The Backrooms

M.E.G. Official Interview Transcript:
Date: 02/06/2021
Interviewer: Dawn Marchesa
Interviewee: Blanche Von Haderach

Dawn: Let 's begin, Blanche. There’s no need to be nervous, okay? I’ve heard you tell so many stories, and I’ve seen how many tales you've collected… but all I want now is for you to tell me your story, nothing more.

Blanche: Very well… if you insist.

Blanche: I used to live in a world not too different from your own, Dawn. The specifics of it aren’t relevant, but I hailed from a wealthy family, and in that world I started what would one day become the Cygnus Archive, a humble library in a rather hidden street. There were few visitors, not that I really minded it. The few visitors I did get were lovely people whom I still hold dear to this very day.

Dawn: How long ago was this, Blanche?

Blanche: Around… 150 years ago.

Dawn: Mind telling me more about your time in that world?

Blanche: I had some wonderful guests… Sylvie and Romain were quite the lovely pair. I remember having to provide refuge to them in my library plenty of times, they always were a troublesome duo. Do note that they were mischievous, yes, but still very polite. They simply wanted to make their world a better place, and they ended up being the faces of a revolution.

Dawn: Blanche, you’re kind of deviating from the to-

Blanche: I also met a wonderful gentleman by the name of Cristoph Von Haderach, a baron, a former soldier, a diplomat, and a truly lovely man… he treated me very well. I’ll admit, I admired his resolve, his determination… I admired him. I… loved him, in a way. Platonically. Truly a shame he passed away so young… Oh, my, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get sidetracked…

Dawn: It’s okay, Blanche, just keep going.

Blanche: I confess, I miss those times a little bit. I miss my smaller library, I miss getting involved in human politics. Those were simpler times, I suppose, but I found myself in this realm, and while it has been an overall pleasant experience, I can’t help but to wonder what could have been, had I stayed there.

Dawn: Blanche, while this sounds like a very interesting story… is it truly yours?

Blanche: …Yes, this is the story of Blanche Von Hadearch.

Dawn: Right, but you are, biologically, not a human. Which means something's off.

Blanche: …

Dawn: What are you?

Blanche: I have been many things, dear. I'll be glad to share my stories with you.

Dawn: I'll listen, Blanche, like I've always done, but keep in mind why we're having this interview.

Blanche: Where should I start… I suppose you could call me an actress, with all the roles I have played… I once was a queen, a fairy, a sorceress, a nymph, a god, and so, so much more. I was once the night sky, can you imagine such a thing?

Dawn: Seems we're in for a long interview. Can I have some more tea?

Blanche: Of course, dear. If you'll allow me a moment…

Dawn: Thanks, Blanche. Back to the questions. I'd like to ask you a few things about your capabilities.

Blanche: Capabilities?

Dawn: The psychic kind. Out of all the entities we've ran into so far, none can interact with the mind like you do.

Blanche: Well, I'll admit I am a little flattered…

Dawn: There's a ton of reports of people who've visited you. Most of them mention telepathy and telekinesis, claiming you're able to read others' thoughts and move objects around you with seemingly no motions whatsoever. Got anything to say about that?

Blanche: There's no use in denying it. You know it to be true, I had told you so. I suppose you ask this question simply so it gets recorded in those interview logs of yours.

Dawn: Do you mind telling me how that works?

Blanche: I'm afraid I cannot disclose such information, dear.

Dawn: We'll come back to that question later.

Blanche: I see… my apologies.

Dawn: It's okay, Blanche, it's alright. Answer only if you're comfortable enough, okay?

Blanche: Very well.

Dawn: Okay, moving past that… about that portrait of you over there. That's signed by A. River, correct?

Blanche: Correct. It was drawn by hir.

Dawn: Yeah. Here's the thing I don't get. The date on it, that's way after the date River disappeared.

