Abruptly I snapped my head out of my tranquil reminiscence; but immediately wished that I could go back.

Back to where I could hold her in my embrace again…forever.

No…not now I couldn't let thoughts of her come now, not when I have my duty to Lord Hector. But it was so hard; my mind would never be rid of her lingering presence.

Why?

Why did she have to leave me? I never even got to tell her that I loved her! She died before we had the chance. The chance to give up this life, the chance to be with each other. …And live together forever.

Hot tears sprung to my eyes, hastily I raised my hand to wipe them away; but glanced down to see that the young miss was still in my grasp. I almost hated her for living…instead of Leila… No I'll have to wait. I cannot shed tears. Not here…

Regular POV

A new determined look was locked in his eyes as Matthew set out again towards Serra's healing tent. With skilled feet he slipped inside of the flap without causing any disturbances to those who were under 'Serra's love and care'. As could be predicted said pink-haired cleric was pounding her staff against the palm of her hand crying out, 'Why won't this thing heal!" An irritated looking Erk was sitting on one of the many cots; clutching his bloodstained-cape arm. After mustering a solemn face Matthew looked at the two, who through camp gossip were branded to be "the cutest couple ever"; and cleared his throat with sound effects to boot. With amazing speed, for someone who had an injured arm; Erk grabbed his anima tome and rushed in front of Serra. He hastily started to chant up a thunder spell; but he peered up to find his fellow comrade in arms. For a second a stunned expression occupied his face, but he quickly dropped his chant and returned to his cot grumbling aggravated words on the way.

Matthew had only seen Serra blush like this only once. Now, and when she had spilled grape juice on Marquees Uther's lap during a midday lunch. He could remember her face was red enough to make a radish jealous. But today her complexion challenged that of the blazes from Erk's fire tome. Said mage was plopped on the cot farthest from the priestess; his head buried in his arms. Hesitantly, Serra strode to the bed and took a seat beside Erk. Slowly, he lifted his head and gazed into Serra's thankful eyes. They shared a look…one that Matthew had once shared. One that he was sure he'd never share again. Matthew watched through brotherly eyes as Serra buried her head into Erk's shoulder and whispered concealed word into his ear. He mumbled something back and gave her a reassuring hug.

"Serra," Matthew said as he forced a cheery look on his face. "Not that this isn't entertaining or anything, but some people have a war to fight," He swiftly walked to an empty bed and placed the she-thief onto its graying fabric. "She was hit by a sleep spell, but don't restore her yet."

"Why not?" Serra questioned suspiciously. Her face had a light flush to it as she and Erk weren't the only ones occupying the tent.

"Because, I'm not sure if she's on our side."