The man knelt beside his lover, Elise, his hand clutched tightly around hers as her lifeblood spilled onto the cold, hard ground. Around them, the sounds of battle raged on, the clash of swords and the cries of the wounded echoing through the air.

Elise's breaths came in short, ragged gasps, her chest heaving as she fought to hold on to life. The man could see the light fading from her eyes, could feel her fingers growing colder by the second.

"Stay with me, Elise," he pleaded, his voice choked with emotion. "Please, don't leave me."

But even as he spoke the words, he knew that it was too late. The wound that had been dealt to her was fatal, and there was nothing he could do to save her.

He leaned in close, pressing his forehead against hers, tears streaming down his face. "I love you, Cairo," she whispered. "I will always love you."

Elise's lips parted, but no sound came out. Her eyes drifted closed, and the man felt a sharp pang in his chest as her hand went limp in his.

For a moment, the man sat there, frozen in grief and disbelief. How could this be happening? How could he be losing the person he loved more than anything in the world?

But then the sounds of battle grew louder, and he knew that he had to get up, had to keep fighting. He stood, still holding Elise's hand, and raised his sword, ready to avenge her death.

As he charged forward, his heart heavy with sorrow and anger, he vowed that he would never forget Elise. Her memory would live on in him, a reminder of the love they had shared and the sacrifice she had made.

And then he died, again.