The Men Of Shiv

Dario

I remember it like it was yesterday, even though I was only a boy. I could never forget the day my best friend was born. Most children four years of age would find birth utterly revolting, with the baby shoved out all slimy and bloody. Still, when my brother came out, I was right there, and he was a chubbier baby than I had ever seen–adorable in a smooshed, disgruntled way. Ever since my mother found out she was with child, I was the first person she told. I was excited to have what I knew would be my little brother. I was even the one who sliced that elastic cord that connected him to our mother. I couldn't wait to hold him. I probably even whined, thinking back–counting down the days we could play together. That day I knew I would be his big brother, his best friend, and most importantly, his protector against people like Ronald Jorn a few houses down, a horrible child who pushed me into the dirt any time he got, and a protector against people like my Father–Albertine.

***

"Up, Dario!" my Father yelled, his hand running across his face with disappointment. "How often do I have to tell you to straighten your back when pressing your body up." He crouched in front of me. "Do you or do you not want to be a knight in Carath?" His brass voice asked.

"Yes," I strained. Father had me doing these press-ups for nearly 2 hours with a few sips of water in between if I was lucky.

"Yes, what, Dario?" He gritted.

"Yes, Sir!" I tried to bellow out in a more confident tone.

"You'll have to get used to saying that more often if you are going to be a knight, Dario," I hate how he said my name. It always came out in a poisonous tone the way he bit the 'D' of my name every single time. I wished he would grow tired of saying my name, but it came out in almost every other sentence he spoke to me. My Father was a huge man; he towered over the average man. He had black holes for eyes and a dark red beard that covered his mouth and chin–stretching down to his collar. He was also unbelievably strong. There was a time that an old carriage crushed an elderly man, and several men tried to lift it, but it was stuck too deep in the thick mud. Father ran out, put the front of the carriage on top of his shoulder, and lifted it enough that the other men could drag him out. I will never forget the guttural scream that came out of him as he lifted the heavy wood with his body. It was shocking he wasn't the one to be a Knight in the King's guard rather than selling steel to them. I guess it had to be someone to take over the 'Shiv' family business, and I suppose that someone would be Dorian. I was going to be the one that would make our dream happen. The first to leave Windbreak since aunt Jacqueline and having the ultimate achievement of being a knight of the King's guard, something father has been drilling into my head since before I could even think or process what a knight even was. I'm sure he's been talking about it since I was a speck in my mother's belly.

"You'll be seventeen in 120 nights' time; I need to see you are trying." Shocking that he actually could count the days to the day of birth or count down the days he could get me out of his house.

"I am trying," My arms buckled as I rose for the umpteenth time. My wrists ached so bad I was sure they would snap.

"Try harder!" He finally yelled, but I knew it would come eventually.

"Alby.." My savior has come. "Take it easy on him. He's only a boy. Go ahead and rest, Dario." my mother's voice rang out like a melody. It was such a stark difference from the rasp and lowness of Father. I let my arms drop beneath me and looked up to see the sight of my mother standing nearby, her arm draped around my little brother Dorian as he looked at me, shocked, standing in front of her. Father working me out to be stronger was nothing new. Though subtle at first, he has ingrained this in me since I was four. I've been doing these extended forms of torture since I was ten. However, Dorian usually played with his little friends, unaware to what I was going through with Father... I gave him a weak smile to ease his comfort. Don't let him see his protector down. I thought. I would have a day like this every day until I died so Dorian would never have to dream of being alone with Father.