She needed to collect her thoughts. As many times before, she manege to get past the guard and out to the grounding surrounding the Tower. She took a deep breath of fresh air and gazed up to the full moon. The silvery light guided her in to the garden. Here she was hidden from any eyes that could possible see her. Here, she was alone. She hid her face in her hands as images started to flash before her closed eyes. All the times they had meet, looked at each other and the few touches. The places were he had touch her started to burn as she remembered them. She tried to stop her thoughts but the images merged together with fantasies. The touches went further and...
"Stop it!" She whispered angrily at herself and opened her eyes and the images stopped. She couldn't allow herself to go further. He was a Templar. She was a Mage. It was forbidden. She started to go back and forth as her mind took it's own way. His voice. His face. His eyes. She had to stop thinking about him! Maybe he didn't feel the same. Maybe he was just nice. A friend. But a small voice told her otherwise. That he wanted her. The images of the looks he sometimes had, flashed through her head. And there she went again! She walked fast out of the garden, hoping that the cold of the night would clear her head.

She sensed him before she saw him. He was a shadow against the wall of the tower. She stopped and hid before looking at him, fearing she was imagining him or mistook him for another. But the moonlight reveled it was him. His blond hair was glimmering in the moonlight, like a halo. He was leaning his forehead and lower arms onto the wall. His eyes were shut and his face full of emotions. His teeth were clutched together, as if he was in pain. Then she could hear him murmur desperately, as if he was drowning and tried to find something to hold own to
"'My Creator, judge me whole:
Find me well within Your grace
Touch me with fire that I be cleansed
Tell me I have sung to Your approval

O Maker, hear my cry:
Seat me by Your side in death
Make me one within Your glory..'" He clutched his teeth as he was beginning to stutter.

"Oh, Maker!" His voices turned in to a desperate, low cry and he clutched his hand into a fist. She held a hand against her mouth trying to silence her own gasp. She was breaking. His voice made her feel the urgent need to comfort him. To put her arms around him and tell him everything would be alright. To hold him close...

He knelt down against the wall, still in the same position.
"Maker, forgive me" The wind blew the whisperer in her direction. Before she did anything she would regret she fled in to the garden, up the path to the Tower and in to the halls with the whisper burned in to her mind...