dradeel doesn't drink much these days. the taste of wine and rum reminds him of a different time that he would rather preserve in the amber of memory. he indulges in the occasional tavern ale, but it does not keep as well as wine to take on the road. so he remains sober. something dradeel would come to be grateful for when ciri suddenly goes stiff. intuitively, he understands something has gone terribly wrong even before feeling the swelling of magic prickling at his skin.
he springs to his feet, panicked and terrified not for himself but for her. whatever grips her has done so without her control. for all of his prophetic visions, dradeel has not foreseen this rupture, and he has no idea how to repair it.
"ciri!" he calls out, grabbing her arm and putting a hand behind her head lest she topples over or hurts her neck with the way she cranes toward the sky. the way her eyes flash makes his lungs seize.
"ciri- ciri, WHAT DO YOU SEE?!" dradeel does not claim to know much of magic, in its theory or the intricacy of its mechanics, having not received any formal education on the matter. but dradeel knows something about sight, how it could enlighten or distort, guide or invade...
what sound pouring out of ciri's mouth makes his blood run cold. it is her voice but not her words something, someone, some unseen power has taken her, puppeteering her tongue with violence force. dradeel could want nothing more but to shield her, to tear off those invisible strings and rescue her from what terrible machination has gripped her. but he could do nothing of the sort, utterly helpless and useless in the face of her suffering.
ciri's tears cut him like daggers. dradeel takes her face into his callous hands when she finally comes to; his concern overtaking any sense of propriety for a moment as he searches her face desperately for... he isn't sure what he is looking for for a sign of damage, of recovery, or, simply, her.
"you- you were... what happened? your eyesโ you looked as though you were seeing things," he stammers, remembering suddenly to back away and allowing her space to breathe. "you were saying... you called out the name zireael. and spoke of the skies... dearg ruaโ... sorry, my elder speech is...- something red?"