Deus Ex Machina

Sachiel’s answer is characteristically brief. He eyes the questioner for a moment, considering their motives.

(commission done by shadowpriest)

    Her fingers tightened around the tweezers as she guided the impossibly small wooden part into place, the simple drop of beeswax on the end all that was necessary to secure it into place. She bit her lower lip as she held her breath, a few dark strands of hair falling across her face as her brow furrowed in complete concentration. “Almost there,” – the satisfied murmur died in her throat as her fingers twitched, the delicate wooden piece splintering and vanishing into the incomplete hull of the model ship. For a split second Amoire was stricken, the breath whooshing out of her lungs as she stared in bewilderment at the miniature vessel before her. Never mind getting the blasted thing into the glass bottle if she couldn’t even get it together!

    It was hard to miss the muffled string of obscenities that drifted out of the harbor bound ship… but only those paying the utmost attention would notice the small pair of tweezers as they hurtled out the open window and plopped quietly into the sea. Her temper found solace in the jug of bourbon resting at her side, the potent alcohol certainly playing no role in her ability to piece together the model before her… right? She glared at the assortment of tiny wooden planks in front of her and wondered just what kind of person would give her – her of all people! – something so… delicate. Time-consuming. Detailed. Completely infuriating.

    Of course it had been him – Sachiel. She didn’t have to see the face underneath the hood to imagine the hint of a smirk that pulled at his lips when he decided on such a gift. His temper had always been better than her own, even in his youth. She thought of the eternally robed and hooded young mage she had stumbled across in the sprawling kingdoms outside of Stormwind. It had been Redridge, hadn’t it? Her knack for finding trouble had earned her a brutal fireball in the face… and she made certain that day not to forget the teenager that had very nearly murdered her. She had, in time, stumbled across him in Elwynn Forest… and to say their first several encounters had been painful and borderline hostile would be an understatement. Eventually, with enough blabbering on her part and enough patience (or perhaps boredom) on his… an alliance had been formed. Slowly, but certainly, that acquaintanceship turned into a friendship.

    He had always been powerful; his youthful tendencies for filling things that displeased him full of ice lances had matured into the most amazing magical prowess. She could never understand how to do it herself, but that made her no less appreciative of his mastery over the arcane. She mostly recalled the frost – fearsome blizzards, razor sharp bolts of ice, and chilly shields – but he had proved no less skilled at manifesting destructive fire or raw arcane energy. His skill with violence and with magic had been an answer to many problems once upon a time, but as the years passed by she had noticed a new sense of reservation. It wasn’t from lack of power… and it certainly wasn’t from lack of infuriatingly stupid people, so what had it been? A change of alignment, a better realization of right and wrong, but most importantly… a willingness to do good and the desire to become a better person. Most people started out life in the clear, didn’t dirty themselves with blood and sin and callous indifference until the years had turned them jaded and bitter. Sachiel, on the other hand, had shed more blood in his youth than most did in their entire lifetime, but now he lived as… what? “Sachiel, a hero of the Alliance,” Amoire mumbled between swigs, the words trailing off into a chuckle. It was still hard for her to place her image of him with such a silly title, but… it wasn’t entirely wrong, was it?

    Her ashen gaze settled on the incomplete ship at her desk as her fingers drummed against the bourbon jug. If it was him, it would have been completed weeks ago. Sachiel had always been brilliant – a library to rival the most impressive, unmatched skill with engineering, and a knack for strategy that carried him through any problem simple violence couldn’t handle.  It was his talent with building the most amazing things from the plainest schematics that impressed her the most. Metallic battle golems, a ship capable of soaring the skies – without magic, and an endless collection of firearms and ammunition. Amoire, personally, appreciated the last one the most – that man could make some guns! He had honed his skills from a young age and though he was young still she was certain he could be considered one of the most talented engineers on Azeroth. A model ship would be child’s play for him!

    And so… what did he lack? She scoffed into her drink – that one was too easy! Social prowess had always been his weakness. He had served as a frequent source of bemusement for her, his demeanor developing from a violent, awkward teenager to an adult figure that could best be described as silent and brooding. For a while, she talked enough for the both of them… and then he had started to improve. Nowadays? Strangers would certainly still find him quiet, but good friends could goad conversation or at least enjoy the benefit of an excellent listener. Last she checked, he was even leading a small company out of Hillsbrad! Ten years ago she would have choked on her bourbon at such a notion, but Sachiel had come such a long ways. Give that mage some charisma and he would be damned unstoppable!

    Amoire smiled to herself as she thought of her friend. No… not just a friend – he was family. She was proud of how far he had come, and she was curious to see where he would go. What did the future hold for someone like him? Certainly something better than the past had offered… surely something good, and perhaps--

[Reminiscing with a friend.]

