Fa'Diel indeed proved to be the ideal training ground that Daphne needed. Her progress on elemental spells had progressed significantly as she learned them—though, on account of the drought in Fa'Diel, Vincent had insisted that they would have to either return to Tibet or resolve the drought situation before she could attempt casting Fire.
Daphne didn't mind at all; there were plenty of other spells to practice, and then there was solving the mystery of the drought itself, which, despite being familiar territory for her, was still new ground to tread. And she was slightly nervous on account of the fact that Vincent, deciding that this would be an opportunity for another realistic training experience, had put her in charge of leading the investigation, insisting that he would only step in and intervene when he felt it was necessary.
Nevertheless, she took on the mantle of leader as she had in recent years. Her first item of business was to befriend Hasn and his group of Rito sailors; given how grateful they were for her bringing some much-needed rain to the coastal region, they were more than willing to act as her eyes and ears as they went about selling and trading their wares. Though unable to come up with solid clues, Hasn said that they did seem to have an odd feeling around the central marketplace, and so that was where Daphne led the others to continue their investigation.
After receiving confirmation from Vincent that the marketplace was one of the safer places in Fa'Diel, she had everyone split up and look around for anything suspicious—Vincent keeping an eye on Flim-Flam and Scrappy as they poked around, Shaggy and Scooby sampling some of the local dishes as they looked around, and Daphne herself pretending to look at trinkets that were being sold in some of the many shops.
"Excuse me, Miss?" a voice asked.
She looked up, finding herself staring at a bearded man with a hair and beard that was silvery blond, carrying a set of panpipes, and wearing a large, plumed hat. At least, he seemed like a man at first glance—taking a closer look, she saw a pair of hooved legs extended from his trousers. Like the Rito, he was wearing a vast number of translation talismans, suggesting that he talked to a lot of people.
"…Yes?" she asked.
"I take it in assuming that you are a sorceress? Your description matches that of a sorceress who has been casting spells to bring rain to the land." He glanced at her hair. "The witch with the locks of fire who casts the spells of rain."
"I am a sorceress, but I'm still in my training," she informed him. "And I take it that you are a satyr?"
"That is correct," the satyr nodded. "My name is Treble—I'm a musician by trade." He held up his panpipes and smiled ruefully. "However, that isn't the most profitable occupation these days."
"…Depends on who you know," Daphne mused. "At least, that's how it goes where I'm from."
"And what land do you hail from where music is so well-appreciated?"
"Florida."
"…I know it not," Treble said, shaking his head. "But perhaps I'll journey there someday."
Daphne shrugged and moved to continue on, but Treble cleared his throat to recapture her attention, taking a few steps into her personal space. She glanced back at him with a sharp expression, prompting him to back away again.
"You have a strong will—I like that in you. But, do forgive me; I wish to ask for your assistance. How experienced are you in potion-making?"
"…I haven't gotten that far yet in my training, sorry," she replied, with a shrug. "I'm focusing on spellcasting, as it's more practical for me."
"Well, no matter," Treble said. "Us satyrs are able to brew potions, and we aren't as gifted with mana as mages are. Even with your lack of experience, you could help us with our brew. Music doesn't bring us much, so us satyrs have to sell potions and other wares—perhaps you could help us?"
"But if you're able to make the brew yourselves, what do you need me for?" Daphne asked.
"A brew is always more potent if made by a mage," Treble said. "If we could bother you for just an hour of your time? You'll be compensated for it, of course."
Daphne sighed. She didn't need the money, of course, but she was reminded of what Vincent had told her about mages often receiving requests. Perhaps she could help them and then ask for information about the drought—the satyrs seemed to know a great deal about magic, after all… But, then again—
"My instructor wouldn't want me to wander off," she said. "I absolutely can't leave the marketplace."
"Our shop is here in the Square," Treble assured her, leading the way. "I would have thought a sorceress like you to be more rebellious, anyway. Live a little—that's the satyrs' philosophy!"
