The Temple

The forest thickened around them as they pressed on, the canopy above weaving a dense shield that let in only slivers of pale light. The air grew colder, more oppressive, each step accompanied by the distant creaks and groans of ancient trees. The silence was unnatural, broken only by their cautious footsteps and the occasional far-off howl that made their skin crawl.

"It must be close," Leliana murmured, her voice hushed as if the forest itself were listening. Her keen eyes scanned the surroundings. "The Keeper said the ruins lie where the forest feels oldest."

"Oldest?" Cullen muttered, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. "The entire forest feels ancient and cursed. How are we supposed to tell?"

Zevran chuckled softly, though his voice lacked its usual playfulness. "Ah, templar, have you not learned yet? The Dalish have a knack for making things sound both poetic and maddeningly vague." His golden eyes flickered warily toward the shadows.

Behind them, Tamlen stumbled slightly, his chains clinking faintly. He halted, his body stiffening. His breathing became uneven, his clawed fingers twitching against the restraints.

"Tamlen?" Alistair turned to him, his voice steady but concerned.

Tamlen didn't respond immediately. His head tilted slightly, his bloodshot eyes narrowing as though listening to something far away. His lips parted, and he rasped, "Close… here…"

"Here?" Leliana asked, her tone wary.

Tamlen nodded jerkily, his trembling form straining against his bindings. "The… mirror…" he croaked, his voice barely audible. "It… calls."

Alistair stepped forward, placing a hand firmly on his shoulder. "Stay with us, Tamlen. We'll find it. Together. Just hold on."

Tamlen let out a faint growl, his body twitching as if every fiber of his being wanted to rush ahead.

Soon, the forest parted to reveal the ruins, rising from the ground like the jagged bones of some long-dead giant. The massive stone structure was covered in creeping vines and moss, its surface cracked and weathered. Even so, the intricate carvings of elven figures could still be seen—depictions of ancient gods with hands outstretched toward a glowing orb.

The air around the temple was heavy, almost suffocating, charged with a strange energy that sent shivers through the group.

"This is it," Leliana said softly, her voice tinged with awe and unease.

Cullen's gaze moved over the carvings, his brow furrowed. "It doesn't just feel old. It feels… wrong. Like something that shouldn't still be standing."

Zevran chuckled lightly, though there was little humor in his voice. "Magnificent, isn't it? The ancient elves knew how to make things that last… even if those things are best left forgotten."

Tamlen took a staggering step forward, his wide eyes locked onto the temple. His breathing grew heavier, his claws scraping against the chains that bound him. "Seen… this…" he rasped, his voice raw. "Mirror… inside."

Alistair quickly stepped in front of him, holding him back. "We'll find it, Tamlen. But not like this. Stay with us."

Tamlen let out a low growl, his claws flexing, but he didn't fight.

Leliana turned her gaze to the temple's entrance, a yawning black void that seemed to devour the dim light of the clearing. "Whatever lies inside," she said, her voice steady but grim, "we need to be ready."

"Ready?" Cullen muttered, gripping his sword. "Nothing can prepare you for places like this."

With weapons drawn and nerves taut, they stepped into the darkened archway.

The air inside the temple was stifling, heavy with the scent of ancient stone and the faint, metallic tang of Taint. Flickering torches lined the walls, their flames casting long, dancing shadows that made the carvings of elven gods seem alive. The group moved cautiously, their weapons drawn, as every sound echoed unnervingly through the corridors.

"Someone's been here recently," Leliana murmured, her gaze flicking toward the torches. "The werewolves, perhaps?"

"Who else would light the way in a cursed ruin?" Cullen muttered, his grip tightening on his sword.

They pressed onward, their steps careful as the oppressive hum that filled the temple seemed to grow louder. Tamlen followed them silently, but his movements became more erratic the further they went. His claws twitched, his breathing uneven, his bloodshot eyes darting toward the walls as though searching for something.

When the corridor split into two paths, they hesitated. The right path continued onward, still lit by torches, but Tamlen suddenly veered left, down a dark, unlit passageway.

"Tamlen, wait!" Alistair called, but the elf ignored him, his chains rattling as he stumbled forward.

Leliana glanced at the others, her brow furrowed with concern. "We can't let him go alone. He's unstable."

Alistair sighed, nodding. "We follow him. Stay close and be ready for anything."

The group turned down the dark corridor, their only light coming from the faint glow of Leliana's torch. The passage was narrow and damp, the walls lined with crumbling carvings that had long since lost their meaning.

Then the corridor widened abruptly, opening into a vast hall that stole their breath.