Illene had noticed the looks, the glances and all the petty whispering that was anything but discrete, especially when she passed by those two. Being in constant control by the templars was bad enough, but to be forced to live a sheltered, chaste life as they were? No wonder they were bored enough to think rumors about her were interesting. But it wasn't solely the silly interest they had taken in her private life... some rumors were considered to be dangerous and even more annoying when they simply just weren't true.

It hadn't been the first time that Calden and Gundir had shouted out to Cullen, when she happened to pass by, on her way to the library.

"Hey, Cullen! Your light footed muse is here!"

The ginger templar was as quick to disappear as those two were to shake vigorously with laughter. Idiots. Illene couldn't help but wonder if utter stupidity was a requisite when you took your vows as a templar. She couldn't exactly deny that Cullen was quite easy on the eyes though, and quite the welcoming distraction when all she had done the entire day was burying her nose in ancient tomes and trying to finally, set that horridly looking napkin on fire without burning down her entire chamber. Her Harrowing was fairly near, but she was confident in her skills. She had spent way too much time and effort on grasping carefully calculated self control. She could set the world ablaze while a tornado tore apart the Tower, that was for sure. But even so, the doubt, the slim chance of failing clouded her thoughts somewhat.

She couldn't help but be slightly intrigued by the man. Of how he seemed to glance at her, now and then, of how he turned a deep shade of red whenever his less than friendly fellow templars took the few opportunities of being away from the Knight-Commander, to shout the most idiotic tripe they could muster. She couldn't quite understand, up to a point, why he would be so seemingly embarrassed. Afraid of the rumors as well, perhaps?

But even so, discrete ogling aside, he was but one of them. Soulless carcasses, she thought. The templars that wandered the halls of the Tower were nothing but bars in her gilded cage. No choice had been given to her on whether to go to the Circle or not, but there she was, for a great part of her life and she might as well make the best of it.

And so came her Harrowing. The ginger templar stood on the chamber, next to the Knight-Commander, surely waiting for Illene to slip up so they could finally run their blades through one more. Stories were abundant and growing and so was the displeasure at the sight of the templars. Bars. Nothing but bars. She glanced sideways at the nervous young man, hands firmly behind his back, not daring to spare her a glance. But it did not matter, none of it did. She approached her hand to the blinding blue light that shone in front of her, the warmth of it suddenly encircling her while her body began to shiver uncontrollably. Her sight began to fade and with it, so did the image of Cullen, the First Enchanter, all of them.

Soon, she had regained her vision, but all she saw was a barren wasteland, suspended in space and time. Was this the Fade? Was this her trial? She chuckled to herself, grasping her staff and dusting off her robes as she readied herself for the struggles up ahead. They called it challenging, she would disagree, even despite a small drop of sweat having fallen from her forehead on occasion. Even so, that deep otherworldly voice still resonated within her head when she woke up, laying on her bedchamber.

Keep your wits about you, Mage. True tests never end.

Illene was more than surprised to find herself there, half expecting to have awaken in the Harrowing chamber, standing tall and triumphant. But there she was, Jowan trying to wake her up, pestering her with endless questions about the rite of passage. Her eyes felt incredibly heavy and she could all but nod at the young man, trying to satisfy his questioning or just let him tire of it. Despite considering him a friend, it wasn't soon enough when Jowan left, a distant pang of a headache gnawing on her brain. She could remember him telling her... of how the First-Enchanter needed to see her. Her insecurities were quick to kick in and Illene instantly feared that she had done something wrong, something that she would soon regret. But she passed her test... didn't she?

Groggily, Illene stumbled out of the room, a little too fast for her own pace, nearly colliding with Cullen's carefully polished armor. He held out his hands in front of him, managing to avoid the collision but quickly retracting his hands, avoiding the contact. Illene stopped and looked up at the templar, unsure if she should stay and try to make small conversation or simply sidestep and go on her way. He rubbed the back of his neck and forced a slight smile, stumbling over his words.

"Hum... hello."

Should she return the niceties? Pretend that this was nothing but a small social encounter? People already seemed to have taken a liking to talk about her and Cullen, wouldn't this be feeding the fire? The sudden attention left her intrigued though and she chose to stay. They already talked anyway. It couldn't hurt, could it?

"I... I'm glad your Harrowing went smoothly."

Well, that was quite the weight off her chest. Still, the curiosity of whatever the First-Enchanter could want from her did not subside. And... wait. Was he stuttering? Why was he stuttering?

"Why are you stuttering?"

Apparently, spending more time with books than with people, seriously hindered one's ability to actually make conversation. Cullen looked slightly taken aback and opened his mouth, only to close it again, his cheeks gaining a slight rose tinge.

"What?" He said, slightly higher than he most likely expected. Cullen looked to both her sides and then to her again.

"I-I'm fine!" He uttered, trying to look as casual (casually nervous, really) as he could. He was failing tremendously and it was intriguing... and almost amusing, she thought.

"I'm just glad you're all right, you know? I mean..."

Illene had passed her Harrowing. She did not fail, however, if she had, it would've been this man to struck her down. This very same man that seemed to be terrible intimidated by a small woman in a robe.

"Would you really have struck me down, Cullen? If I had failed?"

The templar swallowed hard, drumming his fingers against his leg while he seemed to carefully measure his words, averting his gaze from hers.

"I would've felt terrible about it but..."

"But...?"

"Hum... I serve the Chantry and the Maker, and I will do as I am commanded."

Soulless. Completely and utterly soulless. What a sad existence... it had to be, to simply follow orders and do as commanded. For the Chantry tells you so. Illene had conformed to the Circle, but she was no blind fool. She had devoted her life to the development of her abilities, but only for herself. She wanted to be the best she could be and the Circle offered her that opportunity. No. She only followed her own orders. She was her own, unlike him.

"Right. Well, I shouldn't distract you from your duties."

As quickly as she could, Illene walked past by the templar, not giving him a second glance or even the chance to speak. But a sudden feeling made her stop dead on her tracks. There was something warm... strong, around her wrist. Grasping it, demanding her attention. Cullen's hand had reached for her and he looked as confused and bewildered as she felt. All too suddenly, he removed his hand, gulping and looking at her, eyes widened in horror.

"I apologize, I-I'm sorry. That was entirely inappropriate and-"

Illene didn't follow orders. Templars and mages don't mix, they say. It is as advisable to do so as it is to escape the Tower. But she couldn't resist and, in a childish whim, she stood on the tip of her toes and planted the lightest of kisses on the templar's lips. Cullen was the personification of shock and she couldn't help but feel the giddiness and excitement bubbling within her. His ears were no doubt in flame and he stared at her, frozen. Illene cleared her throat and looked at him, looking as serene as if nothing had happened.

"Well, no. You see, that was inappropriate. Well, comparing to what you did anyway."

Was he truly all that soulless as he appeared? Then why did he grab her wrist? She simply turned on her heels and began walking towards the end of the hallway, to the First-Enchanter's chamber. She did not look back to see if the templar was still there, but she couldn't help but smile at his reaction. It amused her to no end that she could have such an effect on someone, let alone someone that was more than ready to kill her if needed be... whatever that was. So she laughed to herself, chuckling on the outside and laughing heartily on the inside. She wanted to see him again, to bump into him once more and see what other reactions she could pull from him. How far she could go. Just how bare his soul was.