Interview with the Night Guard

Welcome to a small cabin in the thick woods of an unknown land. Somehow, author Madisyn Carlin has managed to gather the entire Night Guard into the cabin to your left, and convinced them to answer the questions I have provided.

Enter the cottage and observe the following at your own discretion.

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*The cabin door creaks open, revealing the seven characters seated around a small table.*

What was the Night Guard’s first mission together? 

All eyes turn to Marcus, who releases a slow exhale as tension furrows his features. “It was a rescue,” he says. “A hostage situation. A Coastlands noble’s daughter was kidnapped. Unless her father aligned with the enemy, they would slay her. The mission was successful, but definitely not the first of its kind.”

Which one of you would emerge victorious in a fight? Wits or fists?

Vladic grins. “I would win in the wits department. With fists? I think MacLean.”

Arioch scowls. “I would win with wits. Vladic’s the only one who thinks he has good comebacks.”

“Stop lying. It doesn’t become you. Of course I’m better at it than you. Always have been. A dead slug had more wits than you.”

Loren shakes his head as the two continue squabbling. “This has been the recurring debate since they first met. There was even a battle of wits.” He sighs. “They’ll be bickering about this until they’re dead. Regarding fists, I’d say MacLean, then Marcus.”

Barrett and Naturo nod in agreement, and Marcus remains quiet as MacLean shrugs. “They’re probably right, but Marcus would give me quite the fight if we did duke it out.”

Vladic and Arioch remain quarreling.

Marcus, if you had the option to never have to sleep again, or never have to eat again, which would you choose? Why?

Marcus’ jaw ticks as he stares at the scarred tabletop. “I’d rather never have to sleep again. If you don’t sleep, you can’t experience nightmares.”

What was the last gift any of you gave someone?

Arioch pauses his debate with Vladic to smirk. “I gave Snow White a bath. In breadcrumbs and gravy.” When Barrett glares at him, he holds up his hands. “Fine, fine. That’s what I’d like to do. The real last gift I’ve given is I cleared a garden plot for Anthi.”

“While giving her heart failure,” Barrett mutters.

“I didn’t mean to get bitten by that snake. How was I supposed to know it was there?”

“The snake was light green. The dirt was brown.”

Arioch huffs. “The snake was dirty.”

Barrett shakes his head. “Unlike Arioch, I wasn’t giving my lovely bride heart failure. I was helping her build a coop for the new goslings she recently acquired.”

“Wait, wait. More geese? Is Zin out of her mind?” Arioch bolts from his chair and darts toward the door, like Barrett brought the goslings with him and planned to sneak-attack unleash them on Arioch.

“Stop being so dramatic. You should be flattered—we named one after you. He has your same boorish disposition.”

Arioch scowls.

The attention moves from the geese-hating Wildlander to Naturo, who shrugs. “I taught Esmarie the rudiments of checkers. It kept her occupied for all of five minutes. I have no idea where she gets all her energy.”

The other four pipe in, beginning with MacLean, who says he helped his cousin, Sevenie, hunt for herbs. “That woman is relentless. No leaf or blade of grass is spared from her scrutiny. We can’t leave until she’s inspected everything.”

Loren says he gifted his brother-in-law’s cousin, Kor, a book on medicines and herbs. “Unlike Tandri, he actually wants to learn. I think his parents are grateful to at least have one sane child. That Tandri is a tornado with attitude.”

Vladic smirks when everyone looks at him. “I surprised Father with a trained falcon.”

“If you’re the one who trained it, the poor thing is mentally ruined.” Arioch smirks at Vladic’s scowl.

Marcus doesn’t provide an answer, instead electing to withdraw even further. 

Vladic, what is the worst decision you have ever made?

“That’s easy. My worst decision was when I agreed to work with this witless worm.” Vladic jabs a finger in Arioch’s direction. He sobers then, losing all joviality. “Honestly, my worst decision changes whenever I think about it. If you ask any of us, I can guarantee we’ll tell you our worst decisions were made during the All Lands War. Thinking a burning building was cleared when people were actually still trapped in there, deciding to walk the horses instead of keeping them trotting, which resulted in arriving too late to save towns and villages…”

He shakes his head. “That’s when my worst decisions were made. And I doubt I’ll ever forget them—or what could have happened if I’d just made the right choice instead.”

