Now all that remains is one crucial ingredient.

The final component is a lock of a Reian's Hair. In my vision, it was long, fine, and pale.

It looked exactly like one of Ioran's fair locks. But she thinks I am a fool.... Friend, will you speak to her on my behalf?

Player: Accept.

Reian's hair?

Davikik gets these strange obsessions. He came down with the swamp fever a few months ago, and he's been acting kind of bizarre ever since.

I don't know if it's good for you to indulge him, Player... but I'll participate if you think it'll stop him hopping up here to beg me for Reian trousers and diction lessons every other day.

Player: "I would rather err on his side, just in case."

Did Ioran volunteer the lock of her hair?

It is so hard to remain patient when I know I am so close!

Player: "This should do it, right?"

Perfect! I'll just add it to my dram, like so...

Ah! Gurururu, it looks precisely as it did in my dream! Gurrp gurrp!

Oh my. I apologize, friend. When I get excited it is hard to remember my Reian manners.