Interview with a Champion
I am so excited to be back from my first assignment for the InterFiction Gazette! They sent me deep into the Krillonian Empire to interview Jayce, a hopeful in the next Grand Imperial Cavvara Shil Tourney, and the favorite to win. It was probably the most enjoyable interview I've ever had the pleasure of holding, and I am happy to announce that the resulting article has ended my probationary period and I am now pleased and excited to be a full-fledged member of the Gazette!
Jayce lives in the fictional realm of Annie Douglass Lima's Krillonian Chronicles, the second of which has just been released! The Collar and the Cavvarach is the first book in the series, and some of you may remember hearing about it when I had Annie over for a Featured Artist Friday a little while ago. This second installment, The Gladiator and the Guard, promises to be quite exciting and both books are available for just 99 cents through May 30th!
An Interview with a Champion
I make my way up the flower-bordered path, approaching the large brick house at the far end of the lawn, where I have arranged to meet Jayce. A gardener with a steel collar around his neck glances up from pruning the rose bushes and nods in respectful greeting as I pass.
My knock is answered by a dark-skinned young man whose name-brand clothes and spotlessly clean sports shoes make him look like he could be a model for some teen fashion magazine. “Oh, hi. You must be the lady who called about interviewing me. Come on in.”
I follow him into a large living room, the furniture formal and classy. Framed pictures of Jayce at different ages look down at me from the walls. In many of them, he is holding a sword-like weapon with a hook along the top edge of the blade. Display cases full of modern sculptures interspersed with gleaming trophies circle the room.
A maid, also wearing a collar, brings us glasses of iced coffee as we sit down. “So, what did you want to know about me?” Jayce prompts. He looks as though he’s only too eager to talk about himself.
I pull out the list of questions I’ve brought. “Could you start by telling my readers a little bit about yourself?”
“Sure. I’m Jayce Torro, I’m eighteen, and, as I’m sure you know, I’m a cavvara shil champion.” He flashes a smile that has obviously been carefully practiced over the years for cameras and fans.
“What is cavvara shil, exactly? Can you describe it for us?”
The smile dissolves into a look of disbelief. “Give me a break. Cavvara shil is the most popular martial art in the Krillonian Empire, and you need it described to you?” I can tell his opinion of me has just gone way down. “Fine. Well, it involves dueling an opponent using a cavvarach. Since you obviously know nothing about it, you’d better look at the pictures.” Now he sounds as though he’s talking to a young child. He points to the sword-like weapon in one of the photographs. “The goal is to either disarm your opponent, or pin him. You can use that hook on the blade to pull his cavvarach out of his hands, or you can try to knock it away. You’re allowed to kick, too. Or you can force him to the ground and then pin his shoulders to the mat for five seconds. Basically, cavvara shil is a combination of cavvara dueling and kickfighting, but it’s much harder than either of those. Only the best of the best athletes can ever be truly good at it.” His tone suggests that he is used to people reminding him that he is one of those best of the best. “I’ve won lots of tournaments, as you can see.” He gestures to the pictures and the trophies. “And this weekend, I’m going to win the Grand Imperial Cavvara Shil Tourney. Finally! Nothing and no one is going to stand in my way this time. Definitely not some lousy collar.” He glares into his cup, and as he gulps down a swig of coffee, I can tell he is thinking of someone in particular.
My ears perk up a bit at that. "This time?" I ask him. "Have you competed in the Grand Imperial Tournament before and... lost?" I open my eyes wide in mock horror. This character amuses me, but I'm not above a little sarcasm at times.
Jayce glares at me, obviously not appreciating the sarcasm. “I’ve qualified to be in it five years in a row, which is a huge accomplishment. Most people never even get good enough to qualify. And I almost won a few years ago. I was this close to coming in first in the under sixteen boys’ category. I ended up coming in second, but that worthless collar Bensin got me disqualified.” He practically spits out the name. “So I didn’t even get the silver trophy I’d rightfully earned. Not that I wanted it anyway. I was supposed to get the gold. I will this year, though. I’m going to make sure of it.”
“Well, I wish you all the best in that. Next question: what is your most prized possession?”
“My sports car, of course. Didn’t you see it on the driveway outside? None of my friends has a car that valuable. And I got it when I was only fifteen! I bet 
you’ve never interviewed anyone else who had their own car at that age.”
“That’s impressive,” I admit. “Did you buy it yourself?”
“I didn’t have to. I got it as a reward.” His voice is smug. “My parents promised me a car if I took first place in eight tournaments in a row. Well, it was originally supposed to be six, and I won the first five. But I just barely missed winning the sixth one, which was the Grand Imperial, back when I was fourteen. It was all Bensin’s fault.” He swears. “But at least I showed him!” Righteous indignation fills Jayce’s face, but he cuts himself off as though changing his mind about telling me something. “Anyway, I had to start over, and my parents upped the number the next time, but I did win eight tournaments in a row eventually. And Bensin couldn’t even compete for months. It was pretty funny to see him hobbling around on those crutches. But I haven’t made it to the finals of the Grand Imperial since then. This weekend is going to be it.”