"Hmm," Daphne sighed, taking out her phone and texting Vincent that she was going to see what was going on with the satyrs' potion. She knew that her message would reach his crystal ball.
"What's that?" Treble asked, curious.
"It's basically my spellbook," Daphne said. She closed out her messages and pulled up a picture she had taken of one of the scrolls before she showed it to Treble. "I can zoom in on a page if I want to. I'm sure I have some notes on potion brewing in here somewhere…"
"We'll help you—don't you worry," Treble assured her, opening the door of a nearby shop.
It was dark inside, lit by only a few candles. A small group of satyrs, all of them looking similar to Treble looked up in surprise as they stood gathered around a cauldron.
"Rejoice, my brethren!" Treble exclaimed. "I have found us a sorceress! This is…". He trailed off. "I don't believe you gave me your name."
"You're right, I didn't," she said, and she didn't continue. Vincent had warned her and the others about never revealing their full names to strangers in a magical land, for knowing a person's true name gave magic practitioners power over them (Shaggy had glibly quipped that this rule was useful in the mortal world, to avoid identity theft).
"Well, it matters not. She isn't just any sorceress, but the sorceress who has come to aid Fa'Diel in the drought—and now, to aid us, as well!"
"I'm not really that experienced," she reminded him. "But I'll help if I can. What exactly are you brewing here?"
"We have all the ingredients," another one of the satyrs said. "We just need a mage to mix it."
Daphne walked over to the setup, wrinkling her nose as she realized the base liquid in the cauldron smelled like old wine. Her eyes then fell on the collection of solid ingredients as she lifted the lids off of the covered—some herbs, ginseng root, tree bark, some odd-looking mushrooms that were glowing green in the dark…
She suddenly let out a small yelp of alarm as she lifted a lid off of a bowl of (clearly) freshly-obtained frogs' legs; upon seeing them twitch, she slammed the lid back down on the bowl.
"I think these are, uh… a little ripe."
"They're supposed to be like that," Treble grinned. "Don't worry; we take only the left hind leg of the frogs, and then we let them go. Anyway, that's not even the worst part. Just wait—you haven't opened the last one yet."
Dreading what she was about to find, Daphne nervously lifted the lid of the last bowl, blinking as she saw some lumpy, gray wax-like substance—and then, she promptly gagged as the smell hit her, forcing her to cover it, as well.
"What is that!?" she choked out.
"Ambergris—from whale entrails," another satyr replied.
"Oh…!" Daphne groaned. "That stuff reeks!"
"Aye, that it does," a fifth satyr said. "There's no set order you need to put the other things in, but most folks put the ambergris in last. Whenever you're ready, Miss…"
"Don't rush me, I need some time here," she insisted, still waving a hand in front of her face to clear the smell away. "Ugh, what kind of potion are you going to make with frogs' legs and whale…?" She trailed off, continuing to pretend she was too repulsed by the smell as she recalled something important from her readings.
The left hind legs of frogs and ambergris… she mentally recalled. That sounds familiar… She suppressed a shudder as she recalled where she'd heard it before—when Vincent had assigned her readings on how to recognize and avoid the Forbidden Arts. …A dozen left hind frogs' legs and a handful of ambergris are the key active ingredients in Aphrodite's Kiss—a love potion!
Maybe she should have been scared upon realizing that she was surrounded by a group of satyrs who were trying to twist her arm into brewing a love potion for them, but the only thing she was feeling at that moment was anger.
She was about to reach for her necklace when she paused, forcing herself to send another text to Vincent instead: a picture of the uncovered ingredients, with just one sentence—
"The satyrs want me to brew Aphrodite's Kiss."
"So, I can't find my potion-brewing notes," she bluffed, noting that the satyrs were looking at her phone in confusion. "What are some other tips—?"
She was cut off as Vincent suddenly teleported in.