Blanche: I assume you'd want an explanation of sorts. Do any of those reports on my "capabilities" mention anything about dreams, my dear?

Dawn: There are people who claim to have talked to you in dreams, and that you somehow retained memory of that conversation.

Blanche: Tell me, are you familiar with Light Guides?

Dawn: Yup. Saved my ass a handful of times.

Blanche: …language aside, what you call Light Guides are actually dreams given a physical form. Through extensive research and studying, I've developed a way to enter those dreams.

Dawn: Wait, so-

Blanche: Yes. When you dreamt of your old life, serving drinks at your bar… the "Black Swan," was it? It truly was me sitting at the table. I must say, it seemed quite the lovely place, and the drink you served me was indeed pleasant. Once we're done with the interview, I'd like to ask for a recipe.

Dawn: I'm- Blanche, that's- a little intrusive, don't you think? I don't mind the visit, but what if you had walked into a weird dream or a nightmare?

Blanche: It is not often that I get such chances to enter one's dreams. While I apologize for my rudeness and any discomfort it may had caused, I hope you can understand that I could not afford to let that opportunity to go to waste.

Dawn: So if I was having a nightmare, would you still have popped in to see what my fears are or…

Blanche: Of course not, dear. You know how important the privacy of my guests is. Besides, I have learned how to leave a pleasant dream to those I visit. It's a little gesture of kindness from me, in a sense.

Dawn: Let me see if I got that right. In addition to everything else you already do for everyone, you also go around distributing nice dreams?

Blanche: Life is too short to be mourning the bad things, and I feel like we could all use some more joyful moments.

Dawn: Has anyone ever told you that you have motherly vibes?

Blanche: Is that question part of the interview?

Dawn: Well, it is now.

Blanche: (chuckle) Yes, I have been told that, and other similar things plenty of times, despite never actually having a child of my own.

Dawn: I don't know, you just… care so much about everyone, I suppose. It's good to know that regardless of what happens on the outside, I can always count on you for a good time.

Blanche: I'm very glad to hear that, Dawn.

Dawn: I can't help but to wonder, though… I've learnt that the people who're always there for others rarely have someone they can go to. Surely, you too have your struggles, but… I'm kind of worried you're trying to carry one hell of a burden alone.

Blanche: I appreciate the concern, my dear, but you need not worry. I'm more than capable of handling my duties by myself.

Dawn: If you say so… moving on to the next question: Where'd you get all these books?

Blanche: Well, a portion of them were written by me. They contain the stories of my guests' lives, their memories preserved on paper. Some of them contain my research on various topics. The vast majority of my books, however, are not authored by me. I've amassed quite a lofty collection over the ages, and even to this very day new books keep appearing in my library, much to my surprise.

Dawn: Any clue as to where those come from?

Blanche: I believe they phase into my shelves from other levels of the Backrooms, and from what you call the Frontrooms, too. I've spent countless hours reading all sorts of stories, writing some of my own, and archiving each and every document I've come across.

Dawn: Are of those stories yours? Like, are they about your past?

Blanche: While I do not have a complete autobiography, there are many books and stories that are quite relevant to my past. Come to think of it, perhaps I should write an autobiography sometime.

Dawn: So, which of those stories do you want to tell first?

Blanche: I'm not quite sure I follow, dear.

Dawn: I'd like to know more about your past, if possible.

Blanche: I see… so many options… I suppose I'll start with the more recent books, those ought to be easier to find…

Dawn: Alright, you can pick whichever you'd like, really.

Blanche: Very well. If you'll allow me a moment, I'll go fetch the volume for our next story.

Dawn: Can't you just summon those books here? There's no need for you to even leave your seat.

Blanche: Oh, silly me… force of habit, I suppose.

Dawn: It's okay.

Blanche: I’ve taken the liberty of only grabbing some of my personal favourites… I feel I’d be taking too much of your time if I were to tell you every single one of my tales…

Dawn: I’ve got time, Blanche.

