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Tighnari was known as an intellectual. As an intellectual, he happened to be knowledgeable about many, many words. Some words held more value than others— and to him, anything with knowledge was the most valuable of all.
So tell him why when he was buried alive in his grief, he couldn’t think of a single word to describe how it felt?
Collei was like a daughter to him. He did not raise her, he did not gently guide her into taking her first steps, and he did not proudly send her off to her first day of school. But she was kind and always excited to learn, and he loved that he could be the one to enable her ability to do so. But… she suffered.
As bright as she was, Collei was in constant pain. Although she hated for Tighnari to see it, he could hear her quiet sniffles and her groans at night in her room, all due to her stiff, aching bones. Her flaking skin. Her waning strength. He watched her as she struggled to do simple tasks like taking her dishes to the sink and cleaning up her messes. Tighnari lost count of the number of times she had apologized profusely for dropping his plates and cups. Even though Elezar was infamous for having no cure, Tighnari did everything in his power to aid her.
Unfortunately, his attempts were not enough. But you know, illnesses have a funny way of working. Collei finally seemed like she was getting better; his tonics and poultices had been working wonders, to his surprise. The young forest watcher was positively ecstatic, and Tighnari even began to let her lead forest patrols on her own once she had the strength. Slowly, she was becoming more independent— she could handle being on her own for longer periods of time. Tighnari's pride swelled. However, only two months of her blissful independence passed before it all went downhill.
One night when Collei was cleaning up around Tighnari’s workspace, every joint in her body locked up, rendering her completely paralyzed. She was bedridden for weeks, her skin flaking away and her own metabolism eating away at her body as Tighnari desperately tried to fix it, to fix her. He practically tore apart his study in a frenzied attempt to find something, anything, anything to keep his precious student, his daughter, alive and breathing and by his side. Alas, to his utter despair, nothing succeeded.
Four weeks after Collei became paralyzed, she passed away at 11:34 p.m.
In that moment, the moment he realized Collei's chest stopped rising and falling, it was like Tighnari’s life was a windowpane. With each of his memories being etched vibrantly into the glass, it was pleasant to look at. With Collei in his life, sunlight shined through every crevice, truly illuminating the artful appearance of his life and emphasizing how wonderful his life had become ever since she had joined his side. In that moment, that beautiful, lively pane shattered, and every colorful little shard became dull, dreary, and gray in his palms.
He had cried before. He had cried when his father never came for any of his birthdays. He had cried when his mother left him at his aunt's front step, turned away, and left, never to be seen again. He had even cried over a simple mint plant that he tried to grow as a mere child, which had withered and died under his inexperienced care.
Never had he cried as deeply as he bawled that day.
There was not a single person who could have comforted him while he cradled Collei’s still-warm hands between his own, the warmth in her limp fingers gradually slipping away as tears dripped down helplessly to the floor.
His weeping simply echoed.