzling array of skills (yes I do say so myself). Some quick thinking on my part, and a hastily munched packet of buoyancy pellets, and I was finally able to drift my way to dry land. Even with the magic pills it was hard work.



There was no sign of the mysterious white bearded stranger, so I found a sunny rock on which to dry myself before my interview showed up.



Too late. . . Out of the woods came a beautifully armored knight astride a muscular white war horse. The knight's purple, gold embroidered doublet was accented with a scarlet mantle. His red and violet plume bobbed atop his gold colored helmet, in time with his horses cantering stride. Huldbrand von Ringstetten appeared the proverbial knight in shining armor--albeit a few moments too late to rescue yours truly.





H: You're all wet.


AR: So my readers tell me.

H: Shall we postpone our engagement?

AR: No. A little water never hurt anyone. I'll be fine.

H: Well, good sir, water can be quite mischevious in these woods. I am at a loss, however, to imagine how you got so thoroughly soaked in this meager streamlet.

AR: Streamlet!? Ha!

Note: At first I thought the good knight was joking, but when I turned to look at the mighty river which had nearly drowned me, I flinched in surprise. It was hardly more than a limping brook. I mumbled something to the effect of "must've hit a deep spot." But as far as I could see there wasn't a drop off to be found. I doubt I could have fully submerged myself if I tried.

AR: I'll dry out eventually. But in the mean time, Sir Huldbrand, I'd like to interview you on the subject of your recent marriage, and the unusual circumstances leading to it; not to mention your rather remarkable wife.

H: Ah. Undine, my wife, is remarkable indeed. But to begin with, it was water trouble, perhaps similar to yours, which lead me to the fisherman's cottage, and my beautiful bride.

AR: Do tell.

H: I had just left the Free Imperial City, sent on a quest by a fair lady named Bertalda. Through this wild wooded land I ventured, but at every turn I was harried by goblins and a tall white bearded man dressed in white robes.

AR: The man with the white beard!? I saw him myself!

H: I'm sure you did. His name, I recently discovered, is Kuhleborn, and he is the uncle of my dear Undine, and quite intimately related to the water in these woods. I really wouldn't doubt if it was he who is responsible for your soaking.

AR: Hmm. Well, we'll talk more about Kuhleborn in a moment, but back to the events that led you to Undine.

H: Escaping the mischeif of Kuhleborn and the goblins, I found myself in the company of a simple fisherman, who turned out to be the adopted father of Undine. The connection between we two was nearly instantaneous, and by another happy chance, a priest was soon along to marry us.

AR: Ah, but this is where it gets interesting. Your beloved Undine had a secret to reveal; did she not?

H: Oh, indeed! Ha ha! Her name, Undine, actually means mermaid, and she is one. She doesn' t have fins or anything like that. She's closer to what you or I would call a Naiad, a water nymph. She was separated from her elemental family and adopted by the good fisherman and his wife.

AR: Did you feel cheated when you found out she wasn't human? Did you reconsider your love for her?

H: Not for a minute. I felt a little bad that she'd kept a secret from me, but after all we'd known eachother such a short time. . . But no. Undine is my one and only.

AR: Recently, another strange twist has been added to your lives. Tell us about Bertalda.

H: Ahh, the lovely Bertalda--the very same maiden who sent me on my recent quest. It turns out that Bertalda is none other than the long lost daughter of Undine's adopted parents. Undine thought that Bertalda would be glad to know her true heritage, but it's taking longer than anticipated for her to warm to them. In the meantime, though, Undine and Bertalda are getting along famously. The three of us are almost always together. It's been wonderful.

AR: Yes, well. . . I'll be in touch to find out how that all plays out. I'm sure it will be great. Nothing bad ever happens when one man and two women are involved.

Well, that's about all the time we have for today. Is there anything at all you'd like to say to your fans back on Aubrus.

H: What fans? What's an aubrus?

AR: Never mind.

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Check out Undine, by Friedrich de la Motte Fouque

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=undine&x-14&y=20

Adonis Rep interviews are created and written by Tim Worsham

If you are an author or a fan of genre fiction and would like to see one of your favorite characters get interviewed, contact Tim at tcworm@hotmail.com


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Sojourner

08-06-09

FP

Adonis Rep



I'm up at the crack of early, practically vibrating out of my bed with nervous energy, as I make the final preparations for my big reporting debut. My home is a collection of hovering discs and dancing arches suspended about a mile and a half above the surface of Aubrus, my home world. As I slather stubble removing elixir on my ruggedly handsome face, I peer over the edge of my sleeping disc at the wide world below, and this is what I see: Nothing. Typical.


There hasn't been a newsworthy event on Aubrus since the days of the Great Goblin Uprising in the year of Osiris, and even that was more of a civil dispute than an actual war. There is absolutely no excitement on this world anymore. That's why most of my fellow Aubrusians sit at home all day observing other worlds through magic pools and the like. But not me. I'm off to where the news is taking place.