"There you are!" he chided, prompting her to gasp. "What is the meaning of this—my heiress neglecting her studies and cavorting with satyrs!?"
Daphne stared dumbfounded for a moment, but she quickly saw the knowing look in Vincent's eyes and realized that he was putting on an act—and she quickly did the same, putting on a guilty look.
The satyrs, on the other hand, all looked terrified, and Daphne was only just barely aware of them grabbing the different ingredient bowls and hiding them from Vincent's view.
"You… You didn't tell me you were the Great Mage's heiress!" Treble exclaimed, looking at Vincent in utter dread.
"You didn't ask," Daphne returned. She put on a guilty look as she turned back to Vincent. "Look, I can explain—"
"I think the explanation is quite clear—you were shirking your responsibilities!"
"No! They just needed help—"
"You have better things to do than that!" Vincent continued, playing his role flawlessly. "You have plenty of reading and practice to do! They can take the time to find another mage who has nothing better to do!"
He grabbed her arm and teleported them to where Shaggy, Flim-Flam, and the dogs were waiting. Vincent dropped his stern expression immediately, looking at Daphne in concern.
"Are you alright?" he asked, gently.
"I'm fine," she insisted. "But I thought we were going to stop them—"
"Like, what was that even about?" Shaggy asked. "Mr. V showed up with Flim-Flam and Scrappy, saying that he needed to pick you up right away."
"Rheah, what rhappened?" Scooby asked.
"A bunch of satyrs wanted me to brew a love potion for them—that's one of the Forbidden Arts!" Daphne exclaimed, also dropping her act and allowing her anger to show. She looked at Vincent. "We can't just let them get away with this! I'm surprised you didn't let them have it! I should just go back there and zap them all with Thundara—that's what I should do!"
"Daphne!" Vincent exclaimed in surprise. "What's gotten into you?"
Daphne struggled to calm down.
"Once I realized what was going on, all I could think of was New Orleans and how awful I felt—how awful we all felt—when Nekara got you with her love spell," she said. "They're selling that horrible stuff; who knows how many other families will be torn apart by it—how many other people will be dragged to the wedding altar without being in their right minds, like Nekara tried to do with you?" She sighed, still trying to keep her emotions in check. "I'm sorry, Vincent; guess they just hit a sore spot."
"And yet, you avoided giving in to your emotions," he reminded her. "I am very proud of you, Daphne."
"You are?" she asked, surprised. "But I didn't even do anything!"
"You did the right thing—you stayed in control and contacted me, rather than trying something spontaneously on your own," Vincent reminded her.
"…I guess I did…" Daphne realized.
"Okay, so you fooled them," Flim-Flam said. "Why did you just leave?"
"Yeah, we should go back and splat those satyrs!" Scrappy exclaimed.
"Tempting though it may be to break up the satyrs' love potion ring now, I think we might find the answer to the mystery of the drought source if we let them think that we are none the wiser."
"What do you mean?" Daphne asked.
"Those glowing mushrooms in that picture you sent me—they aren't required for Aphrodite's Kiss," Vincent informed them. "Those mushrooms are specifically for hastening potion brewing, and there's only one place in Fa'Diel where they grow—in a cavern that has its only entrance underground, which is normally inaccessible because of it being blocked by seawater."
"I get it," Shaggy said. "The drought revealed the entrance…"
"…And if the mushrooms are that helpful for the satyrs' love potions, it makes sense that they would want the drought to continue," Daphne concluded. "They might know something—I just found a clue!"
"Yes, and we'll look into this further in a bit," Vincent said. "In the meantime, Daphne, I think this will be a good opportunity for you to practice Esuna—if we look around, I'm sure we'll find some three-legged frogs in need of a healing spell."
And Daphne nodded, determined to help—and determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.
Notes: my description of the satyrs are based off of the ones from the Hades video game; they're a force to be reckoned with, which is why it's a very good thing that Daphne did not get into a confrontation with them.