Heitor held Erasma tightly. Neither spoke a word as they indulged in each other's warmth. Even through the armor, they could feel their natural heat emanating between them. As time raced by, it comforted them. So much so, they almost cried. They both wanted to, to release all the pent up hurt in their hearts, but doing so would be unbefitting of them. They were drakens. Furthermore, they were proud knights of the Principality of Altceu.

Were.

They were also betrayed by their squad leader and cast down into slavery. They had everything taken from them, their pride, their dignity, their very sense of self. To die on a battlefield would be a fate infinitely better than the one they received. Even if that death came via a backstab, it would still be better.

Erasma was no more than a squadmate before. They occasionally spoke to one another, but only because her fighting style fascinated him. There was no bond then, just a casual acquaintance. Now, having lost every other member of their squad they were the center of each other's world. This was the third facility they were moved to and it was by far the harshest. The others tested their will, but this is the one that almost broke it. Neither knew what they would do if they lost the other.

Every time they were awoken their anxiety shot up, only simmering down when they confirmed the other was still alive and with them. Each time they were put back to sleep, fear gripped their hearts, nightmares of that being the last time they ever saw each other replayed over and over.

Heitor almost lost it. It was a much closer thing than he’d even admit to himself. He didn’t know how many more weeks he could have lived like that, but it wasn’t a lot.

He ripped off his gauntlet and rubbed his hand against the side of Erasma’s head. He lingered on each scale before sliding over to the softer skin on her cheek. Their eyes met. Thankfully, he’d never find out. They were free now. Free.

From conversations they heard here and there, they were on the border of the Taiyo Dynasty. That was thousands of kilometers from their home. He didn’t even know if they had a home to return to. How was their disappearance framed? Which lies were spun? He would love nothing more than to claim revenge on the man who threw them into this wretched life, but how likely was that? They had no proof of his treachery and no means of acquiring any. If they went back without a good story, they’d be locked up on grounds of suspicion before they were welcomed as lost soldiers.

But where else would they go? What will they do now?

Erasma rose to her toes and lightly kissed his jaw, “This is not the time for worries. Let us celebrate today, worry tomorrow.”

“It is because tomorrow is uncertain. That I must worry today.”

It was her turn to rub the side of his face, “Tomorrow is always uncertain, Heitor. Though this is the first day we can be hopeful for it. We should not waste it.”

Heitor looked deep into her ruby eyes before heaving a heavy sigh. Having summoned the strength, he immediately planted his lips on hers. When she reciprocated, he let himself go, sinking deep in their long, passionate embrace. He relished it. The raw emotions enveloped him, cocooning him with compassion. Only the loud whistles and claps of the others allowed him to resurface.

He separated from her and turned to see that they all stared at them.

“Don’t let us stop you!”

“Keep going!”

It appeared the others had long finished throwing the bodies into the bonfire and their very public display of affection had lightened the mood. The cries had switched to cheers and the song being son was far more upbeat. He didn’t know many of them personally, but they all looked at him and Erasma like he used to look at his mates when they brought home a partner, with a sort of vicarious pride. Erasma placed her other hand on the other side of his face and refocused his attention on her. He only paused for a moment before lifting her off the ground continuing their kiss with even more passion.

“Ayy!”

"Whooo!"

“There we go!”

None of them could possibly forget what happened here and many of them would likely struggle to acclimate to whatever life awaited them outside, but Erasma was right. They could worry tomorrow, today they would celebrate.