Watching isn't enough anymore. I want to be there--experiencing things first hand--thrilling in the moment, and shaking hands with the interesting people who keep my fellow citizens mesmerized pool-side. From now on Adonis Rep goes where the action is.


And today the action is in a small off-world town called Hauser's Landing--population: 5,321. I meet up with my interview at a cemetery, of all places.


It's a nice enough morning--a little brisk--but I've got a little spell up my sleeve to take the edge off the cold. I try to adopt the customary dress on whatever world I find myself, but these blue jean things are very constricting. I'll be glad to slip back into my robes when this is over.


Lev Walker agrees to the interview and we stroll out together to the center of a small footbridge overlooking an ice-choked river.


I'm not very big--maybe 5' 6", a buck forty--so Lev towers over me. He's about 6' 4" and fairly muscular. He's got rich blue eyes and an understated smile which I'm sure played a part in his recently kindled romance. And his hair (now, I've been blessed with a fine head of hair), but Lev's blonde locks are borderline luminescent. Actually, after spending a few minutes with him, I'm pretty sure that he does have an actual glow about him. Oh, and one more notable physical attribute: Wings. Yep--huge, white, powerful looking wings. And these things seem to be throwing off some serious heat. I take a moment to adjust the effects of my own heat spell, so I don't get the sweats during the interview.


Lev leans out over what he assures me is a brand new hand rail and gives me the nod to start the interview. I keep my distance. The rail looks sturdy enough, but he's got wings as insurance and I'm just not chancing a fall.


Adonis Rep: Hi Lev. Thanks for taking the time to answer a few questions. First things first--those wings are pretty impressive; what kind of air speed do you get with those things?



Lev Walker: I don't know. Is that important?



AR: I guess it's not so interesting to you anymore, but for those of us without. . .

Well, anyway, speed isn't everything, I suppose, even for an angel. I'm assuming music is a big part of the angelic life though right? Any musicians/bands that you can't get enough of?



LW: The classics--Mozart, Vivaldi, Linkin Park.



AR: I think I puked in my mouth a little on that last one, but you're the music expert.



Note: Thankfully Lev is easy going and not too annoyed by my jibes. He is, after all, a Sojourner, which is basically an angel of death, so it's a little nerve wracking cracking jokes on the guy's playlist. In any case, I've had my fun, and now it's time for a more serious tack.



AR: Let's talk a little bit about Elizabeth Moon. Now, I'm not one to judge, but have you ever thought that maybe seven hundred years was a bit of a stretch in terms of age gap? Talk about robbing the cradle! What can you two possibly have in common?



LW: It's my Father's fault, really. He knew I didn't like humans. So, he kept putting Elizabeth's life in my hands. For all of those years I watched her live and grow, and saw events take their natural course. When eventually her life was threatened, I had the option to interfere and save her, or I could let her die and then carry her soul to another body and start the process all over. Six times I watched her die, and each time it became harder to look her in the eye knowing how the story would end. Somewhere along the line I fell in love with her. Now, this is the seventh time and I won't let her be murdered again.



AR: That's an incredible history. But even in her current incarnation it's been a tough stretch for Elizabeth. She's got a potentially violent racist stalker, and the body of her estranged father was just discovered last night. How is she holding up?



LW: She's a survivor.



AR: Any thoughts on who her stalker might be? And is there any connection at all to the death of her father?



LW: Oh, there's definitely a connection. I'm not sure what it is yet, but I'm narrowing down the possibilities. She's got the mayor's kid watching her like a hawk. She almost died because of him and his friends. You want to talk wing speed, I probably clocked zero to eighty in two seconds to save her from that fiasco. And then there's the janitor who hates teenagers, a principal who doesn't seem all that worried about Elizabeth's well-being, and a teacher who focuses way too much on Elizabeth's race. Any of them are potential threats.



AR: Wow! Well, I wish you the best. Just a couple more questions. I'm sure you want to get back to Elizabeth, so I won't keep you much longer.

LW: Go ahead.

AR: Okay, not to knock Hauser's Landing or anything--I mean there's been plenty of action here lately at least--but really, how does a guy like you end up in a place like this?

LW: Well, let's see. It's taken me a few centuries to even like humans, let alone love one. Perhaps this is my Father's way of making me deal with them. In a small town everybody knows everybody, so it's hard to remain completely unattached.

AR: One final question for you, Lev. So, Angel of Death has got to rank right up there among the worst summer jobs of all time. Any thoughts on a career change? Maybe join the choir or something?

LW: I might, but do you have any idea about the paper work involved with a change like that?

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Check out the Sojourner series and other books by Maria Rachel Hooley at
http://www.mariarachelhooley.com/

Adonis Rep interviews are created and written by Tim Worsham
If you are an author or fan of genre fiction and would like to see one of your favorite characters interviewed, contact Tim at tcworm@hotmail.com
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