They were running, crashing through the undergrowth, swatting branches out of their way, oblivious to which direction they were going or from which direction they had come. The cave had been easy enough to find - a gaping hole with pillars, ivy and brambles clinging to the stone - and twice as easy to leave. None of them wanted to see what treasures might lay further inside after staring into those black eyes. And so they ran without thought, fear clouding their judgement. And, as if the demon- and spider-infested cave wasn't enough to put them on edge, they had met with a Dalish elf whose red eyes glinted at them from the shadows.

One of the men stumbled and fell backwards, catching sight of the arrow pointed at them as they emerged from a thick patch of trees. The other two hauled him to his feet and they huddled together. They all knew the tales of the Dalish - deadly accurate archers with no mercy.

"You're just in time, lethallan," the elf said as a second stepped from the trees, her bow trained on them and a vicious glint in her red-brown eyes. "What should we do with these shem? Kill them?"

Her silence was more terrifying to the three human men than the elf's threat. Then she seemed to relax, her bowstring at only half draw. "Let them go with a warning."

"So they can bring more and drive us out," he asked in anger. "You are too soft."

"Look," one of the men said shakily, holding his hands up and taking a step forward. "We didn't know this was your forest. We would have stayed out it's just -"

"This is not our forest. You've strayed too close to our camp, shem."

"We'll leave. Just let us go."

"Why were you here?" Her voice was quiet, calm and even, and the three found it much more frightening than the other's anger.

"Treasure!"

"That's right. There's a cave with ruins and treasure. We didn't get very far in though."

"Why not," the elf asked.

"There was ..."

"There was a demon!"

The male elf guffawed. "So you're more akin to thieves than bandits."

"We aren't thieves! It was a ruin - abandoned, no one lives there and no one claims it."

"We know these woods," she muttered. "There are caves but no ruins. You lie."

"No!"

"We have proof!" The speaker stepped forward, a poorly wrapped bundle in his outstretched hand, trembling as the she-elf reached for it. She unwrapped it and stared for a moment, her fingers running over the strange symbols.

"What is it, lethallan?" She gave no answer other than to toss the fragment to him. He caught it deftly in one hand, his bow still in the other and the arrow already replaced in its quiver. Her bow came to full draw just as quickly as his left it, giving the men no time to react. Not that any of them thought of running from the Dalish - it was said that a dozen arrows could leave their bow in half as many seconds. "This is … Where did you find this?"

"In the cave. There's probably lots more inside but …"

"We were too afraid."

Both elves gave a derisive chuckle in unison. "It's just like the shemlen to be cowards after finding …" His voice trailed off as he stared at the fragmented tile again.

"What is it, Tamlen?"

He shook his head, tucked the treasure into a pouch at his waist, and pulled his bowstring to full draw again, the arrowhead glinting in the noonday light that streamed through the leaves overhead. "We will speak of it later. Now, lethallan, what shall we do with these shem?"

She hesitated, her eyes flickering between a brother of her clan - her best friend since childhood - and the three shem. Tamlen had already called her soft once; he did not share in her thoughts of learning about the human world which was vast in comparison to their traveling home - a home she was entrusted with protecting. She was a hunter. Perhaps she could not afford to be soft. She drew a breath. "One should serve as an example. The others can go, with a warning."

Tamlen nodded and changed his stance slightly. The men stumbled - over their words and each other - and two ran away without a second glance over their shoulders as the third fell to the forest floor. He would never get up again. Tamlen slung his shortbow over his back, checking to ensure that his dar'misaan and clan shield would be easy to use if needed. He turned to stare at the younger elf, who in turn was staring at her boots.

"I would have let them all go, if you wanted," he said quietly. He knew she disliked killing unless necessary, and he knew that had not been necessary.

"Yet you would have killed them all had you been alone or with anyone else."

"Yes but for you, lethallan, I would make an exception."

She smiled and wiped at the single tear threatening to fall before slinging her bow over her shoulder. Tamlen couldn't help but smile back - the way her nose crinkled and her red-brown eyes lit up was contagious.

"Let's go see about this ruin."

Tamlen pulled the fragment from his pouch and held it between them as they walked. "This is written elvish, I'm sure of it. I've seen the same symbols and lines in Keeper Marethari's scrolls."

"Lethallin."

"I know, I know. But what's the worst that could happen? I'd just get extra duties and that's not so bad. I'd take it, even, if it meant I could discover something from our history."

"It looks like any other writing I've seen," she mumbled.

