Hoping that the old wizard knew where Cedez went, Dave walked over to Murdoc. The emerald-robed snailmancer looked down at the adventurer, one eyebrow arched in scrutiny.

"I'm..."

"Looking for Cedez?" Murdoc guessed, pulling out his pipe.

"Yes," Dave nodded, relieved that the mage seemed to understand his predicament. "I... screwed up, and I want to apologize to her."

"Touch the snail," Murdoc instructed.

"Uhhhh," Dave blinked.

Murdoc offered no further explanation. Dave obeyed, reaching out and placing his hand on the snail's glistening, slimy body.

"Now tell me and Bessie," Murdoc said as he lit his pipe, a wisp of smoke curling around his face. "Do you intend to harm Lady Astra now or in the future?"

"I don't," Dave replied emphatically. The surface of the snail rippled at his words, and a peculiar sensation washed over him.

"Bessie says you ain't lying," Murdoc remarked, his tone approving. "Are you a necromage?"

"I'm not a necromancer," Dave clarified, hoping to dispel any lingering doubts.

"Very good," Murdoc nodded, seemingly satisfied with Dave's answers. "What are your intentions?"

"I want to be her friend," Dave reiterated, his voice earnest. “I didn’t understand her situation properly and snapped at her.”

"Fair enough," the emerald-robed wizard acquiesced. "You pass. Come here."

Dave let go of the snail, wiping his goo-covered hand on his gray robe. Despite the bizarre nature of the test, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that he might be one step closer to finding Cedez and making amends.

Dave stepped closer to Murdoc, his heart pounding with anticipation. The wizard rummaged through the folds of his robes and, after a moment, produced a small, worn piece of parchment. He handed it to Dave with a knowing smile.

"Her address," he divulged. "She went to stay at her parents' place after some exceptionally tactless, idiot hero yelled at her—her words, not mine."

"Thank you," Dave murmured, gratitude and apprehension mingling within him.

Murdoc offered him a wry smile before puffing on his pipe, sending a series of smoke rings spiraling into the air.

Clutching the parchment tightly, Dave set off across town, navigating the labyrinthine streets as he searched for Cedez's childhood home. As he walked, he couldn't help but imagine a variety of scenarios how the scene would unfold.

Eventually, after winding his way through cobblestone streets flanked by an eclectic mix of architectural styles, Dave found himself standing before a small, adorable, ivy-covered cottage with a red, copper rooftop. Nestled among a verdant garden bursting with flowers and herbs, the quaint dwelling seemed to radiate warmth and a sense of welcoming.

Perched on the stone steps leading to the front door, an orange fox witch sat, her bushy tail flicking idly as she flipped through the pages of a thick, leather-bound book. A dress was floating in the air in front of her, threads weaving themselves to cover up a large, torn hole. As her sharp, gold eyes glanced up at Dave he felt a jolt of recognition.

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The older foxkin bore a striking resemblance to Cedez. She regarded Dave with a mixture of idle curiosity. Her fur - a brilliant shade of sunset orange, accented with white spots and wrapped with a lavender robe featuring blooming lilies gave her an air of rustic elegance.

"How might I be of assistance?" she inquired, her voice warm and inviting. "Do you seek the assistance of a clothmancer?"

"Errm," Dave stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I'm actually looking for Cedez."

"Ah," the foxwoman nodded, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "She's brooding in the garden. She won't tell me what's wrong, but I've never seen my daughter so upset. Usually, she's quite cheerful. Perhaps you might be aware as to why she's been so moody?"

Dave had expected Cedez to have been born in Shandria, since Archmage Rim had informed him that she was the host for the Empress’ Divine Shadow. What he hadn't anticipated, however, was the rustic charm and warmth of her parents' cottage.

He spotted more orange-haired foxkin running through the garden. Two younger boys were hitting each other with sticks and yelling noisily while an orange foxgirl who looked like a slightly older version of Cedez was hanging laundry out to dry.

"It's my fault," Dave confessed, his voice cracking with guilt and remorse. "I had a fight with her."

"Impressive," the woman responded, her tone laced with both surprise and disapproval. "You're the first person in Shandria to make my girl cry."

Dave winced at her words, his heart sinking at the realization of the pain he had caused.

"I came here to apologize to her," he said, his voice firm. "I didn't mean to hurt her, and I want to make amends."

The orange foxkin regarded him with a measured gaze, her eyes searching his face for any trace of insincerity.

“Mom, he’s hitting me!”

“No, he’s hitting me!”

The pair of orange-haired foxkin boys rushed to the woman, running circles around her. She ignored them, looking at Dave. In another moment, she nodded, her expression softening ever so slightly.

"Very well," she conceded. "I can see that you're sincere. You may speak with her, but remember: if you ever upset my daughter again, you will have to answer to me."

Dave swallowed hard and nodded, understanding the gravity of the warning.

"She’s nothing like my other children, you know. When she was born as dark as the night when the rest of us are akin to sun rays dancing on the clouds, my husband nearly left me. We had quite the fight and had to consult a seer to make sure that she is indeed his daughter.”

“She is your and your husband’s daughter,” Dave said. “I can attest to this. She was simply affected by powerful arcane magic.”

“She does have both of our features,” the clothmancer nodded. “Were also quite surprised to learn that due to her extraordinary high charisma alignment she is prophesied to meet a terrible fate. We didn’t take it seriously as seers are often generally bad at long term prophecies, but the older she got the more obsessed she became with her future. Two years ago she left our house to meet her destiny and only came back recently, with an exceptionally sour mood.”

Dave shuffled his feet, not sure what to say.

"Well, go on then," the woman gestured gracefully at him. "Go make my daughter smile once more. It breaks my heart to see her perpetually sad mug."

“I shall,” Dave nodded in agreement, taking the word to heart. He cautiously made his way through the wooden palisade that separated the garden from the rest of the property, his steps growing quieter as he approached the secluded haven.

The garden was a lush, verdant sanctuary filled with the gentle hum of insects and the sweet scent of blooming flowers. Dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves overhead, casting a serene, golden glow on the scene below. It was a space that seemed to embody the same tranquility and warmth that Cedez exuded, and Dave couldn't help but feel a sense of awe as he took it all in.

As he moved further into the garden, he spotted Cedez on a wooden swing, hung from the sturdy branch of an ancient oak tree. Her eyes were downcast, her usually vibrant tail drooping dejectedly. She seemed lost in thought, her expression a reflection of the turmoil brewing within her.

Dave's heart ached at the sight, and he hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. He knew that his words had wounded her deeply, and he wanted nothing more than to right the wrongs he had committed. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he mustered the courage to approach her and begin the delicate process of mending their fractured friendship.

"Hey, Cedez," Dave called out softly, his voice tentative as he approached the swing. "I... I wanted to talk to you."

Cedez looked up, her silver-blue eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him. For a moment, she seemed uncertain, as if trying to decide whether to welcome him or shut him out.

"Tracked me all the way to my parents' home, did you?" she asked, her dark tail swishing back and forth with a hint of irritation. "Go on then, grovel at the feet of your Sovereign."