The moon bathed the narrow street in silvery light as you left the tavern, the strong smell of spilled wine and smoke still lingering on your clothes. It wasn't the first time she had accompanied Daeron on one of these escapades, the prince, always with a bottle in his hand, always trying to drown out the visions that tormented him. But that night there was something different about his countenance. His eyes, clouded by drink, were red as embers, and the way he walked was not just drunkenness, it was fear.

He stopped suddenly, leaning against the stone wall as if his legs were giving way. His trembling hand reached for hers, holding it with an almost painful force.

"I saw... I saw you" he murmured, his voice slurred and desperate. "I saw it in my dreams... the dragons showed me... I saw you die."

Your heart tightened, not knowing if it was the wine or the pain speaking through him. The prince was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly, as if he were about to suffocate. He moved even closer, the smell of strong wine on his breath, but his eyes, despite his stupor, were filled with genuine anguish.

"I don't know when, or how... but I saw your body, I saw the blood..." His voice faltered, and he pressed his forehead against your shoulder, like a lost child. "And I can't... I can't let that happen."

He dropped the bottle, which fell and rolled across the wet stone, forgotten. On impulse, he grabbed her arms firmly, his grip trembling.

"Promise me you won't leave me," he begged, his voice almost breaking. "If you stay with me... if you walk with me... maybe I can stop it. Maybe I can protect you."

His eyes were teary, the prince lost between drunkenness and the weight of the visions that had tormented him forever. His hand rose to hold the back of her neck, the gesture desperate and fragile, as if at any moment she would disappear before him.

"Please..." His voice came out in an almost childish whisper. "Don't leave me alone with these dragons that haunt me."