A soft, resigned smile on his face as he brought a hand to her cheek. His fingers are cold, but not as cold as her face in the wet night. The warm light from a stained glass window behind them-a rose formed of colored panes. A deep sigh. A flash of lightning illuminating the pained look on his face. Droplets of water, like tears, on his face. An almost penitential tone in his voice.

"Kairian Es'ama Sabach--dema dolor--Shantih, Rasaleb."

The rumbling voice of the thunder obscuring his words, the darkness falling around them once more.