What was the Night Guard’s overall worst mission they ever went on?

“I don’t think there was just one.” MacLean’s gaze turns distant. “There were so many when we arrived just in time to watch the inhabitants be slaughtered.”

Naturo leans his elbows on the table. “There was one time where there were so many slain innocents, we had to dig mass graves. That haunts me the most. We couldn’t even give them the courtesy of gravestones.”

Silence settles, and for a moment, each man is lost in the horrific memories of war.

How old are each of you, currently?

Loren squints. “I think MacLean is 25, Marcus and Naturo are 24, Arioch, Vladic, and I are 23, and Barrett is the baby at 22.”

Barrett, what would you do if someone gave you hot chocolate?

Barrett rubs his hands. “The author did allow me to try hot chocolate, and it’s great. I wish we had it in the lands because I think I’d have some every day.”

“Who says we don’t have it?” Naturo only offers a sly grin when Barrett gapes at him.

“Wait, what? You’ve known about it all this time and haven’t told me?” 

“You become as hyper as Esmarie when you consume sugar. So, yes. I’ve known and haven’t told you.”

What do each of you think would be a fitting epitaph on your gravestone?

“I know the perfect one for Arioch,” Vladic offers. “It’d be, ‘Spoke first, thought later’.”

“You’re positively hilarious,” Arioch growls.

“I know. I’m so funny.”

“You’re so annoying, is what you mean.”

“No, I meant what I said. I’m hilarious.”

Arioch rolls his eyes. “Vladic’s would be something about pride before a fall.”

“Nonsense. Mine would be, ‘Died from dealing with Arioch en Kyrida, the most irritating man the world ever knew.’”

Loren shakes his head as the two again begin arguing. “Mine would likely say I died from one of Tandri’s pranks. The last time she visited, I think my heart almost failed. Numerous times.”

Barrett, MacLean, and Naturo each want something similar for theirs: a protector, loving son and husband, and caring father. Although neither MacLean and Naturo are yet married—or have any marital prospects in mind—they warily mention their author promised them that would one day change. 

Once more, everyone looks to Marcus. His expression is blank, but he says in a quiet tone, “I hope mine will have something about redemption on it.”

Loren, what is your favorite type of poison?

Loren turns a bit green. “I don’t have a favorite, but I suppose my preference depends on why I’m using it. Some have painful side effects and others less so. There are different levels of toxicity, as well, with the lowest level being a rash and the worst level being, well, death. I will say to watch out for water hemlock, wolfsbane, and foxglove. Honestly,  I prefer to heal instead of kill.”

How long was the Night Guard around for before—you know what—?

Naturo clears his throat as he becomes the center of attention. “My father founded the Night Guard within the first few months of war.”

Can any of you tell an actual joke?

“I can! I can tell plenty of quality jokes.”

Arioch chortles. “No, Vladic, you can’t. You don’t have enough humor to fill a spec of dirt. I’m the one who can tell an actual joke.”

“Neither of you are capable of such a feat,” MacLean says wryly.

MacLean, why did you throw your boot at Arioch?

“He put a snake in there.” 

Arioch snickers. “It was hilarious.”

MacLean holds himself with what can only be described as suffering dignity. “I’ll admit it’s common knowledge that I dislike snakes. I did not realize others would use that to be immature, puerile miscreants.”

“I’m not a miscreant.”

“Arioch, you’re the definition of miscreant.”

Naturo, what is the scariest thing you have ever done for fun?

Naturo twitches. “My many apologies, but I don’t see how scariest and fun can be in the same sentence. Unlike Arioch and Vladic, who enjoy endangering themselves, I prefer safety. However, the closest answer I can provide is one time I had to climb a ship’s mast to get to the crow nest, where Esmarie managed to get herself stuck. How she scaled that, I haven’t an idea because she was five at the time. I will admit the view was spectacular.”

