Chapter Text
1. The Tragedy
The howl of pain startled young Iniko out of his happy dream. He looked around the tent, confused. His mate was nowhere to be found. He found his footing and walked outside. The stronger, fearless Semes, the men of the tribe, ran toward the gate in the fence surrounding the village. The Ukes, the breeders and women of the tribe, cowered in their tents. His heart lurched. In the half darkness, his beloved December was out in the thick of the battle.
XXX
December stumbled through the forest. The Akari tribe was attacking his tribe's fields. He found a spear from a fallen comrade and braced himself against a tall oak tree. He heard reassuring sounds of his fellow Semes hooting and hollering as well as the stamping of the horses getting closer. He smiled and raised his hand to the sky, praying to Jehovah that he would see his beloved Iniko again.
XXX
Iniko ran through the forest, his lithe frame helping him get through the foliage faster. He found the easiest path to the fields. He picked up a spear from a dead Akari Seme and spread his star white wings. He flapped hard to gain height and see everything below him. He spotted the beautiful wings of his December plastered to the ground. The cookies and cream pattern was unmistakable in the moonlight. He landed nearby the wings. He tiptoed forward and stared.
December moaned softly. His chest burned where an arrow had struck him. He sat up slowly. He pressed his hand to his chest, his fingers around the arrow's shaft as it protruded from his chest. The rain plastered his dark hair to his forehead.
"December, my love!" Iniko yelled at the top of his lungs. The sweet voice brought the injured Seme relief. "Sit still, I'm getting help."
The frantic Uke screamed for help until his voice got hoarse and his throat ached something fierce. He crawled over and sobbed into his lover's chest, killing his beautiful voice. The Seme ran his calloused hands over the beautiful Uke's virgin white wings. The sound of their tribe members caught their attention.
December coughed, spitting blood on his deer fur shirt. He knew he wouldn't last long. His left lung had been struck with the arrow. He groaned. Iniko started to panic.
“I'll be okay, my love…” December smiled weakly.
The Seme warriors walked toward them. Three picked up December, and two helped Iniko to his feet. They headed home to the village. The horses provided Iniko comfort on the rough journey home. The Semes found their comfort in telling stories about their conquests with their lovers. Iniko braided his horse's mane, murmuring in a soft voice. The medicine man would save December. He had to.
XXX
December hollered curses into a rag over his mouth. Jonah, the medicine man, dug into the injured man's skin to retrieve the arrow head. December's cries of pain and agony reached Iniko outside, who was picking out his dark brown hair. Iniko’s father, Lione, tried to comfort his anxious son. The medicine man walked out to the two brunettes outside the hut.
“What's the news?” Lione asked sternly.
Jonah sighed deeply, “he's not going to survive. He's dying. Best let Iniko spend some time with his mate before he dies.”
Iniko felt his heart shatter in just those few words. He ran into the hut, finding December laying on an oak table. They embraced, knowing the Reaper would soon visit them. They kissed deeply, the feeling of impending misery taking its toll. They held each other, sobbing into each other's hair.
“December, I'm so sorry…” Iniko cried, “I'll take you right here if need be.”
December let out a hoarse chuckle, “and do what? It'd kill me…”
Iniko blushed and immediately felt stupid. He took his lover's hand and held it close. They spent a moment in complete silence before the cold fingers of the Reaper clenched around December's soul. The Seme began coughing as he drowned on his own blood. Iniko watched as his Seme, his mate, his everything slipped into the final darkness every last soul would be claimed by. Several hard coughs racked poor December's body like earthquake tremors.
“Iniko, my love, I love you always… I'll see you when we meet in Heaven,” he murmured as the Reaper dragged his soul from his body.
Iniko let out a scream of pure misery, his heart breaking all over again. He put his head on his arms as he sobbed into his pale white skin. He sobbed until his throat became a cemetery for his broken cries of heartbreak and emotional agony. He stumbled out of the hut, his legs going on automatic.
“Iniko?” his father called to him, worry creeping into his father's deep, rich voice.
“Go away,” Iniko snarled in pure aggression, his anger at the world in his voice.
“Lione, give him his mourning period. He's just lost his lover. You know what it was like,” Jonah barked in Iniko’s defense, “you watched his carrier die after childbirth. Anyone losing their mate is terrible a tragedy. You of all people should know of the pain he's feeling. Give him time to heal.”
“His heat… he's not far from it, Jonah,” he shot back, “he'll end up begging to be sated, and I won't do that to my son. He should go to the tribe leader, become one of his many wives and husbands. At least he wouldn't have Semes pawing at his door all hours of the evening.”
“You know damn well the tribe leader would break his back the first night of his heat,” Jonah growled in a low voice.
Lione’s face lit up in realization, “should we send him away? To the outside world?”
Jonah nodded sadly, “it's the best we can do for Iniko. Let it be his choice. And don't stop him if he chooses to kill himself.” He looked at the entrance to the hut, sighing, “I best prepare the body for burial. December is already with our ancestors.”
XXX
The day of the funeral brought the whole tribe out to see December put to rest. Iniko stood next to his father in his finest deer skin clothing. As the eldest unmated Semes carried a wooden board with December's still frame on it past, the members laid wildflowers amongst the corpse. Iniko left his father's side and trailed the funeral train. December's mother was sobbing into her hands just a few feet ahead of her son's mate as she trudged on.
Iniko noticed that everyone around him was whispering. He felt sick. Tribe members were supposed to stay silent during funerals. Did December's death mean nothing? Did his bravery and sacrifice to keep the tribe safe mean so little? He looked up, seeing that December's mother couldn't take the funeral train anymore and had joined her two daughters on the sidelines. He could see December's head on the wooden board. He fought tears the entire way to the grave where his beloved would rest.
He couldn't recall the rest of the ceremony except for the aching numbness in his chest. He wanted to lay down with December in that grave. He wanted to die. It would be an honorable way to die anyways. He would be better off dead than this aching feeling in his heart.
XXX
Jonah walked into the tent Iniko called home. The young angel was curled up in his cot. The medicine man groaned softly. He felt a corn husk pillow hit his face and knock his vision out of focus. He looked up, seeing Iniko perched on his cot, holding another pillow up like a bat, ready to hit Jonah again.
“Relax, little Uke, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you at all,” he attempted to reason with the grieving angel.
“Here to give me away to the tribe leader?” Iniko snarled, his wings fluffed out to make him look bigger.
“No, but we need to talk,” the medicine man took the Uke's hands in his, “your father and I are going to give you three choices. You can kill yourself, which is a very honorable way to die. You could also consider being the Uke of the tribe leader, but that might be risky to your health. And of course, the most dangerous choice of all, you could leave the tribe and become a part of the Archangel society.”