#interviewwithpyndrah

[inkdrippingscales]

Interview with Pyndrah

"An interview I conducted with myself for personal development. I wanted to cement my own personality in my writing and had fun with writing in second person. It felt right for the content. I hope you enjoyed getting to know be a bit better!"

CONTENT:

No depictions of adult content, sfw, soul binding, octopi, ink, magic, dragons, arrogance, and snark.

You found yourself in an unfamiliar place. Populated, to be sure, but somehow enchanted. At the first door you enter, the smells of parchment and wood assault your nostrils, pairing nicely with the warm, wooden atmosphere.

A green-haired woman with curled black horns was already sitting down in a mostly wooden room. She rested upon a heavily cushioned armchair, and when she noticed you, she looked up from her hands, busy at a small chair-side table, and spoke in a rehearsed, almost bored cadence, “Hello, and welcome. You are to know me as Pyndrah, Scale-Scribe, Writer of Fates and Destinies, and World-Maker. I humbly ask, if you do plan to stay long within my library, that you be gentle with my books. Please do not enter my study unless invited.”

Pyndrah returned to her task, attending to replacing the brassy-yellow nibs of her pens. Yet, that introduction wasn’t quite enough, was it? Or maybe it was just a tad too pompous for your taste. Yeah! A little self-important, Miss Pendragon or whatever called herself! You decide to strike up a conversation with her, “A… Scale … fate…? What’s that?” Oh yeah. Got her good with that one.

The draconic creature turned her emerald eyes back upon you, “Ah. Hmm. You’re new… here? Whatever the case, you are unfamiliar with my work. A Scale-Scribe, A dragon that works with ink, as opposed to what you might expect from dragons and their,”  she paused, thinking for a moment, “‘breathing.’” The emphasis on the word had an edge to it, like it was lesser, in some way.

“Oh, so like, black dragons… breathe ink?” You ask, mayhap a tad too confidently.

“A skull dragon? No, I’m nothing of the sort, surely,” she retorts, “though we do share a similar chromatic origin, they breathe acid. My ‘acid breath’ is far less dangerous… but far more sought after.”

Duh, of course they’re a special black dragon, you should have known that! Right? “What’s so special about ink breath, then?” It does seem a bit messy, and far less effective than fire, or acid. Weren’t there also dragons that could breathe ice and lighting? An amusing idea of Pyndrah battling octopi with ink breath crosses your mind… You should keep these thoughts to yourself.

Ignoring the rude way in which you asked that, Pyndrah politely answers you, “My ink is magical. Much as most dragon breath is. In small doses, I can perfectly catalog your memory of an event, as it happened, and with the emotional impact it had on you. Reading over the manuscripts I create is like reliving the memory transcribed. Smells, imagery, temperature… all of it.” Pyndrah had set her pens down now, focused on answering your questions. You believe she likes to hear herself talk or look smart. She continued, “Some seek that ability to record a history or preserve a precious moment. This is what it means to be a Scale-Scribe.”

Pyndrah continued her explanation, “With a stronger flow, I can spread out your entire history and future, like a beautiful novel, full of choices, paths, and important moments. Once a person is recorded, I can edit their past and future. Change mistakes, plan a future, and explore alternative lives. This is what it means to be a Writer of Fates and Destinies.” Her eyes fell from you again, and she began saving the pens she had repaired, placing them inside a cushioned case.

You realize she forgot one of her auspicious titles, and in the silence, she realizes you are waiting for her to continue. Defeated, she sighs softly, the edge to her voice weakening some, and a flushness pressed against her cheeks—blushing? “I also write stories with my ink… and they become real and true, a new universe to live in, if fostered correctly.” She curtly added, “World maker.” She took another long pause, “World-making requires souls, though, to bind a being to the story, and allows them to inhabit the world we create together." She seemed ready to be done, but you cannot help but smile warmly at the shattering of her little icy show.