Tamlen laughed. "You can't read anyway, Emma Da'len."

"Do not call me that." He chuckled and ruffled her russet hair until the shorter strands fell out around her face. She tucked them behind her ears.

"Emma Da'len! Emma Da'len! Emma Da -"

"What are you doing, da'len?" He spun on his heel and stared at the group of hunters. They had just returned from the forest, their weapons resting on their backs, their eyes tired, a wild boar and a stag bloodied among them.

"I'm looking for Emma Da'len." They frowned, muttered. "She's this tall, has red hair and red eyes, and she's my lethallan."

"Da'len," one of them said quietly, kneeling down to the boy's height and setting a hand gently on his shoulder. "Do you know what you are saying? 'Emma da'len' means -"

"I am a little child."

The hunter started then smiled with a shake of his head. "So then you cannot -"

"Her name is Emma Da'len Mahariel. Even Keeper Marethari calls her that."

"Mahariel ..."

"Da'len." The group turned toward the new voice. The Keeper stood there, her arm around a shaking Ashalle, their hair beginning to grey with age and worry. "Have you seen Emma Da'len," she asked.

"No," the young elf answered, drawing the vowel out until he ran out of breath. The Keeper waited patiently until he was finished.

"It is very important that we find her, da'len. Ashalle is worried she may have strayed from the clan."

"Do we need to send out hunters to search, Keeper," one of the men asked, gripping the pommel of his dar'misaan.

"I do not believe that is necessary just yet. Tamlen, you will look for her won't you?"

Tamlen nodded and ran off without a response from any of the adults. He and Emma Da'len had been playing a game of hide-and-seek just before; he thought she had found a very, very good place to hide and was calling her name because he'd given up. Now he knew exactly where she was.

He slowed as he neared the town, listening to the not-so-distant voices of the shemlen as they went about their lives. He kept to the shadows of the trees, blue eyes staring out at the fields and farmhouses, at the few shepherds who tended their sheep, searching the vibrant green grass where the animals grazed for a spot of red. He hoped that it would be alone, bobbing to a song only it could hear, disappearing from view as it ducked behind a sheep. He frowned; it wasn't alone; she wasn't alone.

He ran from his cover and slid down near the three different colored heads - one brown, one black, one red. The sheep nearest him let out a complaint; the children mimicked the noise.

"Tamlen!"

"What are you doing, lethallan," he hissed angrily, peeking over his shoulder.

She tucked her red hair behind her ears and glanced at the two she was with. Tamlen didn't mind that she wanted to befriend one of them - he was an elf after all, and it was their job as Dalish to lead the flat-ears back to the traditions of their people. It was the human that bothered him. Her green eyes flashed with a mix of joy and fear and curiosity as she smiled widely, her freckled face turning a light shade of pink. Tamlen scowled. He liked her even less when she did that; she was cute and he couldn't stand the thought crossing his mind.

"I was learning a new song," the little elf girl said with a laugh. "Do you want to hear it?"

"No. We have to go, Emma Da'len."

"Emma. It's just Emma. Annine says it is a shem name and Dornian says he has even heard it in the alienage before he left. So I want to be called Emma."

"Why would you want a shemlen name?"

She cocked her head and hunched her shoulders. Tamlen knew that movement well; he was not going to like what she said but she was going to say it anyway. "I am a little child ... It is not a name, lethallin, but what I am. I cannot say emma da'len when I am old and wrinkled with grey hair and my children are having children. I want a name - a real name - and if no one in the clan will name me then I will take a name from any. Annine and Dornian call me Emma because that is a name. And so I am."

Tamlen let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and hid a smile behind his hand. Emma, in Elvish, still was not a name but a statement, one that his friend had just said. He shrugged and looked over his shoulder again.

"We must go."

"Lethallin, I hadn't taught them one of our songs yet. We always trade - songs or stories or trinkets or bits of food. Teach them with me, please."

"Ashalle is worried and she's already been to the Keeper; if we don't get back to them soon they'll send the hunters after us."

"Are the hunters terrifying," the dark haired elf asked, his blue eyes wide with fear. He was younger than Emma by looks, but still he knew stories of the Dalish - stories that she had laughed at and thrown to the wind as exaggerations of a rare occasion when the forest-dwelling elves were forced into action.

"Ashalle is more terrifying," Tamlen said quietly.

"Who is Ashalle," the human inquired as she stood and stretched. She leaned to one side and then the other, and her shirt pulled out of the waistband of her skirt to show the skin of her stomach. Tamlen quickly looked away.

