Excerpt: Death of the Soul-Stealing Weasels of Despair!

Tiriak woke with a start. It was today. He swung his feet off the bed and stretched, the queasy feeling in his stomach growing as his mind came to full wakefulness. The morning sunlight streamed through the chinks in the wall of the small room where he slept, illuminating the faces of his little brothers sleeping in the bed with him.
He stood up quietly, not wanting to disturb them yet. They were too young still to help out with chores and so would be allowed to sleep for another hour or so.

His father’s tall frame filled the doorway, and he called his name softly.
“Tiriak, no time for relaxing today.” Tiriak looked up and smiled. He quickly found his shoes and put them on, then followed his father down the narrow hallway and into the kitchen. His step-mother was at the stove, several pots already steaming away. She turned, and smiled at him; a nervous tentative smile.
“Did you sleep well?” She asked, genuine concern shading her voice.
“Well enough I guess...” Tiriak replied.
Her obvious concern for him brought a pang of regret that his real mother had not lived to see this day. She was in every way a perfect mother except for the one which she had no control over – she was not his mother.
“Chores are waiting” his father reminded and Tiriak turned to follow him outside.
As they fed the animals and tended to the garden they spoke little if at all. His father was not one given to much speech in the first place and this morning Tiriak was glad. The tension he had felt upon awaking was growing as the sun moved upwards from the horizon. As they walked to the bottom of the pasture to find the old brown milk cow his father finally broke the silence.
“Are you ready?” he asked, getting directly to the point as usual. Tiriak shrugged.
“I guess so. Is anyone really ever ready?” he asked. His father chuckled under his breath.
“No, I don’t suppose anyone really is.” Tiriak could tell that his father was pleased with his answer, although anyone who didn’t know him well would easily be fooled into thinking his father had no opinion one way or another. They walked in silence for a few more yards before his father spoke again.
“Has Julio been back to see you?” Once again his voice was even and emotionless, but Tiriak knew him well enough to detect the anger in his voice.
“No, he seems to have taken your warning seriously. I saw him in the market last week and he acted as if I was invisible.” Tiriak answered, a bit too smugly. His father didn’t answer right away, just looked at him sideways for a minute.
“Be not too proud that he is afraid of me. Today you become a man and will no longer be under my protection. Remember that vermin like him are always afraid when the watchman is on duty.” Tiriak felt his face burning under this gentle rebuke. He nodded respectfully and looked away, across the fields towards the line of trees that marked the course of the stream and the edge of their small farm land. No more words were spoken between them until the cow had been located and led back to the barn, had been milked and released back into the pasture. As they walked towards the kitchen door his father placed one hand on his shoulder and said in a voice that was much more strained with emotion than before,
“You will do fine. You are my son.”