#blaeyn

(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--