I tap my pen on my notepad thoughtfully. "Tell me a little more about this Bensin person. And, you've used the term 'collar' a couple of times now. Can you explain that to my readers who might not be familiar with your world? I interview people throughout the fiction-verse, you know, there are far more worlds and galaxies out there than just your own." I can't resist adding the subtle jibe; something about him makes me want to knock him down a peg. I don't know who Bensin is, but I feel myself sending him mental well-wishes!
Jayce stares broodingly into the distance. “Bensin is a slave. You know, menial labor, not much education or brains, wears a steel collar round his neck, and all that. I don’t know what people call slaves in those other worlds and galaxies of yours, but around here, we call them ‘collars’ when we want to emphasize how they aren’t worth much more than the cost of the metal they wear. I mean, it’s not like they really count as people, or anything. Anyway, Bensin trains at the West Jarreon Center for Sports and Fitness, same as I do. His owner, Steene Mayvins, is a coach there, so he trains Bensin himself. Actually, he used to be my coach, but I switched classes a few years ago to train with Markus Brinks. Coach Steene was dealing with some kind of personal problem and he just wasn’t focused on his job, and I was gearing up for the Grand Imperial and needed a coach who would get me there. So I started with Coach Markus around the same time that Steene bought Bensin. That collar and I have been rivals ever since.”
I glance down at my list of questions. “What do you fear the most?”
“Fear?” Jayce’s voice is instantly defensive. “Why would you think I’d fear anything?”
I just wait. The boy crosses his arms and glares at me again, but eventually he looks away. “Well, I’m not saying I am afraid, but if I was going to be afraid of anything, it would be of losing. Of letting my parents down again.” He fiddles with his cup. “You know, my mom did cavvara shil when she was younger, too. She’s got more trophies than I have, and more of them are gold. She won first place in the Grand Imperial for her age group when she was twelve, and then she came in second the next year, and she won again when she was fifteen. I think she always wanted a daughter to follow in her footsteps, but she got me, and all my life she and Dad have been waiting for me to do as well as she did. Every year they’ve been hoping I’ll make them proud and be the champion in the most important tournament in the empire like she was. But I never even qualified for the Grand Imperial till I was fourteen, and I never stayed in further than the third rung except that first time. And it’s harder now, because the older you get, the bigger the age brackets are, and there are a lot more talented adult fighters than kids.” He sets his glass down with a thud and clenches his fists. “But I’m going to do it this time. Coach Markus and I have been working really hard this year, harder than ever before, and I’ve done great in the tournament so far. There’s just Saturday and Sunday left. I’m going to be the champion. Nothing is going to stop me, especially not Bensin. I’ve got a plan to make sure of that.”
I hear anger, but also a hint of desperation, in his voice. Then, abruptly, Jayce seems to realize what he’s said. “I mean – I mean that I’m a better fighter than he is. At cavvara shil, of course. That’s all I’m saying. He can’t beat me, even if he makes it to the finals, which he won’t. That’s all I meant.” He shoots a quick glance my way as though to make sure I believe this.
Despite his brashness and overconfidence, I suddenly find myself feeling almost sorry for this kid. I stare at my list of questions but can't read any of the words I have written there. "So there's a lot of pressure from your family, huh?" I ask, going completely off script. "Is it all about this competition in your house, or is there time for having fun as a family?"
“Competition is fun. My parents come to as many of my tournaments as they can, when they don’t have to work. They’re both pretty busy most of the time. But whenever I win, even if they weren’t there, they let me invite over all the friends I want for a party, and they pay for the catering and the DJ and everything. We’ve got the pool out back, so it’s always lots of fun. They always make sure they’re not here for that, so no one has to feel awkward with adults hanging around watching us, you know? My parents are cool that way.”
“Okay, one more question. How do you feel about your author and your role in this story?”
Jayce shrugs. “I guess that depends on what happens between now and Sunday. How things turn out. I mean, in the tournament, of course – and, well, 
anything that might happen in between. I’m not saying anything in particular is going to happen, but you know. It’s my turn for a happy ending this time. She gave that worthless collar my happy ending in the last book, so I definitely deserve it now. Not that I haven’t deserved it for a long time. I mean, Bensin’s a slave and a criminal. Did you hear how he broke the law trying to help his sister escape, back when they were younger? So why would anyone in their right mind care what happens to him? I’m the one with all the fans. I’ve got more friends than he’ll ever have, and more money, and more of everything that counts in life. So if you talk to that author, just tell her that it would make a lot more sense to have me win.”
He swallows the last of his iced coffee. “Did you want me to autograph anything for you before you leave?”
Well, Jayce was certainly an interesting character to interview. I'm not sure what I think of him, a part of me is rooting for this Bensin, but another part of me just feels sorry for Jayce. I'm definitely going to have to read these books to find out more!
If you'd like to learn more about Annie Douglass Lima and her books, you can connect with her online at:
Email: AnnieDouglassLima@gmail.com
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