Blanche: I don’t think it is humanly possible to have the kind of time I'm referring to, dear.

Dawn: I can’t shake the feeling that you’re dancing around the topic, Blanche. There’s no need to be nervous, okay? It’s just another interview.

Blanche: Do keep in mind that I’m more used to being the one asking the questions…

Dawn: It’s good to push yourself out of your comfort zone sometimes.

Blanche: You are correct… I suppose. Very well. Let us get to our story, shall we?

Dawn: I’m all ears, Blanche.

Blanche: Once upon a time, in a distant world where gods walked among men, there was a coastal village, Krenos, and through their wishes for safe travel, a god was born. Her name was Khari, and she became the god of journeys. Mortals prayed to her for a safe return, and for some time, she blessed every boat, every horse, every road, and all of those who wandered the land by foot. The inhabitants of Krenos built a temple for her, where she lived for many, many years.

Dawn: Were you this “Khari”?

Blanche: Patience, my dear. As is usual in matters of faith and beliefs, the power of these “gods” is directly tied to the people’s devotion. Khari’s following was growing at a steady rate, and this caught the eye of some other gods, most notably Vulsheos, the Forger of the World, and the first of the gods. Their doubts and suspicions tainted their power, and they could no longer sculpt the landscape at a mere whim. These doubts soon gave room to lust, and worst, to rage. On Khari’s sacred day, Vulsheos walked to the village of Krenos, and Khari welcomed them like a brother to her home, but, with their vision clouded by their fury, Vulsheos saw only a lesser god that would not bow.. and on that day the Forger’s iron will fell prey to their envy.

Dawn: What happened?

Blanche: On that day, the Forger unmade their greatest work. The world was torn in half. Ruins were all that remained of Krenos. The clouded seas were severed from mortal reach. Khari, banished, stripped of her followers, cursed Vulsheos’s rage. Without the god of journeys’ blessings, travelers rarely made it to their destination, nations fell apart, cities were isolated and villages were left to fend for themselves. The other gods were stuck in conflict, tending only to their sacred cities. Some stood in defense of their followers, others sowed chaos where they saw fit…

Dawn: A planet torn in half?

Blanche: Correct. Khari, staring at the ruins of her temple, the ruins of the town she called her home, walked to the molten core of the world, and shaped those lands into her new domain. The sun and the moon, on their journey around the world, would tell her tales of the mortal realm, plagued by tragedy, disaster and discord, and with every tale, she wept, and her tears became a river that circled her new home. One day, she decided that if Vulsheos would not allow her to walk among the living, then she would grant them a safe passage one final time, and so, Azkhari, God of the Underworld and protector of spirits was born.

Dawn: What happened to that Forger guy?

Blanche: Vulsheos? Upon staring at what they had done, guilt and regret took over their mind. They shaped Mount Oyakros, the tallest of peaks, and took it upon themself to hold it for years, as both a form of self-imposed punishment and a way to reflect on their act as to figure out a course of action. Vulsheos decided they would quell the conflicts among gods, walking the world by themself to settle their disputes. Somewhere during their travels, a mortal asked the Forger a simple question. “What became of Khari?” Vulsheos could not answer. They walked to the ruins of Krenos, and crossed the river of Azkhari’s tears. They found Azkhari welcoming the spirits of the dead to her realm. Vulsheos, equally amazed and filled with regret, kneeled before her, offering to make up for their wrongdoings. Gazing at the Underworld, at what Azkhari had built, Vulsheos saw only one way to make amends. They called upon the other gods, and together, they shaped the Underworld into what it is now, welcoming Azkhari to the pantheon.

Dawn: Sounds like a happy ending.

Blanche: To this very day, mortals travel to the ruins of Iremos to send off their dead on a small shrine to Azkhari. As time passed, plenty of new gods were born, and those who wander that world have someone else to bless their journeys… if I recall correctly, her name is Sahyra. To answer your earlier question, though, yes. I was Khari. I was Azkhari, too, and I still am.