What’s the most useless talent each of you have?

Arioch sends MacLean a sly grin. “MacLean’s is throwing boots.”

“I am beginning to realize I should have thrown mine harder. Maybe that would have put a permanent dent in your skull and knocked some common sense into that withered mind of yours.” MacLean scowls at Arioch.

“Arioch’s is getting himself into trouble,” Vladic offers.

“Hilarious. I was about to say the same about you.”

Barrett kypes the pot of hot chocolate resting on the countertop and pours himself a large cup. “I think Naturo’s most useless talent is whistling. Mine would be drinking an entire keg of this stuff.”

“He’s right,” Naturo admits. “I can whistle, but I can’t seem to teach my horse to come when I call for him. It doesn’t work on Esmarie, either.”

“Mine has to be the ability of putting up with some of the Snowland nobles,” Loren says. “They think that just because I don’t threaten to put tar in their shoes—something Breac did last time he and Layree visited—means I want to listen to them whine and complain and gripe for twenty-four hours straight.”

Marcus taps his fingers against the counter. “I don’t know that I would say any talent is completely useless, unless you’re talking about Arioch and Vladic’s. That is useless.”

Arioch, have you ever screwed everything up, but no one ever found out it was you?

Arioch eyes the door like it’s time for him to escape. “Do you really want me to reveal my secrets? Because I can guarantee I won’t survive.”

“What did you do?” Loren eyes Arioch.

“Nothing.”

“You forget I’m related to Tandri Morolli. No amount of shiftiness can conceal your misbehavior.”

“I wouldn’t say I misbehaved, per say…”

Loren raises a brow.

Arioch coughs. “Do you all remember that one time when the stew was too salty.”

“Too salty? That doesn’t come close to describing how much sodium was in there.” Naturo shudders. “It made the sea taste like freshwater.”

“Yeah, well. Vladic took the blame for it, but I, uh, that was my fault. I was on dinner duty that day and mistook the salt for the flour.”

“And you let me be blamed for it all these years?” Vladic cracks his knuckles. “I ought to subject you to one of Mrs. Umphleton’s knitting lectures before feeding you to the ants.”

Arioch inches back. “That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“You almost killed us with sodium overload,” Loren says in the wryest tone possible. “So, no. I don’t think Vladic’s revenge is a bit extreme.”

Marcus hates seafood… what foods do the rest of you hate?

“Fried snake,” Barrett promptly responds. “Unlike most, I don’t think it tastes like chicken. Of course, that could be because Vladic cooked it.”

“Hey! I’m a good chef.”

“I’m sure vultures would think so.”

Loren blanches. “Cooked spinach. It has amazing health benefits, but I just can’t stomach it. Especially when it’s boiled.”

“Fried eggs,” Naturo says. He shrugs when the others stare at him. “What? I think they taste disgusting. Scrambled eggs are good, but fried ones taste like leather.”

Arioch turns green. “Fried grasshoppers. I had to eat some while visiting another Wildland tribe with Father. It’s their custom and they think fried grasshoppers are delicacies. I swear those bugs were still alive and hopping when I swallowed them.”

Vladic shudders. “Squirrel. Others enjoy it, and it’s a common dish in the Forestlands, but I just can’t. Not even the threat of tripled chores could convince me to eat it when I was young.”

“I’m with Vladic,” MacLean says. “Squirrel taste disgusting.”

What would you do to get these questions to stop?

“Our author said we had to answer whatever you asked us,” Arioch glumly replies. “We also, in her words, have to be ‘perfect gentlemen’. I told her we already are, but she just gave me a look and said to behave. Don’t get me wrong, Miss Lucy. I’d still be a gentleman even if I was irritated with the amount of questions. Mor raised me better than that.”

“What Arioch is saying is you can ask away,” Naturo says. “I believe the other part of the author’s threat was she’d force anyone who acted out to endure three months of etiquette lessons from Esmarie’s tutor. As you can see, that was an adequate threat, although Vladic and Arioch pushed their luck a few times.”