"She is ..." Emma paused. A frown lighted on her lips and she stared sideways at the ground. Tamlen knew she was thinking of how to word it and thanked the Creators that she was still cautious with them. "Something of a mother to me." She smiled and cocked her head again; it was an uncomfortable subject for her. "But to be honest, I am more frightened of Harhen Paivel. I suppose we should go."

"Then you'll teach us two songs next time, won't you?" Annine asked cheerfully. Emma nodded and the three - the human, the city elf, and the Dalish elf - clasped hands before the redheaded girl disappeared into the tall grass with her clanmate.

The cave stood before them, yawning widely into a dark interior. The path that led down to it was twisting and sloped, covered in thick vines and prickly bramble branches, piles of crumbled stone here and there along the edges; the pillars had been worn smooth by years of wind save for where they had fallen onto the path. Tamlen placed his hand on one of them, twisting his fingers into the vines that curved there.

"Do you remember seeing this," he asked, looking over to the elf that stood beside him.

Her shoulders were tense, her lips set in a hard line, eyes travelling through their surroundings, her fingers playing with the fletching of her arrows where they sat in the quiver at her hip. She turned her face towards him yet her eyes remained on the cave entrance. "No," she answered quietly. "And that worries me. We should return to the clan and ask Keeper Marethari's opinion."

"What? I'm not running back to them unless there's something to fuss about. Think about it, lethallan. If the cave wasn't here the last time we looked who is to say whether we will be able to find it again?"

"We can mark the trail."

"Lethallan." He took his free hand in hers and pulled her further down the path. "There's probably not any sort of thing to be worried about in there. The shem are liars and thieves and beggars and murderers. Would you believe them?"

"They are not all like that, Tamlen," she said in a huff, her lips pushed into a pout. He drew a breath to answer then held it as she stepped in front of him and, her hand still in his, walked into the cave.

They stood in the near darkness for a moment until their eyes adjusted to the dim lighting; their breathing was the only sound they could hear. Emma swallowed past the fear, but the sickening feeling of dread only grew in her stomach. Tamlen gave her hand a squeeze then disappeared further into the cave. He came back holding a torch in one hand, his blond hair catching the firelight and shining like gold, eyes shifting between the bright blue of the noon sky and the dark blue of the night as the flame danced with his movements.

"Let's go, Emma."

She nodded.

The two elves stepped further into the cave, following the halls, climbing over roots and ducking beneath fallen stone archways, rattling the handles of locked doors. The ruins appeared human in design and they had seen no sign of treasure - or any other elvish remains.

Tamlen lowered the torch and stared at his boots as they reached the beginning of the cave again. "This is pointless," he mumbled. "There isn't anything here."

"Tamlen!"

His head jerked up. When had Emma left his side? It wasn't like her - wandering off on her own in a dangerous place; usually she just wandered away from the clan to watch the shemlen in their towns, staying undetected and out of danger in the branches, but she always came back.

There was noise up ahead, movement in a hallway where before there had been none. Tamlen could pick out the rhythm of Emma's bow as it was drawn back and released beneath the constant hissing of … what was it? He shrugged his shield from his back and drew the dar'misaan that was normally sheathed under it, tightening his grip as he saw the open door. He yelled as he went through, swinging the blade before he could even see what he was striking at. There was the hissing, coming from the pincers of multiple giant spiders, the high-pitched scream that accompanied their death, and the breaking of bones - he remembered it well from the time that he had broken his arm after following Emma over a waterfall - but that couldn't be from the spiders. He gasped as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room.

Emma was half-wrapped in a cocoon, firing arrow after arrow from her upside-down perch that the spiders had provided her with. Each one hit their mark, sending a spurt of blood into the air and an arachnid quivering back into the tunnel it had come from. Tamlen ignored her for the moment, confident that she could keep the spiders at bay, and turned his attention to the walking skeletons that bombarded him now. They were armored in tattered leather and rusted iron, their weapons - axes and swords - sprinkling red dust with each swing and clang of metal that met his own sword, their arms breaking and splintering as he forced all his strength into each swing. Only dark magic could have summoned the dead from their graves, he knew - powerful dark magic. He clenched his teeth and swung with both sword and shield until they quit moving.

The room was silent once again.

