Interview with a Genasi: Part One

“That’s how you know it’s true! I could never put that in a book. Too unlikely!”

– Varric Tethras: Dragon Age

Waiting is the hardest Part…

When I initially reached out to this strange, foreign creature, asking for an interview with him, I wasn’t sure of the response I’d receive. I wanted to do something special for the site. I had heard from my sources that he was either full-on xenophobic or just very much anti-human. Even now, I can’t wholly articulate the measure of the surprise I felt when he agreed.

For hours I paced around the house, waiting for him to arrive. I was nervous, for sure. This was the first time I’d be speaking in person with a Water Genasi. I wasn’t sure what to expect. The protocol for speaking to a creature such as this one wasn’t to be found anywhere on the internet. Even Google seemed to lack the answers I required. Did I look him in the eye, or did I avoid his gaze? Would he be offended if I shook his hand, or would it be impolite to not attempt at all? Should I offer him water, tea or coffee? The opportunities to make a fool of myself were endless. If I fucked up this interview, I knew I’d never get this chance again.

Warming Up…

At half-past ten in the morning there came a knock at the door. As I peered through the window, I saw him for the first time. In the cold winters air, the moisture on his skin appeared to be crystalizing, and I witnessed him shaking like a leaf. Remembering my manners, I flung open the door and quickly invited him in.

“I’m sorry, sir! Please come in!” I motioned. The Water Genasi entered the house, shaking his head in annoyance. His hair began to thaw quickly in the warmth of the house, beads of water landing on the floor. He was tall—over 6 feet tall. Unexpectedly I found him to look remarkably human and had I not been less than three feet from him, I may have missed the fish-like scales that adorned his skin.

“I do not know how you humans can stand such temperatures.” He pronounced in a strange French accent. I was dumbstruck. The bright blues and greens of his skin were mesmerizing, and I found my mouth agape with awe. It didn’t take long for him to notice. “Monsieur, it is my understanding that you human’s find it impolite to stare, is that not so?”

He was right, of course. “I’m sorry, you’re right. That was rude of me. Accept my apologies, please?”

The Water Genasi shrugged. His large, dark eyes scanned my living room, stopping when he saw the fish tank nearest my desk. He sighed. “Really?” He asked, rhetorically.

“Oh…” I gulped. “I didn’t consider that you might find that offensive. I’m so sorry! I can—I can arrange to have them returned to their natural habitat if you’d prefer—”

The Genasi smiled and laughed, slapping me playfully on the back. “Mon Ami, will you be so easy to rattle? This may be fun, after all.”

I was taken aback momentarily. My contacts had not mentioned a sense of humour. Still, I was interacting with a new race, and I knew I’d have to be careful. Anything I said, or did, could be taken out of context. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, sir. Would you like to sit down?” I motioned towards the couch.

Ignoring me, he bent down in front of the aquarium, watching the fish as they swam in front of the glass. “You mentioned previously you have questions for me, non?” He asked.

Boiling Point…

Like any good reporter would, I allowed him to set the pace for the beginning of the interview, hoping it would put him at ease. As I walked towards the couch, I retrieved my voice recorder from my bag, turning it on before placing it on a table between us. “I hope you don’t mind I record this?” I asked. “My name is AJ Jones, and today is the first of December, twenty-nineteen. My guest today is Trench Du’Marianas, a Water Genasi. Hello, Mr. Du’Marianas, thank you for joining me today.”

Like a sudden storm appearing on the ocean, his demeanour changed. Within half a second he whirled around, kicking me in the chest, knocking me back against the arm of my couch. When the pain subsided enough for me to open my eyes, I found the point of a short blade pressed snug against my throat below my chin. The metal protruded from the butt end of a long, solid fishing pole. Had I not been pinned, I might have been impressed.

“Who are you?!” He demanded. “Did he send you!? Tell me, you wretched human cur, or I will gut you like this morning’s catch!”

To be continued…

Spread the love

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *