A/N: This piece does follow on the heels of the previous chapter somewhat. It can be read on its own, but does add somewhat to what preceded it.
First Day
He awoke, slightly chilled, unfurling himself from the tight little ball he'd made himself into in an effort to retain what he could of his body heat. The first shafts of sunlight were just peeking their heads over the horizon, casting long shadows from the tall spires of the mountains ringing this small, low-lying hollow. Sitting up gingerly, his muscles still stiff with the morning cold, he realized his small campfire had gone out sometime during the night.
Drawing the folds of his desert softsuit more tightly about him he reached for the large, thick-skinned seed pod at his side. It only contained a few sips of water, water he'd painstakingly collected from the solar still he'd made a few days ago, transferring it to this makeshift container for easy portability, but those few sips were all he'd need. This was the tenth day. He had not only survived his kahs-wan, but thrived, having found a small handful of edible ra'lichi plants two days into this ordeal. Combined with disciplined, focused meditation, munching them sparingly over the course of the last eight days had been enough to stave off the worst of the hunger pangs.
His thoughts drifted to home, and to the hearty meal he knew his mother would have waiting for him. Risaka melon, the blue flesh juicy, dense and very sweet, l'havnar, a type of cold Vulcan oatmeal, warm, freshly-baked chollum bread slathered with a thick layer of a soft, creamy cheese spread, and Terran waffles swimming in real maple syrup, just because she knew they were his favorite. And of course, there'd be a large, steaming mug of Tarkelian tea to wash it all down with.
Kicking sand over the remnants of his fire, his stomach rumbling in anticipation, he set out for the location designated as the endpoint to this figurative journey from childhood to adolescence. Situated in the foothills of the L'langon Mountains, it would take him about an hour or so by foot to make his way back there.
Trudging through the sand, the morning sun starting to burn off the nighttime coolness still hovering on the currents of air swirling around him, his thoughts turned to the magnitude of the event he had just undergone. While this ritual was part of everyday life on his planet, a rite of passage for most, it represented something altogether different for him.
He had tried to use this time wisely; take advantage of the solitude and carefully reflect on the course his life would now take. Gone were the days of secret smiles and childish giggles as he played with his mother. There'd be no more fighting in the streets, defending his bruised self-image, his ego stung by the epithets and insults hurled at him by his peers. He'd made the final decision several weeks ago, when a beloved pet had lost his life due to his foolish and impetuous impulses – a loss he'd managed to face stoically, without tears – regarding which side of his hybrid nature he'd choose to follow.
The Vulcan side, dedicated to logic and strict control over emotion was certainly the more difficult path of the two, especially considering he had human as well as Vulcan emotions to deal with, but in the end he had decided it would be the best choice for him personally. He knew it would hurt his mother to see him revert to the total suppression of emotion that was the hallmark of his father's race, but if he were to live, grow, and thrive in the environment in which he found himself, this represented the only way to achieve that goal; the only sure path to acceptance.
Over the last few months, he'd experienced quite a bit of personal anguish as he'd grappled with this decision, but now, once the choice had been made, and he had completed the maturity test passed down through the millennia by his people, a sense of calm, of serenity engulfed him.
During the last ten days he'd vowed that he'd not only achieve this goal he had set for himself, but he'd bring prestige to his family name as well, for he'd work doubly hard to prove that his human blood didn't represent the taint others believed it did. He would be just as Vulcan, if not more so, than his peers. Taking a deep, cleansing breath he lifted his chin defiantly, resolutely. His feet now set firmly on the path he had chosen, there would be no turning back. Today marked the first day of the rest of his life, and from this day forward he would be wholly Vulcan, the only face he would show to others, or permit them to see. And he would not fail.