"What," he gasped. "What is going on? What was that?" He dropped the clan shield, a clattering echoing through the tunnels after the spiders, falling to his knees as his shoulders shook. He could feel the tears in his eyes, the warmth pressing as they threatened to fall. He slowed his breathing and stayed still until the trembling in his body had ceased; the moisture left his eyes without the tears ever falling. He picked up his sword and shield, replacing them on his back as he stood, and cast a glance over his shoulder.

Emma was slicing through the cocoon - as well as one could slice through such sticky material - with an arrow. She let out a gasp as the webbing gave way abruptly, catching herself on the uneven floor, a cloud of dust rising to cover her; she stood in the middle of it and straightened the light leather chestpiece she wore.

"What were you thinking, lethallan," he whispered.

She cocked her head and hunched her shoulders. She mumbled a reply that Tamlen could not hear. He shook his head as he stepped closer and wrapped her in a hug, tucking her head beneath his chin; the webs in her hair tickled his nose.

"There was a door," Emma said quietly. She could ignore the tremors racing through her body if Tamlen could. "It wasn't there when we passed the first time. I thought that if I tried it something might happen."

"Yes, you would get eaten by cave spiders and walking corpses. This place is full of dark magic, lethallan. I'm beginning to think that your caution should have been heeded by my stupidity. We can leave now. You're right - the fragment is enough."

"No, lethallin, it isn't." Emma pushed away from Tamlen's embrace, ran two fingers over her bowstring to check for any frays or breakage, then replaced her arrow in the quiver at her hip and took a few steps. "There's another door."

Tamlen smiled half-heartedly. "Emma." He watched her as she turned slowly on one foot. She was scared, unwilling to admit it even to him, yet still willing to explore. Danger was not something Emma dealt with well - it made her stiffen, muddled her mind, slowed her actions so that she became nothing more than a doll to be toyed with and used - but for him, she would face danger; with him, she could handle anything.

"You were supposed to help Master Ilen today, weren't you," he continued. "So how did you end up here?"

Emma smiled and shrugged.

"You know me - I'll take any chance I get to wander away from the clan."

Tamlen laughed and stepped between her and the door. "That's true. You wander so much you'll probably end up joining the flat-ears and live in a shemlen city one day."

"Tel sahl'vunin."

Tamlen chuckled again and turned the door handle. It opened easily and quietly as though it hadn't been sitting in an abandoned cave for Creators-knew-how-long and the two found themselves in the hallway they had been in before. Only this time, there was another door that mysteriously appeared where before there had been a stone wall. The older elf stepped forward, his hands balled into tight fists as he stared at a pile of bones and rubble, willing it not to move as the pair walked past. He was not watching the door they had come from or where he placed his feet, but he felt the stone move as he put weight on it. Emma gasped. Instead of a door where they had passed through, there was a statue - a vaguely familiar statue though neither of them could place where they had seen the likeness before.

Tamlen felt suddenly ill as a powder filled the air around the elves. He could no longer see Emma but could hear her coughing, the sound growing fainter as he tried to follow it, spinning in stumbling circles with one arm out as the other tried to keep the powder from entering his lungs.

He pushed into something that gave way an inch or two then stopped. A door, he thought, and pushed against it harder until it opened suddenly and he tumbled back. He lay still for a moment, breathing deeply and slowly until there was no pressure in his chest. "Fenedhis," he spat, and sat up.

The door had closed behind him. He stood and rushed to it, pushing against it with his hands and then a shoulder; there was no handle.

"Emma! Emma!" He pressed his ear to the cold stone and listened, his breath catching in his throat at the silence. "Emma Da'len!" His fingers danced across the seam where the door and wall met. He could always try to use his dar'misaan to pry the door open; if it meant finding Emma safe he was even willing to face the beratement that he would get from Master Ilen and Hahren Paivel. He turned to search the room for anything he could use.

There was a mirror in the center of the room, among the crumbling walls and the cracked ceiling and dust-covered stone floor. It stood tall and elegant, somehow eerie and beautiful, intimidating and welcoming all at once. Tamlen couldn't see past it. It seemed to give off its own light, urging him closer to it, and he couldn't disobey. He slowly went forward, one step and then another, until he was at the bottom of the stairs leading up. A mirror on a raised pedestal, as though it was a thing to be worshipped - Tamlen had never seen anything like it before. He was up the stairs in an instant. He couldn't remember lifting his legs to walk up them but here he was, only an arm's length from the mirror. He reached out for it.

"Tamlen!"

He spun on his heel to see Emma raising her bow before being blocked from view by a massive shape - black and red and brown matted fur and sharp edges of broken rock and bone. He was frozen as the creature roared, standing up on two legs.

