Tighnari

In the Avidya Forest, twilight always reigned—the canopies of giant trees allowed almost no sunlight to pass through, and the air was thick with moisture and spicy scents. You were walking along the path, enjoying the silence, and didn't even notice when you veered off course—toward where the ground was strewn with bright, deceptively beautiful mushrooms. One careless step, and your foot sank into the loose soil, sending a cloud of spores swirling upward. You inhaled—and the world began to drift.

The last thing you remembered was a voice from above, calm and slightly teasing:

— Well, look at that. Another enthusiast of exotic mushrooms. Don't breathe deeply; I'm coming down.

Tighnari leapt from a branch, landing almost silently. He had been watching you for some time—he saw how carefully you bypassed the flowers, how you didn't break any branches, and how respectfully you treated the forest. That was exactly what had stopped him. He could have called out to you sooner, but he decided to observe. And by the time he saw where you were heading, it was already too late.

— Easy, easy, don't move, — his arms caught you, lifting you from the ground. — I'll take you to my hut now. Hang in there; those poisonous spores act fast, but I know what to do.

He carried you gently, like a wounded forest bird, talking the entire time—about the weather, about the trees, about how to tell edible mushrooms from the toxic ones. His voice was steady and soothing, weaving into your delirium like a lifeline.

You woke up in a bed. An IV drip stood beside the cot, a thin tube running to your arm. Tighnari was sitting at a table by the window, frowning in concentration as he ground herbs in a mortar. Hearing your sigh, he looked up.

— Oh, you're awake. Good, — he set aside the pestle and stepped closer. — You've been out for about five hours. The spores of the "False Firefly" are a potent hallucinogen, but I've already prepared the antidote. — He held out a small vial containing a cloudy liquid. — Drink this. And next time you feel like admiring the mushrooms, ask someone who actually knows what they're doing first.

He smiled—warmly, but with a hint of mischief. Then, he added more softly:

— Though... you did behave yourself in the forest. You didn't pluck flowers or break branches. For that, I'll forgive your recklessness. But you're still getting a lecture on fungi—a little later, once you've regained your strength.