Dawn: Woah, slow down a second. What do you mean “I still am?”

Blanche: …

Blanche: “Azkhari” did not cease to exist when I- no, when “Blanche” was born.

Dawn: I don’t think I follow, Blanche.

Blanche: If you’ll allow me a moment…

Dawn: The hell is happening?

?????: My apologies for the rather sudden change in environment, Dawn. I’m sure you have plenty of questions, but for now, I’d like you to return to your seat.

Dawn: Blanche? Is that you?

?????: Not quite. Although “Blanche” and I are the same being, we are… two different chapters of the same book. I’ve been watching you and her interact, have your lovely little chats and cups of tea.

Dawn: Just who are you, then?

?????: I have gone by many names, but you may continue to call me “Blanche”, it is not incorrect to do so. I do have a name, but it is long forgotten, and it is one I’d rather not share. Allow me to tell you another story.

Dawn: Okay…

?????: Once upon a time, there was a wonderful distant world known as Ard Nu’yr. The people of that world lived peacefully, worshipping a deity known as Vashaya, the Lady of the Moon. One day, the Beast appeared in the skies. It blacked out the sun, shifted the tides, parted the skies, and it is said that many perished from merely gazing upon it. The priests of Ard Nu’yr quickly sealed the Beast in the only prison large enough to contain the massive monster, the planet’s moon, Seakras. According to legend, Vashaya fought the Beast for a hundred years, and after an arduous battle, she vanquished the Beast and descended from her home in the moon, arriving at the top of the Silver Peak, where she watches over the people of Ard Nu'yr.

Dawn: Why are you telling me this?

?????: Because this story, much like myself, varies greatly with perspective. What you just heard was the first chapter of the Book of the Moon, and the events described were told from the perspective of the people of Ard Nu'yr. From my perspective, however, things are quite different. I was the Beast. I'll admit, I was quite impressed when the priests sealed me in the moon. I could escape quite easily, but my curiosity spoke louder. A small part of me descended upon the surface, silently observing the people who performed such a feat. I learned of the myth of Vashaya, and decided to take her form, descending upon Ard Nu'yr to learn more. That was the first of my many, many roles, and one I still hold quite dear. Each and every other role follows this same principle. They are the means by which I can manifest myself in a way others can safely interact with. While this process requires immense self-restraint on my part, it has proven to be more than worth the hassle, for the knowledge and stories I have gathered are far more valuable than what I could have predicted.

Dawn: So… let me see if I got this right. You are some sort of being far beyond my comprehension, of immense power, and you're using it to have chats over tea?

Blanche: Correct. I've spent countless millennia moving ever so slowly down this path, learning how to be human.

Dawn: …what just happened? What were all those stars?

Blanche: What you just witnessed, Dawn, was the closest you'll ever see to my fullest. Or so I hope, at least. You've certainly heard of the infamous "Beyond."

Dawn: Was… was that it?

Blanche: Not quite. The so-called "Beyond" is who I truly am. A hideous form far beyond human comprehension, capable of shattering minds at a mere glance. Over the course of my lives, I've taken countless precautions as to avoid causing any harm. These precautions require me to exert tremendous restraint on myself. While they have proven quite effective, I am not perfect, and sometimes… I slip up.

Dawn: Blanche, are you… crying?

Blanche: I- Forgive me. What you saw was one of my earliest forms. A massive, bird-like deity that brought nightfall with it. According to legend, every night it would cover the world under it's starry wings, departing on the next day to it's nest, somewhere beyond the sky.

Dawn: Care to tell me more about it?

Blanche: I apologize, but I cannot go into any further details now. As much as I'd love to continue chatting, my dear, It is too dangerous to do so… You have seen far more than most, if not all of my guests do. I cannot risk harming you. Farewell, Dawn… and take this pendant with you.