1. What is your favorite word and why?
"Justice. It's such an easy word, helps you decide what to do, or absolves you if you've been up to something questionable. It has power, that word. After all, what worth has the life of the criminal? What worth has a mother's love if your son is a necromancer?"
There's a fierce, vaguely threathening grin on her face, and a far away look in her eyes, as if intensely focused on something not in the room.
2. What is your least favorite word and why?
"Safety. The world is allowed to kill you. There's no intristic reason why you and me aren't going to die. In fact, it's pretty much guaranteed that we will. To think yourself safe is to fall prey to an illusion that'll curtail your potential. Indeed, the reason we fail to stand up against injustice, and fail to make an impact on the shape of the world is that we're holding on to the illusion of safety. To truly become something, we must first realise that we are not safe, and that we never will be."
Some thought or feeling flashes across her face. She pauses. "That is not to say that I'd ask anyone but myself to reject the illusion. It's... probably not the path to a happyness, staring into the pit. But then again, I wouldn't tell anyone who seeks as I seek to turn back either, no matter who they are."
3. What is your biggest regret?
"That's it for the easy ones, huh? I guess I sometimes wonder how life would've been if I'd grown up in a village in a quiet place, working the earth, falling in lo..." She pauses, shaken. "Huh. I guess there is something... Years ago, I danced on a scene at the mid-summer festival. Savera was so incensed with me that I was showing off like that." She smiled at the memory. "There was a young man there, watching the show. I remember he had his sleeves rolled up." She blushes furiously. "And his eyes. He had kind eyes. I... I wish I'd spoken to him before I left."
4. As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
"I wanted to be a cultist. Not just any cultist, mind; I wanted to be the priest. Most of us children did. He had it all, or so it seemed back then. Power, admiration, the respect of the community. In our world, he was nobility, the spiritual and political leader of everyone who mattered."
5. If you had one wish, what would it be?
"I'd want to make life better for everyone. How to go about it in a single swoop is a quandery I'm not sure that I'm equipped to answer. Abolish war? War is instrumental in change, and change is neccesary for improvement. Strip evil from the hearts of mortalkind, perhaps?"
In the end it doesn't matter. No deity has the power to fulfill the sort of wish a question like that merits. Or perhaps they merely choose not to do so, out of respect for our freedom. The world would be the same for the difference."