“Yeah, Sachiel shot me, like, four times. But like, not on the same occasion... [laughs] Yeah, he does have a bit of a criminal record. I mean... so do I, technically. Also his fault, not mine... Of course, I don't hate the man, he's practically one of my best friends. No idea if he sees it like I do, but one of my favorite things about people is you don't need their permission to care about them.

Anyways, the big reason why is that he's proof that people can change. This may surprise you, but we weren't on great terms most of the times he shot me. It didn't change in a day either, or just because of nothing. The people around him changed, kind of... broadened his horizons, and that change began to reflect in him, too. I didn't lecture him very much, so I like to think it wasn't just replacing one set of conditioning over another. He just naturally started to change; limiting damage to civilians, stopping people because they needed to be stopped, or just... helping people close to him. I'd call the Sach I know today a hero... But he'd probably grumble if I said that to his face~.

I think it's just kind of the person he always was once he was given enough space to grow into it.  I think most people who find themselves in a bad way are like that, really. He's just one of the stories that ends happily.”

-Turadis Calin

[A letter arrives, stamped shut with a compass-shaped wax seal.]

Sachiel,

    Been some time! I wish I could deliver this in person to be honest, but I am currently in Kul Tiras trying to understand just enough about the art of mogu fleshcrafting to properly create an enhanced prosthetic arm for a pandaren. Long story, I know, I can already feel you doing that thing where you stare at me unnervingly with your mask on in silent judgement. Maybe after I’m done we can get together for a lunch or you can tell me about your latest projects or just play the piano... I don’t know, we’ll do something sometime.

    You were right, by the way. Feel free to get the ‘I told you so’ out of your system before I visit! Gods, the woman broke our engagement off and practically helped the guards arrest and torture me for punching someone-- almost, anyway. Much disillusionment has occurred with the Order, and several of us have jumped ship before it can sink and drown us all. But, that’s a whole other story to tell!

    What spurred this letter was that in all the chaos of leadership and people in my life it left me thinking a lot about you and the old days. I guess it hit me that I’ve never properly thanked you for what you did for me when you took me in and gave me a job. Before I dip into the sappy shit: let me warn you this letter is happening once and never again! That being said when I joined you I was in a bad place without that many real attachments or skills to speak of. You, and Cern, and everyone in the Crimson Skies gave me so much but mostly those two things, people who weren’t just some woman I slept with or some demon I forced to my side. Fighting beside you all tested me in ways I could never have imagined, but provided with the tools to become something I don’t think I really started appreciating until a year or so ago. Most importantly of all you stayed by me even when we fought or disagreed. You’ve been reliable and stable during times when maybe I didn’t give you a proper reason to be. So for all of that, for the way you stuck by me and the way you made me better by pushing me? Thank you.

    I suppose I’ll finish the sappy part of this letter by stating that when my wife died to the curse, I believed so much that new lovers or more power would be the solution to filling that void she left, but... when I look back the thing that saw me through to the other side was the friendship of people like you. So thank you for that, too.

    All of this shit being said, I know you don’t like to show weakness or ask for help but if there comes any day under any condition anywhere on this world or others that you need someone? You call me, and I’ll be there. Then I can stand in the back and be slightly helpful while you go in to make it look easy just like the old days! Until that time, you know how to reach me and I will trust you to stay safe.

“Sachiel? If anyone else had asked, I would just refer to him as a colleague or a principal member of our squad. People often perceive him as a cold and calculated man, armored from head to toe, but... I know it isn’t all as it seems. He came from a difficult beginning and his path through life was from one hard decision to another, with tragedy and betrayal as his close companions. It was understandable then that someone so frequently imperiled would be closed off. Justifiably so aloof that no one had even seen his face in years.

Yet, when I broke into his bunker to study his work, he didn’t gun me down. Someone so purportedly violent, I wonder what it was he thought in that moment still. I was in awe of him. It was like seeing theory laid out into reality, a harmonious blend of magic, machine, and man. I knew both the magic and the machine, but the man was much an enigma to me for many months. We became collaborators with similar interests, both working to scale the limits of our understanding. Each time I came to a plateau, he was there to lend insight that there was more to see, just above the clouds. Still it was only magic and machine.

Sachiel isn’t much for words, even now. Action describes his feelings better. To the people who have the honor of being his friend, he is generous with his time and energy. I came to understand this later, when without fail, whenever I needed him, he was there. He is a man that men tremble before, not solely because of the sheer violence he is capable of unleashing, but because he is relentless. I would not be here today as I am now, if not for him.

I don’t know when it specifically began that I started to see him so differently than the image he outwardly portrayed. When he began to take off his mask around me. When my heart began to race whenever his tone of voice changed as we spoke alone. I just know that when he smiles at me, no matter what difficult decision we face, everything will be alright. I suppose then, to put it simply, he is the most important man in my life.”