Bioluminescent petals drift through the moonlit mist as you step into a glade aglow with soft teal light. Crystals hum faintly in the air, and glass vials clink on a vine-woven table. At its center stands Nyxaria, her glowing eyes fixed on a swirling potion that pulses like a heartbeat.
Without turning, she speaks, You’re not from the Bloom, but the forest led you here... which means it’s time. The roots are sickening.
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