There was a clattering and a small fragment of stone bounced off the creature's head. It turned, surprisingly fast for how large it was, and stared with a dark fury in its black eyes at the she-elf that stood in the doorway. She raised her bow again, loosing an arrow in nearly the same movement; a second arrow followed in the same breath.

The creature roared again. It stumbled through the cavernous room. Emma kept tossing stones at it, drawing it out into the hallway. The bear-like monster swung its paws; the elf nimbly avoided the blind swipes. She stopped suddenly, looking up at Tamlen, her red eyes flashing with something he couldn't name. Then she was gone from view again as the creature stood once more, stretching to fill the doorway, towering over both elves. It opened wide its mouth and let loose a bellow that shook the cavern, sending chips of the ceiling to rain down on Tamlen's head. It slammed onto four paws again and was still.

"Emma!"

Tamlen drew his sword and held it tight in both hands as he stepped forward, down the stairs and up behind the beast. He paused as he realized this was the demon the shemlen had spoken of. That made two truths and one lie - there still was no sign of treasure. Tamlen found he was shaking again - not out of fear for himself but out of fear for losing his lethallan.

"Emma Da'len," he whispered.

"Do not," she hissed through clenched teeth as she crawled from beneath the creature, "call me that." She brushed her hair behind her ears, ignoring the pieces that fell from the long braid over her shoulder. Her shoulders heaved with each breath and she stood with all her weight on one leg, holding one arm against her side. She stared at the creature, tears threatening behind her eyes, her lower lip quivering like when they were children.

"Lethallan, you …"

Emma smiled unexpectedly and stepped over the still-warm corpse to stand next to Tamlen. "An arrow in each eye," she mused. Tamlen started at the harsh words and casual tone, glancing at the beast's head to see that it was true - one arrow protruded from each eye socket as well as a third in its back. "It never slowed. Maybe it really was a demon. Let's get out of here."

Tamlen grabbed her wrist as she turned away. She grimaced. "Are you really going to leave without looking at the mirror? We're here already," he said. "Let's take a closer look."

"A closer look almost got you killed, Tamlen!"

"I know, but there's nothing here now."

"Have you even checked the tunnel," she asked incredulously. "There could be more spiders or more walking dead or even another one of these … these things. You weren't answering me when I was talking to you, lethallin, almost as if I wasn't here. I don't want to get any closer to that mirror. Let's go."

"Lethallan, look." Tamlen pulled her closer to the bottom of the steps and stared up. He pointed to the edge of the mirror. It was decorated with the same strange symbols as the fragment. "We found it: a piece of elven history. So let's take a closer look."

"Tamlen, I …"

Tamlen smiled and bounded up the stairs until he was in front of the mirror again. He stared at it, and the urge to reach out for it filled him again. "Can you feel that?" She clenched her jaw. "I think it knows we're here. It's …"

"Tamlen."

"It's showing me … things."

Emma stood next to him and looked - not at the mirror but at her best friend; he was not himself. His blue eyes were distant, searching the face of the mirror, clouded over with something that swirled and rippled. "Tamlen, let's go."

"There's a … a city." His words were coming slowly, annunciated too well, sentences forming as though it were something he was unused to. "Underground?"

"Lethallin, please."

His hand was reaching forward. She grabbed it and held his arm in both of hers. "A great blackness … It saw me …"

"Lethallin! Tamlen, let's go!"

"I can't … look away. Lethallan … help me!"

Emma reached for his other hand as it went up, threading her fingers in his, only a second too late. As he brushed the surface of the mirror it began to hum, vibrating as the pitch rose to an unbearable screech. Emma thought she could hear screaming; whether it was her or Tamlen or something else entirely she couldn't say. She could no longer feel Tamlen and soon even her vision began to fail. A darkness came from the shaking mirror - a darkness like none she had known before. Complete and enveloping, it drove all senses away until all she could feel, and all she knew, was that she was utterly alone. She opened her mouth to scream yet no sound emerged. She was a part of the nothingness now, another piece of the Banalhan to be used towards destruction in dizzying amounts.

Author's Note: Enjoy! Reviews always welcome.

EDIT: March 10, 2015

tel sahl'vunin: not today (I took some liberties here. "sahl" is a shortened version of "sahlin" mostly because it sounds better to say "sahl'vunin" instead of "sahlin'vunin". Bit of a mouthful, I think.)