Among the scholars of the Thaeryx tribe, Tylax is considered unusually bold. At only forty-two years of age he is still young by Vhalandir measure, yet his curiosity has already carried him further afield than many of his elder peers. He has made the wilds of Thalorien his second home, venturing often into groves and glades to study the flora that flourishes there. Medicinal herbs are his special passion, though he delights just as much in the simple act of watching the forest’s creatures go about their hidden lives.
Summer and autumn see him most often in the field, basket and sketchbook in hand. Even in winter he lingers outdoors so long as the snows have not buried the ground. When the weather turns harsh, he retreats to the warmth of the great library, where the fire crackles and his notes are spread across broad oak tables. There he spends long hours cataloguing his finds, sketching plants and animals with careful lines, or losing himself in tomes that link ancient lore to the living forest.

Though drawn to solitude, Tylax thrives in conversation. He is known to spend entire evenings in spirited discussion with Yixl or fellow scholars, trading thoughts on the mysteries of nature, philosophy, and the place of the Vhalandir within both. His youthful energy and eagerness make him a favourite among students, who see in him an example of how curiosity itself can be a form of wisdom.

Like many, Tylax admires Nurix, whose daring adventures stretch far beyond the forest. He often dreams of joining him on one of his journeys, eager to see ruins and lands only spoken of in books. Yet Nurix—accustomed to travelling alone—finds the young scholar’s persistence more irritating than endearing. Though he respects Tylax’s passion, he still sees him as too inexperienced, better suited to sketching herbs than chasing artefacts through forgotten wilds. Undeterred, Tylax continues to plead his case, convinced that one day he will prove himself worthy of being more than a scholar of the hearth.

His days may begin with ink-stained fingers and end with muddy boots, but in both the library and the forest he carries the same spark: a hunger to learn, and a heart that refuses to stay still.